rying in a loud voice--

"Cover me with earth! Leave your general here. You are no longer my
children, and I am no longer your father; nothing remains to me but
death."

At these strange words, which were uttered in so powerful a voice
that they were heard by the whole army, the Russian grenadiers threw
themselves weeping into the grave, and, raising their general, asked
pardon of him, entreating him to lead them again against the enemy.

"At last," cried Souvarow, "I recognise my children again. To the
enemy!"

Not cries but yells of joy greeted his words. Souvarav dressed himself
again, and whilst he was dressing the leaders of the mutiny crept in
the dust to kiss his feet. Then, when his epaulets were replaced on
his shoulders, and when his decorations again shone on his breast, he
remounted his horse, followed by the army, the soldiers swearing with
one voice that they would all die rather than abandon their father.

The same day Souvarow attacked Aerolo; but his luck had turned: the
conqueror of Cassano, Trebia, and Novi had left his good-fortune behind
in the plains of Italy. For twelve hours six hundred French opposed
three thousand Russian grenadiers beneath the walls of the town, and so
successfully that night fell without Souvarow being able to defeat them.
Next day he marched the whole of his troops against this handful of
brave men, but the sky clouded over and the wind blew a bitter rain into
the faces of the Russians; the French profited by this circumstance to
beat a retreat, evacuating the valley of Ursern, crossing the Reuss, and
taking up their position on the heights of the Furka and Grimsel.
One portion of the Russian army's design had been achieved, they were
masters of the St. Gothard. It is true that as soon as they marched
farther on, the French would retake it and cut off their retreat; but
what did this matter to Souvarow? Did he not always march forward?

He marched on, then, without worrying about that which was behind him,
reached Andermatt, cleared Trou d'Ury, and found Lecourbe guarding
the defile of the Devil's Bridge with fifteen hundred men. There the
struggle began again; for three days fifteen hundred Frenchmen kept
thirty thousand Russians at bay. Souvarow raged like a lion trapped in
a snare, for he could not understand this change of fortune. At last,
on the fourth day, he heard that General Korsakoff, who had preceded him
and who was to rejoin him later, had been beaten by M