prodding the horses, and urging them on. A catastrophe, which might well have happened to them much sooner, put a stop to their advance. The carriage was overturned. "I expected it," cried the imperturbable grenadier. "Ho! ho! your man is dead." "Poor Laurent!" said the major. "Laurent? Was he in the 5th chasseurs?" "Yes." "Then he was my cousin. Oh, well, this dog's life isn't happy enough to waste any joy in grieving for him." The carriage could not be raised; the horses were taken out with serious and, as it proved, irreparable loss of time. The shock of the overturn was so violent that the young countess, roused from her lethargy, threw off her coverings and rose. "Philippe, where are we?" she cried in a gentle voice, looking about her. "Only five hundred feet from the bridge. We are now going to cross the Beresina, Stephanie, and once across I will not torment you any more; you shall sleep; we shall be in safety, and can reach Wilna easily. -- God grant that she may never know what her life has cost!" he thought. "Philippe! you are wounded!" "That is nothing." Too late! the fatal hour had come. The Russian cannon sounded the reveille. Masters of Studzianka, they could sweep the plain, and by daylight the major could see two of their columns moving and forming on the heights. A cry of alarm arose from the multitude, who started to their feet in an instant. Every man now understood his danger instinctively, and the whole mass rushed to gain the bridge with the motion of a wave. The Russians came down with the rapidity of a conflagration. Men, women, children, horses,--all rushed tumultuously to the bridge. Fortunately the major, who was carrying the countess, was still some distance from it. General Eble had just set fire to the supports on the other bank. In spite of the warnings shouted to those who were rushing upon the bridge, not a soul went back. Not only did the bridge go down crowded with human beings, but the impetuosity of that flood of men toward the fatal bank was so furious that a mass of humanity