e to the Langenmarkt, and the roadway
widens before it narrows again to pass beneath the Grunes Thor. There is
rising ground where the road spreads like a fan, and here they could see
and be seen.

"Let us hope," said Sebastian, "that two of these gentlemen may perceive
you as they pass."

But he did not offer to accompany them.

By half-past eleven the streets were full. The citizens knew their
governor, it seemed. He would not keep them waiting. Although Rapp
lacked that power of appealing to the imagination which has survived
Napoleon's death with such astounding vitality that it moves men's minds
to-day as surely as it did a hundred years ago, he was shrewd enough
to make use of his master's methods when such would seem to serve his
purpose. He was not going to creep into Dantzig like a whipped dog into
his kennel.

He had procured a horse at Elbing. Between that town and the Mottlau he
had halted to form his army into something like order, to get together a
staff with which to surround himself.

But the Dantzigers did not cheer. They stood and watched him in a sullen
silence as he rode across the bridge now known as the "Milk-Can." His
bridle was twisted round his arm, for all his fingers were frostbitten.
His nose and his ears were in the same plight, and had been treated by
a Polish barber who, indeed, effected a cure. One eye was almost closed.
His face was astonishingly red. But he carried himself like a soldier,
and faced the world with the audacity that Napoleon taught to all his
disciples.

Behind him rode a few staff officers, but the majority were on foot.
Some effort had been made to revive the faded uniforms. One or two
heroic souls had cast aside the fur cloaks to which they owed their
life, but the majority were broken men without spirit, without
pride--appealing only to pity. They hugged themselves closely in
their ragged cloaks and stumbled as they walked. It was impossible
to distinguish between the officers and the men. The biggest and the
strongest were the best clad--the bullies were the best fed. All were
black and smoke-grimed--with eyes reddened and inflamed by the dazzling
snow through which they stumbled by day, as much as by the smoke into
which they crouched at night. Every garment was riddled by the holes
burnt by flying sparks--every face was smeared with blood that ran
from the horseflesh they had torn asunder with their teeth while it yet
smoked.

Some laughed and waved their