CHAPTER V.

THE day after the battle of the Moskwa, I was with the Emperor in his
tent which was on the field of battle, and the most perfect calm reigned
around us. It was a fine spectacle which this army presented, calmly re-
forming its columns in which the Russian cannon had made such wide gaps,
and proceeding to the repose of the bivouac with the security which
conquerors ever feel. The Emperor seemed overcome with fatigue. From
time to time he clasped his hands over his crossed knees, and I heard him
each time repeat, with a kind of convulsive movement, "Moscow! Moscow!"
He sent me several times to see what was going on outside, then rose
himself, and coming up behind me looked out over my shoulder. The noise
made by the sentinel in presenting arms each time warned me of his
approach. After about a quarter of an hour of these silent marches to
and fro, the sentinel advanced and cried, "To arms!" and like a
lightning flash the battalion square was formed around the Emperor's
tent. He rushed out, and then re-entered to take his hat and sword. It
proved to be a false alarm, as a regiment of Saxons returning from a raid
had been mistaken for the enemy.

There was much laughter over this mistake, especially when the raiders
came in sight, some bearing quarters of meat spitted on the ends of their
bayonets, others with half-picked fowls or hams which made the mouth
water. I was standing outside the tent, and shall never forget the first
movement of the sentinel as he gave the cry of alarm. He lowered the
stock of his gun to see if the priming was in place, shook the barrel by
striking it with his fist, then replaced the gun on his arm, saying,