apologies for his inability to do more for me at present; and, significantly referring to a Prussian captain then at supper in the lower story, he quietly pressed into my hand a shining silver thaler, which I as quietly returned with thanks, for the simple reason that I was even then more able to give than he. "God bless you, my gracious gentleman!" were his last words as I pressed his honest fist and assured him that if ever in my power his kindness should be remembered. Night had closed around me when I reached the sombre street with my magnanimous protector. After exchanging names, birthplace and the residence of our respective parents in our memorandum-books, I thanked him for all with a fulness of heart to which the moisture of his own thoughtful blue eyes most eloquently responded, and as he rapidly walked away my reflections upon the humanity of war were not such as would have recommended my promotion to the great captain in whose thankless service I am daily exposing my life. [Illustration: BASHKIR.] Here, then, I was left absolutely friendless in a hostile town in which my life was at the mercy of almost every inhabitant. And my poor brothers, what had become of them? How could I find out? My rescuer had informed me that the prisoners had already been transported into the country, and that the wounded were being cared for at the town-hall. In this dilemma my choice was not difficult. Deliberately walking into a tavern where the Russian staff were engaged in brewing punch, I declared myself a prisoner, hungry, and anxious to join my comrades, whose fate I wished to share. I did not conceal the fact that I hoped to find two brothers among them. To my agreeable surprise, I found these officers kindly-disposed, well-educated men, speaking either French or German fluently. Supper was instantly ordered for me, but, though a fast of fifteen hours was gnawing at my stomach, I could not prevail upon myself to taste anything before having seen our wounded, which I asked and obtained leave to do immediately. An orderly was directed to conduct me to the town-hall across the square. Here I was distressed to find over sixty of our men and officers of all arms more or less severely hurt, but none fatally, the unfortunates of that category, as rumor goes, having been _finished by the citizens_ before the military took charge of them. I anxiously looked into every familiar face, but my brothers were not there. No one could tell me the names of our dead. Frank was seen alive after I fell, just before the close of the fight, but of Louis nothing whatever was known. Still, I breathed more freely. A Prussian surgeon in attendance with our own having called my attention to the contusion over my left ear, which had now swollen to the size of a small egg, I had it bathed and dressed.