‘Speak to him if he’ll answer you, and speak to him gently,’ said little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper to all present that Dirkovitch should sip brandy as he talked in purring, spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and with such evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to understand no one said a word. All breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long gaps of the conversation. The next time that they have no engagements on hand the White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg in a body to learn Russian. ‘He does not know how many years ago,’ said Dirkovitch, facing the mess, ‘but he says it was very long ago in a war. I think that there was an accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished regiment in the war.’ ‘The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!’ said little Mildred, and the adjutant dashed off bare-headed to the orderly-room, where the muster-rolls of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to hear Dirkovitch conclude, ‘Therefore, my dear friends, I am most sorry to say there was an accident which would have been reparable if he had apologised to that our colonel, which he had insulted.’ Then followed another growl which the colonel tried to beat down. The mess was in no mood just then to weigh insults to Russian colonels. ‘He does not remember, but I think that there was an accident, and so he was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another place--how do you say?--the country. SO, he says, he came here. He does not know how he came. Eh? He was at Chepany’--the man caught the word, nodded, and shivered--‘at Zhigansk and Irkutsk. 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 that our colonel. Ah!’ Instead of echoing Dirkovitch’s sigh of regret, it is sad to record that the White Hussars livelily exhibited un-Christian 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 at these. ‘Steady! Fifty-six--fifty-five--fifty-four,’ said Holmer. ‘Here we are. “Lieutenant Austin Limmason. MISSING.” That was before Sebastopol. What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their colonels, and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped out.’ ‘But he never apologised. Said he’d see him damned first,’ chorused the mess. ‘Poor chap! I suppose he never had the chance afterwards. 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?’