I was settling myself as well as I could on the straw near a large fire, when all at once I felt pains in my legs and thighs, so violent that during a part of the night I did nothing but groan. I heard them saying, 'He will not be able to leave to-morrow.' I thought so too, and decided, as many had already done, to make my will. I called my friend Grangier, and told him that I was certain all was over with me. I begged him to undertake the charge of some small articles, to be given to my family if he had the good fortune to see France again. These articles were a watch, a cross in gold and silver, a little vase in Chinese porcelain. I possess the two last still. I also wished to dispose of all the money that I had, reserving some gold pieces that I meant to hide in the sheepskin wrapped about my foot, hoping that the Russians, when they took me, would not begin searching among my rags.

Grangier, who had listened without interrupting me, now asked if I were in a fever or dreaming. I said that I was in a fever, but I was quite clear-headed. He began to lecture me, reminding me of my courage in worse situations than this.

'Yes,' I said, 'but then I was stronger.'

He assured me that I had said as much at the passage of the Bérézina when I had been quite as ill, and since then I had come eighty leagues. As for the fifteen that remained before reaching Kowno, they would be done in a couple of days; with the help of my friends I should manage them very well. To-morrow they would only walk four leagues.

'So,' he said, 'try to rest, and wrap up those things again. I will only take your kettle, and carry it for you.'

Another said, 'I will take this other case (the surgeon's case), which must worry you.'

Meanwhile, Rossi, who was lying near, remarked: 'My friend, you will not be here alone to-morrow morning; I shall share your fate, for I am quite as bad as you are. The journey to-day has done for me, and I shall not be able to go any further. But when the rear-guard passes by, we may be able to march with it, for we shall have had some extra hours' rest. If we have not enough strength to follow it, we will go to the right. To the first village or the first house that we find, and put ourselves under the protection of the Baron or master; perhaps he will have pity on us until we are better, and we can reach Prussia or Poland. Very likely the Russians will not come further than Kowno.'

I told him that I would do as he wished. M. Césarisse, whom Grangier had just told of my intention, came up to comfort me. He said that the pain I suffered only came from the fatigue of yesterday. He made me lie before the fire, and, as there was plenty of wood, they piled on enough to roast me. This fire did me so much good that the pain gradually left me, and I slept for some hours. Poor Rossi did so too.

In 1830 I was appointed an officer of the staff at Brest. On the day of my arrival, sitting at table with my wife and children at the Hôtel de Provence, a man sat opposite to me, very well dressed, who looked at me a great deal. Every other moment he stopped eating, and, his head resting on his hand, he seemed to think deeply, or to be recalling certain memories. Afterwards he spoke to the landlord of the hotel. My wife, who was beside me, pointed it out to me.