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‘Queer sort of modesty! why did she take money, then?’

‘Why, what then? If one’s given money, why not take it, sir?’

‘I say, Girshel, let her come again, and I ’11 let you off… only, please, don’t show your stupid phiz inside my tent, and leave us in peace; do you hear?’

Girshel’s eyes sparkled.

‘What do you say? You like her?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘She’s a lovely creature! there’s not another such anywhere. And have you something for me now?’

‘Yes, here, only listen; fair play is better than gold. Bring her and then go to the devil. I’ll escort her home myself.’

‘Oh, no, sir, no, that’s impossible, sir,’ the Jew rejoined hurriedly. ‘Ay, ay, that’s impossible. I’ll walk about near the tent, your honour, if you like; I’ll… I’ll go away, your honour, if you like, a little…. I’m ready to do your honour a service…. I’ll move away… to be sure, I will.’

‘Well, mind you do…. And bring her, do you hear?’

‘Eh, but she’s a beauty, your honour, eh? your honour, a beauty, eh?’

Girshel bent down and peeped into my eyes.

‘She’s good-looking.’

‘Well, then, give me another gold piece.’

I threw him a coin; we parted.

The day passed at last. The night came on. I had been sitting for a long while alone in my tent. It was dark outside. It struck two in the town. I was beginning to curse the Jew…. Suddenly Sara came in, alone. I jumped up took her in my arms… put my lips to her face…. It was cold as ice. I could scarcely distinguish her features…. I made her sit down, knelt down before her, took her hands, touched her waist…. She did not speak, did not stir, and suddenly she broke into loud, convulsive sobbing. I tried in vain to soothe her, to persuade her…. She wept in torrents…. I caressed her, wiped her tears; as before, she did not resist, made no answer to my questions and wept–wept, like a waterfall. I felt a pang at my heart; I got up and went out of the tent.

Girshel seemed to pop up out of the earth before me.

‘Girshel,’ I said to him, ‘here’s the money I promised you. Take Sara away.’

The Jew at once rushed up to her. She left off weeping, and clutched hold of him.

‘Good-bye, Sara,’I said to her. ‘God bless you, good-bye. We’ll see each other again some other time.’

Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and pressed it to her lips; I turned away….

For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot….

‘Mercy on us, Sara!’

She was pale and excited.

‘Your honour… help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us…. Your honour….’

She recognised me and flushed red.

‘Why, do you live here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where?’

Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the hens clucked and the duck quacked…. Two other cuirassiers were loading their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian…. I called to my men and told them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as he called her, ‘Prozherpila,’ and rode after me into the street.