Night falls.
Peterovich and two other officers squeezed into a room.
The fireplace burned weakly, providing almost no warmth. However, this condition was relatively good in Chernigov, considering the city's population was only 12,000 people, and nearly 3,000 soldiers had arrived this time.
A captain from the Ryazan Infantry Regiment, lying on a floor bed, extinguished the candle and whispered to Peterovich: "Do you think that matter is true? You must be more knowledgeable than us in Saint Petersburg."
Peterovich turned over in the dark: "Which matter are you talking about?"
The captain's voice was even lower: "It's, ah, the curse, concerning His Majesty Paul..."
If it were daytime, Peterovich would have sternly stopped him, but now he merely said lazily: "Who knows? No one dares to talk about it in Saint Petersburg, or you might be taken away by the police any time."
