oper marching columns,
baggage-columns, Henri altogether quitted this Camp; and vanished like
a dream. Into the Night; men and goods, every item:--who shall say
whitherward? Leaving only a few light people to keep up the watch-fires
and sentry-cries, for behoof of Daun! Let readers here, who are in the
secret, watch him a little from afar.

Straight northward goes Prince Henri, down Neisse Valley, 20 miles
or so, to Rothenburg; in columns several-fold, with much delicate
arranging, which was punctually followed: and in the course of to-morrow
Prince Henri is bivouacked, for a short rest of three hours,--hidden in
unknown space, 20 miles from Daun, when Daun comes marching up to storm
him on the Landskron! Gone veritably; but whitherward Daun cannot form
the least guess. Daun can only keep his men under arms there, all day;
while his scouts gallop far and wide,--bringing in this false guess and
the other; and at length returning with the eminently false one, misled
by some of Henri's baggage-columns, which have to go many routes, That
the Prince is on march for Glogau:--"Gone northeast; that way went his
wagons; these we saw with our eyes." "Northeast? Yes, to Glogau possibly
enough," thinks Daun: "Or may not he, cunning as he is and full of
feints, intend a stroke on Bautzen, in my absence?"--and hastens thither
again, and sits down on the Magazine-lid, glad to find nothing wrong
there.

This is all that Daun hears of Henri for the next four days. Plenty of
bad news from Saxony in these four days: the Finck-Haddick Action of
Korbitz, a dismal certainty before one started,--and Haddick on his
road to some Watering Place by this time! But no trace of Henri farther;
since that of the wagons wending northeast. "Gone to Glogau, to his
Brother: no use in pushing him, or trying to molest him there!" thinks
Daun; and waits, in stagnant humor, chewing the cud of bitter enough
thoughts, till confirmation of that guess arrive:--as it never will in
this world! Read an important Note:--

"To northward of Bautzen forty miles, and to westward forty miles,
the country is all Daun's; only towards Glogau, with the Russians and
Friedrich thereabouts, does it become disputable, or offer Prince Henri
any chance. Nevertheless it is not to Glogau, it is far the reverse,
that the nimble Henri has gone. Resting himself at Rothenburg 'three
hours' (speed is of all things the vitalest), Prince Henri starts again,
SUNDAY afternoon, straight wes