"My braves," said he, unsheathing his sword, and pointing to the smiling plains beyond, "my braves, this is France: the enemy's country, which we are here to conquer!"
The troops responded with a yell that betokened their readiness for the bloody work.
CHAPTER II.
THE RAVENS.
The men were allowed an hour's rest to feed their horses and prepare their dinners. Fires were lighted, vivandieres went hither and thither, wishing that they could multiply themselves to answer the demands of the hungry soldiers. Here and there were picturesque groups of men reclining under the trees, some chatting, some smoking, others singing songs of home.
This bivouac was a pleasant scene to look upon; but its peace was like the stillness that precedes a storm. A few hours might change these light-hearted human beings into mangled corpses, and dye this velvet sward with human blood.
Eugene had dismounted, and, accompanied by one of his staff- officers, mingled with the merry crowd. Everywhere he was greeted with demonstrations of affection and contemplated with unmistakable admiration. Sometimes he paused awhile to chat with the soldiers, of their families at home; often accepting the bread they offered, and tasting of the soup that was being distributed by the vivandieres.
Now and then a gruff voice was heard calling out to the "little Capuchin," as the soldiers were accustomed to designate Eugene, through fondness. At such times, he smiled, nodded, and, when his officers would have chided the men for their familiarity, besought them not to reprove them for a jest so harmless.
"Why do you look so melancholy, lieutenant?" asked he of a young officer, who, apart from his comrades, was leaning against a tree, gazing intently in the distance.
The officer appeared to waken from a fit of abstraction, for he gave a slight start, and removed his cap.