“I’ll teach you the law. Who spoke. You? You?”
“Everybody says so, because-” said a short, broad-faced prisoner.
Before he had finished speaking the officer hit him in the face.
“Mutiny, is it? I’ll show you what mutiny means. I’ll have you all shot like dogs, and the authorities will be only too thankful. Take the girl.”
The crowd was silent. One convoy soldier pulled away the girl, who was screaming desperately, while another manacled the prisoner, who now submissively held out his hand.
“Take her to the women,” shouted the officer, arranging his sword belt.
The little girl, whose face had grown quite red, was trying to disengage her arms from under the shawl, and screamed unceasingly. Mary Pavlovna stepped out from among the crowd and came up to the officer.
“Will you allow me to carry the little girl?” she said.
“Who are you?” asked the officer.
“A political prisoner.”