longer, my son! you see it is useless." Then turning
to the officer, he continued: "We had hoped that he might escape
detection in this Russian uniform, left here by the adjutant of
General Sievers, who was formerly a prisoner of war in my house, but
unfortunately the hat and cloak have betrayed him."

Feodor von Brenda looked at Gotzkowsky with admiring wonder, and this
rapidly invented _ruse de guerre_ pleased him astonishingly.

It was a piquant adventure offered him by Gotzkowsky's hate and
cunning, and he did not feel inclined to throw away such an original
and interesting chance of excitement. He, the Russian colonel, and
Count von Brenda, the favorite of the empress, degraded to a Prussian
cannoneer, whose life was in danger! His wilful and foolhardy
imagination was pleased with the idea of playing the part of a
criminal condemned to death.

"Well," asked the Austrian officer, "do you acknowledge the truth of
this statement, or do you deny being the cannoneer, Fritz?"

"Why should I deny it?" answered Feodor, shrugging his shoulders.
"This gentleman, who ought to have saved me, has already betrayed me.
I am the man whom you seek!"

With a scream of surprise, Elise threw herself toward her lover.

"No!" cried she, loudly, "no, he is--"

Her father's hand pressed heavily on her lips. "Another word, and you
are a murderess!" whispered he.

The officer looked suspiciously at them. "You do not deny," asked he
of Feodor, "that you are he who directed such a murderous fire on our
lines? You do not deny that you are the artilleryman, Fritz, and that
this cloak and hat belong to you?"

"I deny nothing!" replied Feodor, defiantly.

The officer called to some of his men and ordered them to shoulder
arms, and take the prisoner in their midst; enjoining them to keep a
sharp watch on him, and at the first attempt to escape, to shoot
him down. But when he demanded his sword of the colonel, the latter
recoiled, shocked, and resisted.

He now became aware of his foolhardiness and rashness, and that he
had not considered or foreseen the dangerous and perhaps dishonorable
consequences. However, as he had gone so far, he considered that it
would be disgraceful and cowardly to retreat now. He was also desirous
of pursuing to the end this adventure which he had begun with so much
boldness and daring. He drew his sword, and with considerable strength
breaking it in pieces, he threw them at the feet of the Austrian
officer