very fortunately my head was not in it.

The fire of the batteries having ceased, which it generally did at
stated periods, we had an opportunity of examining the point of attack.
Scaling-ladders and dead bodies lay in profusion. All the wounded had
been removed, but what magnificent "food for powder" were the bodies
which lay before us!--all, it would seem, picked men; not one less than
six feet, and some more: they were clad in their grey _capots_, to
render their appearance more _sombre_, and less discernible in the
twilight of the morning: and as the weather was cold during the nights,
I secretly determined to have one of those great-coats as a _chere amie_
to keep me warm in night-watches. I also resolved to have the colonel's
sword to present to my captain; and as soon as it was dark I walked down
the breach, brought up one of the scaling-ladders, which I deposited in
the castle; and having done so much for the king, I set out to do
something for myself.

It was pitch dark. I stumbled on: the wind blew a hurricane, and the
dust and mortar almost blinded me; but I knew my way pretty well. Yet,
there was something very jackall-like, in wandering about among dead
bodies in the night-time and I really felt a horror at my situation.
There was a dreadful stillness between the blasts, which the pitch
darkness made peculiarly awful to an unfortified mind. It is for this
reason that I would ever discourage night-attacks, unless you can rely
on your men. They generally fail: because the man of common bravery,
who would acquit himself fairly in broad daylight, will hang back during
the night. Fear and darkness have always been firm allies; and are
inseparably playing into each other's hands. Darkness conceals fear,
and therefore fear loves darkness, because it saves the coward from
shame; and when the fear of shame is the only stimulus to fight,
daylight is essentially necessary.

I crept cautiously along, feeling for the dead bodies. The first I laid
my hand on, made my blood curdle. It was the lacerated thigh of a
grenadier, whose flesh had been torn off by a hand-grenade. "Friend,"
said I, "if I may judge from the nature of your wound, your great-coat
is not worth having." The next subject I handled, had been better
killed. A musket-ball through his head had settled all his tradesmen's
bills; and I hesitated not in becoming residuary legatee, as I was sure
the assets would more than discharge the undertaker