It was ten o'clock before breakfast was finished, and I rose to go, expressing my thanks for the kind entertainment I had received as best I could; and I had the pleasure of seeing that I was understood. My host and his wife (I assume this was their relationship) accompanied me to the stable-yard, where I found the horses had been saddled by two of their own men; and the trooper was already astride his mount. We rode away with many expressions of thanks on my part and many flourishes of the hand from us all. I looked back for the last time when we were half a verst along the road. I could see the lady still standing outside the gate, and just detect the flutter of her white handkerchief. It was very satisfactory to feel we were freely forgiven. The country was now pretty open to view, and I have seldom seen a wilder landscape, or one which had a more depressing effect on the spirits. Dark pines were scattered about, and we passed an occasional wood; otherwise the country might be described as a lake of mud, with here and there a plot covered with half-melted snow, which increased the general dirty and unwholesome appearance of the whole district. We could see for about a dozen versts in most directions, and yet only four or five small farmhouses, and as many isolated cottages, were in sight. A solitary worker in the fields was the only man we saw for an hour. A great black patch in the distance proved to be, when we came up to it, a burnt village. The destruction was complete. Not a wall was left, nor a heap of bricks that one could not easily step over. What had become of the inhabitants of this collection of wrecked homes? Not a soul was there when we went by. Then for a long way we passed bones, skulls and parts of skeletons still intact; not lying in lines and heaps as I had seen them doing in places where great battles had been fought, but scattered along the side of the road, singly, or two or three together. I thought they might be the remains of the village people, slain as they were running away; but on dismounting to examine them more closely I satisfied myself that some of them, at least, had once been German soldiers, and others Russians. A few had rusty rifles lying beneath them, and leather cartridge pouches were still strapped round the bones. In many cases the flesh had not disappeared, but was shrunken. The bodies must have been rotting when the snow fell and covered them, which prevented further decay. Crows and ravens were flitting about the fields, as well as a few dogs and pigs: the invariable haunters of the neglected battlefields. These horrible relics of "the glories of war" extended for a linear distance of ten versts along the sides of the roads--how far across the fields I cannot say. They numbered many hundreds, if not thousands: and probably a great many had been buried or removed. [Illustration: RUSSIAN TRENCH NEAR BREST-LITOVSK. AS THE RUSSIANS LEFT IT]