A few minutes later they left the house together, and set out on foot for their destination. They met few acquaintances on the way; streets which the day before had been full of officers and ladies were now only lined with the tilt-carts designed for the transport of the wounded, and with baggage-wagons, in perfect order, ready to move off at a moment's notice. Flemish drivers were dozing in the carts; a few sentinels were posted to guard the wagons. The Place Royale, strangely quiet after the confusion of the night, had been cleared of all the litter of equipment. There were more wagons and carts there, with a little crowd of citizens standing about, silently staring at them. Horses were picketed in the Park, but a fair number of people were strolling about there, much as usual, except for the gravity of their countenances and the lowered tones of their voices.
At the Comtesse de Ribaucourt's all was bustle and business. Many of Judith's friends were there, scraping lint and preparing cherry-water.
The feeling of being able to do something which would be of use in this crisis did much to relieve the oppression of everyone's spirits. Dr Brugmans, the Inspector-General of Health, came in at noon for a few moments, and told of the tents to be erected at the Namur and Louvain Gates for the accommodation of the wounded. Various equipments were needed for them, in particular blankets and pillows. Judith willingly undertook the responsibility of procuring all that could be had from her numerous acquaintances in the town, and lost no time in setting out on a house-to-house visitation.
The hours sped by; she was astonished on returning to Madame Ribaucourt's to find that is was already three o'clock; she was conscious neither of fatigue nor of hunger. She sat down at a table to transcribe the list of equipments she had cajoled from her friends, but was arrested in the middle of this task by a sound that made her look up quickly. her pen held in mid-air.
All conversation was stopped short; every head way raised. The sound was heard again, a dull rumble far away in the distance.
Someone said in an urgent voice: "Listen!" Lady Barbara walked over to the window, and stood there her head a little bent, as though to hear more plainly.
The sound was repeated. "It's the guns!" Lady Georgiana Lennox, dropping the lint she was holding.
"No, no, it's only thunder! Everyone says there can be no action until tomorrow!"
"It is the guns," said Barbara. She came away from the window, and quite coolly resumed her work of scraping lint.
The distant cannonading had been heard by others besides themselves. All over the town the greatest consternation was felt. People came running out of their houses to stand listening in the street; crowds flocked to the ramparts; and a number of men set out on horseback in the direction of Waterloo to try to get news.