Saying good-bye to the princess, Sergey Ivanovitch was joined by
Katavasov; together they got into a carriage full to overflowing,
and the train started.
At Tsaritsino station the train was met by a chorus of young men
singing "Hail to Thee!" Again the volunteers bowed and poked
their heads out, but Sergey Ivanovitch paid no attention to them.
He had had so much to do with the volunteers that the type was
familiar to him and did not interest him. Katavasov, whose
scientific work had prevented his having a chance of observing
them hitherto, was very much interested in them and questioned
Sergey Ivanovitch.
Sergey Ivanovitch advised him to go into the second-class and
talk to them himself. At the next station Katavasov acted on
this suggestion.
At the first stop he moved into the second-class and made the
acquaintance of the volunteers. They were sitting in a corner of
the carriage, talking loudly and obviously aware that the
attention of the passengers and Katavasov as he got in was
concentrated upon them. More loudly than all talked the tall,
hollow-chested young man. He was unmistakably tipsy, and was
relating some story that had occurred at his school. Facing him
sat a middle-aged officer in the Austrian military jacket of the
Guards uniform. He was listening with a smile to the hollow-
chested youth, and occasionally pulling him up. The third, in an
artillery uniform, was sitting on a box beside them. A fourth
was asleep.
Entering into conversation with the youth, Katavasov learned that
he was a wealthy Moscow merchant who had run through a large
fortune before he was two-and-twenty. Katavasov did not like
him, because he was unmanly and effeminate and sickly. He was
obviously convinced, especially now after drinking, that he was
performing a heroic action, and he bragged of it in the most
unpleasant way.
The second, the retired officer, made an unpleasant impression
too upon Katavasov. He was, it seemed, a man who had tried
everything. He had been on a railway, had been a land-steward,
and had started factories, and he talked, quite without
necessity, of all he had done, and used learned expressions quite
inappropriately.
The third, the artilleryman, on the contrary, struck Katavasov
very favorably. He was a quiet, modest fellow, unmistakably
impressed by the knowledge of the officer and the heroic
self-sacrifice of the merchant and saying nothing about himself.
When Katavasov asked him what had impelled him to go to Servia,
he answered modestly: "Oh, well, everyone's going. The Servians want help, too. I'm
sorry for them."
"Yes, you artillerymen especially are scarce there," said
Katavasov.