The night was short. Before day dawned the horses were saddled and the
men ready to mount. And as soon as the first rays of morning filtered
through, my squadron, which had been told off as advance guard of the
brigade, rapidly descended the steep slopes which commanded the small
town of Condé. A.'s troop led. My business was to reconnoitre the
eastern part of the town with mine, whilst F., with his troop, was to
see to the western quarters.

With sabres drawn, our Chasseurs distributed themselves briskly, by
squads, through the streets of the old city. The horses' hoofs
resounded cheerily on the paved streets between the old grey houses.
The inhabitants ventured out upon their doorsteps, in spite of the
early hour, with some hesitation at first, but glad indeed when they
saw our light-blue uniforms; they cheered, crying: "They are gone!...
they are gone!" But some old folk replied more calmly to my questions:
"_Monsieur l'Officier_, have a care. They were here an hour ago with a
large number of horses and guns. There was even a general, with his
whole staff, lodged at the great house up there.... We would not swear
that some of them are not there still."

I collected my troop, and then went quickly to the château which stood
at the northern entrance of Condé. It was rather a fine building, but
I had not time to notice its architectural style. Haste was necessary,
for the brigade behind me was due to arrive. As far as I remember, the
château formed a harmonious whole, and the different parts of it
showed up cheerfully against the dark foliage of the park, which was
still glittering after the night's rain. The building was in the form
of a horseshoe, and in the centre there was a kind of courtyard
bordered by two rows of orange trees in tubs.