ad a melancholy expression under
their bristling grey eyebrows; his ragged moustache, also grey, was
constantly twitching; his feet were bound round with rags, his cloak was
torn and had a blood-stain on one shoulder.

"What is this blood?"

"Kyriloff tickled him up a little with his bayonet behind the bush,
Colonel."

"Why?"

"Because, Colonel, it was in vain that we called to him in good Russian,
'Come out, shaven-pate!' He did not listen to us, but only waved his
hands. Kyriloff was annoyed, and pricked him a little. Then he left his
bush. To tell the truth, we wanted to finish him on the spot, but
Lieutenant Vassilieff told us to bring him here."

"Somione! give him a chair."

The prisoner sat down, after placing his hand on his heart, his mouth,
and his head successively. His expression was still melancholy; he
evidently did not expect anything pleasant from his new masters. His
large nose drooped over his ragged moustaches, his head was sunk between
his shoulders.

II. THE EXAMINATION

Having, in the course of his military career, served in the regiment on
the frontier of the Caucasus, the Major had picked up a little Turkish.
So they dispensed with an interpreter.

"I think we have met before?" he said to the prisoner. "You are Colonel
Mahmoud Bey?"

The Turk lowered his head, and assumed an attitude of utter prostration.

"Perhaps there is a mistake, and I am taking you for some one else?"
added the Major.

"I never lie!" said the prisoner, rising. "I escaped here from Kazanlik
and have been recaptured by your soldiers. One cannot go far on foot!"
he added, smiling sadly, "especially when one is, like myself, wounded
in the head and the leg. And I have been again wounded in the shoulder."

"You should know that according to the usages of war," answered the
Major, who attempted, but in vain, to speak in an official tone.

"It is superfluous to tell me that. The power is on your side. You are
the victors; tell them to kill me. I knew perfectly well the risk I ran
when last night I escaped from the house of the officer in whose charge
I was. I have played, I have lost, and I must die."

The Major, touched by the prisoner's tone, began to speak to him more
gently.

"Were you uncomfortable where you lodged?"

"No."

"Did they treat you well?"

"The officer with whom I lodged is a very generous man. He obliged me to
take his bed; he gave me food and drink; he treated me like a brother
not