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INFAMOUS
<^RMY
Continuing Our Fascinating Serial
By . . .
Georgette
HEYER
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Colonel Audley
matched out his sword
when he saw the cavalry bear-
ing down upon him.
THE STORY SO FAR:
BRUSSELS, which on the eve of Waterloo had been a city
of gay functions and centre of English society, suddenly
becomes one of panic when, on June 15, at the DUCHESS
OF RICHMOND'S ball, news of war is announced. Prominent in
the brilliant assemblage is the EARL OF WORTH, Army General,
his wife JUDITH, the Countess, and LADY BARBARA CHILDE,
famous for her wit and beauty.
Among the first to leave for the front is COLONEL CHARLES
AUDLEY, aide-de-camp to the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, and ex-
fiance of Lady Barbara, who in a fit of pique broke off their
engagement.
Lady Barbara is inconsolable because of Charles' hasty de-
parture—without farewell, and when her brother and his wife, LORD
and LADY VIDAL, leave Brussels, she calls on the Earl, Audley's
brother, who persuades her to make his home her headquarters. She
agrees, and Judith and she are the first to engage in relief work.
Meanwhile there is much speculation regarding tidings at the
front and a rumor of Wellington's retreat precipitates the departure
of thousands of civilians to Antwerp.
At Waterloo there is a relentless march of the French columns
towards the Allied lines, but the great infantry attack on the Allied
left-centre fails.
The losses on the Allied side are enormous. Colonel Audley is
slightly wounded, but continues his duties.
Meanwhile in Brussels, LUCY DEVENISH, a wealthy heiress,
has surprised the Worths and Lady Barbara, by confessing she has
secretly married LORD GEORGE ALASTAIR, Barbara's brother.
NOW READ ON
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THE Duke was stand-
ing at Alten's right
flank, on the highest
part of the position.
The time was a
little after three
o'clock, and Colonel
Audley rejoined his
lordship just as the
sadly diminished
Household Brigade
was returning from a charge led by
Uxbridge against a French force once
more attacking the farm of La Haye
Sainte.
Baring had been reinforced by two
companies after the overthrow of
D'Erlon's columns, and the little gar-
rison, in spite of having lost posses-
sion of the orchard and garden, was
stoutly defending the buildings. The
second attack, which was not very
rigorously pressed, had been repulsed,
and the charge of the Household
Cavalry seemed to have succeeded.
The French infantry had drawn off
again, and except for the continued
but not very severe cannonade
against the whole Allied front, and
the bitter fight about Hougoumont,
a lull had fallen on the battle. Colonel
Audley seized the opportunity to ride
to the rear, where, on the chaussee
a little below Mont St. Jean, his
groom was stationed with his remain-
ing horses. He fell in with Gordon
on the way, and learned from him
that the head of Bulow's corps was
reported to have reached St. Lam-
bert, five miles to the east of La
Belle Alliance.
The gradual absorption of Byng's
entire brigade in the defence of
Hougoumont made lt imperative to
reinforce the right of the line.
Shortly before four o'clock, an Aide
de-camp was sent off to bring up
some young Brunswick troops, held
In reserve, to fill the gap. This had
hardly been accomplished when the
firing on the Allied right centre sud-
denly became so violent that after
a very few minutes of lt the Duke
withdrew his troops further back
from the crest of the position. Old
soldiers with a score of battles be
hind them admitted, as they lay flat
on their stomachs under the rain of
grape, round-shot, and spherical
case, that they had never experi-
enced such a cannonading. Occa-
sionally a greater explosion than the
rest would roar above the din as an
ammunition waggon was struck, and
a column of smoke would rise vertic-
ally in the air, spreading like an
umbrella.
Everyone knew that the cannon-
ade was the prelude to an attack, but
when those on the high ground on
the right of the Charleroi road saw
forming across the valley on the
ridge of La Belle Alliance, not in-
fantry divisions, but huge masses of
cavalry, they were thunderstruck. It
soon became evident that the attack
was going to be directed against the
right centre of the Allied line, for
the squadrons, which had first ap-
peared on the1 east of the Charleroi
road, crossed it, obliquing to their
left, and advanced slowly but in
beautiful order through the fields of
deep corn that lay between the ad-
vance posts of Hougoumont and La
Haye Sainte.
TWENTY - POUR
squadrons of Milhaud's Cuirassiers
led the cavalcade in first line, their
burnished breast-plates and helmets
making them look like a wall of
steel. They were supported by
nineteen squadrons of the Light
Cavalry of the Guard; red Lancers
with high white plumes, gaudy
horse-trappings, and fluttering pen-
nons, In second line; and, In
third line, the Chasseurs a Cheval In
green dolmans embroidered richly
with gold, black bearskin shakos on
their heads, and fur-trimmed
pelisses swinging from their shoul-
ders.
lt was a formidable array, terrify-
ing to inexperienced troops, but re-
garded by the Staff officers who
watched its assembly with a good
deal of criticism.
'Good heavens, this is too pre-
mature!" Lord Fitzroy exclaimed.
"They cannot mean to attack un-
shaken infantry with cavalry alone 1"
"Perhaps Ney's gone mad," sug-
gested Canning hopefully. "What
the devil has he done with his in-
fantry columns?"
"I fancy the Prussians must be at
something on the left," said the
Duke, overhearing this interchange.
"I shall believe in the Prussians
when I see them," remarked Can-
ning to Colonel Audley.
There was no opportunity for fur-
ther speculation. Orders were sent
to the brigade to prepare to with-
stand cavalry attacks; Aides-de
camp dashed off through the hail
of shot; and the troops lying on the
ground beside their arms were
quickly formed into two lines of
squares, placed chequer-wise behind
the crest of the position. In sup-
port, all the available cavalry was
mustered; the two British Heavy
Brigades, now reduced to a few
squadrons, under the command of
Lord Edward Somerset; Trip's Cara-
biniers; seven squadrons of Van
Merlen's Light Cavalry; a regiment
of Brunswick Hussars; Colonel
Arendtschlldt's brigade of the
Legion; and a part of Dornberg 's
and Grant's brigades.
The Duke, who seemed to be
everywhere at once, generally rid-
ing far ahead of the cortege that
still galloped devotedly after him,
was pale and abstracted, but gave
no other sign of anxiety than the
frequent sliding in and out of its
socket of his telescope. If he saw
a square wavering, he threw himself
into it, regardless of all entreaties
not to risk his life, and rallied it
by the very fact of his presence.
"Never mind! Well win this
battle yet!" he said, and his men
believed him, and breathed more
freely when they caught a glimpse
of that low .cocked-hat, and the
cold eyes and bony nose beneath
it. They did not love him, for he
Illustrated by
WYNNE W. DAVIES
did not love them, but there wu
not a man serving under him woo
had not complete confidence ta
him.
"Hard pounding, this, gentlemen,"
he said, when the cannonade was at
its fiercest. "Let's see who will
pound the longest."
When the foreign diplomats re-
monstrated with him, he said
bluntly: "My Army and I know
each other exactly, gentlemen. The
men will do for me what they will
do for no one else."
Between four and five o'clock,
convinced at last that no flanking
attack was contemplated on his
right, the Duke sent to order Baron
Chasse up from Braine L'Alleud.
STAFF officers
were looking anxious r artillery men,
seeing little but masses of enemy
cavalry swarming all over the
position, waited in momentary ex-
pectation of receiving the order
to retreat. The heat on the plateau
was fast becoming unbearable.
Reserves brought up from the rear
felt themselves to be marching
into a gigantic oven, and young
soldiers, hearing for the first time
the peculiar hum that filled the
air, stared about them fearfully
through the smoke, flinching as the
shots hissed past their heads, and
asking nervously: "What makes that
humming noise like bees?"
Colonel Audley, riding back from
an errand to the right wing, had
his second horse killed under him
close to a troop of Horse Artillery,
drawn up in the interval between
two Brunswick squares, in a slight
hollow below the brow of the posi-
tion, north of Hougoumont. He
sprang clear, but heard a voice e*i
out: "Hi! Don't mask my gu»
Anything I can do for you, sir1?"
"You can give me a horse!" re-
plied the Colonel trying to re-
cover his breath. He looked Into »
lean, humorous face, shaded by the
jut of a black, crested helmet, »na
asked: "Who are you?"
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ANInfamousARMY

