Chapter Forty Four.
The Cossacks having divided, and gone in pursuit of the French, I pointed out to Cross a hotel, and requested him to help me there. As we crossed the square, strewed with the dead and wounded, we passed close to General Moraud, who was breathing his last.
“See, Cross,” said I, “there is retribution. He intended that we should fall where he now lies.”
The general recognised us, gave a heavy groan, and, turning on his back, fell dead.
As soon as I gained the hotel, I was taken up into a room, and made as comfortable as I could be until my wound could be dressed.
“We’re well out of it this time, sir,” said Cross.
“Yes, indeed, Bob; this has indeed been a miraculous preservation, and we ought to thank Heaven for it.”
“Why, Captain Keene, I thought just now you did not care whether you lived or died.”
“No more I did at that time, Cross; but when we are so wonderfully preserved, we cannot think but that we are preserved for better things; and as Providence has interfered, it points out to us that it is our duty to live.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you say that, sir. There’s all the troops coming back. What queer-looking chaps they are, with their long lances and long beards!”