"I see there's a telegraph-wire. I hope the General hasn't managed to send a message," I returned uneasily.
"I should think not, judging by the ease with which those men below there were satisfied. But I mean to get through. Once past the station-house, and we haven't more than two or three hundred yards to gallop before we're in Servia. But I confess I never thought of the telegraph," and Zoiloff shook his head.
"Well, we'll try the papers first and the pistols afterwards, in case of need. And they won't find it easy to stop us."
But as we drew closer I saw what Zoiloff meant about the ease with which a handful of resolute men could hold such a spot.
"They've turned out to receive us," he said, as we saw an officer posting men to block the road. "He won't attempt to stop me, I expect, and while you're showing him your permit I'll edge past and try to get the men out of their order so as to leave a gap for you to dash through. Then I'll follow you, and they may hesitate about firing on me."
"Very well; but we can't make much of a plan. Probably I may find it best to appear to yield at first and then wait for the moment to make the rush;" and with that we rode on slowly, watching the men ahead of us closely, but laughing and chatting together as though the last thought in our heads was of any chance of being stopped. And we were both laughing heartily as at some joke when the officer in command met Zoiloff with a salute and turned to address me.
"Your permit, sir, if you please," he said courteously, but as I thought with a glance of suspicion.
"Certainly," I replied, and I took it out and handed
