clattering and jingling up the
stone steps. As I gained the doorway they shot at me, but I only fled
the faster, springing up the stairway. Here I stood, sabre in hand,
ready to stop the first man.

Up the stairs rushed three Uhlans, sabres shining in the dim light
from the window behind me; I laid my forefinger flat on the blade of
my sabre and shortened my arm for a thrust--then there came a blinding
flash, a roar, and I was down, trying to rise, until a clinched fist
struck me in the face and I fell flat on my back.

Without any emotion whatever I saw an Uhlan raise his sabre to finish
me; also I saw a yellow-and-black sleeve interposed between death and
myself.

"No butchery!" growled the big officer who had summoned me from the
lawn. "Cursed pig, you'd sabre your own grandmother! Lift him, Sepp!
You, there, Loisel!--lift him up. Is he gone?"

"He is alive, Herr Rittmeister," said a soldier, "but his back is
broken."

"It isn't," I said.

"Herr Je!" muttered the Rittmeister; "an eel, and a Frenchman, and
nine long lives! Here, you hussar, what's the matter with you?"

"One of them shot me; I thought it was to be sabres," said I,
weakly.

"And why the devil wasn't it sabres!" roared the officer, turning on
his men. "One to three--and six more below! Sepp, you disgust me.
Carry him out!"

I groaned as they lifted me. "Easy there!" growled the officer,
"don't pull him that way. Now, young hell-cat, set your teeth; you
have eight more lives yet."

They got me out to the terrace, and carried me to the lawn. One of the
men brought a cup of water from the pool.

"Herr Rittmeister," I said, faintly, "I had a prisoner here; he
should be in the carriage. Is he?"

The officer walked briskly over to the carriage. "Nobody here but two
women and a scared peasant!" he called out.

As I lay still staring up into the sky, I heard the Rittmeister
addressing Dr. Delmont in angry tones. "By every law of civilized war
I ought to hang you and your friend there! Civilians who fire on
troops are treated that way. But I won't. Your foolish companion lies
yonder with a lance through his mouth. He's dead; I say nothing. For
you, I have no respect. But I have for that hell-cat who did his duty.
You civilians--you go to the devil!"

"Are not your prisoners sacred from insult?" asked the doctor,
angrily.

"Prisoners! _My_ prisoners! You compliment yourself! Loisel! Send
those impudent civilians into the house! I won't look