For myself, my busby was shot away and I had two holes through my
dolman. The Grenadiers ran at me with their bayonets.
"Treason!" I cried. "We are betrayed! Stand to your horses!" I
rushed out of the hall, but the whole square was swarming with
troops.
From every side street Dragoons and Cossacks were riding down
upon us, and such a rolling fire had burst from the surrounding
houses that half my men and horses were on the ground. "Follow
me!" I yelled, and sprang upon Violette, but a giant of a Russian
Dragoon officer threw his arms round me and we rolled on the
ground together.
He shortened his sword to kill me, but, changing his mind, he
seized me by the throat and banged my head against the stones
until I was unconscious. So it was that I became the prisoner of
the Russians.
When I came to myself my only regret was that my captor had not
beaten out my brains. There in the grand square of Minsk lay
half my troopers dead or wounded, with exultant crowds of
Russians gathered round them.
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