hen you were not killed."

This was all my welcome. Misery had made them so selfish that they
thought only of themselves. But Zebede was always good-hearted; he
made me sit near him, throwing a glance at the others that commanded
respect, and offered me his spoon, which he had fastened to the
button-hole of his coat. I thanked him, and produced from my knapsack
a dozen sausages, a good loaf of bread, and a flask of brandy, which I
had the foresight to purchase at Risa. I handed a couple of the
sausages to Zebede, who took them with tears in his eyes. I was also
going to offer some to the others; but he put his hand on my arm,
saying:

"What is good to eat is good to keep."

We retired from the circle and ate, drinking at the same time; the rest
of the soldiers said nothing, but looked wistfully at us. Klipfel,
smelling the sausages, turned and said:

"Holloa! Joseph! Come and eat with us. Comrades are always comrades,
you know."

"That is all very well," said Zebede; "but I find meat and drink the
best comrades."

He shut up my knapsack himself, saying:

"Keep that, Joseph. I have not been so well regaled for more than a
month. You shall not lose by it."

A half-hour after, the recall was beaten; the skirmishers came in, and
Sergeant Pinto, who was among the number, recognized me, and said:

"Well; so you have escaped! But you came back in an evil moment!
Things go wrong--wrong!"

The colonel and commandants mounted, and we began moving. The Cossacks
withdrew. We marched with arms at will; Zebede was at my side and
related all that passed since Lutzen; the great victories of Bautzen
and Wurtschen; the forced marches to overtake the retreating enemy; the
march on Berlin; then the armistice, during which we were encamped in
the little towns; then the arrival of the veterans of Spain--men
accustomed to pillaging and living on the peasantry.

Unfortunately, at the close of the armistice all were against us. The
country people looked on us with horror; they cut the bridges down, and
kept the Russians and Prussians informed of all our movements, and
whenever any misfortune happened us, instead of helping us, they tried
to force us deeper in the mire. The great rains came to finish us, and
the day of the battle of Dresden it fell so heavily that the Emperor's
hat hung down upon his shoulders. But when victorious, we only laughed
at these things; we felt warm just the same, and we could change our