War and Peace: Original Version. Лев Толстой

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      Rostov shrugged, as if to say: “Neither do I, but what can you do?” and, after giving his instructions, he went back to Telyanin.

      Telyanin was sitting in the same indolent pose in which Rostov had left him, rubbing his small white hands.

      “What a station – not a single house or a single woman since we left Poland,” said Telyanin, standing up and glancing casually around himself. “Well then, did you tell them to bring the horse?” he added.

      “Yes.”

      “Let’s go then.”

      “But what about tea?”

      “No, I don’t want any. I only called in to ask Denisov about yesterday’s order. Have you received it, Denisov?”

      “Not yet. Where are you going?”

      “I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse,” said Telyanin.

      They went out through the porch and into the stable. The lieutenant showed him how to put on the brace and went back to his quarters.

      When Rostov returned there was vodka and ham standing on the table and Denisov, now dressed, was walking backwards and forwards across the room with rapid strides. He looked into Rostov’s face sombrely.

      “It’s not often I don’t like someone,” said Denisov, “but I find that Telyanin as repulsive as milk with sugar. He swindled you with that Grachik of his, that’s for sure. Let’s go to the stable. Take Bedouin anyway, cash in hand on the nail, and two bottles of champagne.”

      Rostov blushed fiercely again, like a girl.

      “No, please, Denisov … I won’t take the horse, not for anything. If you won’t take money as a comrade, you’ll offend me. Really. I have money.”

      Denisov frowned, turned away and began tousling his hair. He was clearly displeased by this.

      “Well, have it your way!”

      Rostov made to take out his money.

      “Later, later, I still have some. Chuchela, send in the sergeant-major,” Denisov shouted to Nikita, “I have to pay him back some money.”

      He went to the bed to get the purse from under the pillow.

      “Where did you put it?”

      “Under the bottom pillow.”

      “I’m looking under the bottom pillow.”

      Denisov threw both pillows on to the floor. The purse was not there.

      “That’s incredible!”

      “Wait, perhaps you might have dropped it,” said Rostov, picking up the pillows by turn and shaking them. He took off the blanket and shook it out. The purse was not there.

      “Could I really have forgotten? No, I even had a thought that you kept your treasure under your head,” said Rostov. “I put the purse here. Where is it?” he said, turning to the servant.

      “I haven’t been in here. It ought to be where you left it.”

      “But it’s not …”

      “You’re always throwing things down somewhere and then forgetting. Look in your pockets.”

      “No, I wouldn’t have had that thought about the treasure,” said Rostov, “I remember putting it there.”

      Nikita rummaged through the entire bed, looking under it, under the table, rummaging through the whole room, but the purse was not there. Denisov, having turned out his own pockets, followed Nikita’s movements without speaking, and when Nikita shrugged and spread his arms in amazement, saying it was not in his pocket, he gave Rostov a glance.

      “Rostov, you’re playing a schoolboy …”

      He didn’t finish. Rostov was standing there with both hands in his pockets and his head bowed. Sensing Denisov’s gaze on him, he looked up and instantly lowered his eyes again. At that instant all of his blood, which had been locked somewhere below his throat, rushed up into his face and eyes. The young man was clearly unable to catch his breath. Denisov hastily turned away, winced and began tousling his hair.

      “And there was no one in the room, apart from the lieutenant and you yourself. It’s in here somewhere.”

      “Right, you devil’s puppet, get cracking, look for it,” Denisov suddenly shouted, turning crimson and rushing at the orderly with a threatening gesture. “I’ll have that purse, or I’ll whip you!”

      Gasping for breath and avoiding looking at Denisov, Rostov began buttoning up his jacket. He fastened on his sabre and put on his forage cap.

      “Come on, you devil. I tell you, find me that purse,” shouted Denisov, senselessly shaking the orderly by the shoulders and pushing him against the wall.

      “Denisov, leave him. I’ll be back straightaway,” said Rostov, walking to the door without looking up.

      “Rostov! Rostov!” Denisov shouted so hard that the veins on his neck and forehead swelled up like ropes. “I tell you, you’ve gone crazy, I won’t allow it.” And Denisov grabbed Rostov by the arm. “The purse is here, I’ll flay all the orderlies, and it will be here.”

      “But I know where the purse is,” Rostov replied in a trembling voice. They looked each other in the eye.

      “But I’m telling you, don’t do this,” Denisov shouted at the top of his voice, lunging at the cadet in order to hold him back. “I tell you, to hell with that money! This cannot be, I won’t allow it. It’s lost, so to hell with it …” But despite the resolute sense of his words, the captain’s hirsute face now expressed indecision and fear. Rostov pulled his arm free and fixed his eyes directly and firmly on Denisov with as much malice as if he were his greatest enemy.

      “Do you understand what you’re saying?” he said in a trembling voice. “Apart from me, there was no one in the room. That means, if not …”

      He couldn’t finish what he was saying and ran out of the room.

      “Ah, to hell with you and everybody,” were the last words that Rostov heard.

      He reached Telyanin’s quarters.

      “The master’s not at home, he’s gone to staff headquarters,” Telyanin’s orderly told him. “Why, has something happened?” the orderly added, surprised at the cadet’s distraught expression.

      “No, nothing.”

      “You only just missed him,” said the orderly.

      The staff building was located three versts from Salzenek. Without returning to base, Rostov took his horse and rode to headquarters.

      In the village occupied by the headquarters there was an inn that was frequented by the officers.

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