CHAPTER XXIX

　　When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latteragain thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French andwished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it. He was sovery polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierrefor saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and satdown with him in the parlor- the first room they entered. ToPierre's assurances that he was not a Frenchman, the captain,evidently not understanding how anyone could decline so flatteringan appellation, shrugged his shoulders and said that if Pierreabsolutely insisted on passing for a Russian let it be so, but for allthat he would be forever bound to Pierre by gratitude for saving hislife.

　　Had this man been endowed with the slightest capacity for perceivingthe feelings of others, and had he at all understood what Pierre'sfeelings were, the latter would probably have left him, but theman's animated obtuseness to everything other than himself disarmedPierre.

　　"A Frenchman or a Russian prince incognito," said the officer,looking at Pierre's fine though dirty linen and at the ring on hisfinger. "I owe my life to you and offer you my friendship. A Frenchmannever forgets either an insult or a service. I offer you myfriendship. That is all I can say."

　　There was so much good nature and nobility (in the French sense ofthe word) in the officer's voice, in the expression of his face and inhis gestures, that Pierre, unconsciously smiling in response to theFrenchman's smile, pressed the hand held out to him.

　　"Captain Ramballe, of the 13th Light Regiment, Chevalier of theLegion of Honor for the affair on the seventh of September," heintroduced himself, a self-satisfied irrepressible smile puckering hislips under his mustache. "Will you now be so good as to tell me withwhom I have the honor of conversing so pleasantly, instead of being inthe ambulance with that maniac's bullet in my body?"

　　Pierre replied that he could not tell him his name and, blushing,began to try to invent a name and to say something about his reasonfor concealing it, but the Frenchman hastily interrupted him.

　　"Oh, please!" said he. "I understand your reasons. You are anofficer... a superior officer perhaps. You have borne arms against us.That's not my business. I owe you my life. That is enough for me. I amquite at your service. You belong to the gentry?" he concluded witha shade of inquiry in his tone. Pierre bent his head. "Yourbaptismal name, if you please. That is all I ask. Monsieur Pierre, yousay.... That's all I want to know."