“Of Petersburg.”
“What are you doing in Ostrog?”
“She is with me,” I interposed. “I demand protection for her.”
“I am addressing the prisoner, sir,” was his cold remark.
“You refuse to obey the request of the King of England? Good! Then I shall report you to the Minister,” I exclaimed, piqued at his insolence.
“Speak, girl!” he roared, his black eyes fixed fiercely upon her. “Why are you in Ostrog? You are no provincial—you know.”
“She is my affianced wife,” I said, “and in face of that document she need make no reply to any of your questions. Read what His Majesty commands.”
“Thank you, sir. I have already read it.” But I knew he could not read English.
A short, stout little man, shabbily dressed, pushed his way forward to the table, saying—