Continued from Page 6

r

V^OLONEL DICK-

SON'S G. Troop, under the com-
mand of Captain Mercer-at your

service!"

"Oh yes! I know." The Colonel's
eyes travelled past him to a verit-
able bank of dead Cuirassiers and
horses, not twenty paces in front
of his guns. He gave an awed
whistle. "Good Heavens!"

"Yes, we're having pretty hot
work of it here," replied Mercer. A
shell came whizzing over the crest,
and fell in the mud not far from his
troop, and lay there, its fuse spit-
ting and hissing. He broke off to
admonish his men, some of whom
had flung themselves down on the
ground. The shell burst at last,
without, however, doing much dam-
age; and the nonchalant Captain
turned back to Colonel Audley, re-
suming, as though only a minor
Interruption had occurred: "
pretty hot work of it here. We wait
till those steel-clad gentry come
over the rise, and then we give 'em
a dose of round-shot with a case
over it. Terrible effect it has. I've
seen a whole front rank come down
from the effects of the case."

"Do you mean that you stand by
your guns throughout?"

"Take a look at those squares,
sir," recommended Mercer, jerking
his head towards the Brunswickers,
who were lying on the ground to
right and left of his rear. "You
can't, at the moment, but if you care
to wait you'll see them form squares,
huddled together like sheep. If we
scuttled for safety among them,
they'd break and run. They're only
children-not one above eighteen,
1*11 swear. Gives 'em confidence to
see us here."

"You're a brave man!" said the
Colonel, taking the bridle of the
trooper, which a driver had led up.

"Oh, we don't give a button for
the cavalry!" replied Mercer. "The
worst is this Infernal cannonading.
It plays the devil with us. We've
been pestered by skirmishers, too,
which is a nuisance. Only way I
can stop my fellows wasting their
charges on them is to parade up
and down the bank ta front of my
guns. That's nervous work, if you

like!"

"I imagine lt might be," said the
Colonel, with a grin. "Don't get
your Troop cut up too much, or his
lordship wont be pleased."

"The artillery won't get any of
the credit for this day's work in any
case, so what's the odds?" Mercer
replied. "Fraser knows what we're

about. He was here a short time
ago, very much upset from burying
poor Ramsay."

The Colonel had one foot In,the
stirrup, but he paused, and said
sharply: "Is Ramsay dead?"

"Fraser burled him on a field not
half an hour ago. Bolton's gone
too, I believe. Was Norman Ram-
say a friend of yours, sir? Pride
of our Service, you know."

"Tes," replied Audley curtly, and
hoisted himself Into the saddle,
wincing a little from the pain of his
wounded thigh. "I must push on
before your steel-clad gentry come
up again. Good luck to you!"

"The same to you, slr, and you'd
better hurry. Cannonade's slacken-

ing."

The pause following the third on-
set of the cavalry was of longer
duration than those which had pre-

ceded lt.

When the squadrons came over
the crest again, Colonel Audley
was nearly caught among them. He
was mounted on his last horse, the
Earl of Worth's Rufus, and owed
his preservation to the hunter's

pace.

