The soldier pledged his host and hostess and drank.
"You are very good," he said with real gratitude. "I came to steal and go upon my way," he smiled. "And so your kindness and that of Mademoiselle covers me with confusion."
"Ah! Necessity knows no law," said the Russian pleasantly. "You shall have a bed, a night of sleep. And your necessity shall be our pleasure."
"But my intrusion! If one lives within a wall it is doubtless to keep people out. But in helping me, Monsieur, you are helping France. And in helping France,--Russia."
"Russia!" There was a finality of despair in the tone with which Kirylo Ivanitch uttered the word. "May God grant her help--for she needs it. We pray for her--as we work for her in secret--in secret."
Ivanitch clasped his bony fingers and squeezed them until the knuckles cracked. "If it will give you courage to fight with steel and bullets, I will tell you that great things are in the air, for Russia and for all the world."
"Freedom," said the American. "I know. It is written. So much blood cannot be shed in vain."
"We labor for the same end, you and I," went on the Russian. "The same end, but with different means----" And then, with a look of quick inspection--"You join the Legion soon again?"
The gaze of the Russian quickened as for the first time he noted the soldier's uniform.
"What is your name, Monsieur?"