"I have been robbed," the officer continued; "I am sorry for it, as I meant the things for you."
The footsteps of the patrol became more and more distinct.
"Some one is coming," the marauder said, preparing to go away.
The officer, raising his arm with difficulty, stopped him.
"You have saved my life; who are you?"
The prowler answered rapidly and in a low voice.
"I belong, like yourself, to the French army; but I must leave you, for if I were caught I should be shot. I have saved your life, so now get out of the scrape as you can."
"What is your rank?"
"Sergeant."
"Your name?"