ry, was there not?"
I only looked at him.
"Do you hear?" he repeated, sharply. "You are a prisoner, and I am
questioning you."
"You have that useless privilege," I observed.
"If you are insolent I will have you shot!" he retorted, staring
haughtily at me.
I glanced out of the window.
There was a pause; the hand of the Countess de Vassart trembled on my
shoulder.
Under the window strident Prussian bugles were blowing a harsh
summons; the young officer stepped to the loop-hole and looked out,
then hastily removed his helmet and thrust his blond head through the
smoky aperture. "March those prisoners in below!" he shouted down.
Then he withdrew his head, put on his polished helmet of black
leather, faced with the glittering Prussian eagle, and tightened the
gold-scaled cheek-guard.
A moment later came a trample of feet on the landing outside, the door
was flung open, and three prisoners were brutally pushed into the
room.
I tried to turn and look at them; they stood in the dusk near the bed,
but I could only make out that one was a Turco, his jacket in rags,
his canvas breeches covered with mud.
Again the lieutenant came to the loop-hole and glanced out, then shook
his head, motioning the soldiers back.
"It is too high and the arc of fire too limited," he said, shortly.
"Detail four men to hold the stairs, ten men and a sergeant in the
room below, and you'd better take your prisoners down there. Bayonet
that Turco tiger if he shows his teeth again. March!"
As the prisoners filed out I turned once more and thought I recognized
Salah Ben-Ahmed in the dishevelled Turco, but could not be certain,
so disfigured and tattered the soldier appeared.
"Here, you hussar prisoner!" cried the lieutenant, pointing at me
with his white-gloved finger, "turn your head and busy yourself with
what concerns you. And you, madame," he added, pompously, "see that
you give us no trouble and stay in this room until you have permission
to leave."
"Are--are you speaking to me, monsieur?" asked the Countess, amazed.
Then she rose, exasperated.
"Your insolence disgraces your uniform," she said. "Go to your
French prisoners and learn the rudiments of courtesy!"
The officer reddened to his colorless eyebrows; his little,
near-sighted eyes became stupid and fixed; he smoothed the blond down
on his upper lip with hesitating fingers.
Suddenly he turned and marched out, slamming the door violently behind
him.
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