being carried down by a millrace;
and, in fact, no dangers nor inconveniences of the road in front of me
could equal those of the course I had just come. Besides all this,
to return to Fleisheim would probably bring me far in the rear of the
advancing columns, while if I pushed on towards Landshut I might catch
sight of them from some rising spot of ground.

'You will go, I see,' cried the host, as he saw me set out. 'Perhaps
you're right; the old adage says, "It's often the roughest road leads to
the smoothest fortune."'

Even that much encouragement was not without its value. I spurred into
a canter with fresh spirits. The host of the little inn had not
exaggerated--the road was execrable. Heavy rocks and mounds of earth had
slipped down with the rains of winter, and remained in the middle of the
way. The fallen masonry of the bridges had driven the streams into new
channels with deep pools among them; broken waggons and ruined carts
marked the misfortunes of some who had ventured on the track; and except
for a well-mounted and resolute horseman the way was impracticable. I
was well-nigh overcome by fatigue and exhaustion, as, clambering up a
steep hill, with the bridle on my arm, I gained the crest of the ridge,
and suddenly saw Landshut--for it could be no other--before me. I have
looked at many new pictures and scenes, but I own I never beheld one
that gave me half the pleasure. The ancient town, with its gaunt old
belfries, and still more ancient castle, stood on a bend of the Inn,
which was here crossed by a long wooden bridge, supported on boats, a
wide track of shingle and gravel on either side showing the course into
which the melting snows often swelled the stream. From the point where
I stood I could see into the town. The Platz, the old gardens of the
nunnery, the terrace of the castle, all were spread out before me; and
to my utter surprise there seemed little or no movement going forward.
There were two guns in position at the bridge; some masons were at
work on the houses, beside the river, piercing the walls for the use of
musketry, and an infantry battalion was under arms in the market-place.
These were all the preparations I could discover against the advance of
a great army. But so it was; the Austrian spies had totally misled them,
and while they believed that the great bulk of the French lay around
Ratisbon, the centre of the army, sixty-five thousand strong, and led by
Napoleon himself, was in ma