H E snatched out

his sword when he saw the cavalry
bearing down upon him, threw off
a lance by his right side, and, clap-
ping his spurs into Rufus's flanks,
galloped for his life. One of Malt
land's squares opened Its files to
receive him, and he rode Into the
middle of lt and the files closed
behind him.

"Hallo, Audley!" drawled a tall
major, who was having sticking
plaster put on a sabre-cut. "That
was a near thing, wasn't it?"

"Too near for my taste!" replied
Audley, sliding out of the saddle, and
looping Rufus's bridle over his
atm. He eased his wounded leg,
with a grimace. "Seen anything of
the Duke, Stuart?"

"Not quite lately. He went off
towards the Brunswickers, I think.
Some of those fellows seem to revel
tn this sort of thing."

"The younger ones don't like it."
The surgeon, having finished his
work on the major's arm, bustled
away, and the major, drawing his
tunic on again, said, with a grave
look: "What do you make of it?"

Audley returned the look. "Pretty

black."

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AN Infamous ARMY

Continued from Page 16

T

_?_ HE major nod-

ded. He buttoned up his coat and
said: "We don't see much of it
here, you know. Nothing but smoke
and this cavalry. One of the ar-
tillery fellows who took cover in our
square during the last charge said
he thought it was all over with us!"

"Not itl We shall win through 1"
"Oh, not a doubt! But hang me
if ever I saw anything like this
cavalry affair. Look at them, rid-
ing round and round. Makes you
feel giddy to watch them." He
glanced round the square, and
sighed.

The inside of the square was like
a hospital, with wounded men lying
all over the ground among the
ammunition boxes, and the debris
of accoutrements.

Almost at Audley's feet, a boy lay
in a sticky pool of his own blood.
He looked very young; there was a
faint smile on his dead lips, and one
hand lay palm upwards on the
ground, the fingers curling inwards
in an oddly pathetic gesture. Aud-
ley was looking down at him, when
he heard his name feebly called. He
turned his head, and saw Lord
Harry Alastair not far from him,
lying on the ground, propped up by
knapsacks.

He stepped over the dead boy at
his feet, and went to Harry, and
dropped on his knee beside him.
"Harry! Are you badly hurt?"

"I don't know. I don't think I
can be," Harry replied, with the
ghost of a smile. "Only I don't
seem able to move my legs. As a
matter of fact, I can't feel anything
below my waist."

The colonel had seen death too
many times not to recognise it now
in Harry's drawn face and clouding
eyes. He - took one of the boy's
hands and held it, saying gently:
"That's famous. We must get you
to the rear as soon as these hordes
of cavalry have drawn off."

"I'm so tired!" Harry said, with a
long sigh. "Is George safe?"

"I hope so. I don't really know,

old fellow."

"Give him my love, if you see him."
He closed his eyes, but opened them
again after a minute or two, and
said: "It's awful, isn't it?"

"Yes. The worst flgnt I ever was
in."

"Well, I'm glad I was m it any-
way. To tell you the truth, I
haven't liked it as much as I thought
I should. It's seeing one's friends
go, one after the other, and being so
frightened oneself."

"I know."

The colonel bent over Lord Harry.
"I must go, Harry."

"Must you?" Harry's voice was
growing fainter. "I wish you could

stay. I don't feel quite the thing,
you know."

"I can't stay. Heaven knows I
would, but I must get back to the

Duke."

"Of course. I was forgetting. I
shall see you later. I daresay."

"Yes, later," the colonel said, a
little unsteadily. "Good-bye, old
fellow!" He pressed Harry's hand,
laid it gently down, and rose to his
feet. His horse stood waiting, snort-
ing uneasily. He mounted, saluted
Harry, who raised a wavering hand
in return, and rode away to find the

Duke.

T

lH E c a vairy

attacks were abating at last, but
under cover of them renewed
attempts were being made on La
Haye Sainte. Again and again
Major Baring sent to his brigade
demanding more ammunition. One
waggon never reached the farm;
another was found to contain car-
tridges belonging to the Baker rifles
used by the 95th, which were of the
wrong calibre for the German rifles.

Colonel Audley arrived at the
centre, immediately west of the
Charleroi chaussee, in time to wit-
ness Uxbridge leading the gallant
remnant of the Household Brigade
against a column of French in-
fantry, covered by cavalry, advan-
cing upon the farm. Their num-
bers were so diminished that they
could make little impression, and

were forced to retire.

La Haye Sainte had fallen, and
the effects of its loss were at
once felt. Quiot, occupying it in
force, brought up his guns, and
opened a crippling fire upon the
Allied centre. To the east
the smoke hung so thickly that al-
though not a hundred yards lay
between them the men of the 95th,
reduced to a single line of skir-
mishers, could only see by the flash
of their pieces where the French
gunners were situated. Their senior
officers had all been carried off the
field, and the command of the bat-
talion had fallen upon a captain.
Staff Officers from the various
brigades galloped up from all sides
to beg the Duke for orders. "There
are no orders," he said. "My only
plan is to stand my ground here to

the last man."

Though his Staff fell about him,
he continued to ride up and down
his lines, rallying failing troops, re-
straining men who, maddened by
the rain of deadly shot, could hardly
be kept from launching themselves
through the smoke in a desperate
charge against their persecutors.
"Wait a little longer, my lads: you
shall have at them presently," he
promised.

At seven o'clock things looked
very serious along the Allied front.
To the west, only some Prussian
cavalry had arrived to guard the

left flank.

The Duke remained calm, but kept
looking at his watch. Once he said:
"It's night, or Blucher," but for
the most part he was silent. An
Aide-de-camp rode up to him with
a message from his General that
his men were being mowed down by
the artillery Are, and must be re-
inforced. "It is impossible," he re-
plied. "Will they stand?"

