" said a voice I knew at once to be
Murat's. "Well, sir, what is't?"

"The Russian columns are in motion, Monsieur le Marechal; the artillery
moving rapidly towards our right."

"_Diantre!_ it's not much more than midnight! Davoust, shall we awake
the Emperor?"

"No, no," said a harsh voice, as a shrivelled, hard-featured man turned
round from the blaze, and showing a head covered by a coarse woollen
cap, looked far more like a pirate than a marshal of France; "they 'll
not attack before day breaks. Go back," said he, addressing me; "observe
the position well, and if there be any general movement towards the
southward, you may report it."

By the time I regained my post, all was in silence once more; either the
Russians had arrested their march, or already their columns were out
of hearing,--not a gleam of light could I perceive along their entire
position. And now, worn out with watching, I threw myself down among the
straw, and slept soundly.

"There! there! that's the third!" said General d'Auvergne, shaking me by
the shoulder; "there again! Don't you hear the guns?"

I listened, and could just distinguish the faint booming sound of
far-off artillery coming up from the extreme right of our position. It
was still but three o'clock, and although the sky was thick with stars,
perfectly dark in the valley. Meanwhile we could bear the galloping of
cavalry quite distinctly in the same direction.

"Mount, Burke, and back to the quartier-general! But you need not; here
comes some of the staff."

"So, D'Auvergne," cried a voice whose tones were strange to me, "they
meditate a night attack, it would seem; or is it only trying the range
of their guns?"

"I think the latter, Monsieur le Marechal, for I heard no small arms;
and, even now, all is quiet again."

"I believe you are right," said he, moving slowly forward, while a
number of officers followed at a little distance. "You see, D'Auvergne,
how correctly the Emperor judged their intentions. The brunt of the
battle will be about Reygern. But there! don't you hear bugles in the
valley?"

As he spoke, the music of our tirailleurs' bugles arose from the glen
in front of our centre, where, in a thick beech-wood, the light infantry
regiments were posted.

"What is it, D'Esterre?" said he to an officer who galloped up at the
moment.

"They say the Russian Guard, sir, is moving to the front; our
skirmishers have orders to fall back without firing."

As he heard