If He intended us for such a rough life, He should have
made the human frame capable of going longer without food. To a
poor soldier marching from Moscow to have to stop every three hours
and gnaw a piece of horse that has died--and raw--it is not
amusing."
He watched Desiree with a grudging eye. For she was young, and had
eaten nothing for six freezing hours.
"And for us," he added; "what a waste of time!"
Desiree rose at once with a laugh.
"You want to go," she said. "Come, I am ready."
"Yes," he admitted, "I want to go. I am afraid--name of a dog! I
am afraid, I tell you. For I have heard the Cossacks cry, 'Hurrah!
Hurrah!' And they are coming."
"Ah!" said Desiree, "that is what your friend told you."
"That, and other things."
He was pulling on his gloves as he spoke, and turned quickly on his
heel when the innkeeper entered the room, as if he had expected one
of those dread Cossacks of Toula who were half savage. But the
innkeeper carried nothing more lethal in his hand than a yellow mug
of beer, which he offered to Barlasch. And the old soldier only
shook his head.
"There is poison in it," he muttered. "He knows I am a Frenchman."
"Come," said Desiree, with her gay laugh, "I will show you that
there is no poison in it."
She took the mug and drank, and handed the measure to Barlasch. It
was a poor thin beer, and Barlasch was not one to hide his opinion
from the host, to whom he made a reproving grimace when he returned
the empty mug.
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