"Tell us, tell us," cried half-a-score of voices.
"The aide-de-camp of St. Priest was no other than our great enemy—our conqueror, Alexander, Emperor of Russia!"
His auditors were utterly incredulous. "Have you lost your senses, Pontet?" they cried; "or have the guards been mocking you and us? Not a physician, not a nurse even, would enter here were a fortune offered as a bribe; and do you expect us to believe that the Czar, our enemy, would risk his life—for us?"
"Listen," answered Pontet; "the guards have told me all. He has spent the whole day going through the other hospitals;—at last he came here. M. de St. Priest, knowing well how the deadly hospital fever is raging amongst us, entreated, implored him not to enter. He would not listen. Then the general, in a kind of desperation, flung himself before the door, and, daring his sovereign to his face, told him he should enter only over his body. The Czar put him gently aside and walked in; and I tell you, comrades, there is not a nook or corner in all this den of horrors that he has not thoroughly explored. There was no hiding anything from him. I take it, things will be altered with us from this time forth. My friends, if there is any man amongst you happy enough still to believe in God, let him thank him this night for sending the Emperor Alexander here."
When the comments made by others upon this speech had died away, Henri raised his quivering, tear-stained face and said gently, but with a new air of courage and firmness, "Pontet, I believe in God; and I thank him—as you say." After a pause he added, "Dear comrades, if you will listen, I should like to tell you how it is with me; for, perhaps, some other poor lad may even now be struggling and suffering in darkness, as I have been."
"Say on," cried several voices.
"When I was wandering through the snow, in hunger, in
