“Pull it up a bit,” Hector said.  “No doubt it belongs to some poor fisherman to whom its loss would be serious.  Now we must keep along the bank for some distance, until quite sure that we are well beyond any patrols the enemy may have on the road.  Let us get into a run, Paolo, and see if we can’t get our blood in motion again, for I own that I feel half frozen.”

They set off at a brisk trot, which they kept up for half an hour, and then they struck off from the river and soon found the road.  Following this, after an hour’s walking they came upon a little shed by the roadside, and in one corner found a pile of old sacks.

“We are in luck again!” Hector exclaimed joyfully.  “Tired as I am, I don’t think that I could have slept in these wet clothes, if one can call them wet —­ at present they are frozen stiff.  These sacks are the very thing.  We can strip now and wring out our clothes thoroughly.  There are enough sacks here to lay under us and cover us too.  After wringing out the shirts we will put them in under the sacks next to us.  The heat of our bodies will dry them to some extent, and they will be warm to put on in the morning.  The other things we can pile over us.  There is no chance of their getting dry; but I am so pleased with our success that I am not disposed to grumble at trifles.”

CHAPTER V:  THE RELIEF OF THE CITADEL

As soon as the first gleam of daylight showed itself Hector and his companion were on their feet again.

The operation of dressing was by no means a comfortable one, for the frost had set in in earnest during the night, and their clothes, with the exception of the shirts, were as stiff as boards.  The snow had ceased and the sky was clear.

“It is going to be a fine day, master,” Paolo said as they left the hut.

“That is better than battling with a snowstorm such as that of yesterday evening.  Come on, Paolo, let us trot for a bit.  The snow is four inches deep, and we shall soon get warm running through it.”

In a quarter of an hour they broke into a walk again, panting from their exertions.

“I am as warm as a toast now, Paolo.  There is a village half a mile ahead.  I expect that lies on the road.  The sun will be up before we get there, and no doubt we shall be able to get some hot spiced wine and some bread at a wineshop.”

This turned out to be the case.  They had settled what story to tell; and when the landlord asked what brought them there so early, Paolo said that they had been on the road a couple of hours, as they were going to see an aunt who was ill at Chivasso, and their father wanted them back again that night.  The explanation satisfied the host and he asked no further questions, and in ten minutes they were on their way again, greatly warmed and comforted by their meal, and after walking for another hour and a half they arrived at the bridge of Chivasso.  There was a strong guard at the bridge head, for at any moment the garrison of Turin, aided by a force from Leganez’s army, might endeavour to carry the town by a sudden assault.  The lads passed the bridge unquestioned, entered the gate of the town, and made their way to the commandant’s house.