y shoulders.

"You have a kind face, Etienne," said she; "you would not condemn this
poor man to certain death. I entreat you to let him go."

Her delicate hand rested upon my sleeve, her dark eyes looked
imploringly into mine.

A sudden thought passed through my mind. I would grant her request, but
I would demand a favour in return.

At my order the prisoner was brought up into the room.

"Captain Barakoff," said I, "this young lady has begged me to release
you, and I am inclined to do so. I would ask you to give your parole
that you will remain in this dwelling for twenty-four hours, and take no
steps to inform anyone of our movements."

"I will do so," said he.

"Then I trust in your honour. One man more or less can make no
difference in a struggle between great armies, and to take you back as
a prisoner would be to condemn you to death. Depart, sir, and show your
gratitude not to me, but to the first French officer who falls into your
hands."

When he was gone I drew my paper from my pocket.

"Now, Sophie," said I, "I have done what you asked me, and all that I
ask in return is that you will give me a lesson in Russian."

"With all my heart," said she.

"Let us begin on this," said I, spreading out the paper before her. "Let
us take it word for word and see what it means."

She looked at the writing with some surprise. "It means," said she, "if
the French come to Minsk all is lost." Suddenly a look of consternation
passed over her beautiful face. "Great Heavens!" she cried, "what is it
that I have done? I have betrayed my country! Oh, Etienne, your eyes are
the last for whom this message is meant. How could you be so cunning as
to make a poor, simple-minded, and unsuspecting girl betray the cause of
her country?"

I consoled my poor Sophie as best I might, and I assured her that it was
no reproach to her that she should be outwitted by so old a campaigner
and so shrewd a man as myself. But it was no time now for talk. This
message made it clear that the corn was indeed at Minsk, and that there
were no troops there to defend it. I gave a hurried order from the
window, the trumpeter blew the assembly, and in ten minutes we had left
the village behind us and were riding hard for the city, the gilded
domes and minarets of which glimmered above the snow of the horizon.
Higher they rose and higher, until at last, as the sun sank toward the
west, we were in the broad main street, and galloped up it amid the