rade, and made him sip a little
of his wine.

"Now it is enough," he said, withdrawing the flask from his lips. "Since
you have quenched your thirst, comrade, would you not like to eat a
piece of bread and some meat? Ah, you smile; you are surprised because I
guess your wishes and know your sufferings. You need not wonder at it,
however, comrade, for I have undergone just the same torture as you.
Above all, you must eat something."

While speaking, he had produced from his knapsack a loaf of bread and a
piece of roast chicken, and cutting a few slices from both, placed them
tenderly in the mouth of the sufferer, looking on with smiling joy while
the other moved his jaws, slowly at first, but soon more rapidly and
eagerly.

"Now another draught of wine, comrade," he said, "and then, I may dare
to give you some more food. Hush! do not say a word--it is a sacred work
you are doing now, a work by which you are just about to save a human
life. You must not, therefore, interrupt it by any superfluous
protestations of gratitude. Moreover, your words are written in your
eyes, and you cannot tell me any thing better and more beautiful than
what I am reading therein. Drink! So! And here is a piece of bread and a
wing of the chicken. While you are eating, I will look around in the
yard and garden to find there some water to wash your wounds."

Without waiting for a reply, he hastily left the officer alone with the
piece of bread, the wing of the chicken, and the flask. When he
returned, about fifteen minutes later, with a jar filled with water, the
bread and meat had disappeared; but instead of the pale, immovable, and
cadaverous being, he found seated on the floor a young man with flashing
eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks, and a gentle smile on his lips.

"You have saved me," he said, extending his hand toward his returning
comrade. "I should have died of hunger and exhaustion, if you had not
relieved me so mercifully."

"Comrade," said the officer, smiling, "you have just repeated the same
words which I addressed two hours ago to another comrade whom I met on
the retreat; or, to speak more correctly, who found me lying in the
ditch. The lucky fellow had got a horse; he offered me a seat behind
him. But I saw that the animal was too weak to carry both of us; hence I
did not accept his offer, but I took the refreshments which he gave to
me, and with which he not only saved my life, but yours too. You are,
therefore, under