helped to regale the dragoons after their long and rapid march, while the
stout steeds that had borne them found a delightful repast in the high rye
that waved under their noses. Here they beheld passing on the road beside
them many wounded Belgians, and could see before them, at the distance of
a quarter of a mile, the French bayonets glistening over the high fields
of corn, and hear distinctly the occasional discharges of musketry from
tirailleurs. Gray's heart leaped with joy, and he thought no more of
Brussels.

"What's this place called?" inquired one of the dragoons, generally of his
comrades.

"Called!--Oh, some jaw-breaking Dutch name of a yard long, I suppose,"
replied another. "Ax Gentleman Gray--he'll tell you."

"Well, Mr. Gray, do you know the name of this here place?"

"I believe," replied Gray, "we are near a point called _Quatre Bras_, or
the four roads."

"Well," rejoined the other, "if there were half-a-dozen roads, it wouldn't
be too much for these here Flemingers--yon road's not wide enough for
them, you see. Look, here's a regiment o' them coming back!"

"Ah! poor fellows--we might be in the same situation," observed Gray;
"remember that their force is not strong in comparison with the French, by
the accounts that have been received; better to fall back at the first of
a fight than at the last."

"I say, Jack," said another, with his mouth full of biscuit, "did you ever