rk that
the enemy must have something in hand, when R. came hurrying in,
breathless, and in great excitement. 'Hear the latest thing,' he began
at once. 'There has been a Council of War at the Field Marshal's.
General Mouton (Count von der Lobau) is going to fight his way to
Meissen with twelve thousand men and four-and-twenty guns. He marches
out this morning.' After a good deal of discussion we at last adopted
R.'s opinion that this attack, which, from the unceasing watchfulness
of our friends outside, might very probably be disastrous to the enemy,
would very likely force the Field Marshal to capitulate, and so put a
period to our miseries. "How," thought I, as I was going home about
midnight, "can R. have found out what the decision come to was almost
at the very moment it was arrived at?" However, I was presently aware
of a hollow, rumbling sound making itself audible through the deathly
stillness of the night. Guns and ammunition waggons, well loaded up
with forage, began passing slowly by me in the direction of the Elbe
bridge. "R. was right then," I had to say to myself. I followed the
line of their march and got as far as the centre of the bridge, where
there was at that time a broken arch, temporarily repaired with wooden
beams and scaffolding. At each side of this construction was a species
of fortification, constructed of high palisading and earth-works. Here,
close to this fortification, I took up my position, pressing myself
close to the balustrade of the bridge so as not to be seen. It now
seemed to me that the tall palisades began moving backwards and
forwards, and bending over towards me, murmuring hollow, unintelligible
words. The deep darkness of the cloudy night prevented my seeing
anything clearly; but when the troops had crossed, and all was as still
as death on the bridge, I could make out that there was a deep,
oppressed breathing near me, and a faint, mysterious whimpering or
whining--one of the dark, scarcely distinguishable baulks of the timber
was rising into a higher position. An icy horror fell upon me, and,
like a man tortured in a nightmare dream, firmly fettered by leaded
clamps, I could not move a muscle. The night-breeze rose, wafting mists
about the hills: the moon sent feeble rays through rents in the clouds.
And I saw, not far from me, the figure of a tall old man with silvery
hair and a long beard. The mantle which fell over his haunches he had
cast across his breast in numerous hea