after night, that ten letters
could not contain all she
wanted to say. Much water
had flowed into the sea since
their daughter had gone away
with her husband, and the old
people had been as lonely as
orphans, sighing sadly in the
night hours, as if they had
buried their child. How many
things had happened in the
village in all these years!
How many people had
married, how many had died!
How long the winters had
been, and how long the
nights!
replied the old man in a
feeble voice. "He went into
military service at the same
time you did. He used to be a
soldier, but now he is in a
hospital where a doctor treats
sick people with water. He is
the door-keeper there."
"You can see it written here,"
said the old woman, taking a
letter out of her handkerchief.
"We got this from Efimia a
long, long time ago. She may
not be alive now."
Yegor reflected a moment,
and then began to write
swiftly.
"My, but it's hot!" exclaimed
Yegor, unbuttoning his
waistcoat. "The temperature
must be seventy! Well, what
next?" he asked.
"Fate has ordained you for
the military profession," he
wrote, "therefore we
recommend you to look into
the articles on disciplinary
punishment and penal laws of
the war department, and to
find there the laws of
civilisation for members of
that department."
The old people answered
nothing.
"What is your son-in-law's
profession?"
"He used to be a soldier,
brother; you know that,"
83