nd
gay companions, of our days of storm and sunshine; sometimes indulging in
prospects for the future, we trotted along, and as the day was breaking,
mounted the ridge of low hills, from whence, at the distance of a couple of
leagues, the city of Brussels came into view.

CHAPTER LI.

THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL.

Whether we regard the illustrious and distinguished personages who thronged
around, or we think of the portentous moment in which it was given, the
Duchess of Richmond's ball, on the night of the 15th of June, 1815, was not
only one of the most memorable, but, in its interest, the most exciting
entertainment that the memory of any one now living can compass.

There is always something of no common interest in seeing the bronzed and
war-worn soldier mixing in the crowd of light-hearted and brilliant
beauty. To watch the eye whose proud glance has flashed over the mail-clad
squadrons now bending meekly beneath the look of some timid girl; to hear
the voice that, high above the battle or the breeze, has shouted the
hoarse word "Charge!" now subdued into the low, soft murmur of flattery or
compliment. This, at any rate, is a picture full of its own charm; but when
we see these heroes of a hundred fights; when we look upon these hardy
veterans, upon whose worn brows the whitened locks of time are telling,
indulging themselves in the careless gayety of a moment, snatched as it
were from the arduous career of their existence, while the tramp of the
advancing enemy shakes the very soil they stand on, and where it may be
doubted whether each aide-de-camp who enters comes a new votary of pleasure
or the bearer of tidings that the troops of the foe are advancing, and
already the work of death has begun: this is, indeed, a scene to make the
heart throb, and the pulse beat high; this is a moment second in its proud
excitement only to the very crash and din of battle itself. And into this
entrancing whirlwind of passion and of pleasure, of brilliant beauty
and ennobled greatness, of all that is lovely in woman and all that is
chivalrous and heroic in man, I brought a heart which, young in years, was
yet tempered by disappointment; still, such was the fascination, such the
brilliancy of the spectacle, that scarcely had I entered, than I felt a
change come over me,--the old spirit of my boyish ardor, that high-wrought
enthusiasm to do something, to be something which men may speak of, shot
suddenly through me, a