and cold; black, unillumined, motionless clouds hung heavily over it, while the earth under it was black, and our faces in that ill-omened light seemed yellow, like the faces of the dead. We all sat watching the samovar, but it went out, its sides reflecting the yellowishness and menace of the sunset, and it seemed also an unfamiliar, dead and incomprehensible object. "Where are we!" asked somebody, and uneasiness and fear sounded in his voice. Somebody sighed; somebody convulsively cracked his fingers; somebody laughed; somebody jumped up and began walking quickly round the table. These last days one could often meet with such men, that were always walking hastily, almost running, at times strangely silent, at times mumbling something in an uncanny way. "At the war," answered he who had laughed, and again burst into a hollow, lingering laugh, as if something was choking him. "What is he laughing at?" asked somebody, indignantly. "Look here, stop it!" The other choked once more, gave a titter and stopped obediently. It was growing dark, the cloud seemed to be settling down on the earth, and we could with difficulty distinguish each other's yellow phantom-like faces. Somebody asked,-- "And where is Fatty-legs?" "Fatty-legs" we called a fellow-officer, who, being short, wore enormous water-tight boots. "He was here just now. Fatty-legs, where are you?" "Fatty-legs, don't hide. We can smell your boots." Everybody laughed, but their laugh was interrupted by a rough, indignant voice that sounded out of the darkness,-- "Stop that! Are you not ashamed? Fatty-legs was killed this morning reconnoitring." "He was here just now. It must be a mistake." "You imagined it. Heigh-ho! you there, behind the samovar, cut me a slice of lemon." "And me!" "And me!" "The lemon is finished." "How is that, boys?" sounded a gentle, hurt voice, full of distress and almost crying; "why, I only came for the sake of the lemon." The other again burst into a hollow and lingering laugh, and nobody checked him. But he soon stopped. He gave a snigger, and was silent. Somebody said,-- "To-morrow we begin the advance on the enemy." But several voices cried out angrily,-- "Nonsense, advance on the enemy indeed!" "But you know yourself--" "Shut up. As if we cannot talk of something else." The sunset faded. The cloud lifted, and it seemed to grow lighter; the faces became more familiar, and he, who kept circling round us, grew calmer and sat down. "I wonder what it's like at home now?" asked he, vaguely, and in his voice there sounded a guilty smile. And once again all became terrible, incomprehensible and strange--so intensely so, that we were filled with horror, almost to the verge of losing consciousness. And we all began talking and shouting at the same time, bustling about, moving our glasses, touching each other's shoulders, hands, knees--and all at once became silent, giving way before the incomprehensible.