_So_, he says, he came here. He
does not know how he came. Eh? He _was_ at Chepany[18]"--the man
caught the word, nodded, and shivered--"at Zhigansk[19] and
Irkutsk[20]. I cannot understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he
was in the forests for many years, but how many years he has
forgotten--that with many things. It was an accident; done because he
did not apologise to our colonel. Ah!"
Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record
that the White Hussars livelily exhibited unchristian delight and
other emotions, hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality.
Holmer flung the frayed and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and
the men flung themselves atop of these.
"Steady! Fifty-six--fifty-five--fifty-four," said Holmer. "Here we
are. 'Lieutenant Austin Limmason--_missing_.' That was before
Sebastopol[21]. What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their
colonels, and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped
out."
"But he never apologized. Said he'd see him----first," chorussed the
mess.
"Poor devil! I suppose he never had the chance afterward. How did he
come here?" said the colonel.
The dingy heap in the chair could give no answer.
"Do you know who you are?"
It laughed weakly.
"Do you know that you are Limmason--Lieutenant Limmason, of the White
Hussars?"
Swift as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, "Yes,
I'm Limmason, of course.
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