Almost at the same moment a company of the rear-guard came thundering by, forcing their way through the living mass, and cutting down without remorse or pity all who obstructed their retreat. “Time to go _now_,” said Féron with an effort. “Monsieur Henri, don’t stay for me. I thought _I_ would have brought home news of you; now _you_--but go, I entreat of you, go at once. No time to lose.” “Never, while _you_ breathe. Besides, as you said, the Emperor will not leave a Frenchman behind him.” Recollecting that Madame Leone had filled with wine the flask Féron himself had left with him, he mixed some of its contents with snow-water, and put the reviving draught to the lips of his comrade. “Monsieur Henri,” murmured Féron, “can you say a prayer for me? You used to pray, though we laughed at you for it in the regiment.” “There is one prayer I have often prayed since all this trouble came upon us,” said Henri. “It is good, and it is short; you can say it for yourself--‘God be merciful to me a sinner, for Jesus Christ’s sake.’” “God be merciful to me a sinner, for Jesus Christ’s sake,” Féron repeated earnestly; and during the hour that followed--an hour that seemed like a year to Henri--the cry was often on his lips. But he grew weaker and weaker, until at last he fell into a kind of stupor, while Henri watched silently beside him. Just about the dawning of the day, a cry, great and terrible, thrilled every heart, and reached even the dulled ear of the dying man. He roused himself, and murmured faintly, “What is it, Monsieur Henri?” Henri knew too well. All around him were repeating, in tones that expressed every variation of anguish and despair--“The bridge is on fire! the bridge is burning!” So, after all, Napoleon had _not_ waited until every Frenchman was safe on the other side! “‘The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep,’” thought Henri bitterly. “But _thou_ shalt never know, Féron. This pang at least shall be spared thy dying hour.” He bent once more over his friend, who was feebly repeating the question--“Monsieur Henri, what is it?” “Nothing that concerns you or me,” Henri answered firmly. “Do you suffer, comrade?” “No--no pain. Only I am sinking--sinking. I want to say that prayer again. God be merciful--for Christ’s sake.”