Romashov soon reached the ravine again. Once more that indescribable feeling of disgust at life and contempt of the inanity and senselessness of the work of creation. Whilst descending the declivity he stopped suddenly and raised his eyes to heaven. Again he was met by the same infinite, icy-cold firmament; again he experienced the same longing, mingled with fear and anguish, and almost unconsciously he raised his fists threateningly against heaven, and in the voice of a man foaming with rage, in words of unspeakable blasphemy, challenged his Maker's omnipotence, and dared Him, in proof of it, to break off his arms and legs. Romashov, deliberately and with his eyes shut, threw himself down the precipice, and alighted unscathed on the railway bank. With two leaps he gained the opposite slope, the top of which he reached without stopping or taking breath. His nostrils were dilated, and his chest heaved violently under convulsive efforts to regain his breath, but in the depths of his soul there blazed a proud, triumphant feeling of malicious joy and defiance. XVI There was a lesson on military drill going on in the school of recruits. In a close room, on benches arranged in a square, sat the soldiers of the 3rd platoon facing one another. In the middle of this square Corporal Syeroshtán walked to and fro. Close by, walking backwards and forwards in the centre of a similar square, was the non-commissioned officer Shapovalenko. "Bondarenko!" cried Syeroshtán in a piercing voice. Bondarenko brought his feet down on the floor with a bang, and jumped up just like a jack-in-the-box. "Now, Bondarenko, suppose that you were standing at arms, and the commander came to you and asked: 'What is that in your hands, Bondarenko?' What ought you to answer?" "A gun," replied Bondarenko after reflection. "Wrong! Do you mean to tell me you would call it a gun? At home you might call it a gun, certainly, but in the service it is called simply a sharp-shooting infantry rifle of small calibre, maker Berdan, number two, with a sliding bolt. Repeat that now, you son of a----!" Bondarenko gabbled over the words, which he evidently knew by heart. "Sit down!" commanded Syeroshtán graciously. "And for what purpose is the rifle given you?" His stern gaze wandered round the class. "Shevchuk! you answer this question." Shevchuk stood up with a morose expression, and answered in a deep bass voice, speaking through his nose, and very slowly, and in detached phrases, as if there were a full stop after each: "It is given to me in order that in time of peace I may practise with it. But in time of war that I may protect my Emperor and my country from enemies." He stopped, scratched his nose, and added obscurely: "Whether they be external or internal." "Right! You know that very well, Shevchuk, only you mumble. Sit down. And now, Ovechkin, tell me, whom do we call external enemies?"