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"That was a nice snub for the little aide-de-camp," came a voice

from behind.

Prince Andrew saw that the officer was in that state of

senseless, tipsy rage when a man does not know what he is saying.

He saw that his championship of the doctor's wife in her queer

trap might expose him to what he dreaded more than anything in

the world-to ridicule; but his instinct urged him on. Before the

officer finished his sentence Prince Andrew, his face distorted

with fury, rode up to him and raised his riding whip.

"Kind...ly let-them-pass!"

The officer flourished his arm and hastily rode away.

"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there's

this disorder," he muttered. "Do as you like."

Prince Andrew without lifting his eyes rode hastily away from the

doctor's wife, who was calling him her deliverer, and recalling

with a sense of disgust the minutest details of this humiliating

scene he galloped on to the village where he was told who the

commander in chief was.