it is just as well for their riders, who would otherwise be frozen in their saddles. Thus Rasinski and his comrades find themselves dismounted, and Bianca’s sledge becomes useless. They pursue their way on foot, amidst scenes of inconceivable suffering and woe. Few of those around them show fortitude in this extremity of misery. In some instances despair and madness lead to violence and shameful excesses. Bianca, whose courage rises with the necessity for exertion, is walking supported by Ludwig’s arm, and Bernard follows at a short distance, carrying the infant, who, unconscious of the danger, smiles cheerily in his face, when the following incident occurs. “At this moment a hoarse firm voice was heard in rear of Bernard. “‘Stop, dog!’ it exclaimed. ‘Your cloak, or I shoot you dead!’ “Bernard stopped and looked round. A soldier, scantily attired in wretched rags, his features distorted, his beard long and tangled, his face black with earth and smoke, his eyes, frightfully inflamed, rolling wildly in their orbits, stood before him and covered him with his musket. “‘What would you, wretched man?’ cried Bernard, horror-struck and stepping backwards. The child screamed with terror, clasped its arms around him, and hid its little head in his breast. “‘Your warm cloak, or I shoot you down!’ shouted the frantic soldier. ‘No more comrades here; I’ve as good a right to save myself as you.’ “Bernard saw himself almost alone with the assassin; although thousands were within hail, the bullet would be quicker than their aid, supposing even that one amongst them had sufficient pity for another’s peril to turn aside for a moment, and thus lengthen his journey and sufferings by a few painful paces. There was nothing for it but to yield to the menace and give up his warm wrapper, although he well knew that with it he gave up his life. “‘You would murder a comrade to prolong your own life?’ said Bernard, in a tone of dignified determination; ‘be it so, but you will profit little by the deed. Your hour will overtake you the sooner.’ “‘Quick, death gripes me already!’ cried the madman, his musket still levelled and his bloodshot eyes wildly rolling. “Bernard stooped to put down the child, which impeded him in pulling off his coat; as he did so, he heard a loud cry, and turning, he beheld Bianca, who threw herself weeping at the feet of the furious soldier.