"The Tartar Steppe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dino Buzzati)

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stars gleamed in the window. Giovanni thought of the sentries walking up and down like automata a few yards from him, without pause. Scores of men were awake while he lay in bed and everything seemed sunk in sleep. ScoresтАФthought DrogoтАФbut for whom and why? It seemed as if in the Fort the rigid laws of army life had reached a pitch of insanity. Hundreds of men guarding a gap through which no one would pass. Let me get away, get away as soon as possible, thought Giovanni, get away from this atmosphere, from this mysterious mist. He thought of his own simple home : at this hour his mother would be asleep, all the lights outтАФunless she were still thinking of him for a moment, which was very likely ; he knew her so well and how for the least thing she would lie and worry all night and turn in her bed, unable to rest.
Once more there was the hollow overflow of the cistern, another star passed out of the frame of the window and its light continued to reach the world, the breastworks of the Fort, the feverish eyes of the sentries, but not Giovanni Drogo who lay waiting for sleep, a prey to sinister thoughts.
Supposing all Matti's hair-splitting was an act he put on? Suppose in actual fact they didn't let him go even at the end of four months? Suppose they kept him from seeing the city again with excuses and quibbles about regulations? Suppose he had to stay up there for years and years, in this room, in this solitary bed, sup┬нpose he had to waste all his youth? What absurd things to think, said Drogo to himself, realising their stupidity ; yet he did not succeed in dispelling them, for soon under cover of the night they returned.
Thus he seemed to feel spreading around him an obscure plot to try to retain him there. Probably not even Matti was concerned in it. Neither he nor the colonel, nor any other officer was the least interested in him тАв whether he stayed or went was completely indifferent to them. Yet some unknown force was
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working against his return to the cityтАФa force which perhaps without his knowing it had its origins in his own heart
Then he saw a great hail, a horse on a white road; he seemed to hear voices calling him by name and fell asleep.
V
ryw o evenings later Giovanni Drogo was on duty in
the third redoubt for the first time. At six o'clock in the evening the seven guards formed up in the court┬нyardтАФthree for the Fort, four for the lateral redoubts. The eighthтАФthat for the New RedoubtтАФhad left earlier, for it had some way to go.
Sergeant-Major Tronk, an old inhabitant of the Fort, had been in charge of the men for the third redoubtтАФtwenty-eight of them with a trumpeter who made twenty-nine. They were all from number two company тАФCaptain Ortiz' company to which Giovanni had been posted. Drogo took command and unsheathed his sword.
The seven guards were drawn up in line with perfect dressing ; in accordance with tradition, the colonel watched from a window. On the yellow courtyard they made a black pattern which was good to see.
The last rays of the sun slanted across the walls and over them the sky was bright, swept clear by the wind. A September evening. The second-in-command, Lieu┬нtenant-Colonel Nicolosi, came out by the great door of the command post, limping from an old wound and leaning on his sword. That day it was Monti's turn to inspect the guard, an immense captain whose hoarse voice gave the command and all together, absolutely together, the soldiers presented arms with a great metallic clash. There was a tremendous silence.
Then one by one the trumpeters of the seven guards sounded the calls. They were the famous silver trumpets of Fort Bastiani, with cords of red and gold silk hung with a great coat of arms. Their pure note filled the sky and the motionless hedge of bayonets resounded with it, like the low resonance of a bell. The soldiers were as motionless as statues ; their faces military and expres-
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sionless. it could not be that they were preparing for monotonous spells of guard duty ; with such heroic mien they must surely be going to face the enemy.
The last call hung in the air, repeated by the distant ramparts. The bayonets gleamed for another second, bright against the deep sky, only to be swallowed up in the ranksтАФall extinguished together. The colonel had disappeared from the window. The steps of the seven guards echoed as through the labyrinth of the Fort they marched off to their respective stations.
An hour later Giovanni Drogo was on the topmost terrace of the third redoubt on the very spot where the evening before he had looked towards the north. Yester┬нday he had come sight-seeing like a passing visitor. Now he was master there ; for twenty-four hours the whole redoubt and a hundred yards of wall were under his sole command. Below him, in the interior of the forti fication, two artillerymen 'stood by the two cannon which covered the end of the valley. Three sentries divided between them the perimeter of the redoubt ; four others were set out along the wall to the right at intervals of twenty-five yards.
The relief of the sentries coming off duty had taken place with meticulous precision under the eyes of Ser┬нgeant-Major Tronk, who was an expert on rules and regulations. He had been in the Fort for twenty-two years and now did not stir from it even on leave. There was no one who knew as he did every corner of the forti┬нfications and often the officers came on him by night making a round of inspection, when it was as dark as pitch, without a light of any kind. When he was on duty the sentries did not lay down their rifles even for a second nor lean against the rampartsтАФthey were even careful not to stop pacing up and down, for rests were granted only exceptionally ; Tronk did not sleep all night, making the rounds with silent tread, causing the sentries to start. "Who goes there? Who goes there?" they challenged, bringing their guns to their shoulders.
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"Grotta," replied the sergeant-major. " Gregorio," said the sentry.
The usual practice was for the officers and N.C.O.'s on duty to make the rounds on their own stretch of wall informally ; the soldiers knew them well by sight and it would have seemed ridiculous to exchange passwords. It was only with Tronk that the soldiers carried out the regulations to the letter.
He was small and thin with an old man's face and a shorn head ; he spoke little even to his equals in rank and in his free time preferred to study music in solitude. That was his maniaтАФso much so that the drum-major, Espina, was perhaps his only friend. He had a fine accordion which he hardly ever played, although the story went that he played wonderfully. He studied harmony and was said to have written a number of military marches. But no one really knew.
When he was on duty there was no risk of his begin┬нning to whistle as he usually did when he was free. Mostly he made a round of the battlements, scanning the great valley to the north as if looking for something. Now he was at Drogo's side and was showing him the mule-path which lead along precipitous slopes to the New Redoubt.
" There is the guard which has been relieved," said Tronk pointing with his right hand; but in the twilight Drogo could not pick it out. The sergeant-major shook his head.
"What's wrong?" asked Drogo.
" It won't work like thisтАФI've always said soтАФit's mad," answered Tronk.
"But what has happened?"
" It can't go on like this," Tronk repeated, "they should change it earlier, the guard at the New Redoubt. But the colonel won't hear of it."
Giovanni looked at him in amazement. Did Tronk

