te close together, the short one some distance away.

"Officer!" one of them cried in a desperate voice--Andersen could not
see which it was--"God sees us! Officer!"

Eight soldiers dismounted quickly, their spurs and sabres catching
awkwardly. Evidently they were in a hurry, as if doing a thief's job.

Several seconds passed in silence until the soldiers placed themselves
in a row a few feet from the black figures and levelled their guns. In
doing so one soldier knocked his cap from his head. He picked it up
and put it on again without brushing off the wet snow.

The officer's mount still kept dancing on one spot with his ears
pricked, while the other horses, also with sharp ears erect to catch
every sound, stood motionless looking at the men in black, their long
wise heads inclined to one side.

"Spare the boy at least!" another voice suddenly pierced the air. "Why
kill a child, damn you! What has the child done?"

"Ivanov, do what I told you to do," thundered the officer, drowning
the other voice. His face turned as scarlet as a piece of red flannel.

There followed a scene savage and repulsive in its gruesomeness. The
short figure in black, with the light hair and the rosy ears, uttered
a wild shriek in a shrill child's tones and reeled to one side.
Instantly it was caught up by two or three soldiers. But the boy began
to struggle, and two more soldiers ran up.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow!" the boy cried. "Let me go, let me go! Ow-ow!"

His shrill voice cut the air like the yell of a stuck porkling not
quite done to death. Suddenly he grew quiet. Some one must have struck
him. An unexpected, oppressive silence ensued. The boy was being
pushed forward. Then there came a deafening report. Andersen started
back all in a tremble. He saw distinctly, yet vaguely as in a dream,
the dropping of two dark bodies, the flash of pale sparks, and a light
smoke rising in the clean, bright atmosphere. He saw the soldiers
hastily mounting their horses without even glancing at the bodies. He
saw them galloping along the muddy road, their arms clanking, their
horses' hoofs clattering.

He saw all this, himself now standing in the middle of the road, not
knowing when and why he had jumped from behind the haystack. He was
deathly pale. His face was covered with dank sweat, his body was
aquiver. A physical sadness smote and tortured him. He could not make
out the nature of the feeling. It was akin to extreme sickness, though
far more nausea