The Duel #245526

Can't you recognise your own commander, your own captain? Another step and you are a dead man, shouted the Tartar, in a furious rage. In his bloodshot eyes one could discern not only wrath and murder, but a good deal of fear and perplexity, and he made nervous thrusts with his bayonet in different directions, just as if he were protecting himself against imaginary foes. Round about him, but at a respectful distance, a crowd of soldiers flocked together, accepting with joy and gratitude this interesting little interlude in their insufferable, soul killing drill.