1831.] The Wife of the Polish Patriot. 373 



hear; but the concluding words were u a kinder act to Jinish them 

 than to leave them to the tender mercies of such a night, or the pike of 

 the Cossack/ 7 Aimee' s blood ran cold ; she pressed her husband and 

 child closer to her, and then softly looked out from the solitary wain to 

 see if any aid yet remained in view. The moon, shining sickly through 

 a northern haze, shewed one drear sheet of snow, broken into inequali- 

 ties only by the fallen bodies of men and horses, which the descending 

 flakes were fast covering. Nothing was to be seen but here and there 

 (at a distance that forbade the reach of a voice) a dark spot or two which 

 might indicate a crawling wain, or body of re-collecting stragglers ; and 

 nothing was to be heard save, from time to time, a faint and far-off yell 

 of some descending cloud of Cossacks falling on the hapless, lagging 

 remains of a French corps. The pitiless northern blast drove blinding 

 storms of sleet and snow into the covered vehicle as Aimee looked forth. 

 But her feelings of horror gradually sobered down. Aimee was sur- 

 prised at first almost startled to find how little they affected her. 

 She tried to rouse herself to think of some appeal by which she might 

 move the steeled bosom of the wain drivers ; but a languid dislike to 

 exertion stole over her. Her attention to her beloved Roman changed 

 to a feeling of indifference ; her hold on her boy loosened, and the 

 devoted Aimee began to lapse into that cold and benumbing slumber 

 which, in those frigid regions, so often precedes the deep and final repose 

 of the sleeper. 



Such might have proved the dreamless slumber of Aimee Ladoinski, 

 but she was roused by the violent forcing of some cordial down her 

 throat. Aimee once more opened her eyes. She was still seated in the 

 wain ; but the rising sun was reddening with his slanting and wintry 

 beams the drear and unbroken sheets of snow which stretched behind 

 her, while its rays tinged with a cold and sickly crimson the minarets 

 and half-ruined buildings of a partially-dismantled city which lay before 

 her. This city was Smolensk, a depot of the French army, and the 

 longed-for object of its miserable and half-starved stragglers. 



In a detachment which was sent out to reconnoitre the coming crowd 

 of phantoms were several individuals who, with or without authority, 

 visited the baggage-waggons of their newly-arrived compatriots. " Why, 

 here is a woman !" exclaimed a young French cornet, who, with a com- 

 panion or two, had entered the wain where Aimee was sitting stiff, 

 erect, and senseless. " Here is a young woman ; and, by Heavens, a fair 

 and delicate one. How came such commodity, I wonder, in this mili- 

 tary wain ; and a little boy and alive too ! How could so tender a 

 thing weather out the last fearful night? But, soft she breathes. 

 'Gad, I am Frenchman enough not to leave such pretty stuff to perish 

 for want of a taste of my pocket-pistol/' He tried to pour some brandy 

 from a small bottle down her throat. " 'Gad, her white teeth are set as 

 close as a French column. I am sorry to use force, Madam, but you 

 shan't die for want of a little muscular exertion on my part. So there's 

 nothing like Cognac she's coming to, I perceive/' 



Aimee and her boy were lifted from the wain, and quickly moved 

 forward through the noisy and increasing throng. " Why, this is the 

 wife of Captain Ladoinski," said one of his companions ; " I have seen 

 her in better times and fitter company. I know her by her delicate 

 features and complexion. She is certainly the wife of Roman Lado- 

 inski." " Say rather his widow/' observed a passing straggler ; " for 



