He came and shook his head bluntly. For even
an old doctor may be hardened at the end of his life by an orgy, as
it were, of death.
"I could cure him," he said, "if there were no Russians outside the
walls; if I could give him fresh milk and good brandy and strong
soup."
But even Barlasch could not find milk in Dantzig. The brandy was
forthcoming, and the fresh meat; the soup Desiree made with her own
hands. Sebastian had not been the same man since the closing of the
roads and the gradual death of his hopes that the Dantzigers would
rise against the soldiers that thronged their streets. At one time
it would have been easy to carry out such a movement, and to throw
themselves and their city upon the mercy of the Russians. But
Dantzig awoke to this possibility too late, when Rapp's iron hand
had closed in upon it. He knew his own strength so well that he
treated with a contemptuous leniency such citizens as were convicted
of communicating with the enemy.
Sebastian's friends seemed to have deserted him. Perhaps it was not
discreet to be seen in the company of one who had come under
Napoleon's displeasure. Some had quitted the city after hurriedly
concealing their valuables in their gardens, behind the chimneys,
beneath the floors, where it is to be supposed they still lie
hidden. Others were among the weekly thousand or twelve hundred who
were carted out by the Oliva Gate to be thrown into huge trenches,
while the waiting Russians watched from their lines on the heights
of Langfuhr.
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