Jacob had offered, though vainly, to sacrifice his skin
for mine and suffer the lashes intended for me. Marusya took the
trouble to walk all the way to the sergeant's house and talk with
him, to save me from punishment. Thus I was indebted to both of
them, but with a difference. While trying to belittle the good
intentions of jacob, I tried at the same time to belittle my
obligation to him, whose authority was fast becoming irksome.
Marusya, on the other hand, refused to accept my thanks. . . . .
Well, by that time I had long considered myself a good young
soldier. I knew I was growing in the favor of my superiors. The
sergeant had praised me repeatedly, in my presence and in my
absence. I began to feel my own worth, to cherish military
aspirations, and to burn with the ambition of a soldier. Many a
time I dreamt I was promoted from the ranks, had become a colonel,
and was promoted to a higher rank still. . . . I fought in battles,
performed wonderful feats. . . .
About that time they began to talk in the army about the Turks.
Jacob and I had our differences with respect to them.
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