With a scream of surprise, Elise threw herself toward her lover.
"No!" cried she, loudly, "no, he is—"
Her father's hand pressed heavily on her lips. "Another word, and you are a murderess!" whispered he.
The officer looked suspiciously at them. "You do not deny," asked he of Feodor, "that you are he who directed such a murderous fire on our lines? You do not deny that you are the artilleryman, Fritz, and that this cloak and hat belong to you?"
"I deny nothing!" replied Feodor, defiantly.
The officer called to some of his men and ordered them to shoulder arms, and take the prisoner in their midst; enjoining them to keep a sharp watch on him, and at the first attempt to escape, to shoot him down. But when he demanded his sword of the colonel, the latter recoiled, shocked, and resisted.
He now became aware of his foolhardiness and rashness, and that he had not considered or foreseen the dangerous and perhaps dishonorable consequences. However, as he had gone so far, he considered that it would be disgraceful and cowardly to retreat now. He was also desirous of pursuing to the end this adventure which he had begun with so much boldness and daring. He drew his sword, and with considerable strength breaking it in pieces, he threw them at the feet of the Austrian officer.
That officer shrugged his shoulders. "Your insolence will only make your situation worse. Remember, you are our prisoner."
"He must and shall die!" shouted the soldiers, thronging around
Feodor, angrily.
The officer ordered silence. "He must die," said he, "that is true; but we must first carry him to the general, to obtain the price offered for him."