"Yes, my lord, till they perish!"
"Then tell them that I will stand
with them, till the last man."

Turmoil and confusion, made
worse by the smoke that hung
heavily over the centre, and the
debris that littered the ground from
end to end of the line, seemed to
reign everywhere. Staff officers,
carrying messages to brigades, asked
mechanically: "Who commands
here?" The Prince of Orange had
been taken away by March; three
Generals had been killed; Ave others
carried off the field, too badly
wounded to remain; the Adjutant
General and the Quartermaster
General had both had to retire. Of
the Duke's personal staff. Canning
was dead; Gordon dying In the inn
at Waterloo; and Lord Fitzroy,
struck in his right arm while stand-
ing with his horse almost touching
the Duke's, had left the field In
Alava's care. Those that were left
had passed beyond feeling. It was
no longer a matter for surprise or
grief to hear of a friend's death:
the only surprise was to find anyone
still left alive on that reeking plain.
Horse after horse had been shot
under them; sooner or later they
would probably join the ranks of the
slain: meanwhile, there were still
orders to carry, and they forced

their exhausted mounts through the
carnage, indifferent to the heaps of
fallen redcoats sprawling under
their feet, themselves numb with
fatigue, their minds focused upon
one object only: to get the message
they carried through to its des-
tination.

Just before seven o'clock, a de-
serting Colonel of Cuirassiers came
galloping up to the 52nd Regiment,
shouting: "Vive le Roi!" He reached
Sir John Colborne, and gasped out:
"Napoleon est la avec les Gardes!
Voila l'attaque qui se fait!"

The warning was unnecessary,
for it had been apparent for some
minutes that the French were mus-
tering for a grand attack all along
the front

Colonel Audley was sent on his
last errand just after seven. He
was mounted on a trooper, and the
strained and twisted strapping
round his thigh was soaked with
blood. He was almost unrecognis-

able for the smoke that had black-,
ened his face, and was feeling oddly
light-headed from the loss of blood

he had suffered. He vas also very
tired, for he had been in the saddle
almost continually since the night of
June 15. His mind, ordinarily sen-
sitive to impression, accepted with-
out revulsion the message of his
eyes. Death and mutilation had
become so common that he who
loved horses could look with in-
difference upon a poor brute with
the lower half of Its head blown
away, or a trooper, with its fore-
legs shot off at the knees, raising
itself on its stumps, and neighing
its sad appeal for help. He had
seen a friend die in agony, and had
wept over him, but all that was
long past. He no longer ducked
when ' he heard the shots singing
past his head; when his trooper
shied away, snorting in terror, from
a bursting shell, ne cursed it. But
there was no sense in courting death
unnecessarily; he struck north-
wards, and rode by all that was
left of the two heavy brigades. An
officer in the rags of a Life Guards-
man's uniform, his helmet gone,
and a blood-stained bandage tied
round his head, rode forward, and
hailed him.

"Audley I Audley r"

He recognised Lord George Alas-
tair under a mask of mud, and sweat,
and blood stains, and drew rein.
"HalloI" he said. "So you're alive
still?"

"Oh, Tm well enough! Do you
know how it has gone with Harry?"

"Dead," replied the Colonel.

George's eyelids flickered; under
the dirt and the blood his face
whitened. "Thanks. That's all I
wanted to know. You saw him?"

"Hours ago. He was dying then
in one of Maitland'! squares. He
sent you his love."

George saluted, wheeled his horse,
and rode back to his squadron.

The Colonel pushed on to the
chaussee. His horse slithered clum-
sily down the bank on to it; he
held lt together, and rode across
the pave to the opposite bank and
scrambled up, emerging upon the
desolation of the slope behind Pic
ton's division, and plunging once
more Into the region of shot and
shell bursts.

He neither saw nor heard the shell

that struck him. His horse came
crashing down; he was conscious ol
having been hit; blood was stream-
ing down his left arm, which lay
useless on the ground beside him,
but there was as yet no feeling in
the shattered elbow-joint. Hi«
left side hurt him a little; he
moved his right hand to it, and
found his coat torn, and his shirt
sticky with blood. He supposed
vaguely that since he seemed to
be alive this must be only a flesh
wound. He desired nothing better
than to He where he had fallen, but
he mastered himself, for he had a
message to deliver, and struggled to

his knees.

The sound of horses' hoofs gal
loping towards him made him lift
his head. And Adjutant in the blue
uniform and orange facings of the
5th National Militia dismounted be-
side him, and said In English: "Ad-
jutant to Count Bylandt, sir! i'm
directed by General Perponcher to
Parbleu; it is you, then!"

Colonel Audley looked up Into a
handsome, dark face bent over him,
and said weakly: "Hallo, Lavisse!
Get me a horse, there's a good fel-
low!"

"A horse!" exclaimed Lavisse,
going down on one knee and support,
lng the Colonel in his arms. "You
need a surgeon, my friend! Be tran-
quil: my General sends to bear you
off the field." He gave a bitter
laugh, and added : "That is what my
brigade exists for-to succor you
English wounded!"

"Did you succeed In rallying your
fellows?" asked the Colonel.

"Some, not all. Do not disturb
yourself, my rival! You have all the
honors of this day's encounter. My
honor ls in the dust"

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AN Infamous ARMY

Continued from Page 40

"O

Vf H, don't talk
such theatrical rubbish!" said the
Colonel irritably. He fumbled with
his right hand in his sash and drew
forth a folded and crumpled mes-
sage. 'This has to go to General
Best. See that it gets to him, will
you-or if he's been killed, to his
next in command."

A couple of orderlies and a doctor
had come up from the rear. Lavisse
gave the Colonel into their charge,
and said with a twisted smile: "You
trust your precious message to me,
my Colonel?"

