It was during this crisis in his affairs that, while concealed in a clump of trees, he had seen me conducted there by the two hirelings of Bourgneuf, and but for him, at their hands I had assuredly perished by a miserable and unknown death.
We had both narrowly escaped captivity and danger; but I knew that three parties were yet out in pursuit of me, and that the ford was still guarded; so we were still in a horrible dilemma.
Refreshment and a guide were necessary; but where were we to find either? Loading the captured muskets we trod hopefully on, till we reached a cottage or small farmhouse, which to all appearance was deserted, as no smoke ascended from the chimneys, no dog barked or cock crew in the yard, the gate of which lay open or flat upon the ground.
A skirmish between the French Dragoons and the Prussian Black Hussars had evidently taken place close by this farm; for near it several horses, still accoutred were lying dead among the deep snow, and in some instances we saw spurred boots and ghastly white hands sticking up through it.
When we opened the door and entered the lower apartment the reason of the silence within it was at once accounted for, and we saw that which at another time, and to folks less case-hardened than Hob and I, would have been a very appalling spectacle.
The house had been pillaged and its usual occupants had fled; but on the table of the principal room lay a dead body muffled in a scarlet cloak, all save the feet (from which the boots had been stolen), and stiffly white and cold they protruded beyond the scarlet covering.
In a corner lay a pile of regimental coats, caps, boots, shirts, stockings, waist and shoulder-belts, all spotted, and in some instances soaked with now frozen blood; and there, too, were broken swords, bent bayonets, and wooden canteens piled up by those vile strippers of the dead, who would no doubt return ere long for their plunder, so this was no place for us to linger in.
A Prussian Hussar, in the black uniform laced with white of the King's favourite regiment, lay in another corner almost without a wound, yet quite dead, and in a pool of his own blood. A sword-point had grazed his left temple, severing the temporal artery, and he had bled to death, thus his blanched aspect was ghastly in the extreme.
"Horrible!" said I, shuddering.
"Maist deevilish!" added my companion, "but I've kenned o' waur."