ur unhappy army was flying. But I soon had proof that
some of our stragglers had wandered into these side tracks, for I came
suddenly upon a horse grazing at the corner of a field, and beside
him, with his back against the bank, his master, a French Cuirassier,
terribly wounded and evidently on the point of death. I sprang down,
seized his long, heavy sword, and rode on with it. Never shall I forget
the poor man's face as he looked at me with his failing sight. He was an
old, grey-moustached soldier, one of the real fanatics, and to him this
last vision of his Emperor was like a revelation from on high.

Astonishment, love, pride--all shone in his pallid face. He said
something--I fear they were his last words--but I had no time to listen,
and I galloped on my way.

All this time I had been on the meadow-land, which was intersected in
this part by broad ditches. Some of them could not have been less than
from fourteen to fifteen feet, and my heart was in my mouth as I went at
each of them, for a slip would have been my ruin.

But whoever selected the Emperor's horses had done his work well. The
creature, save when it balked on the bank of the Sambre, never failed me
for an instant.

We cleared everything in one stride. And yet we could not shake off!
those infernal Prussians. As I left each water-course behind me I looked
back with renewed hope; but it was only to see Stein on his white-legged
chestnut flying over it as lightly as I had done myself. He was my
enemy, but I honoured him for the way in which he carried himself that
day.

Again and again I measured the distance which separated him from the
next horseman. I had the idea that I might turn and cut him down, as
I had the Hussar, before his comrade could come to his help. But the
others had closed up and were not far behind. I reflected that this Stein
was probably as fine a swordsman as he was a rider, and that it might
take me some little time to get the better of him. In that case the
others would come to his aid and I should be lost. On the whole, it was
wiser to continue my flight.

A road with poplars on either side ran across the plain from east to
west. It would lead me toward that long line of dust which marked the
French retreat. I wheeled my horse, therefore, and galloped down it. As
I rode I saw a single house in front of me upon the right, with a great
bush hung over the door to mark it as an inn. Outside there were several
peasants, but for