arving, utterly forgotten in a country village![*] The
brave officer had scarcely gone a hundred paces towards Studzianka, when
General Eble roused some of his patient pontooners, and began his work
of mercy by setting fire to the camp on the side nearest the bridge, so
compelling the sleepers to rise and cross the Beresina. Meanwhile the
young aide-de-camp, not without difficulty, reached the one wooden house
yet left standing in Studzianka.

[*] This story can be found in _The Country Parson_.--eBook
preparers.

"So the box is pretty full, is it, messmate?" he said to a man whom he
found outside.

"You will be a knowing fellow if you manage to get inside," the officer
returned, without turning round or stopping his occupation of hacking at
the woodwork of the house with his sabre.

"Philip, is that you?" cried the aide-de-camp, recognizing the voice of
one of his friends.

"Yes. Aha! is it you, old fellow?" returned M. de Sucy, looking round at
the aide-de-camp, who like himself was not more than twenty-three years
old. "I fancied you were on the other side of this confounded river.
Do you come to bring us sweetmeats for dessert? You will get a warm
welcome," he added, as he tore away a strip of bark from the wood and
gave it to his horse by way of fodder.

"I am looking for your commandant. General Eble has sent me to tell him
to file off to Zembin. You have only just time to cut your way through
that mass of dead men; as soon as you get through, I am going to set
fire to the place to make them move--"

"You almost make me feel warm! Your news has put me in a fever; I have
two friends to bring through. Ah! but for those marmots, I should have
been dead before now, old fellow. On their account I am taking care
of my horse instead of eating him. But have you a crust about you, for
pity's sake? It is thirty hours since I have stowed any victuals. I have
been fighting like a madman to keep up a little warmth in my body and
what courage I have left."

"Poor Philip! I have nothing--not a scrap!--But is your General in
there?"

"Don't attempt to go in. The barn is full of our wounded. Go up a bit
higher, and you will see a sort of pig-sty to the right--that is where
the General is. Good-bye, my dear fellow. If ever we meet again in a
quadrille in a ballroom in Paris--"

He did not finish the sentence, for the treachery of the northeast wind
that whistled about them froze Major Philip's lips, and the a