hing throng, an endless tramping,
mingled with the vague clink of tin bowls or swords. The men, bent,
round-shouldered, dirty, in many cases even in rags, dragged themselves
along, hurried through the snow, with a long, broken-backed stride.

"The skin of their hands froze to the butt ends of their muskets, for it
was freezing hard that night. I frequently saw a little soldier take off
his shoes in order to walk barefoot, as his shoes hurt his weary feet;
and at every step he left a track of blood. Then, after some time, he
would sit down in a field for a few minutes' rest, and he never got up
again. Every man who sat down was a dead man.

"Should we have left behind us those poor, exhausted soldiers, who
fondly counted on being able to start afresh as soon as they had
somewhat refreshed their stiffened legs? But scarcely had they ceased
to move, and to make their almost frozen blood circulate in their veins,
than an unconquerable torpor congealed them, nailed them to the ground,
closed their eyes, and paralyzed in one second this overworked human
mechanism. And they gradually sank down, their foreheads on their knees,
without, however, falling over, for their loins and their limbs became
as hard and immovable as wood, impossible to bend or to stand upright.

"And the rest of us, more robust, kept straggling on, chilled to the
marrow, advancing by a kind of inertia through the night, through the
snow, through that cold and deadly country, crushed by pain, by
defeat, by despair, above all overcome by the abominable sensation of
abandonment, of the end, of death, of nothingness.

"I saw two gendarmes holding by the arm a curious-looking little man,
old, beardless, of truly surprising aspect.

"They were looking for an officer, believing that they had caught a spy.
The word 'spy' at once spread through the midst of the stragglers, and
they gathered in a group round the prisoner. A voice exclaimed: 'He
must be shot!' And all these soldiers who were falling from utter
prostration, only holding themselves on their feet by leaning on their
guns, felt all of a sudden that thrill of furious and bestial anger
which urges on a mob to massacre.

"I wanted to speak. I was at that time in command of a battalion; but
they no longer recognized the authority of their commanding officers;
they would even have shot me.

"One of the gendarmes said: 'He has been following us for the three
last days. He has been asking information fro