meet this new enemy, never doubting that Grouchy, at any rate, was
following close on the Prussians' heels.

"You see, the Emperor had on the previous day detached Marshal Grouchy
with the whole right wing of the army, about fifty thousand men, to
hold Bluecher and Buelow in check. But Grouchy--but of course all this is
familiar to you--" the captain broke off.

Cousin Hans nodded reassuringly.

"Ney, accordingly, began the attack with his usual intrepidity. But the
English cavalry hurled themselves upon the Frenchmen, broke their ranks,
and forced them back with the loss of two eagles and several cannons.
Milhaud rushes to the rescue with his cuirassiers, and the Emperor
himself, seeing the danger, puts spurs to his horse and gallops down the
incline of Belle-Alliance."

Away rushed the captain, prancing like a horse, in his eagerness to show
how the Emperor rode through thick and thin, rallied Ney's troops, and
sent them forward to a fresh attack.

Whether it was that there lurked a bit of the poet in Cousin Hans, or
that the captain's representation was really very vivid, or that--and
this is probably the true explanation--he was in love with the captain's
daughter, certain it is that Cousin Hans was quite carried away by the
situation.

He no longer saw a queer old captain prancing sideways; he saw, through
the cloud of smoke, the Emperor himself on his white horse with the
black eyes, as we know it from the engravings. He tore away over hedge
and ditch, over meadow and garden, his staff with difficulty keeping
up with him. Cool and calm, he sat firmly in his saddle, with his
half-unbuttoned gray coat, his white breeches, and his little hat,
crosswise on his head. His face expressed neither weariness nor anxiety;
smooth and pale as marble, it gave to the whole figure in the simple
uniform on the white horse an exalted, almost a spectral, aspect.

Thus he swept on his course, this sanguinary little monster, who in
three days had fought three battles. All hastened to clear the way for
him, flying peasants, troops in reserve or advancing--aye, even the
wounded and dying dragged themselves aside, and looked up at him with
a mixture of terror and admiration, as he tore past them like a cold
thunderbolt.

Scarcely had he shown himself among the soldiers before they all fell
into order as though by magic, and a moment afterwards the undaunted Ney
could once more vault into the saddle to renew the attack. And this