“By my honor. Only speak out!”
“The czar is on his way out to the camp.”
“Very good, he is my gracious lord.”
The adjutant pointed at Lina Andersdotter.
“The czar has a fancy for tall brunettes,” said Ogilvy.
“Your Excellency, in these last days he has changed his taste.”
“God! Call the troops to arms—and forward with the three-horse wagon!”
Now the alarm was struck. Drums rolled, trumpets shattered, weapons clattered, and shouts and trampling filled the night. The drinking party was broken up, and Lina Andersdotter was set in a baggage-wagon.
Beside the peasant who was driving, a soldier sprang up with a lighted lantern, and she heard the peasant softly inquire of him the purpose of the flight.
“The czar,” answered the soldier in a monotone and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the girl.