Young Kratzek was lying in John's bed and was sleeping.
He looked so young and so pale that the heart of his captor and rescuer was moved to pity.

Light-headed the Austrians might be, but no one could deny them valor.
Just beyond the niche was another and smaller one, seldom used, owing to its extreme narrowness, but John decided that he could sleep in it.

At any rate, if he fell off he would land in six or eight inches of soft snow.
The flakes were still coming down heavily.

It was the biggest snow that he had yet seen in Europe and he believed that it would fall all night.
They had plenty of blankets and spreading two on the shelf which was no broader than himself he lay down and put two more over him.
He was in a pleasant mental glow, because he had saved young Kratzek, forgetting the rest who lay out there under the snow.

All his instincts were for mercy and gentleness, but like others, he was being hardened by war, or at least he was made forgetful.