'Good-bye, Sara,'I said to her. 'God bless you, good-bye. We'll see each other again some other time.' Girshel was silent and bowed humbly. Sara bent down, took my hand and pressed it to her lips; I turned away.... For five or six days, my friends, I kept thinking of my Jewess. Girshel did not make his appearance, and no one had seen him in the camp. I slept rather badly at nights; I was continually haunted by wet, black eyes, and long eyelashes; my lips could not forget the touch of her cheek, smooth and fresh as a downy plum. I was sent out with a foraging party to a village some distance away. While my soldiers were ransacking the houses, I remained in the street, and did not dismount from my horse. Suddenly some one caught hold of my foot.... 'Mercy on us, Sara!' She was pale and excited. 'Your honour... help us, save us, your soldiers are insulting us.... Your honour....' She recognised me and flushed red. 'Why, do you live here?' 'Yes.' 'Where?' Sara pointed to a little, old house. I set spurs to my horse and galloped up. In the yard of the little house an ugly and tattered Jewess was trying to tear out of the hands of my long sergeant, Siliavka, three hens and a duck. He was holding his booty above his head, laughing; the hens clucked and the duck quacked.... Two other cuirassiers were loading their horses with hay, straw, and sacks of flour. Inside the house I heard shouts and oaths in Little-Russian.... I called to my men and told them to leave the Jews alone, not to take anything from them. The soldiers obeyed, the sergeant got on his grey mare, Proserpina, or, as he called her, 'Prozherpila,' and rode after me into the street. 'Well,' I said to Sara, 'are you pleased with me?' She looked at me with a smile. 'What has become of you all this time?' She dropped her eyes. 'I will come to you to-morrow.' 'In the evening?' 'No, sir, in the morning.' 'Mind you do, don't deceive me.' 'No... no, I won't.' I looked greedily at her. By daylight she seemed to me handsomer than ever. I remember I was particularly struck by the even, amber tint of her face and the bluish lights in her black hair.... I bent down from my horse and warmly pressed her little hand. 'Good-bye, Sara... mind you come.' 'Yes.' She went home; I told the sergeant to follow me with the party, and galloped off.