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 Poor Zoiloff had fainted, and lay helpless in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder.

The men lifted him gently off the horse, the litter was brought out, and I helped to place him in it.

"I'm afraid I needn't ask for his papers," said the officer, as the men moved off.

I showed him my English passport, as clearing the way for me, and, with a mere glance at it, he returned it.

"I hope you will have better news than I fear of your friend," he said warmly.

I could not answer him; I was too broken with this new trouble. I followed the mournful little procession, and I am not ashamed to say that as I watched it and gazed at the white face in the litter my eyes were more than once half blinded by tears.