"Be a good fellow, and don't
waste time talking about itt" begged
the Colonel.

He was carried off the field as the
attack upon the whole Allied line
began. "

The sun, which all day had been
trying to penetrate the clouds, broke
through as the attack commenced.
Its setting rays bathed the columns
of the Imperial Guard In a fiery
radiance. Rank upon rank of
veterans who had borne the Eagles
victorious through a dozen fights ad-
vanced to the beat of drums, with
bayonets turned to blood-red by the
sun's last glow, across the plain into
the smoke and heat of the battle.

Those of the batteries on the Allied
front which were still in action met
the advance with a fire which threw
the leading ranks into considerable
disorder. Many of the British bat-
teries, however, were useless. Some
had been abandoned owing to lack
of ammunition; several guns stood
with muzzles bent down, or touch
holes melted from the excessive
heat; and more than one troop, its
gunners either killed, or too ex-
hausted to run the guns up after
each recoil, had its guns In a con-
fused heap, the trails crossing each
other almost on top of the limbers
and the ammunition-waggons.

At ninety paces, the brass eight
pounders between the advancing
battalions opened fire upon Malt
land's brigade. They were answered
by Krahmer de Bichin's Dutch bat-
tery, but though the grape-shot tore
through the ranks of the Guards the
Duke withheld the order to open
musketry-fire. Not a man in the
British line was visible to the ad

vanclng columns until they halted
twenty paces from the crest to
deploy.

"Now, Maitland! Now's your
time!" the Duke said at last, and
called out in his deep, ringing voice:
"Stand up, Guards!"

The Guards leaped to their feet.
The crest, which had seemed de-
serted, was suddenly alive with men,
scarlet coats standing in line four
deep, with muskets at the present.
Almost at the point of crossing
bayonets they fired volley after
volley into the Grenadiers. The
Grenadiers, in column, had only
two hundred muskets able to fire
against the fifteen hundred of Hal
kett's and Maitland's brigades, de-
ployed in line before them. They
tried to deploy, but were thrown
into confusion by a fire no infantry

could withstand.

On Maitland's left, General Chasse
had brought up Detmer's brigade of
Dutch-Belgians in perfect order.
When the word to charge was given,
and the sound of the three British
cheers was heard as the Guards
surged forward, the Dutch came up
at the double, and, with a roar of
"Oranje boven!" drove the French
from the crest in their front.

The Guards, scattering the Grena-
diers before them, advanced until
their flank was threatened by the
second attacking column of Chas-
seurs. The recall was sounded, and
the order was given to face about
and retire. In the din of clashing
arms, crackling musketry, groans,
cheers, and trumpet-calls, the order
was misunderstood. As the Guards
regained the crest, an alarm of cav-
alry was raised. Someone shrieked:
"Square, square, form square!" and
the two battalions, trying to obey the
order, became intermingled. A
dangerous confusion seemed about
to spread panic through the ranks,
but it was checked in a very few
moments. The* order to: "Halt!
Front!-Form up!" rang out; 'the
Guards obeyed as one man, formed
again four-deep, and told off in
companies of forty

XN the immediate

rear of Maitland's and Halkett's
brigades, D'Aubreme's Dutch-Bel-
gians, formed in three squares,
appalled by the slaughter in their
front, began to retreat precipitately
upon Vandeleur's squadrons. The
Dragoons closed their ranks until
their horses stood shoulder to shoul-
der; Vandeleur galloped forward to
try to stem the rout; and an Aide
de-camp went flying to the Duke on
a foaming horse, gasping out that
the Dutch would not stand, and

could not be held.

"That's all right," answered his
lordship coolly. "Tell them the
French are retiring!"

Far in advance of the charging
Allied line, Colborné, having crossed
the ground between Hougoumont
and La Haye Sainte, had reached
the chaussee, and passed it, left
shouldering his regiment forward to
ascend the slope towards La Belle

Alliance.

To the right, Vivian had ad-
vanced his brigade, placing himself
at the head of the 18th Hussars.
"Eighteenth! You will, I know, fol-
low me!" he said, and was answered
by one of his sergeant-majors: "Ay,
General! to hell, if you'll lead us!"

Taking up his position on the
flank of the leading half-squadron,
holding his reins In his injured
right hand, which, though it still
reposed in a sling, was just capable
of grasping them, he led the whole
.brigade forward at the trot. As the
Hussars cleared the front on Mait-
land's right, the Guards and Van-
deleur's Light Dragoons cheered
them on, and they charged down
on to the plain, sweeping the French
up in their advance past the eastern
hedge of Hougoumont towards the
chaussee at La Belle Alliance.

Through the dense smoke lying
over the ground the Duke galloped
down the line. When the Rifle-
men saw him, they sent up a cheer,
but he called out: "No cheering, my
lads, but forward, and complete youl
victory!" and rode on, through th«
smother, out into the sea of dead, tc
where Adam's brigade was halted
on the ridge of La Belle Alliance,
a little way from where som«
French battalions had managed tc

re-form.

The sun was sinking fast; in th«
gathering dusk musket-balls wen
hissing in every direction. Ux-
bridge, who had come scathelesi

through the day, was hit In the knee
by a shot passing over Copenhagen's
withers, and sang out: "I've got it

at last!"

"Have you?" said his lordship,
too intent on the operations ot his
troops to pay much heed.

To the south-east of La Belle
Alliance, the Prussians, driving the
Young Guard out of Plancenoit, were

advancing on the chaussee, to con-
verge there with the Allied troops,
Bulow's infantry were singing the
Lutheran hymn, "Now Thank: We
All Our God," but as the columns
came abreast of the British Guards,
halted by the road, the hymn ceased
abruptly. The band struck up "God
Save the King," and as the Prus-

sians marched past, they saluted.

