said I, "it is impossible that anyone so beautiful can also be
hard-hearted? You will not refuse me the refuge which I need."

She looked at my whiskers and I saw that she was softened. I took her
hand, and in two minutes we were on such terms that her husband swore
roundly that he would give me up himself if I pressed the matter
farther.

"Besides, the road is full of Prussians," he cried.

"Quick! quick! into the loft!"

"Quick! quick! into the loft!" echoed his wife, and together they
hurried me toward a ladder which led to a trap-door in the ceiling.
There was loud knocking at the door, so you can think that it was not
long before my spurs went twinkling through the hole and the board was
dropped behind me. An instant later I heard the voices of the Germans in
the rooms below me.

The place in which I found myself was a single long attic, the ceiling
of which was formed by the roof of the house. It ran over the whole of
one side of the inn, and through the cracks in the flooring I could
look down either upon the kitchen, the sitting-room, or the bar at my
pleasure. There were no windows, but the place was in the last stage of
disrepair, and several missing slates upon the roof gave me light and
the means of observation.

The place was heaped with lumber-fodder at one end and a huge pile of
empty bottles at the other. There was no door or window save the hole
through which I had come up.

I sat upon the heap of hay for a few minutes to steady myself and to
think out my plans. It was very serious that the Prussians should arrive
upon the field of battle earlier than our reserves, but there appeared
to be only one corps of them, and a corps more or less makes little
difference to such a man as the Emperor. He could afford to give the
English all this and beat them still.

The best way in which I could serve him, since Grouchy was behind, was
to wait here until they were past, and then to resume my journey, to see
the Marshal, and to give him his orders. If he advanced upon the rear
of the English instead of following the Prussians all would be well. The
fate of France depended upon my judgment and my nerve. It was not the
first time, my friends, as you are well aware, and you know the reasons
that I had to trust that neither nerve nor judgment would ever fail me.
Certainly, the Emperor had chosen the right man for his mission. "The
prince of messengers" he had called me. I would earn my title.

It was clear