It was not until ten o'clock that night that Marechal Victor reached
the bank of the river. Before crossing the bridge which led to Zembin,
he confided the fate of his own rear-guard now left in Studzianka to
Eble, the savior of all those who survived the calamities of the
Beresina. It was towards midnight when this great general, followed by
one brave officer, left the cabin he occupied near the bridge, and
studied the spectacle of that improvised camp placed between the bank
of the river and Studzianka. The Russian cannon had ceased to thunder.
Innumerable fires, which, amid that trackless waste of snow, burned
pale and scarcely sent out any gleams, illumined here and there by
sudden flashes forms and faces that were barely human. Thirty thousand
poor wretches, belonging to all nations, from whom Napoleon had
recruited his Russian army, were trifling away their lives with
brutish indifference.
"Let us save them!" said General Eble to the officer who accompanied
him. "To-morrow morning the Russians will be masters of Studzianka. We
must burn the bridge the moment they appear. Therefore, my friend,
take your courage in your hand! Go to the heights. Tell General
Fournier he has barely time to evacuate his position, force a way
through this crowd, and cross the bridge.
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