tunic and my sabre at my side I set out upon my adventure.

A thin rain was falling and there was no moon, so you may imagine
that it was not very cheerful. But my heart was light at the
thought of the honour which had been done me and the glory which
awaited me. This exploit should be one more in that brilliant
series which was to change my sabre into a baton. Ah, how we
dreamed, we foolish fellows, young, and drunk with success!
Could I have foreseen that night as I rode, the chosen man of
sixty thousand, that I should spend my life planting cabbages on
a hundred francs a month! Oh, my youth, my hopes, my comrades!
But the wheel turns and never stops. Forgive me, my friends, for
an old man has his weakness.

My route, then, lay across the face of the high ground of Torres
Vedras, then over a streamlet, past a farmhouse which had been
burned down and was now only a landmark, then through a forest of
young cork oaks, and so to the monastery of San Antonio, which
marked the left of the English position. Here I turned south and
rode quietly over the downs, for it was at this point that
Massena thought that it would be most easy for me to find my way
unobserved through the position. I went very slowly, for it was
so dark that I could not see my hand in front of me. In such
cases I leave my bridle loose and let my horse pick its own way.
Voltigeur went confidently forward, and I was very content to sit
upon his back and to peer about me, avoiding every light.

For three hours we advanced in this cautious way, until it seemed
to me that I must have left all danger behind me. I then pushed
on more briskly, for I wished to be in the rear of the whole army