We had not been resting an hour, when we heard a shout, 'Who goes there?' Directly afterwards a man came in and fell down full length. Some of the men rose to help him. He was a gunner in the Imperial Guard, who had been found at the bivouac I had missed. He had more than twenty wounds on his body, lance-thrusts and sword-cuts. They asked for linen to bandage him with. I hastened to give one of my best shirts. The sergeant, one of the two brothers, made him swallow some drops of gin; the old Chasseur gave some lint that he drew out of the depths of his bearskin. The wounded man was made more comfortable, and settled as well as could be. Happily, his wounds were mainly on the back and head; a few on the right arm, but his legs were sound.
I went up to ask him how he was. Almost before looking at me, he exclaimed: 'It is you, sergeant! You were wise not to stay at the house by the wood where you had made up your mind to pass the night, for a quarter of an hour after your departure more than 400 Cossacks came up.[68] We took up arms to defend ourselves, being then about 400 men. Seeing that we were ready to give them a reception, they halted; a detachment was formed, with an officer at their head, who advanced, telling us in good French to surrender.
'But a Chasseur of the Guard, named Michaut—the old cantinière's friend—left the ranks, and advancing so as to be heard by the Russian officer: "Tell me, you lapin, how long have Frenchmen surrendered with arms in their hands? Come on, we are waiting for you!" The officer instantly retired. They prepared to charge; we waited for them, and when they were about five-and-twenty yards off half our men fired. Some of them fell. Then, thinking that we all had discharged our weapons, and that we should not be able to reload, they advanced again, shouting and hurrahing. But they were met by another volley, that put the greater number of their men hors de combat. At this they took to flight, and we thought we were rid of them; but five minutes later they returned in greater numbers, and just at the moment when we were retreating to the wood, not having had again time to reload, we were overcome by the blows of lance and sword. Almost all were killed or wounded.
'I remained on the ground, wounded, and pretending to be dead; and, finding myself on the edge of a ditch bordering the road, I rolled into it. The peasants came up, and set to work to despoil the dead and wounded, accompanied by some Cossacks whose horses had been killed. I was lucky enough to escape notice, and when they had withdrawn, raising myself with difficulty, I gained the wood and crossed it. And, finally, my friends, I am so lucky as to have met you. But what is to become of me?'
'We will lead you,' replied the soldiers of the garrison. 'And I,' said the sergeant brother, 'will lend you my horse.'
In spite of the sleep which overwhelmed me, I began to think of setting off, for, not being strong, I took a great deal of time to go a very little way. A young soldier offered to accompany me, if I wanted to set out at once; I accepted his offer, especially as this young man, who had suffered nothing, was strong and would be able to help me. And so we took our departure.
We entered a wood, through which the road lay. Here the soldier, who was unarmed, wished to carry my gun; I gave it up to him, as, in my feeble condition, he was better able to make use of it than I. After walking I do not know how long, supported by my young companion's arm (for I often dozed while marching), we reached the extremity of the wood; it might have been about four o'clock in the morning, December 16th.
We walked on, haphazard, for about another half-hour; very luckily, the moon rose. But with it came a high wind and so fine a snow that it cut our faces and prevented our seeing before us.
I suffered greatly from the longing to sleep, and without the help of the little soldier, who held me all the time by the arm, I should certainly have fallen down sleeping. My companion pointed out to me a large group of buildings some way in front. I saw it was a posting-station, and concluded from that that we had gone about three leagues. In a quarter of an hour's time we had reached the doors. Entering, I threw myself down near a fire. There were several left by the soldiers, almost all of the Imperial Guard, who had marched on to Wilbalen. Some gunners, also of the Guard, were still there, but getting ready to leave.
I had slept peacefully for about ten minutes, when I felt myself shaken by the arm. I tried to resist, but someone raised me by my shoulders; I awoke at last and heard a shout coming from an old gunner: 'The Cossacks! Get up, my boy! Courage a little longer!'