“We will not go then, friend, in the direction our enemies expect us,” said Trenck, merrily.  “They saw us running toward the Bohemian boundary, and they will follow in that direction through night and fog.  We will fly where they are not seeking us—­we will cross the Reise.  Do you see there a line of silver shimmering through the fog, and advancing to meet us?  Spring upon my back, Schnell.  We must cross the Reise!”

“I cannot, Trenck, I suffer agony with my foot.  It is impossible for me to swim.”

“I can swim for both.”

He knelt down, took his friend upon his back, and ran with him to the river.  And now they stood upon the shore.  Solemnly, drearily, the waves dashed over their feet, sweeping onward large blocks of ice which obstructed the current.

“Is the river deep, comrade?”

“In the middle of the stream, deep enough to cover a giant like yourself.”

“Onward, then!  When I can no longer walk, I can swim.  Hold fast, Schnell!”

Onward, in the dark, ice-cold water, bravely onward, with his friend upon his back!  Higher and higher rose the waves!  Now they reached his shoulder!

“Hold fast to my hair, Schnell, we must swim!”

With herculean strength he swam through the dark, wild waters, and dashed the ice-blocks which rushed against him from his path.

Now they have reached the other shore.  Not yet safe—­but safe from immediate danger.  The blessed night conceals their course, and their pursuers seek them on the other shore.

Suddenly the fog is dispersed; a rough bleak wind freezes the moisture in the atmosphere, and the moon rose in cloudless majesty in the heavens.  It was a cold, clear December night, and the wet clothes of the fugitives were frozen stiff, like a harness, upon them.  Trenck felt neither cold nor stiff; he carried his friend upon his shoulders, and that kept him warm; he walked so rapidly, his limbs could not stiffen.

Onward, ever onward to the mountains!  They reached the first hill, under whose protecting shadows they sank down to rest, and take counsel together.

“Trenck, I suffer great agony; I implore you to leave me here and save yourself.  In a few hours you can pass the border.  Leave me, then, and save yourself!”

“I will never desert a friend in necessity.  Come, I am refreshed.”

He took up his comrade and pressed on.  The moon had concealed herself behind the clouds; the cold, cutting winds howled through the mountains.  Stooping, Trenck waded on through the snow.  He was scarcely able now to hold himself erect.  Hope inspired him with strength and courage—­they had wandered far, they must soon reach the border.

Day broke! the pale rays of the December sun melted the mountain vapors into morning.  The two comrades were encamped upon the snow, exhausted with their long march, hopefully peering here and there after the Bohemian boundary.