The following story of the Crimean War, told by the Russian author, Turgenieff, is well authenticated.

A young Russian Lieutenant, named Sergius Ivanovitch, was one cold night with an attacking party whose object was to drive a body of French soldiers from their position in front of the Russian lines. Wishing to be as free from hindrances as possible, this young lieutenant did not take his military cloak.

The French proved to be well posted on the edge of a wood. At the end of a desperate fight, the Russians were forced to retreat, leaving behind them their dead and wounded. Among the latter was Sergius Ivanovitch.

How he now longed for his cloak! He suffered even more from the cold than from his wound. Although a bullet was in his leg, he knew that the exposure, rather than the wound, would be the death of him. With many a shiver and groan, he was trying to examine his leg, when he heard some one say in French:

'You had better leave it alone. Be patient, and disturb your wound as little as possible.'

The man who thus spoke was a veteran French captain, who lay close by, more severely injured than Sergius.

'You are right, no doubt,' said the Russian; 'but I shall die of cold before morning.'

Then the Frenchman blamed him for coming out in the snow without his cloak. 'I have learned by experience,' said he, 'never to go out without mine. This time, however, it will not save me, for I am mortally wounded.'

'Your people will fetch you presently.'

'No, my dear enemy, I shall not last until help arrives. It is all over with me, for the shot has gone deep. Here! take my cloak. Wrap yourself up in it and sleep. One can sleep anywhere at your age.'

The young Russian protested in vain. He felt the cloak laid upon him, and its warmth sent him to sleep.

When he awoke in the morning, the French captain lay dead at his side. The Russian never forgot this generous act of one whom the policy of his nation had made his enemy.

E. D.