“One of them shot me; I thought it was to be sabres,” said I, weakly.
“And why the devil wasn’t it sabres!” roared the officer, turning on his men. “One to three—and six more below! Sepp, you disgust me. Carry him out!”
I groaned as they lifted me. “Easy there!” growled the officer, “don’t pull him that way. Now, young hell-cat, set your teeth; you have eight more lives yet.”
They got me out to the terrace, and carried me to the lawn. One of the men brought a cup of water from the pool.
“Herr Rittmeister,” I said, faintly, “I had a prisoner here; he should be in the carriage. Is he?”
The officer walked briskly over to the carriage. “Nobody here but two women and a scared peasant!” he called out. 58
As I lay still staring up into the sky, I heard the Rittmeister addressing Dr. Delmont in angry tones. “By every law of civilized war I ought to hang you and your friend there! Civilians who fire on troops are treated that way. But I won’t. Your foolish companion lies yonder with a lance through his mouth. He’s dead; I say nothing. For you, I have no respect. But I have for that hell-cat who did his duty. You civilians—you go to the devil!”
“Are not your prisoners sacred from insult?” asked the doctor, angrily.
“Prisoners! My prisoners! You compliment yourself! Loisel! Send those impudent civilians into the house! I won’t look at them! They make me sick!”
The astonished doctor attempted to take his stand by me, offering his services, but the troopers hustled him and poor Tavernier off up the terrace steps.