I handed him the paper. The general opened it, turned away again,
screwed up his eyes, frowned....

'This is most as-ton-ish-ing...' he said slowly. 'Who arrested him?'

'I, your Excellency!' Siliavka jerked out sharply.

'Ah! good! good!... Well, my good man, what do you say in your defence?'

'Your... your... your Excellency,' stammered Girshel, 'I... indeed,...
your Excellency... I'm not guilty... your Excellency; ask his honour the
officer.... I'm an agent, your Excellency, an honest agent.'

'He ought to be cross-examined,' the general murmured in an undertone,
wagging his head gravely. 'Come, how do you explain this, my friend?'
'I'm not guilty, your Excellency, I'm not guilty.'

'That is not probable, however. You were--how is it said in
Russian?--taken on the fact, that is, in the very facts!'

'Hear me, your Excellency; I am not guilty.'

'You drew the plan? you are a spy of the enemy?'

'It wasn't me!' Girshel shrieked suddenly; 'not I, your Excellency!'

The general looked at Siliavka.

'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the
plan out of his slipper.'