“One moment, Major Sergine,” cried Sophie. “You must not be so hard upon this prisoner. There are some special reasons why he has a claim upon our kindness and mercy.”
The Russian looked with suspicion upon his face from her to me.
“What are the special reasons? You certainly seem to take a remarkable interest in this Frenchman,” said he.
“The chief reason is that he has this very morning of his own accord released Captain Alexis Barakoff, of the Dragoons of Grodno.”
“It is true,” said Barakoff, who had come out of the house. “He captured me this morning, and he released me upon parole rather than take me back to the French army, where I should have been starved.”
“Since Colonel Gerard has acted so generously you will surely, now that fortune has changed, allow us to offer him the poor shelter of our cellar upon this bitter night,” said Sophie. “It is a small return for his generosity.”
But the Dragoon was still in the sulks.
“Let him give me his parole first that he will not attempt to escape,” said he. “Do you hear, sir? Do you give me your parole?”
“I give you nothing,” said I.
“Colonel Gerard,” cried Sophie, turning to me with a coaxing smile, “you will give me your parole, will you not?”