"It is for the sake of your family that I question you. You have children?"
The prisoner's head sank still lower. There was silence.
"Have you many children?" added the Major.
"Four," murmured Mahmoud Bey in a low voice.
"Are they grown up?"
"No, all little. The eldest of the little girls is just six."
"Just the age of my rascal," said the Major, as though speaking to himself.
"My girl will be very beautiful when she grows up," said the prisoner in a livelier tone. "She has large eyes, which glow already. It is five months since I saw her; she wept much when I went away. My youngest is not yet a year old; he could not yet walk at the time of my departure. They all live down there just outside Adrianople. I had a house and vineyard ... it is so pleasant there. I hoped to see them growing up under my eyes, the little brats. Then this war had to come. A curse on those who provoked it. God is just; He will punish those who have shed our blood and destroyed the happiness of our children."
"Yes, what is the good of war?" exclaimed the Major. "What is the use of it? All my fortune is my officer's pay. If I am killed to-morrow, what will become of my family?"
The examination of the prisoner had changed its character and become a conversation about families. The Major translated everything to the Colonel and the latter felt a keen sympathy with the prisoner's misfortunes.