"Ididn'," repliedPierre.
"Andhowdidtheyarrestyou, dearlad? Atyourhouse?"
"No, Iwenttolookatthefire, andtheyarrestedmethere, andtriedmeasanincendiary."
"Wherethere'slawthere'sinjustice," putinthelittleman.
"Andhaveyoubeenherelong?" Pierreaskedashemunchedthelastofthepotato.
"I? ItwaslastSundaytheytookme, outofahospitalinMoscow."
"Why, areyouasoldierthen?"
"Yes, ', neverguessedatall."
"Anddoyoufeelsadhere?" Pierreinquired.
"Howcanonehelpit, lad? MynameisPlaton, andthesurnameisKarataev," headded, evidentlywishingtomakeiteasierforPierretoaddresshim."Theycallme 'littlefalcon' ? Moscow—she'? But 'themaggotgnawsthecabbage, yetdiesfirst'; that'swhattheoldfolksusedtotellus," headdedrapidly.
"What? Whatdidyousay?" askedPierre.
"Who? I?" saidKarataev."IsaythingshappennotasweplanbutasGodjudges," hereplied, thinkingthathewasrepeatingwhathehadsaidbefore, andimmediatelycontinued:
"Well, andyou, haveyouafamilyestate, sir? Andahouse? Soyouhaveabundance, then? Andahousewife? Andyouroldparents, aretheystillliving?" heasked.
AndthoughitwastoodarkforPierretosee, hefeltthatasuppressedsmileofkindlinesspuckeredthesoldier', especiallythathehadnomother.
"Awifeforcounsel, amother-in-lawforwelcome, butthere'snoneasdearasone'sownmother!" saidhe."Well, andhaveyoulittleones?" hewentonasking.
AgainPierre'snegativeanswerseemedtodistresshim, andhehastenedtoadd:
"Nevermind! You'reyoungfolksyet, ...."
"Butit'sallthesamenow," Pierrecouldnothelpsaying.
"Ah, mydearfellow!" rejoinedKarataev, "neverdeclineaprisonorabeggar'ssack!"
