or the desolate, unprotected
Catharine. This humane French-woman took all possible care of
her--indeed, treated her as her own child, and by degrees the young
Muscovite, thus rescued from an untimely death, grew to love her
protectress with all the strength of her affectionate nature.

Meantime the French army had commenced its retreat, and the sutler's
wife had to leave Moscow.

Were M. Somoff and his wife alive, or had they perished, like numbers of
their fellow-countrymen, by famine or by fire, or amid the numerous
ills of a captured city? This was a problem not to be solved for many
long years. Nothing could be heard of them, so Catharine left her native
place with her kind friend and protectress, the sutler's wife.

The snow was very deep, and every puff of wind increased the
inconvenience of travelling; in some parts the snow-drifts were so bad
that the poor horses sank into them till nothing but their heads was to
be seen. The days were short, and the fugitives made but little
progress, although they were often obliged to march during the night. It
was owing to this that so many unhappy creatures wandered from their
regiments. The weather was unusually cold. Even those who were fortunate
enough to have on a complete dress of coarse cloth lined with
sheep-skin, the wool left on and worn next the body, and over all a
large cloth _shubb_ lined with wolf-skin, the fur inside, and a warm
lamb-skin cap, their feet encased in boots lined with fur, found their
sufferings very great. What must it have been for those unfortunates who
had but tattered pelisses and sheep-skins half burnt?--how fared they?
They were perishing from exposure, hunger, and cold. Wretched men were
seen fighting over a morsel of dry bread, or bitterly disputing with
each other for a little straw, or a piece of horse-flesh, which they
were attempting to divide.

It is difficult to imagine what the tenderly-nurtured Catharine Somoff
had to undergo in this perilous journey. The hills and forests around
presented only some white, indistinct masses, scarcely visible through
the thick fog. At a short distance before them lay the fatal river the
Beresina, the scene of untold horrors, which, now half-frozen, forced
its way through the ice that impeded its progress. The two bridges were
so completely choked up by the crowds of people, horsemen,
foot-soldiers, and fugitives, that they broke down. Then began a
frightful scene, for the bodies of dead and d