It was past nine o'clock, when, in
the darkness, south of La Belle Al-
liance, the Duke met Prince Blucher.

The Prince, beside himself with
exultation, carried beyond coherent
speech by his admiration for the
gallantry of the British troops, and
for the generalship of his friend
and ally, could find only one thing
to say as he embraced the Duke
ruthlessly on both cheeks: "I stink
of garlic!"

When his first transports of Joy
were a little abated, he offered to
take on the pursuit of the French
through the night. The Duke's bat-
tered forces, dog-tired, terribly
diminished in numbers, were or-
dered to bivouac where they stood,
on the ground occupied all day by
the French; and the Duke, accom-
panied by a mere skeleton of the
brilliant cortege which had goa«
with him into the field that morn-
ing, rode back in clouded moonlight
to his headquarters.

IZARON MUFF.

LING, drawing abreast of him, said:
"The Field Marshal will call thia
battle Belle-Alliance, sir."

His lordship returned no answer.
The Baron, casting a shrewd glanos
at his bony profile, with its frosty
eye and pursed mouth, realised that
he had no intention of calling th«
battle by that name. It was hit
lordship's custom to name his vic-
tories after the village or town when»
he had slept the night before them.
The Marshal Prince might call tba
battle what he liked, but his lord-
ship would head his despatch ts
Earl Bathurst: "Waterloo."

For those in Brussels the day had
been one of increasing anxiety.
Contrary to expectations, no firing
was heard, the wind blowing steadily
from the north-west. The Dukeï
despatch to Sir Charles Stuart,
written from Waterloo in the small
hours, reached him at seven o'clock,
and shortly afterwards Baron ran
der Capellán, the Secretary of State,
issued a reassuring proclamation.
After that no news of any kind wai
received in the town for many

hours.

Please turn to Page 44

AN Infamous ARMY

Continued from Page 42

BoTH Judith and

Barbara had slept the nigth through
in utter exhaustion, but neither in
the morning looked as though she
were refreshed by this deep slum-
ber. Except for discussing in a
desultory manner the extraordin-
ary revelation Lucy Devenish had
made on the previous evening,
they did not talk much. Once
Judith said: "If you knew the
comfort it is to me to have you
with me!" but Barbara merely
smiled rather mockingly, and shook
her head.

In the privacy of their own bed-
room, Judith had remarked impul-
sively to Worth: "I am out of all
conceit with myself! I have been
deceived alike in Lucy and in Bar-

bara!"

"You might certainly be forgiven
for having been deceived in Lucy,"
Worth replied. "I imagine no one
could have suspected such a melo-
dramatic story to lie behind that
demure appearance."

"No, indeed! I was never more
shocked in my life. Bab says George
will make her a very bad husband,

and If it were not unchristian I '
should be much inclined to say
that she will have nothing but her
just deserts. But Bab! I could
not have believed that she had such
strength of character, such real
goodness of heart! Have not you
been surprised?"

"No," he replied. "I should have
been very much surprised had she
not, in this crisis, behaved precisely
as she has done. My opinion of
her remains unchanged."

They had scarcely got up from
the breakfast table, a little later,
when they received a morning call
from Mr. and Mrs. Fisher.

"She has confessed, then!" Judith
exclaimed when the visitors' cards
were brought to her.

"In floods of tears, I'd lay my last
guinea!" said Barbara.

"It is not to be wondered at if she
did weep!"

"I abominate weeping females. Do

you wish for my support at this

interview?"

"Oh, yes, they will certainly desire
to see you."

"Very well, out I'll be hanged if
IH be held accountable for George's

sins."

It was as Judith had supposed.
Lucy had confessed the whole to her
aunt and uncle. They were pro-
foundly shocked, and Mr. Fisher
seemed almost bewildered. He said
that he could not understand how
such a thing could have come to
pass, and so far from blaming Bar

bara for her brother's conduct,
several times apologised to her for

it.

The Fishers soon took their leave,
and the rest of the morning was
spent by Judith and Barbara in ren-
dering all the assistance In their
power to those nursing the wounded
in the tent by the Namur Gate. Re-
turning together just before four
o'clock, they found visitors with
Worth in the salon, and walked in
to discover these to be none other
than the Duke and Duchess of Avon,
who had arrived in Brussels scarcely
an hour previously.

Barbara stood on the threshold,
staring at them. "What the devil
-? Grandmama, how the deuce
do you come to be here?"

The Duke, a tall man with grizzled
hair and fiery dark eyes, said: "Don't
talk to your grandmother like that!
What's this story I hear about that
worthless brother of yours?"

Barbara bent to kiss her grand-
mother, a rather stout lady, with a
straight back, and an air of unshak-
able imperturbability: "Dear love!
Did you come for my sake?"

"No, I came because your grand"
father would do so. But this ls very
surprising, this news of George's
marriage. Tell me, shall I like his

wife?"

"You'll have nothing to do with
her!" snapped his grace. "Upon my
word, I'm singularly blessed in my
grandchildren! One ls such a
miserable poltroon that he takes to
his heels the instant he hears a gun
fired; another makes herself the talk
of the town; and a third marries a
Cit's daughter. You may as well
tell me what folly Harry has com-
mitted, and be done with it. I wash
my hands of the pack of you! There
is no understanding how I came to
have such a set of grandchildren."

"Vidal's behaviour is certainly very
bad," agreed the Duchess. "But I
find nothing remarkable about
George's and Bab's conduct, Dominic.
Only I'm sorry George should have
married in such a hole-in-corner
fashion. It will make it very awk-
ward for his wife. You have not
told me If I shall like her. Bab."

"You will think her very duli, I
daresay."

"You will not receive her at all!"
stated his grace.

T

AHE Duchess re-

plied calmly: "Your mother received
me, Dominic.''

