"_Retro, Satanas!_" cried Lbov, who had some difficulty in protecting himself against the horse's froth-covered muzzle. "You've heard, I suppose, what happened to an Adjutant of the 4th Regiment who bought himself a circus-horse? At the review itself, right before the eyes of the inspecting General, the well-trained beast began to exhibit its proficiency in the 'Spanish walk.' You know, I suppose, what that is? At every step the horse's legs are swung high in the air from one side to the other. At last, both horse and rider alighted in the thick of the company. Shrieks, oaths, universal confusion, and a General, half-dead with rage, who at last, by a supreme effort, managed to hiss out: 'Lieutenant and Adjutant, for this exhibition of your skill in riding you have twenty-one days' arrest. March!'" "What rot!" interrupted Viätkin in an indignant tone. "I say, Biek, the news of the sabre-cutting was by no means a surprise to us. It means that we do not get any free time at all. Turn round and see what an abortion some one brought here yesterday." He concluded his sentence by a significant gesture towards the middle of the parade-ground, where a monstrously ugly figure of raw clay, lacking both arms and legs, had been erected. "Ha! look there--already. Well, have you tried it?" asked Biek, his interest excited. "Have you had a go at it yet, Romashov?" "Not yet." "Don't you think I've something better to do than occupy myself with rubbish of that sort?" exclaimed Viätkin angrily. "When am I to find time for that? From nine in the morning to six at night I have to be here, there, and everywhere, and hardly manage to get a bite or sup. Besides, thank God! I've still my wits about me." "What silly talk! An officer ought to be able to handle his sabre." "Why? if I may ask. You surely know that in warfare, with the firearms now in use, one never gets within a range of a hundred paces of the enemy. What the devil's the use of a sabre to me? I'm not a cavalryman. When it comes to the point, I shall seize hold of a rifle and--bang! So the matter's simple enough. People may say what they please; the bullet is, after all, the safest." "Possibly so; but, even in time of peace, there are still many occasions when the sabre may come in useful--for instance, if one is attacked in street riots, tumults, etc." "And you think I should condescend to exchange cuts with the tag-rag of the streets? No, thank you, my good friend. In such a case I prefer to give the command, 'Aim, fire'--and all's said and done." Biek-Agamalov's face darkened. "You are talking nonsense, Pavel Pavlich. Now answer me this: Suppose, when you are taking a walk, or are at a theatre or restaurant, some coxcomb insults you or a civilian boxes your ears. What will you do then?" Viätkin shrugged his shoulders and protruded his under lip contemptuously.