“Grenadier, turn over those sleepers, and take their shawls and linen, to eke out.”
“Tiens! that’s one dead,” said the grenadier, stripping the first man he came to. “Bless me! what a joke, they are all dead!”
“All?”
“Yes, all; seems as if horse-meat must be indigestible if eaten with snow.”
The words made Philippe tremble. The cold was increasing.
“My God! to lose the woman I have saved a dozen times!”
The major shook the countess.
“Stephanie! Stephanie!”
The young woman opened her eyes.
“Madame! we are saved.”