"Maryl"

"Well, my dear, but the circum-
stances were far more disgraceful,
weren't they?"

"I suppose you will say that I am
to blame for George's conduct?"

"At all events, you are scarcely in
a position to condemn him,'' she
said, smiling. "You made a shock-
ing mesalliance yourself. Dear me,
how rude we are, to be sure! Here
is Lady Worth come in, and not one
of us pays the least heed! How do
you do, my dear child? You must
let me thank you for your kindness
to my granddaughter. I am afraid
she has not used your family very

well."

"Oh, ma'am, that ls all forgotten!"
Judith said, taking her hand. "I
cannot find words to express to you
what it has meant to me to have her
here during this terrible time!"

"They warned us in Ghent," said
the Duchess, "not to proceed fur-
ther, as we should certainly be
obliged to fly from Brussels, so
naturally your grandfather had the
horses put to immediately."

He regarded her with a grim
little smile. "You were not behind-
hand, Mary!"

"Certainly not. All this dashing
about makes me feel myself a young
woman again. Which reminds me
that I must call upon my new grand-
daughter. You will give me her
uncle's direction, Bab."

"Understand me, Mary-"

"I will give it to you, ma'am, but
you must know that Mr. Fisher re-
gards the match with quite as much
dislike as does my grandfather."

This remark brought a sparkle
Into the Duke's eye. "He does, does
he? Go on, Miss! Go on! What
the devil has he against my grand-
son?"

"He thinks him a spendthrift,
sir."

"Ha! Confounded Cit! He may
consider himself lucky to have
caught George for his nobody of a
niece!"

"As to that, Lucy is his heir. I
fancy he was looking higher for her.
Her fortune will not be inconsider-
able, you know, and in these days

"So he was looking higher, was
he? An Alastair is not good enough
for him! Ill see this greasy mer-
chant!"

R AHE Duchess said

in her matter-of-fact way: "You
should certainly do so. It will
be much more the thing than that
wild notion you had taken into your
head of riding out with Lord Worth
towards the battlefield."

"Fisher can wait," replied his
grace. "I have every intention of
going to see what news can be got
the instant I have swallowed my
dinner."

"Dinner!" Judith exclaimed. "How
shocking of me! I had forgotten the
time. You must know, Duchess,
that here in Brussels we have got
into the way of dining at four. I
hope you will not mind. You must
please stay and join us."

"You should warn them that
Charles bore off our Sunday dinner,"
Barbara said, with a wry smile.

"You may be sure my cook will
have contrived something."

The Avons were putting up at the
Hotel de Belle Vue, and the Duchess
at once suggested that the whole
party should walk round to dine
there. It was declined, however;
Judith's confidence in her cook was
found not to have been misplaced;
and in a very few minutes they were
all seated round the table in the
dining-parlor.

The conversation was mostly of
the war. The wildest rumors were
current In Ghent, and the Duke
was glad to listen to a calm account
from Worth of all that had so far
passed. When he heard that the
Life Guards had driven the French
Lancers out of Genappe, he looked
pleased, but beyond saying that if
George did not get his brevet for
this he supposed he would be obliged

to purchase promotion for him, he

made no remark. As soon as they
rose from the table, he and Worth
took their departure, to ride to-
wards the Forest of Soignles in
search of intelligence, and Judith,
excusing herself, left Barbara alone
with her grandmother.

"I have surpassed myself, ma'am,"
Barbara said in a bitter tone. "Did
Vidal write you the whole?"

"Quite enough," replied the
Duchess. "I wish, dearest, you will
try to get the better of this shocking
disposition of yours."

"If Charles comes back to me
there ls nothing I will not do!"

"We will hope he may do so. Your
grandfather was very much pleased
with the civil letter Colonel Audley
wrote to him. How came you to
throw him off as you did, my love?"

"O, Grandmama!" Barbara whis-
pered, and fell on her knees beside
the Duchess, and buried her face in
her lap.

It was long before she could be
calm. The Duchess listened In un-
derstanding silence to the disjointed
sentences gasped out, merely saying
presently: "Don't cry, Bab. It will
ruin your face, you know."

"I don't give a hang for my facer
"I am very sure that you do."

Please turn to Page 45

AN Infamous ARMY

Continued from Page 44

AKBAR A sat up,

,m through her tears. "Con
""^fvou ma'am, you know too
i0 hi There, I have done! You
""T'wtsh me to remove to the
fw * Belle Vue, do you? I

Jot leave Judith at this pre

all means stay here, my love,
t tell me about this child George
Z: married, if you please!"

«T cannot conceive what possessed

to look twice at her. She

^ÂÏÏ^l'had better go and

-»ll upon her aunt."

she very soon took her leave, set
Hne out on foot to the Fishers' lodg
ie Her visit did much to soothe
tîfcv's agitation; and her calm
»nod sense almost reconciled -Mr.
««her to an alliance which he had
¡¿n regarding with the deepest
misriving. Neither his appearance,
nor the obsequiousness of his man-
ners could be expected to please the
Duchess, but she was agreeably sur-
mised in Lucy, and although not
Sacing much dependence, upon her
Lng able to hold George's volatile
tancv went back presently to her
hotei feeling that things might have

been much worse.

Worth returned to his home about
¿x o'clock, having parted from the
puke at the end of the street.

Scarcely an hour later the town
»as thrown into an uproar by the
Cumberland Hussars galloping in
through the Namur Gate, and stam-
peding through the streets, shouting
that all was lost', and the French
hard on their heels. They seemed
not to have drawn rein in their flight
from the battlefield, and went
through Brussels scattering the in-
habitants before them.

