“I never spoke to her about it,” he continued, in a low tone, “till the night we parted. She is very modest, you must know, and I never dared to speak to her before, but I became desperate that night, and told her all, and she confessed her love for me. Oh, Petroff, if I could only have had one day more of—of—but the sergeant would not wait. I had to go to the wars. One evening in paradise is but a short time, yet I would not exchange it for all I ever—” He paused.
“Yes, yes, I know all about that,” said the scout, with an encouraging nod; “I’ve had more than one evening in that region, and so will you, lad, after the war is over.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” returned the dragoon sadly; “however, she gave me this lock of her hair—she is called ‘Maria with the auburn hair’ at our place—and mother gave me the locket to put it in. I noticed that she took some grey hair out when she did so.”
“Keep it, lad; keep it always near your heart,” said the scout, with sudden enthusiasm, as the youth replaced and buttoned up his treasure; “it will save you, mayhap, like a charm, in the hour of temptation.”
“I don’t need that advice,” returned the soldier, with a quiet smile, as he once more laid his head on his saddle.
Soon the noise in our little camp ceased, and, ere long, every man was asleep except the sentinels.
Towards morning one of these observed a man approaching at full speed. As he came near the sentinel threw forward his carbine and challenged. The man stopped and looked about him like a startled hare, then, without reply, turned sharply to the left and dashed off. The sentinel fired. Of course we all sprang up, and the fugitive, doubling again to avoid another sentinel, almost leaped into the arms of André Yanovitch, who held him as if in a vice, until he ceased his struggles, and sank exhausted with a deep groan.
On being led to one of the fires in a half-fainting condition, it was found that he was covered with blood and wounds. He looked round him at first with an expression of maniacal terror, but the moment he observed Petroff among his captors he uttered a loud cry, and, springing forward seized his hand.
“Why, Lewie,” exclaimed the scout, with a gleam of recognition, “what has happened?”
“The Bashi-Bazouks have been at our village!” cried the man wildly, as he wiped the blood out of his eyes.