[Illustration: AFTER A BATTLE.] THE STORY OF THE RED CROSS IV. War Sacrifices. Feeling the need of getting away for a brief time from these harrowing scenes, at six o’clock in the evening of June 27th Monsieur Dunant left Castiglione for Cavriana, where the Emperor Napoleon had his headquarters. On his journey, which was made in a little carriage hired at Brescia, he had to pass over the scene of the recent carnage. He describes the view, “Here and there were still pools of blood, and numerous fresh mounds of earth marked the last resting places of the victims of the 24th.” Even in the cemetery of Solferino, not only were the monumental crosses and grave stones bespattered with blood, but the whole burying ground in dire confusion was strewn with sabres, muskets, havresacks, cartridge pouches, mess-tins, helmets and belts, most of which were twisted, bent and broken. Arrived at Cavriana, Dunant at once inquired for Marshal MacMahon whom he knew personally. His inquiries surprised a group of generals sitting on common chairs before the humble cottage which their sovereign had made his temporary abode. They began to speculate as to his mission and as to who he was, for that a simple tourist would take such risks at such a time was altogether beyond their comprehension. The corporal who accompanied Monsieur Dunant in the capacity of servant, was impenetrable: he knew nothing, while replying respectfully to their questions. Their curiosity was still further augmented when they saw Dunant set out for Borghetto, the headquarters of the Marshal, where he arrived about midnight. He pictures the drive amidst the camp fires, where whole trees were burning, the lighted tents of the officers, the peaceful murmurs of the army seeking its repose, the starlit Italian sky and the solemn silence after the noise and the emotions of the previous days. At six o’clock next morning he was cordially received by Marshal MacMahon, after which he returned to his wounded at Castiglione. The 30th of June found Dunant at Brescia, where in the old cathedral were over a thousand wounded. Here the women of all classes vied with each other in supplying the needs of the unfortunate brethren in their midst. They brought oranges, jellies, biscuits and other dainties. Even the humblest widow contributed her sympathy and modest gift. The population of Brescia, normally 40,000, was nearly doubled by the multitudes of sick and wounded brought there. The Italian doctors to the number of 140 were assisted by the students of the medical colleges. Committees were formed to receive gifts of bedclothes, linen and provisions of all kinds. In the vast halls of the various hospitals and in all the churches thousands of battered remnants of humanity were the subjects of amputation, to many of whom the word was as the sentence of death.