process was magically swift. Philip went over to the woman who had
given the cry of terror when she recognized his danger, and sat down
by her side. She sat motionless upon a cushion taken from the
carriage, warming herself at the blaze; she said no word, and gazed at
him without a smile. He saw beside her the soldier whom he had left
mounting guard over the carriage; the poor fellow had been wounded; he
had been overpowered by numbers, and forced to surrender to the
stragglers who had set upon him, and, like a dog who defends his
master's dinner till the last moment, he had taken his share of the
spoil, and had made a sort of cloak for himself out of a sheet. At
that particular moment he was busy toasting a piece of horseflesh, and
in his face the major saw a gleeful anticipation of the coming feast.

The Comte de Vandieres, who seemed to have grown quite childish in the
last few days, sat on a cushion close to his wife, and stared into the
fire. He was only just beginning to shake off his torpor under the
influence of the warmth. He had been no more affected by Philip's
arrival and danger than by the fight and subsequent pillaging of his
traveling carriage.

At first Sucy caught the young Countess' hand in his, trying to
express his affection for her, and the pain that it gave him to see
her reduced like this to the last extremity of misery; but he said
nothing as he sat by her side on the thawing heap of snow, he gave
himself up to the pleasure of the sensation of warmth, forgetful of
danger, forgetful of all things else in the world. In spite of himself
his face expanded with an almost fatuous expression of satisfaction,
and he waited impatiently till the scrap of horseflesh that had fallen
to his soldier's share should be cooked. The smell of charred flesh
stimulated his hunger. Hunger clamored within and silenced his heart,