forget to smoke it, and relight
it, and again let it die out, until his comrades were impressed by his
absence of mind. Well did the scout know by that time the certain fate
of a village which was to be fought for by contending armies. To warn
his friend Borronow in time to remove his sister from the doomed village
became to the scout a duty which must be performed at all hazards, but
how to do this without deserting his post, and appearing to go over to
the enemy, was the difficulty.

"Something troubles you," said his young friend Andre Vanovitch, who had
for some time sat smoking quietly at his side, gazing into the fire, and
thinking, no doubt, of the girl with the auburn hair, far away in the
land of the Muscove.

"Yes, I'm troubled about friends," was the scout's laconic answer.

"Oh! they're all right, you may be sure, now that our fellows have
crossed the Danube in such force," said Andre, supposing that the other
referred to his family.

"Perhaps!" returned Petroff, and relapsed into silence.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he had overheard some expression among
the officers around the General of a desire to know more particularly
about the disposition of the Turkish force, and the suggestion that a
spy should be sent out. His brow cleared at once; with almost a
triumphant look on his countenance, he turned sharply to Andre, and
seized his arm.

"Well, Dobri," said the latter, with a smile and look of surprise, "I
have had perfect faith in the strength of your grip without requiring
positive proof."

"Listen," said the scout earnestly. "I have a job to do, and a risk to
run."

"That is obvious to every one in the division," returned Andre, with a
touch of the smile still curling his young moustache.

"Ay, but I mean a private job, and a great risk--the risk of being shot
as a traitor or a spy, and I want you, Andre, to clear my character with
the Russians if it fares ill with me."

Petroff's unwonted energy of action and earnestness of look and tone
produced their effect on the young dragoon. He listened intently while
his friend told him of his intended plan.

"But why go into the enemy's lines without permission?" objected Andre.
"Why risk being thought a deserter when you have only to go and ask
leave? It seems to me they would be only too glad to accept your
services as a spy."

"I'm not certain that they would accept them," replied the scout, with a
return of the perplexed look; "an