A killed dragoon and horse
Peasants shot down
Guerilla warfare
side, a little behind me, and another at my left. A third man in civil dress, evidently an officer, stood immediately behind the general. A Cossack guard, rifle in hand, stood by the door. It was evident that, in spite of my credentials, the general had decided to keep an eye upon me. He knew full well that sooner or later his life would be attempted, as indeed it was a few weeks after this interview.[5]
Without further preliminary, I came abruptly to the point upon which I desired light.
“Your Excellency,” I said, “I have come to you on a strange errand. I have heard worse stories about you than I have ever heard about any living human being. As an American I do not wish to repeat these stories to my countrymen, if they are not true. On the other hand, if they are true, I want to hear your side of the case, your justification—if such there be.”
The general was somewhat surprised by my abruptness, but inquired as to the nature of these stories.