He turned his head rapidly as I came up, and before the aide-de-camp could announce me, called out:—
“Well, sir, what news of the reinforcements?”
“They cannot reach Talavera before to-morrow, sir.”
“Then, before that, we shall not want them. That will do, sir.”
So saying, he resumed his breakfast, and I retired, more than ever struck with the surprising coolness of the man upon whom no disappointment seemed to have the slightest influence.
I had scarcely rejoined my regiment, and was giving an account to my brother officers of my journey, when an aide-de-camp came galloping at full speed down the line, and communicating with the several commanding officers as he passed.
What might be the nature of the orders we could not guess at; for no word to fall in followed, and yet it was evident something of importance was at hand. Upon the hill where the staff were assembled no unusual bustle appeared; and we could see the bay cob of Sir Arthur still being led up and down by the groom, with a dragoon’s mantle thrown over him. The soldiers, overcome by the heat and fatigue of the morning, lay stretched around upon the grass, and everything bespoke a period of rest and refreshment.
“We are going to advance, depend upon it!” said a young officer beside me; “the repulse of this morning has been a smart lesson to the French, and Sir Arthur won’t leave them without impressing it upon them.”
“Hark, what’s that?” cried Baker; “listen!”
As he spoke, a strain of most delicious music came wafted across the plain. It was from the band of a French regiment, and mellowed by the distance, it seemed in the calm stillness of the morning air like something less of earth than heaven. As we listened, the notes swelled upwards yet fuller; and one by one the different bands seemed to join, till at last the whole air seemed full of the rich flood of melody.