Beyond the red circle of the fire all was blackness, and, except the roaring of the wind, all was silence. A few stars flickered dimly in the cold heavens above them, but they were often obscured by the flurries of snow. St. Arnaud sat still in front of the fire, for it was not yet necessary to walk up and down to keep alive. His face was pale and impassive, and he was still suffering from the shock of flight and defeat. It seemed to him as if a hundred years separated him from the year before, or even the month before. The hours dragged by toward midnight. Every moment it grew colder, but the fire still lasted. At last, at one o’clock, St. Arnaud waked Gavin, who rose instantly. St. Arnaud showed him a pocket thermometer, with the mercury down to zero.
“That’s nothing,” cried Gavin jauntily. “I will throw some of the iron of the gun-carriage on the fire, and if I see you freezing, I will wake you up, never fear.”
St. Arnaud lay down and, covered with Gavin’s blanket, soon fell asleep. Gavin watched him all the time, thinking:
“Some men in my place would think themselves unfortunate at this moment. I don’t. This is my first real stroke of fortune. I have an officer’s uniform—parbleu! what may I not expect in the way of good luck!”
Absorbed in a delicious dream of the future, the rest of the night seemed short to Gavin. A ghastly half light succeeded the darkness; and then all at once a pale rose colour appeared in the eastern sky, and a faint golden haze overspread the snow-covered earth. The distant mountains glowed in an opaline light—it was the dawn of the cloudless winter day.
Gavin, however, beyond the thrill which morning brings to men of his youth and type, noticed nothing, being occupied with the horses, and with the preparation of the last of his cheese and bacon in the tin pan. When it was ready he waked St. Arnaud, who was sleeping soundly.
“Come, my Captain,” he called out. “We are both alive. There is something to eat. The weather is fair, and the sun is rising. And faith! I feel as if I would like to right about face and go back to fighting those confounded Prussians again.”
St. Arnaud got up instantly. In fifteen minutes they had finished all they had to eat, had mounted, and were travelling along the faint track in the snow which indicated the highroad. As they turned their horses’ heads, St. Arnaud said to Gavin:
“Ride by me.” And Gavin, without the least impertinence, replied firmly:
“I meant to. No man in an officer’s uniform rides behind his captain.”