"Peste!" he exclaimed. "Are you mad, sergeant, to come and beat so on the commandant's door? Go away before it is light enough for me to recognise you. Go, I say, or I shall know you, and then there will be trouble."
"Give way. I have important information for the colonel. Let me pass," gasped the sergeant, thrusting the man aside and pushing his way into the hut. A moment or two later he was confronting the wounded officer, and for some ten minutes the two were closeted together, much to the amazement of the soldier servant.
"There, there, Armand, you must leave us," said the colonel, as his valet rushed in after the sergeant with the intention of ejecting the intruder. "Our friend has news for me. Withdraw. Come again when I knock, and have no fear. Our friend is in his sober senses."
"I am glad that you have come to me, sergeant," he said, at the end of their interview. "Glad to think there are some here who have kind hearts still after all this bitter warfare. Not for worlds would I have this lad injured, for he behaved with noble generosity to me. Go now, summon your firing party, and march the squad to the hut where this prisoner lies. If any dare give you an order to proceed with this unjust and cruel execution, show this note. Though I am wounded and incapable at the moment, I am still nominally, if not actively, in command, and I will have my orders obeyed. Go, and I will follow presently."
Half an hour later Steve awoke to the fact that men were gathering outside the hut in which he lay. He could hear the tramp of their boots on the frozen ground, and the ring of their muskets as they stood at ease. The voice of the sergeant came to his ears as he gave the commands. "Attention! Shoulder your pieces! Stand steady there, lads, for Monsieur Jules Lapon comes to inspect you."
The door was thrown open, a gust of freezing air swept the apartment, and there was Jules, muffled in furs, his face haggard and weary as if he had some great weight on his mind which had kept him wakeful since the arrival of the prisoner, two bright, hectic spots on his cheeks and staring, blood-shot eyes which seemed to denote a fever. And despite the cruel smile now on his lips, it wanted no acute observer to see that this young man, with all his bravado, was hesitating as to his course of action, not out of compassion for the prisoner, but for fear of what might happen to himself. However, the sight of Steve's calm face settled the question.