"The Russians! the Russians are coming!" cried the defenders to the
workers; and the work went on, the raft increased in length and
breadth and depth. Generals, soldiers, colonel, all put their
shoulders to the wheel; it was a true image of the building of Noah's
ark. The young countess, seated beside her husband, watched the
progress of the work with regret that she could not help it; and yet
she did assist in making knots to secure the cordage.

At last the raft was finished. Forty men launched it on the river, a
dozen others holding the cords which moored it to the shore. But no
sooner had the builders seen their handiwork afloat, than they sprang
from the bank with odious selfishness. The major, fearing the fury of
this first rush, held back the countess and the general, but too late
he saw the whole raft covered, men pressing together like crowds at a
theatre.

"Savages!" he cried, "it was I who gave you the idea of that raft. I
have saved you, and you deny me a place."

A confused murmur answered him. The men at the edge of the raft, armed
with long sticks, pressed with violence against the shore to send off
the frail construction with sufficient impetus to force its way
through corpses and ice-floes to the other shore.

"Thunder of heaven! I'll sweep you into the water if you don't take
the major and his two companions," cried the stalwart grenadier, who
swung his sabre, stopped the departure, and forced the men to stand
closer in spite of furious outcries.