down in it: no one will see you, all are asleep. I will return at
once."

And he set off for the baggage waggons, which contained the provisions
belonging to their kuren. His heart beat. All the past, all that had
been extinguished by the Cossack bivouacks, and by the stern battle of
life, flamed out at once on the surface and drowned the present in its
turn. Again, as from the dark depths of the sea, the noble lady rose
before him: again there gleamed in his memory her beautiful arms, her
eyes, her laughing mouth, her thick dark-chestnut hair, falling in
curls upon her shoulders, and the firm, well-rounded limbs of her
maiden form. No, they had not been extinguished in his breast, they
had not vanished, they had simply been laid aside, in order, for a
time, to make way for other strong emotions; but often, very often,
the young Cossack's deep slumber had been troubled by them, and often
he had lain sleepless on his couch, without being able to explain the
cause.

His heart beat more violently at the thought of seeing her again, and
his young knees shook. On reaching the baggage waggons, he had quite
forgotten what he had come for; he raised his hand to his brow and
rubbed it long, trying to recollect what he was to do. At length he
shuddered, and was filled with terror as the thought suddenly occurred
to him that she was dying of hunger. He jumped upon the waggon and
seized several large loaves of black bread; but then he thought, "Is
this not food, suited to a robust and easily satisfied Zaporozhetz,
too coarse and unfit for her delicate frame?" Then he recollected that
the Koschevoi, on the previous evening, had reproved the cooks for
having cooked up all the oatmeal into porridge at once, when there was
plenty for three times. Sure that he would find plenty of porridge in