“The two ladies in the carriage, Herr Rittmeister?” said a cavalryman, coming up at salute.
“What? Ladies? Oh yes.” Then he muttered in his mustache: “Always around—always everywhere. They can’t stay there. I want that carriage. Sepp!”
“At orders, Herr Rittmeister!”
“Carry that gentleman to the carriage. Place Schwartz and Ruppert in the wagon yonder. Get straw—you, Brauer, bring straw—and toss in those boxes, if there is room. Where’s Hofman?”
“In the pool, Herr Rittmeister.”
“Take him out,” said the officer, soberly. “Uhlans don’t abandon their dead.”
Two soldiers lifted me again and bore me away in the darkness. I was perfectly conscious.
And all the while I was listening for the gallop of my gendarmes, not that I cared very much, now that Buckhurst was gone. 59
“Herr Rittmeister,” I said, as they laid me in the carriage, “ask the Countess de Vassart if she will let me say good-bye to her.”
“With pleasure,” said the officer, promptly. “Madame, here is a polite young gentleman who desires to make his adieux. Permit me, madame—he is here in the dark. Sepp! fall back! Loisel, advance ten paces! Halt!”