I knew as soon as I saw it!"

"Shut up, you!" ordered Jovannic, with the parade-snarl in his voice.
"And now, untie that man!"

He flung out a peremptory hand; in the girl's presence he meant to
have an end of the sergeant's easy manners. But now it was she who
astonished him by intervening.

"No!" she cried. "No!"

She moved a swift step nearer to the bound man, her arms half
outspread as though she would guard him from them; her face, with its
luminous, soft pallor, was suddenly desperate and strange.

"No!" she cried again. "You mustn't, you mustn't untie him now! You,
you don't know. Oh, wait while I speak to him! Luigi!" She turned to
the prisoner and began to speak with a quick, low urgency; her face,
importunate and fearful, was close to the still mask of his. "Luigi,
promise me! If I let them, if they untie your hands, will you promise
not to, not to do it? Luigi will you?"

Jovannic could only stare at them, bewildered. He heard her pleading
"Will you? Will you promise me, Luigi?" passionately, as though she
would woo him to compliance. The peasant answered nothing; his slow
eyes rested with a sort of heavy meditation on the eagerness of her
face. They seemed to be alone in the midst of the soldiers, like men
among statues. Then, beyond them, he caught sight of the old
sergeant, watching with a kind of critical sympathy; he, at any rate,
understood it all.

But Jovannic began in uncertain protest. None heeded him. The
prisoner sighed and moved a shoulder in a half-shrug as of
deprecation. "No, signorina," he said at last.

"Oh!" The sound was like a wail. The girl swayed back from him.

The sergeant clapped the man on the shoulder. "Be a good lad now!" he
said. "Promise the young lady you'll behave and we'll have the cords
off as quick as we can cut them. Promise her, such a nice young lady
and all!"

The prisoner shook his head wearily. The girl, watching him,
shivered.

"All this" Jovannic roused himself. "I don't understand. What's going
on here? Sergeant, what's it all about?"

The old man made a grimace. "She knows," he said, with a nod towards
the girl. "That proves it's spreading. It's got so now that if you
only clout one of 'em on the side of the head he'll go out and kill
himself. Won't let you so much as touch 'em!"

"What!" Jovannic gaped at him. "Kill themselves? You mean if his
hands are untied, that man will?"

"Him?" The sergeant snorted. "Tonight if he can; tomorrow if he
ca