Night had fallen and silence brooded over the Burgundian camp, upon which the snow was falling in heavy flakes. In the forest near the abbey a man stood leaning against a tree striving to penetrate the thick snow clouds that filled the air. “Why does not Giacomo come?” he muttered to himself in Italian. “It is too cold in this cursed country to wait long.”

“You shall not have to,” replied a voice near him, “for I am here already and have brought with me as much as I could carry away from my canteen. It will soon be up with them over yonder,” he added, motioning toward the camp, “and methinks we shall do well to join the Swiss. Then at least there will be some hope of getting back to our own beautiful land.”

The first speaker wore the uniform of a cuirassier, and was no other than the former servant in the wine shop at Treves. “I wonder,” he said musingly, “how long our comrades will stand by the Duke. It is long since he gave us any pay. Our fare is wretched, and the cold unbearable to us all.”

Giacomo produced some food from his bundle, and the two men walked on through the forest, eating as they went. Suddenly they paused. Was that the trampling of horses’ hoofs they heard? The cuirassier laid his ear to the ground. Yes, there was no doubt a large body of horsemen was approaching.

“Can they be following us?” asked Giacomo anxiously.

“Surely not,” replied his companion, “but something must be afoot. It may be a night attack on the Swiss. In any case we shall do well to conceal ourselves behind these juniper bushes.”

Nearer and nearer came the horsemen, the hard-frozen ground reëchoing to the heavy tread of armored steeds. Deeper into the thicket shrank the two deserters, as the clang of arms resounded so close to them they almost feared to be trampled upon. But the troop passed on.

“Did you recognize any one?” asked Giacomo.

“No,” replied the other, “but it seemed to me I heard the voice of our commander, Campo Basso.”

“So I thought too,” said the sutler. “Can it be that they are deserting? It is said the Count has been mortally offended by the Duke of Burgundy, and it is possible they are going over to the Swiss.”