Here was another question so insidiously conveyed that even a change of feature on my part might have given the answer. A half smile, however, and a slight bow was all my reply; while Soult muttered something between his teeth, which called forth a laugh from those around him.
“You may retire, sir, a little,” said he, dryly, to me.
Not sorry to be freed from the awkwardness of my position, I fell back to the little rising ground behind. Although the rain poured down without ceasing, the rising sun dispelled, in part, the heavy vapor, and by degrees different portions of the wide plain presented themselves to view; and as the dense masses of fog moved slowly along, I could detect, but still faintly, the outline of the large, irregular building which I had heard them call the Château de Goumont, and from whence I could hear the clank of masonry, as, at intervals, the wind bore the sounds towards me. These were the sappers piercing the walls for musketry; and this I could now perceive was looked upon as a position of no small importance. Surrounded by a straggling orchard of aged fruit-trees, the château lay some hundred yards in advance of the British line, commanded by two eminences,—one of which, in the possession of the French, was already occupied by a park of eleven guns; of the other I knew nothing, except the passing glance I had obtained of its position on the map. The Second Corps, under Jerome Bonaparte, with Foy and Kellermann’s Brigade of light artillery, stretched behind us. On the right of these came D’Erlon’s Corps, extending to a small wood, which my companion told me was Frischermont; while Lobau’s Division was stationed to the extreme right towards St. Lambert, to maintain the communication with Grouchy at Wavre, or, if need be, to repel the advance of the Prussians and prevent their junction with the Anglo-Dutch army. The Imperial Guard, with the cavalry, formed the reserve. Such was, in substance, the information given me by my guide, who seemed to expatiate with pleasure over the magnificent array of battle, while he felt a pride in displaying his knowledge of the various divisions and their leaders.
“I see the marshal moving towards the right,” said he; “we had better follow him.”
It was now about eight o’clock as from the extremity of the line I could see a party of horsemen advancing at a sharp canter.
“That must be Ney,” said my companion. “See how rashly he approaches the English lines!”
And so it was. The party in question rode fearlessly down the slope, and did not halt until they reached within about three hundred yards of what appeared a ruined church.
“What is that building yonder?”
“That—that,” replied he, after a moment’s thought,—“that must be La Haye Sainte; and yonder, to the right of it, is the road to Brussels. There, look now! Your people are in motion. See, a column is moving towards the right, and the cavalry are defiling on the other side of the road! I was mistaken, that cannot be Ney. Sacre Dieu! it was the Emperor himself, and here he comes.”
As he spoke, the party galloped forward and pulled up short within a few yards of where we stood.