The heavy mist of the morning, darkened by the lowering clouds which almost rested on the earth, prevented our seeing above a hundred yards before us; but the hazy light of the watch-fires showed me extent of the French position, as it stretched away along the ridge towards the Halle road. We rode forward at a trot, but in the deep clayey soil we sank at each moment to our horses’ fetlocks. I turned my head as I heard the tramp and splash of horsemen behind, and perceived that I was followed by two dragoons, who, with their carbines on the rest, kept their eyes steadily upon me to prevent any chance of escape. In a slight hollow of the ground before us stood a number of horsemen, who conversed together in a low tone as we came up.
“There, that is the marshal,” said my companion, in a whisper, as we joined the party.
“Yes, Monsieur le Duc,” said an engineer colonel, who stood beside Soult’s horse with a colored plan in his hand,—“yes, that is the Château de Goumont, yonder. It is, as you perceive, completely covered by the rising ground marked here. They will doubtless place a strong artillery force in this quarter.”
“Ah, who is this?” said the marshal, turning his eyes suddenly upon me, and then casting a look of displeasure around him, lest I should have overheard any portion of their conversation. “You are deficient in cavalry, it would appear, sir,” said he to me.
“You must feel, Monsieur le Duc,” said I, calmly, “how impossible it is for me, as a man of honor and a soldier, to afford you any information as to the army I belong to.”
“I do not see that, sir. You are a prisoner in our hands; your treatment, your fortune, your very life depends on us. Besides, sir, when French officers fall into the power of your people, I have heard they meet with no very ceremonious treatment.”
“Those who say so, say falsely,” said I, “and wrong both your countrymen and mine. In any case—”
“The Guards are an untried force in your service,” said he, with a mixture of inquiry and assertion.
I replied not a word.
“You must see, sir,” continued he, “that all the chances are against you. The Prussians beaten, the Dutch discouraged, the Belgians only waiting for victory to incline to our standard, to desert your ranks and pass over to ours; while your troops, scarcely forty thousand,—nay, I might say, not more than thirty-five thousand. Is it not so?”