nerves just as it had done years before, when, with Edie by my side, I
had seen the merchant-ship fight with the privateers. It was so loud
now that it seemed to me that the battle must be going on just beyond
the nearest wood, but my friend the sergeant knew better.

"It's twelve to fifteen mile off," said he. "You may be sure the
general knows we are not wanted, or we should not be resting here at
Hal."

What he said proved to be true, for a minute later down came the colonel
with orders that we should pile arms and bivouac where we were; and
there we stayed all day, while horse and foot and guns, English, Dutch,
and Hanoverians, were streaming through. The devil's music went on till
evening, sometimes rising into a roar, sometimes sinking into a grumble,
until about eight o'clock in the evening it stopped altogether. We were
eating our hearts out, as you may think, to know what it all meant, but
we knew that what the Duke did would be for the best, so we just waited
in patience.

Next day the brigade remained at Hal in the morning, but about mid-day
came an orderly from the Duke, and we pushed on once more until we came
to a little village called Braine something, and there we stopped; and
time too, for a sudden thunderstorm broke over us, and a plump of rain
that turned all the roads and the fields into bog and mire. We got into
the barns at this village for shelter, and there we found two
stragglers--one from a kilted regiment, and the other a man of the
German Legion, who had a tale to tell that was as dreary as the weather.

Boney had thrashed the Prussians the day before, and our fellows had
been sore put to it to hold their own against Ney, but had beaten him