hushed. The sentries were relieved. I still lay there, as it were
waiting for something. The stars peeped out. The night came on. A long
while I watched the dying flame.... The last fire went out. 'The damned
Jew was taking me in,' I thought angrily, and was just going to get up.

'Your honour,'... a trembling voice whispered close to my ear.

I looked round: Girshel. He was very pale, he stammered, and whispered
something.

'Let's go to your tent, sir.' I got up and followed him. The Jew shrank
into himself, and stepped warily over the short, damp grass. I observed
on one side a motionless, muffled-up figure. The Jew beckoned to
her--she went up to him. He whispered to her, turned to me, nodded his
head several times, and we all three went into the tent. Ridiculous to
relate, I was breathless.

'You see, your honour,' the Jew whispered with an effort, 'you see.
She's a little frightened at the moment, she's frightened; but I've told
her his honour the officer's a good man, a splendid man.... Don't be
frightened, don't be frightened,' he went on--'don't be frightened....'

The muffled-up figure did not stir. I was myself in a state of dreadful
confusion, and didn't know what to say. Girshel too was fidgeting
restlessly, and gesticulating in a strange way....

'Any way,' I said to him, 'you get out....' Unwillingly, as it seemed,
Girshel obeyed.

I went up to the muffled-up figure, and gently took the dark hood off