"I think you will find it advisable to inform M. Zolarevitch" (then
minister of War) "that Count Weringrode sends his regards."

I saw them looking rather curiously at each other and then the center
inquisitor fired a lot of questions at me, in answer to which I only
shrugged my shoulders.

"That's all I have to say, monsieur."

I was shoved back in my cell. About four that afternoon one of the
officers came to see me.

"Your message has not been sent. My comrades were against sending it,
but I am related to Zolarevitch. So if you can show me some reason, I
shall take your message."

I gave him some reason. So much so that he did not lose any time
getting under way. In fact, it was a very pale, perturbed officer who
rushed out of my cell. I didn't worry much, but when at about 7.30
the cell door opened and two sentries with fixed bayonets and
cartridge pouches entered, placed me in the center and marched me into
the courtyard, where ten more likewise equipped soldiers in charge of
an officer awaited me, I felt somewhat green. I know a firing squad
when I see one. I knew if my message ever reached responsible
quarters, nothing could happen to me; but these were motley times and
all sorts of delays may have happened to the officer.

"Right about wheel" and myself in the center, we marched out of the
courtyard to a little hill to the west of the Citadel.