"Then let me be one of your new officers," pleaded Ian.
He was beginning to like this gruff, grizzled soldier. He did not want to volunteer in France, for that would mean going a long way from Vanda, and separating his mother from her. In his shy way he tried to convey his eagerness to join the Russian army, and the Colonel's manner softened.
"Eh, God. I think you'd make a good soldier. I can't say ay or nay. The matter lies with my superiors."
"But you can recommend me," he urged.
"I can and will. I haven't a card. Have you a scrap of paper?"
Ian searched and produced a card and pencil, also his electric torch. The Cossack wrote some lines and handed the card back.
"Now, headquarters will be in Rostov. It is a long journey. But do you go there and say I sent you. It's written on the card. We shall meet there within a fortnight, but I must go to that German cesspool first."
"So must I."
"Ah! Where will you lodge?"
"I don't know yet. But they'll tell you at the Orsov Palace."