had begun to show, and Napoleon had set 20,000 of his men to face them, which made up for ours that had bolted, and left us much as we began.  That was all dark to us, however; and there was a time, when the French horsemen had flooded in between us and the rest of the army, that we thought we were the only brigade left standing, and had set our teeth with the intention of selling our lives as dearly as we could.

At that time it was between four and five in the afternoon, and we had had nothing to eat, the most of us, since the night before, and were soaked with rain into the bargain.  It had drizzled off and on all day, but for the last few hours we had not had a thought to spare either upon the weather or our hunger.  Now we began to look round and tighten our waist-belts, and ask who was hit and who was spared.  I was glad to see Jim, with his face all blackened with powder, standing on my right rear, leaning on his firelock.  He saw me looking at him, and shouted out to know if I were hurt.

“All right, Jim,” I answered.

“I fear I’m here on a wild-goose chase,” said he gloomily, “but it’s not over yet.  By God, I’ll have him, or he’ll have me!”

He had brooded so much on his wrong, had poor Jim, that I really believe that it had turned his head; for he had a glare in his eyes as he spoke that was hardly human.  He was always a man that took even a little thing to heart, and since Edie had left him I am sure that he was no longer his own master.

It was at this time of the fight that we saw two single fights, which they tell me were common enough in the battles of old, before men were trained in masses.  As we lay in the hollow two horsemen came spurring along the ridge right in front of us, riding as hard as hoof could rattle.  The first was an English dragoon, his face right down on his horse’s mane, with a French cuirassier, an old, grey-headed fellow, thundering behind him, on a big black mare.  Our chaps set up a hooting as they came flying on, for it seemed shame to see an Englishman run like that; but as they swept across our front we saw where the trouble lay.  The dragoon had dropped his sword, and was unarmed, while the other was pressing him so close that he could not get a weapon.  At last, stung maybe by our hooting, he made up his mind to chance it.  His eye fell on a lance beside a dead Frenchman, so he swerved his horse to let the other pass, and hopping off cleverly enough, he gripped hold of it.  But the other was too tricky for him, and was on him like a shot.  The dragoon thrust up with the lance, but the other turned it, and sliced him through the shoulder-blade.  It was all done in an instant, and the Frenchman cantering his horse up the brae, showing his teeth at us over his shoulder like a snarling dog.