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K. M. CAPEK
489

—no doubt of it, I came to as they were prying my fingers off his throat. My sabre did not cut through his turban even.

(Erna sighs in relieved suspense. Lena shudders.)

Burris.—Both of us were lying stretched across a heap of slain victims of our attempt to storm the slope.

Four charges of our battery, and the enemy was routed. The general and his staff happened on the scene, just as the hospital corps found me. He stopped to stare at the green turban. It was Smail Beg Imam himself. He had remained in Bosnia with the Turk forces, and had gone over to the insurgents as the most daring of guerilla leaders against the armies of occupation. The brigadier himself congratulated me, and it was only when he offered me his hand that I realized I could not move. I also perceived that the side of my uniform was soaked with blood.

In remembrance of the occasion the captain presented me with the pistol of the Beg, out of which I had been shot. It is rather awkward as a firearm, but very valuable as a token. An old fashioned flintlock, richly inlaid with gold.

Rudolph (Eagerly).—Where is it? Das ist mein Fall. I am a connoisseur.

Burris.—I brought it with me. It is a sort of pistol-carbine—two or three times as heavy as our Austrian cavalry rifle.

Rudolph (With growing interest)—I should like to see it. I had a fine collection at Vienna, but had to sell.

Burris.—You shall see it. If you excuse me, I’ll be back in a minute.

Erna.—Mr. Burris, perhaps . . .

Burris.—The slightest wish of the baron is my law.

Rudolph (Relenting)—Aber Kamarad. Time enough tomorrow.

Burris.—At once. (Goes out.)

(Rudolph and Erna exchange mocking glances at the expenses of Lena, recognizing her more than friendly interest in Burris. In pantomime they go over the possibilities and the consequences of a match between the two. Erna steals up to Rudolph and whispers in his ear. Their silent exchange of ideas has not altogether eluded Lena.)

Lena (Sharply).—What did you say, Erna?

Erna.—Nothing, darling, only that Mr. Burris is a man who has few equals. To be sure he had to don a uniform to prove it to