The next morning I had scarcely begun to dress, when a young officer entered my room.  He was of small size, with irregular features, but his sun-burned face had remarkable vivacity.  “Pardon me,” said he in French, “that I come so unceremoniously to make your acquaintance.  I learned yesterday of your arrival, and the desire of seeing at last a human face so took possession of me that I could wait no longer.  You will understand this when you shall have lived here some time!”

I easily guessed that he was the officer dismissed from the Guards for the affair of the duel—­Alexis Chabrine.  He was very intelligent; his conversation was sprightly and interesting.  He described with impulse and gayety the Commandant’s family, society, and in general the whole country round.  I was laughing heartily, when Ignatius, the same old pensioner whom I had seen mending his uniform in the Captain’s waiting-room, entered, and gave me an invitation to dinner from Basilia Mironoff, the Captain’s wife.  Alexis declared that he would accompany me.

Approaching the Commandant’s house we saw on the square some twenty little old pensioners, with long queues and three-cornered hats.  These old men were drawn up in line of battle.  Before them stood the Commandant, a fresh and vigorous old man of high stature, in dressing-gown and cotton cap.  As soon as he saw us, he approached, addressed me a few affable words, and then resumed his drill.  We were going to stay to see the manoeuvering, but he begged us to go on immediately to the house, promising to join us at once; “for,” said he, “there is really nothing to be seen here.”

Basilia received us kindly, and with simplicity, treating me like an old acquaintance.  The pensioner and the maid Polacca were laying the table-cloth.

“What is the matter with my dear Ivan Mironoff, today, that he is so long instructing his troops?” said the mistress.  “Polacca, go and bring him to dinner.  And where is my child, Marie?” Scarcely had she pronounced this name, than a young girl about sixteen entered the room;—­a rosy, round-faced girl, wearing her hair in smooth bandeaux caught behind her ears, which were red with modesty and shyness.  She did not please me very much at the first glance; I was prejudiced against her by Alexis, who had described the Captain’s daughter to me as a fool.  Marie seated herself in a corner and began to sew.  The soup was brought on the table.  Basilia, not seeing her husband coming, sent the maid a second time to call him.

“Tell the master that his inspection can wait; the soup is cooling.  Thank God! the drills need not be lost; there will be time enough yet to use his voice at his leisure.”

The captain soon appeared with his one-eyed officer.

“What’s this, my dear,” said Basilia; “the table has been served some time, and no one could make you come.”

“You see, Basilia, I was busy with the service, instructing my good soldiers.”