Lukáshka mounted his horse, and without calling on Maryánka, rode caracoling down the street, where Nazárka was already awaiting him. “I say, shan’t we call round?” asked Nazárka, winking in the direction of Yámka’s house. “That’s a good one!” said Lukáshka. “Here, take my horse to her and if I don’t come soon give him some hay. I shall reach the company by the morning anyway.” “Hasn’t the cadet given you anything more?” “I am thankful to have paid him back with a dagger—he was going to ask for the horse,” said Lukáshka, dismounting and handing over the horse to Nazárka. He darted into the yard past Olénin’s very window, and came up to the window of the cornet’s hut. It was already quite dark. Maryánka, wearing only her smock, was combing her hair preparing for bed. “It’s I—” whispered the Cossack. Maryánka’s look was severely indifferent, but her face suddenly brightened up when she heard her name. She opened the window and leant out, frightened and joyous. “What—what do you want?” she said. “Open!” uttered Lukáshka. “Let me in for a minute. I am so sick of waiting! It’s awful!” He took hold of her head through the window and kissed her. “Really, do open!” “Why do you talk nonsense? I’ve told you I won’t! Have you come for long?” He did not answer but went on kissing her, and she did not ask again. “There, through the window one can’t even hug you properly,” said Lukáshka. “Maryánka dear!” came the voice of her mother, “who is that with you?” Lukáshka took off his cap, which might have been seen, and crouched down by the window. “Go, be quick!” whispered Maryánka. “Lukáshka called round,” she answered; “he was asking for Daddy.” “Well then send him here!” “He’s gone; said he was in a hurry.” In fact, Lukáshka, stooping, as with big strides he passed under the windows, ran out through the yard and towards Yámka’s house unseen by anyone but Olénin. After drinking two bowls of _chikhir_ he and Nazárka rode away to the outpost. The night was warm, dark, and calm. They rode in silence, only the footfall of their horses was heard. Lukáshka started a song about the Cossack, Mingál, but stopped before he had finished the first verse, and after a pause, turning to Nazárka, said: “I say, she wouldn’t let me in!” “Oh?” rejoined Nazárka. “I knew she wouldn’t. D’you know what Yámka told me? The cadet has begun going to their house. Daddy Eróshka brags that he got a gun from the cadet for getting him Maryánka.” “He lies, the old devil!” said Lukáshka, angrily. “She’s not such a girl. If he does not look out I’ll wallop that old devil’s sides,” and he began his favourite song: