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On
the
evening
of
the
last
day
's
march
an
order
had
been
received
that
the
commander
in
chief
would
inspect
the
regiment
on
the
march
.
Though
the
words
of
the
order
were
not
clear
to
the
regimental
commander
,
and
the
question
arose
whether
the
troops
were
to
be
in
marching
order
or
not
,
it
was
decided
at
a
consultation
between
the
battalion
commanders
to
present
the
regiment
in
parade
order
,
on
the
principle
that
it
is
always
better
to
"
bow
too
low
than
not
bow
low
enough
.
"
So
the
soldiers
,
after
a
twenty-mile
march
,
were
kept
mending
and
cleaning
all
night
long
without
closing
their
eyes
,
while
the
adjutants
and
company
commanders
calculated
and
reckoned
,
and
by
morning
the
regiment
--
instead
of
the
straggling
,
disorderly
crowd
it
had
been
on
its
last
march
the
day
before
--
presented
a
well-ordered
array
of
two
thousand
men
each
of
whom
knew
his
place
and
his
duty
,
had
every
button
and
every
strap
in
place
,
and
shone
with
cleanliness
.
And
not
only
externally
was
all
in
order
,
but
had
it
pleased
the
commander
in
chief
to
look
under
the
uniforms
he
would
have
found
on
every
man
a
clean
shirt
,
and
in
every
knapsack
the
appointed
number
of
articles
,
"
awl
,
soap
,
and
all
,
"
as
the
soldiers
say
.
There
was
only
one
circumstance
concerning
which
no
one
could
be
at
ease
.
It
was
the
state
of
the
soldiers
'
boots
.
More
than
half
the
men
's
boots
were
in
holes
.
But
this
defect
was
not
due
to
any
fault
of
the
regimental
commander
,
for
in
spite
of
repeated
demands
boots
had
not
been
issued
by
the
Austrian
commissariat
,
and
the
regiment
had
marched
some
seven
hundred
miles
.
The
commander
of
the
regiment
was
an
elderly
,
choleric
,
stout
,
and
thick-set
general
with
grizzled
eyebrows
and
whiskers
,
and
wider
from
chest
to
back
than
across
the
shoulders
.
He
had
on
a
brand-new
uniform
showing
the
creases
where
it
had
been
folded
and
thick
gold
epaulettes
which
seemed
to
stand
rather
than
lie
down
on
his
massive
shoulders
.
He
had
the
air
of
a
man
happily
performing
one
of
the
most
solemn
duties
of
his
life
.
He
walked
about
in
front
of
the
line
and
at
every
step
pulled
himself
up
,
slightly
arching
his
back
.
It
was
plain
that
the
commander
admired
his
regiment
,
rejoiced
in
it
,
and
that
his
whole
mind
was
engrossed
by
it
,
yet
his
strut
seemed
to
indicate
that
,
besides
military
matters
,
social
interests
and
the
fair
sex
occupied
no
small
part
of
his
thoughts
.
"
Well
,
Michael
Mítrich
,
sir
?
"
he
said
,
addressing
one
of
the
battalion
commanders
who
smilingly
pressed
forward
(
it
was
plain
that
they
both
felt
happy
)
.
"
We
had
our
hands
full
last
night
.
However
,
I
think
the
regiment
is
not
a
bad
one
,
eh
?
"
The
battalion
commander
perceived
the
jovial
irony
and
laughed
.
"
It
would
not
be
turned
off
the
field
even
on
the
Tsarítsin
Meadow
.
"
"
What
?
"
asked
the
commander
.
At
that
moment
,
on
the
road
from
the
town
on
which
signalers
had
been
posted
,
two
men
appeared
on
horse
back
.
They
were
an
aide-de-camp
followed
by
a
Cossack
.
The
aide-de-camp
was
sent
to
confirm
the
order
which
had
not
been
clearly
worded
the
day
before
,
namely
,
that
the
commander
in
chief
wished
to
see
the
regiment
just
in
the
state
in
which
it
had
been
on
the
march
:
in
their
greatcoats
,
and
packs
,
and
without
any
preparation
whatever
.
