"James Denzil Carron--cornet, 8th Hussars!" And at that the man at the window turned suddenly and looked at him, and came and stood by the table. "You were, then, in the mad charge at Balaclava, perhaps?" "I was." "It was a foolish business." "It was." "Ah--you agree? How was it?" "Some mistake. But no one quite knows." "What are your total forces up there now?" At which Jim's lip curled in a smile. "You can hardly expect me to tell you that," he said quietly. The tall young man who had been standing by the window said a word or two to the other, who seemed surprised, and turning to Jim, said: "Very well, Monsieur Carron. I accept your parole, and Lieutenant Greski will be personally answerable for you." The lieutenant bowed, and plucked Jim backward by the sleeve, and Jim bowed, and gave the white dog's ear a final friendly pull, and they went out. "Who is he?" he asked, as soon as they were in the corridor. "Menchikoff, the one at the table. The other is the Grand Duke Michael. How does he know you?" And he looked at Jim with new curiosity. "Who--Menchikoff? "No--the Grand Duke." "Know me?" jerked Jim. "Some mistake. I never set eyes on him before." "He told Menchikoff to do what you wanted, and said he knew you, or something about you, or something of the kind. He dropped his voice so that I couldn't catch it all." "That's odd. I certainly know nothing of him." "He thinks he knows you, anyway, and so much the better for you. You shall come with me and stop at my house. It is not far." "You are very good. I shall have a better opinion of Russians in future." "Russians! I am no Russian. I am a Pole. I hate the Russians, and would love the English if I might." "I see. But why do you fight for them, then?" "Because I didn't my kin in Poland would have to pay for it." "That's jolly hard, to have to risk your life, and maybe give it, for people you hate." "There are many more like me. But what can we do? If we go against them they visit it on the innocent ones at home. If I could destroy the whole of Russia, Tsar and Grand Dukes and all, at one blow, I would strike it so"--and he dashed his fist into the palm of his other hand--"and then I would die with a glad heart. . . . But one does not talk of these things, you understand, except among one's friends." He stopped at a house which stood about midway down the slope overlooking the harbour, and led Jim into a room on the ground floor. From the window he could see Fort Constantine, shining white in the sun on the other side of the water, and the bristling line of the masts of the sunken ships, and the harbour itself dotted all over with plying boats. "One moment," said Greski, and left him there, but came back in an instant with a very beautiful white-haired old lady, whom he must have met in the passage. Her dark eyes were shining like stars at the joy of seeing her boy again. "My mother," said Greski, and explained matters to her in a torrent of Polish.