I took
the key from her hand.
"You will find Captain Barakoff at the end of the village
street," said she. "We of the North never forget either an
injury or a kindness. He has your mare and your sword waiting
for you. Do not delay an instant, for in two hours it will be
dawn."
So I passed out into the star-lit Russian night, and had that
last glimpse of Sophie as she peered after me through the open
door. She looked wistfully at me as if she expected something
more than the cold thanks which I gave her, but even the humblest
man has his pride, and I will not deny that mine was hurt by the
deception which she had played upon me. I could not have brought
myself to kiss her hand, far less her lips. The door led into a
narrow alley, and at the end of it stood a muffled figure, who
held Violette by the bridle.
"You told me to be kind to the next French officer whom I found
in distress," said he. "Good luck! Bon voyage!" he whispered,
as I bounded into the saddle.
"Remember, 'Poltava' is the watchword.
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