'Girshel,' I said to him, 'here's the money I promised you. Take Sara away.'
The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched hold of him.
'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each other again some other time.'
Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and pressed it to her lips; I turned away....
For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot....
'Mercy on us, Sara!'
She was pale and excited.
'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... Your honour....'
She recognised me and flushed red.
'Why, do you live here?'