"Oh, it is all over with us," he answered. "They have eaten my horse.
And how am I to make this sleepy general and his wife stir a step?"

"Take a brand, Philip, and threaten them."

"Threaten the Countess? . . ."

"Good-bye," cried the aide-de-camp; "I have only just time to get
across that unlucky river, and go I must, there is my mother in
France! . . . What a night! This herd of wretches would rather lie
here in the snow, and most of them would sooner be burned alive than
get up. . . . It is four o'clock, Philip! In two hours the Russians
will begin to move, and you will see the Beresina covered with corpses
a second time, I can tell you. You haven't a horse, and you cannot
carry the Countess, so come along with me," he went on, taking his
friend by the arm.

"My dear fellow, how am I to leave Stephanie?"

Major de Sucy grasped the Countess, set her on her feet, and shook her
roughly; he was in despair. He compelled her to wake, and she stared
at him with dull fixed eyes.

"Stephanie, we must go, or we shall die here!"

For all answer, the Countess tried to sink down again and sleep on the
earth. The aide-de-camp snatched a brand from the fire and shook it in
her face.