really permit himself the liberty of criticising the colonel?

"The colonel," the sergeant-major went on with the
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utmost gravity and conviction and with not the least attempt to correct himself, "the colonel is perfectly right from his point of view. But no one has explained the danger to him."
"The danger?" asked DrogoтАФwhat danger could there be in moving from the Fort to the New Redoubt along that easy path and in such a deserted spot?
"The danger?" repeated Tronk. "Sooner or later something will happen in this dark."
"What should they do then?" asked Drogo out of politeness, for he was only very mildly interested in the whole story.
"Once upon a time," said the sergeant-major, de┬нlighted to show off his knowledge, "once upon a time the guard at the New Redoubt was changed two hours before it was at the Fort. Always in daytime, even in winter; and then the whole system of passwords was simpler. They needed one to get into the New Redoubt ; then they needed another new one for that day's guard and for getting back to the Fort. Two were enough. When the guard had dismounted and was back in the Fort the new guard here had not yet been mounted and the password was still valid."
"I see," said Drogo, no longer trying to follow.
"But then," Tronk went on, "they were afraid. It's risky, they said, to let so many soldiers who know the password go about outside the Fort. You never know, they said, of fifty soldiers there is more chance of one turning traitor than one officer."
"So they thought only the guard commander should know the password. So now they leave the Fort three-quarters of an hour before the changing of the guard. Take today. Guard mounting takes place at six. The guard for the New Redoubt left here at quarter past five and got there at six sharp. They need no password to leave the Fort being in column of march. To get into the New Redoubt they needed yesterday's passwordтАФand that only the officer knew. Once the guard at the
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Redoubt has been relieved today's password comes into forceтАФthat again only the officer knows. And so it goes on for twenty-four hours until the new guard comes to take over. Then tomorrow evening when the'. soldiers get back to the FortтАФthey may get there at half-past six, the road is easier going backтАФthe password has changed again. So a third one is needed. The officer has to know threeтАФone for the march out, one for the tour of duty and one for coming back. All these com┬нplications so 'that the soldiers won't know what it is while on the march."
"And I say," he went on without bothering whether Drogo was paying attention or not, "I say, if only the officer knows the password and suppose he turns ill on the wayтАФwhat do the soldiers do? They can't make him speak. And they can't go back where they came from because in the meantime the word has changed there. Haven't they thought of that? And then if they want secrecy, don't they see that this way they need three passwords instead of two and the third, the one for getting back into the Fort, is given out more than twenty-four hours before? Whatever happens they must enforce it, otherwise the guard can't come back into the Fort."
"But," Drogo objected, "they know them perfectly well, at the gate, don't they? they should see that it was the guard coming off duty?"
Tronk looked at the lieutenant with a certain air of superiority.