“I am directed,” he said, “by the officer in charge, to conduct you from the hall.”
“And if I refuse to go?”
“I shall remove you by force.”
It was all spoken quietly, deliberately, with determination on the one hand, with repressed indignation on the other. For a moment the young radical looked into the eyes of the young soldier. What he saw there evidently determined him in his course.
“So far that you are soldier,” he said, “I defy you. So far that you are gentleman, whom I respect, I yield myself to your wish that I go.”
He rose, took his place by the side of the sergeant, and, followed by the detail, they moved down the hall to the big street doors from which Donatello disappeared into the darkness. Then the squad returned to the line, the second sergeant directed his men to their places in the ranks, and, facing his superior officer he saluted and reported:
“Your orders have been obeyed, sir.”
The first sergeant returned the salute and responded concisely:
“Take your post!”