"I expected it," cried the imperturbable grenadier. "Ho! ho! your man
is dead."

"Poor Laurent!" said the major.

"Laurent? Was he in the 5th chasseurs?"

"Yes."

"Then he was my cousin. Oh, well, this dog's life isn't happy enough
to waste any joy in grieving for him."

The carriage could not be raised; the horses were taken out with
serious and, as it proved, irreparable loss of time. The shock of the
overturn was so violent that the young countess, roused from her
lethargy, threw off her coverings and rose.

"Philippe, where are we?" she cried in a gentle voice, looking about
her.

"Only five hundred feet from the bridge. We are now going to cross the
Beresina, Stephanie, and once across I will not torment you any more;
you shall sleep; we shall be in safety, and can reach Wilna easily.
-- God grant that she may never know what her life has cost!" he
thought.

"Philippe! you are wounded!"

"That is nothing."