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- Стр. 1161/1273
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Morel
,
pointing
to
his
shoulders
,
tried
to
impress
on
the
soldiers
the
fact
that
Ramballe
was
an
officer
and
ought
to
be
warmed
.
A
Russian
officer
who
had
come
up
to
the
fire
sent
to
ask
his
colonel
whether
he
would
not
take
a
French
officer
into
his
hut
to
warm
him
,
and
when
the
messenger
returned
and
said
that
the
colonel
wished
the
officer
to
be
brought
to
him
,
Ramballe
was
told
to
go
.
He
rose
and
tried
to
walk
,
but
staggered
and
would
have
fallen
had
not
a
soldier
standing
by
held
him
up
.
"
You
wo
n't
do
it
again
,
eh
?
"
said
one
of
the
soldiers
,
winking
and
turning
mockingly
to
Ramballe
.
"
Oh
,
you
fool
!
Why
talk
rubbish
,
lout
that
you
are
--
a
real
peasant
!
"
came
rebukes
from
all
sides
addressed
to
the
jesting
soldier
.
They
surrounded
Ramballe
,
lifted
him
on
the
crossed
arms
of
two
soldiers
,
and
carried
him
to
the
hut
.
Ramballe
put
his
arms
around
their
necks
while
they
carried
him
and
began
wailing
plaintively
:
"
Oh
,
you
fine
fellows
,
my
kind
,
kind
friends
!
These
are
men
!
Oh
,
my
brave
,
kind
friends
,
"
and
he
leaned
his
head
against
the
shoulder
of
one
of
the
men
like
a
child
.
Meanwhile
Morel
was
sitting
in
the
best
place
by
the
fire
,
surrounded
by
the
soldiers
.
Morel
,
a
short
sturdy
Frenchman
with
inflamed
and
streaming
eyes
,
was
wearing
a
woman
's
cloak
and
had
a
shawl
tied
woman
fashion
round
his
head
over
his
cap
.
He
was
evidently
tipsy
,
and
was
singing
a
French
song
in
a
hoarse
broken
voice
,
with
an
arm
thrown
round
the
nearest
soldier
.
The
soldiers
simply
held
their
sides
as
they
watched
him
.
"
Now
then
,
now
then
,
teach
us
how
it
goes
!
I
'll
soon
pick
it
up
.
How
is
it
?
"
said
the
man
--
a
singer
and
a
wag
--
whom
Morel
was
embracing
.
"
Vive
Henri
Quatre
!
Vive
ce
roi
valiant
!
"
sang
Morel
,
winking
.
"
Ce
diable
à
quatre
...
"
*
