第109章

NEWS OF AN OLD FRIEND

"Dear Friend and Comrade,--Although it is still painful for me to write, I cannot deny myself the pleasure of being the first to congratulate you on receiving the Order of St.Vladimir.A friend in the War Office has just informed me that the announcement has appeared in the Gazette.I hope that this decoration, which you so fully earned by your services at the occupation of Simla, will cause you some satisfaction.You are aware that the Vladimir can only be bestowed on Russians or foreigners in the service of Russia, and thus you will be one of the few German officers whose breast is adorned with this mark of distinction so highly prized in this country.

"You will be surprised that my congratulations are sent from St.

Petersburg; no doubt you thought of me as still in sunny India, the theatre of our mutual adventures in the war.I should certainly have remained there till the end of the campaign, had not an English bullet temporarily put an end to my military activity--all too soon for my ambition, as you can imagine.Uninjured in two great battles and a number of trifling skirmishes, I was unhappily destined to be incapacitated in quite an unimportant and inglorious encounter.Had I not been saved by an heroic woman, you would have heard no more of your old friend Tchajawadse, except that he was one of those who had remained on the field of honour.

"Can you guess the name of this woman, comrade? I do not think you can have entirely forgotten my supposed page Georgi, and I am telling you nothing new to-day in lifting the veil of the secrecy, with which for obvious reasons I was obliged to shroud his relations to me in India.Georgi was a girl, and for years she has been dearer to me than anyone else.She was of humble birth, and possessed little of what we call culture.But, nevertheless, she was to me the dearest creature that I have ever met on my wanderings through two continents; a wonderful compound of savagery and goodness of heart, of ungovernable pride and unselfish, devoted affection--a child and a heroine.She had given herself to me, and followed me on my journeys from pure inclination, not for the sake of any advantage.It had been her own wish to play the part of a servant.I do not, however, mean to say that she never made use of the power she possessed over me, for she was proud, and knew how to govern.

"Once, at the beginning of our Indian journey, extremely irritated by her obstinate pride, I raised my hand against her.One look from her brought me to my senses before the punishment followed.

Afterwards, when my blood had long cooled, she said to me, her eyes still blazing with anger, 'If you had really struck me I should have left you at once, and no entreaties would ever have induced me to return to you.' I laughed at her words, but from that time exercised more control over myself.We lived in perfect harmony till the day when Georgi saved your life in Lahore, my valued comrade.It was she who brought me the terrible news that you were being led away to death.I had never seen the girl so fearfully excited before.Her eyes glistened and her whole frame trembled.

It seemed as if she would have driven me forward with the lash, that I might not be too late.I myself was too anxious to worry my head much about the girl's singular excitement.But after you were happily saved, when you were concealed in my tent, and I looked for Georgi to tell her of the result of my intervention, she fell into such a paroxysm of joy that my jealous suspicions were aroused.

Carried away by excitement I flung an insult at her, and then, when she answered me defiantly--to her misfortune and mine I had my riding-whip in my hand--I committed a hateful act, which I would rather have recalled than any of my other numerous follies.She received the blow in silence.The next moment she had disappeared, and I waited in vain for her return.Till we left Simla I had her searched for everywhere, but no trace of her could be found.Imyself then gave her up for lost.After our return to Lahore, when we were marching on to Delhi, I occasionally heard of a girl wearing Indian dress who had appeared in the neighbourhood of our troop and resembled my lost page Georgi.But as soon as I made inquiries after this girl it seemed as if the earth had swallowed her up, and under the rapidly changing impressions of the war her image gradually faded from my mind.

"During a reconnaissance near Lucknow, which I had undertaken with my regimental staff and a small escort, my own carelessness led us into an ambuscade set by the English, which cost most of my companions their lives.At the beginning of the encounter a shot in the back had unhorsed me.I was taken for dead, and those few of my companions who were able to save themselves by flight had no time to take the fallen with them.After lying for a long time unconscious, I saw, on awaking, a number of armed Indians plundering the dead and wounded.One of the brown devils approached me.When he saw me lifting myself up to grasp my revolver, he rushed upon me brandishing his sword.I parried the first thrust at my head with my right arm.Defenceless as I was, Iwas already prepared for the worst.But at the moment, when the rascal was lifting up his arm for another thrust, he reeled backwards and collapsed without uttering a sound.It was Georgi, who had saved my life by a well-directed shot.

"She had accompanied the dragoons sent from our camp to recover the dead and wounded, and had got considerably in advance of the horsemen.Hence it had been possible for her to save me.

"I was too weak to ask her many questions, and my memory is a blank as to the few moments of this meeting.