the
English.

XXXII

NEWS OF AN OLD FRIEND

"Dear Friend and Comrade,--Although it is still painful for me to write,
I cannot deny myself the pleasure of being the first to congratulate you
on receiving the Order of St. Vladimir. A friend in the War Office has
just informed me that the announcement has appeared in the Gazette. I
hope that this decoration, which you so fully earned by your services at
the occupation of Simla, will cause you some satisfaction. You are aware
that the Vladimir can only be bestowed on Russians or foreigners in the
service of Russia, and thus you will be one of the few German officers
whose breast is adorned with this mark of distinction so highly prized
in this country.

"You will be surprised that my congratulations are sent from St.
Petersburg; no doubt you thought of me as still in sunny India, the
theatre of our mutual adventures in the war. I should certainly have
remained there till the end of the campaign, had not an English bullet
temporarily put an end to my military activity--all too soon for my
ambition, as you can imagine. Uninjured in two great battles and
a number of trifling skirmishes, I was unhappily destined to be
incapacitated in quite an unimportant and inglorious encounter. Had I
not been saved by an heroic woman, you would have heard no more of your
old friend Tchajawadse, except that he was one of those who had remained
on the field of honour.

"Can you guess the name of this woman, comrade? I do not think you can
have entirely forgotten my supposed page Georgi, and I am telling you
nothing new to-day in lifting the veil of the secrecy, with which for
obvious reasons I was obliged to shroud his relations to me in India.
Georgi was a girl, and for years she has been dearer to me than anyone
else. She was of humble birth, and possessed little of what we call
culture. But, nevertheless, she was to me the dearest creature that
I have ever met on my wanderings through two continents; a wonderful
compound of savagery and goodness of heart, of ungovernable pride and
unselfish, devoted affection--a child and a heroine. She had given
herself to me, and followed me on my journeys from pure inclination, not
for the sake of any advantage. It had been her own wish to play the part
of a servant. I do not, however, mean to say that she never made use
of the power she possessed over me, for she was proud, and knew how to
govern.

"Once, at the beginning of our Indian