XEOPLE began
once more to run about, crying:
"Les Francais sont ici! Ils s'em-
parent a' la porte de la ville! Nous
gommes tous perdue. Que ferons
nous?" Many people kept their
horses at their doors, but no more
troops followed the Hussars, and the
panic gradually abated. A little later
a large number of French prisoners
i intered the town under escort, and

were marched to the barracks of
Petit Chateau. The sight of two
captured Eagles caused complete

strangers to shake one another by
the hand; more prisoners árrived,
and hopes ran high, only to be
dashed by the intelligence conveyed
hy one or two wounded officers, that
everything had been going as badly
si possible when they had left the

field.

At half-past eight o'clock, Worth,
who had gone out some time before
In quest of news, came abruptly toto
the salon where Judith and Barbara
vere sitting in the most dreadful
suspense, and said, with more sharp-
ness in his voice than his wife had
ever heard: "Judith, be so good as
to have pillows put immediately into
the chaise! I am going at once
towards Waterloo: Charles is there,
very badly wounded. Cherry has
Just come to me with the news."

He did not wait, but strode out to
his own room, to make what prepar-
ations for the journey were neces-
sary. Both ladies ran after him,
Imploring him to tell them more.

"I know nothing more than what
I have told you. Cherry had no idea
how things were going-badly, he
thinks. I may be away some time:
the road ls almost blocked by the
carts overturned by the German
cavalry's rout. Have Charles' bed
made up-but you will know what to

do!"

"I will have the pillows put in the
chaise," Barbara said in a voice of
repressed anguish, and left the room.

The chaise was already at the door,
«nd Colonel Aùdley's groom waiting
Impatiently beside it. He was too

overcome to be able to tell Barbara
much, but the little he did say was
enough to appall her.

Colonel Audley nad been carried to
Mont St. Jean by some foreigners',
he did not know whether Dutch or

German.

"It does not signify. Go on!"

Cherry brushed his hand across his
eyes. "I saw them carrying him
along the road. Oh, my lady, in all
the years I've served the Colonel I
never thought to see such a sight as
met my eyes! My poor master like
one dead, and the blood soaked right
through the horse-blanket they had
laid him on! He was taken straight
to the cottage of Mont St. Jean,
where those sawbones-saving your
ladyship's presence!-was busy. I
thought my master was gone, but he
opened his eyes as they put him
down, and said to me: 'Hallo,
Cherry!' he said, 'I've got lt, you

6ee.' "

He fairly broke down, but Barbara,
gripping the open chaise door, merely
said harshly: "Go on!"

"Yes, my lady! But I don't know
how to tell your ladyship what
they done to my master, Dr. Hume,
and them others, right there in the
garden. Oh, my lady, they've taken
his arm off! And he bore it all
without a groan."

She pressed her handkerchief to
her lips. In a stifled voice, she said:
"But he will live!"

"You would not say so If you could
but see him, my lady. Four horses
he's had shot under him this day,
and a wound on his leg turning as
black as my boot. We got him to
the inn at Waterloo, but there's no
staying there: they couldn't take in
the Prince of Orange himself, for all
he had a musket-hall In his shoul-

der."

Worth ran down the steps of the
house at that moment, and curtly
told Cherry to get up on the box. As
he drew on his driving-gloves, Bar-
bara said: "I have put my smelling
salts inside the chaise, and a roll of
lint. I would come with you, but I
believe you will do better without
me. O, Worth, bring him safely

back!"

I SHALL cer-

tainly bring him back. Go in to
Judith, and do not be imagining
anything nonsensical if I'm away
some hours. Good-bye!"

He mounted the box; the grooms
let go the wheelers' heads, and as
the chaise moved forward one of
them jumped up behind.

For the next four hours Judith
and Barbara, having made every
preparation for the Colonel's ar-
rival, waited, sick with suspense, for
Worth's return. The Duke of Avon
walked round from the Hotel de Belle
Vue at ten o'clock, and, learning of
Colonel Audley's fate from Judith's
faltering tongue, said promptly:
"Good, ls that all? One would say
he had been blown In pieces by a
howitzer-shell to look at your faces!
Cheer up, Bab! Why, I once shot a
man just above the heart, and he

recovered!"

"That must have been a mistake,
sir, I feel sure."

"It was," he admitted. "Only time
I ever missed my mark."

At any other time both ladies
would have wished to hear more of
this anecdote, but In the agitation
of spirits which they were suffering
nothing that did not bear directly
upon the present issue had the power
to engagé their attention. The Duke,
after animadverting with peculiar
violence upon Mr. Fisher's manners
and ideals, bade them good night,
and went back to his hotel.

.After he had gone, no further
Interruptions occurred. The even

lng was mild, with a fitful moon-
light shining through the lifting
storm-clouds. Barbara had drawn
back the blinds, and opened one of
the windows, and sat by it almost
without stirring. »In the street be-
low, a few people passed, but the
sounds that drifted to the salon
were muffled, as though Brussels
were restless, but quiet.

Once Judith said: "Would you
like to lie down upon your bed for
a little while? I would wake you
the instant he comes."

"I could not rest. But you--"
"No, nor I."

The brief conversation died. An-
other hour crept by. As the church
clocks struck the hour of one, the
clatter of horses' feet on the cobblés

reached the ladies' straining ears.
Lanterns, dipping and rocking with
the lurch of a chaise, were seen
approaching down the street, and
in another moment Worth's chaise
and-four had drawn up outside the
house.

Barbara picked up the branch of
candles from the table. "Go down.
I will light the stairs," she said.

Judith ran from the room, feel-
ing her knees shaking under her.
The butler and Worth's valet were
already at the door: there was noth-
ing for her to do, and. almost over-
powered by dread, she remained
upon the landing, leaning against
the wall, fighting against the ner-
vous spasm that turned her sick and
faint.

Concluded Next Week

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