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On her brow, as is the custom with reapers, she had fastened a

curved sickle, freshly polished by cutting grasses, bright as the

new moon above the brow of Diana.

All admired and clapped their hands. One of the officers took

from his pocket a portfolio containing bundles of papers; he

undid them, sharpened his pencil, moistened it with his lips,

gazed at Zosia, and began to draw. Hardly had the Judge beheld

the papers and pencils, when he recognised the artist, though he

had been greatly changed by his colonel's uniform, his rich

epaulets, his truly uhlan-like bearing, his blackened mustache,

and a small Spanish beard. The Judge recognised the Count: "How

are you, Your Excellency? So you keep a travelling painter's kit

even in your cartridge box!" In very truth it was the young

Count. He was a soldier of no long standing, but since he had a

large income and had fitted out a whole troop of cavalry at his

own expense, and had borne himself admirably in the very first

battle, the Emperor had to-day just appointed him a colonel.