"

Charles Henry was in the act of drawing on the coat of the dead man,
when Fritz Kober suddenly seized his arm and held him back. "Stop," said
he, "you must do me a favor--this coat is too narrow, and it pinches
me fearfully; you are thinner than I am, and I think it will fit you
exactly; take it and give me yours." He jerked off the coat and handed
it to his friend.

"No, no, Fritz Kober," said Charles Henry, in a voice so soft and sweet,
that Fritz was confused and bewildered by it. "No, Fritz, I understand
you fully. You have the heart of an angel; you only pretend that this
coat is too narrow for you that you may induce me to take the one you
have already warmed."

It was well that Fritz had his back turned to the moon, otherwise his
friend would have seen that his face was crimson; he blushed as if
detected in some wicked act. However, he tore the uniform away from
Charles Henry rather roughly, and hastened to put it on.

"Folly," said he, "the coat squeezes me, that is all! Besides, it is not
wise to fool away our time in silly talking. Let us go onward."

"Directly over the battle-field?" said Charles Henry, shuddering.

"Directly over the battle-field," said Kober, "because that is the
nearest way."

"Come, then," said Charles, giving him his hand.

It was indeed a fearful path through which they must walk. They passed
by troops of corpses--by thousands of groaning, rattling, dying men--by
many severely wounded, who cried out to them piteously for mercy and
help! Often Charles Henry hesitated and stood still to offer consolation
to the unhappy wretches, but Fritz Kober drew him on. "We cannot help
them, and we have far to go!" Often the swarming Cossacks, dashing
around on their agile little ponies, called to them from afar off in
their barbarous speech, but when they drew near and saw the Austrian
uniforms, they passed them quietly, and were not surprised they had not
given the pass-word.

At last they passed the battle-field, and came on the open plain, at
the end of which they perceived the camp-fires of the Russians and
Austrians. The nearer they approached, the more lively was the scene.
Shouts, laughter, loud calls, and outcries--from time to time a word of
command. And in the midst of this mad confusion, here and there soldiers
were running, market-women offering them wares cheap, and exulting
soldiers assembling around the camp-fires. From time to time the regular
step of the patrouille was