"Yes."
She was silent, watching them pass through the Place and out of sight. When the music of the pipes was faint in the distance, she said, with a sigh: "Let us go home now, Julian. I shall remember this night as long as I live. I think."
Chapter Eighteen
By eight o'clock in the morning the last of the regiments had marched out of Brussels. A little later the Duke followed, accompanied by his staff, and a profound silence descended on the city. Judith had fallen asleep some hours before, with the sound of the trumpets and the tread of many feet in her ears. When she awoke the morning was considerably advanced. Her first feeling was of surprise to find everything quiet, for the shouting and the drumming and the bugle-calls had seemed to run through her dreams. She got up, and looked out between the blinds upon a sun-baked street. A cat curled on the steps of a house opposite was the only living thing in sight. No uniforms swaggered down the street, no ladies in muslins and chip hats floated along to pay their morning calls or to promenade in the Park.
She dressed, and went down to the salon on the first floor. Worth had gone out, but he came in presently with the newspapers. It was being reported in the cafes that the Duke had ridden out in high spirits, saying that Blucher would most likely have settled the business himself by that time and that he would probably be back in Brussels for dinner. The general opinion seemed to be that no action would be fought that day. It was thought that the bulk of the British troops could not be brought up in time. Judith did not know whether to be glad or sorry; the suspense would be as hard to bear as the sound of cannon, she thought.
"Quite a number of people are leaving for Antwerp." Worth observed. "Lady Fitzroy has gone, and I met D. Lancey just before he went off to join the Army, who told me that he had prevailed upon that poor young wife of his to go, too." He paused, but she made no comment. He smiled. "Well, Judith?"
"You would not wish to go if I were not here."
"Very true, but that can hardly be said to have a bearing on the case."
"I don't want to run away, if you think it would not be wrong in me to stay. I hope you don't mean to talk to me of defeat, for I won't listen if you do."
"Like you, I'm of a sanguine disposition. But young Julian's nurse beat us both in that respect. She has taken him out into the Park for an airing, and the only emotion roused in her breast by all the racket that went on during the night was a strong indignation at having a child's rest disturbed."