The order was obeyed without the slightest demur. All departed, cowed and shamefaced, and consequently shy at meeting each other's glances. Each individual dreaded to read in his comrade's eyes his own shame and self-contempt, and they all gave one the impression of dirty little malicious animals, to whose dim and undeveloped brains a gleam of human understanding had suddenly managed to grope its way. Day began to dawn. A delightful, glorious morning with a clear, fleckless sky, refreshing coolness, and infinite harmony and peace. The moist trees, wrapped in thin, curling exhalations arising from the earth, and scarcely visible to the eye, had just awakened silently and imperceptibly from their deep, mysterious, nocturnal sleep. And when Romashov, on his way home, glanced at them, at the sky, and at the grass faintly sparkling like silver in the dew, he felt himself so low, vile, degenerate, and disgusting that he realized, with unutterable melancholy, how unworthy he was to be greeted by the innocent, smiling child-eyes of awakening Nature. XX On that same day--it was Wednesday--Romashov received the following curt official communication-- The Court of Honour of the--th Infantry Regiment hereby requests Sub-lieutenant Romashov to attend at 6 p.m. the officers' common-room. Dress: ordinary uniform. LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MIGUNOV, _President of the Court_. On perusing the letter, Romashov could not restrain an ironical smile. This so-called "ordinary uniform," i.e. undress uniform with shoulder-knots and belt, was to be worn, under the most _extraordinary_ circumstances, before the Court, for public reprimand, when appearing for examination by the commander of his regiment, etc., etc. At 6 p.m. Romashov put in an appearance at the mess, and told the orderly to send in his name to the president. The answer was to the effect that he was to wait. Romashov sat down by an open window in the dining-room, took up a paper and began to read; but he did not understand a word of the contents: everything seemed to him so uninteresting as he cast his eyes mechanically down one column after another. Three officers who were in the mess before Romashov returned his salutation with marked coldness, and continued their conversation in a low voice, with the obvious intention of preventing Romashov from catching what they were saying. Only one of them, Michin, pressed Romashov's hand long and warmly, with moist eyes, blushing and tongue-tied. He at once turned away, put on his cloak and hat hurriedly and awkwardly, and ran out of the room.