Peter," said O'Brien, starting up, "you sha'n't sleep here--follow me." I expostulated in vain.

It was almost dark, and he led me to the village, near which he pitched upon a hovel (a sort of out-house).
"Peter, here is shelter; lie down and sleep, and I'll keep the watch.
Not a word, I will have it--down at once." I did so, and in a very few minutes was fast asleep, for I was worn out with cold and fatigue.

For several days we had walked all night, and the rest we gained by day was trifling.

Oh how I longed for a warm bed with four or five blankets! Just as the day broke, O'Brien roused me; he had stood sentry all night, and looked very haggard.
"O'Brien, you are ill," said I.
"Not a bit; but I've emptied the brandy-flask; and that's a bad job.
However, it is to be remedied." We then returned to the wood in a mizzling rain and fog, for the weather had changed, and the frost had broken up.

The thaw was even worse than the frost, and we felt the cold more.