horses dead beat; the cannon, huge, formless masses of clay, were dragged slowly and painfully forward. It was evident that the commander of the division had doubled his teams, but the heavy guns could scarcely be moved, even by twice the number of horses attached. The poor brutes had no rest, for, as fast as one gun arrived, both teams were unhitched and sent over the road to bring up another. A halt was made on the plateau. It was evident to the experienced eyes of the watchers that a camp was about to be pitched. The two men stared in keen interest, with eyes alight with hatred. What they had seen in the country they had just passed intensified that hatred, and to the natural racial antagonism, fostered by years of war, were now added bitter personal resentments. 

 "That's one of old Marshal Forward's divisions," said the grenadier, referring to Blücher by his already accepted name, "but what one?" 

 "Russians, by the look of them," answered Marteau. 

 "You say well. I have seen those green caps and green overcoats before. Umph," answered Bullet-Stopper, making for him an extraordinarily long speech, "it was colder then than it is now, but we always beat them. At Friedland, at Eylau, at Borodino, aye, even at the Beresina. It was the cold and hunger that beat us. What wouldn't the guard give to be where we are now. Look at them. They are so sure of themselves that they haven't thrown out a picket or sentries." 

 In fact, neither Blücher nor any of his commanders apprehended any danger whatsoever. That Napoleon would dare to fall on them was unthinkable. That there could be a single French soldier in their vicinity save those under Macdonald, being hard pressed by Yorck, never entered anybody's head. 

 "What Russians are they, do you think?" asked Marteau of his comrade. 

 "How should I know?" growled the other.  "All Russians are alike to me, and——" 

 Marteau, however, had heard discussions during the time he had been on duty in Napoleon's headquarters. 

 "That will be Sacken's corps, unless I am very much mistaken," he said. 

 "And those up yonder toward Épernay, where the firing comes from?" asked the grenadier. 

 Marteau shook his head. 

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