ble, to
retreat was dishonor. They would stand! Their case was hopeless.
Appeals were made for the survivors to lay down their arms and
surrender. Into the faces of the assailants vulgar but heroic
Cambronne hurled a disgusting but graphic word. No, nobody said so,
but the Guard would not surrender. It would die.

Back of his Guard, the Emperor, having stopped not far from the
chateau, watched them die. He was paler than ever, sweat poured from
his face, his eyes and lips twitched nervously and spasms of physical
pain added their torture to the mental agony of the moment. He
muttered again and again:

"_Mon Dieu! Mais ils sont meles ensemble._"

Now the Prussian horsemen, the Death-head Hussars, added their weight
to Vandeleur's and Vivian's swordsmen and lancers. Other regiments
supplemented the withering fire of the advancing Fifty-second and the
reserve brigades. Now, at last, the Guard began to give back. Slowly,
reluctantly, clinging to their positions, fighting, firing, savage,
mad--they began to give way.

"_Tout est perdu_," whispered Napoleon.

"The Guard retreats!" cried someone near the Emperor.

"_La Garde recule_!" rose here and there from the battlefield. "_La
Garde recule_!" Men caught up the cry in wonder and despair. Could it
be true? Yes. Back they came out of the smoke. Now was the supreme
opportunity for the allies. The Duke, recklessly exposing himself on
the crest of the hill, bullets flying about him, as they flew about
Napoleon, yet leading apparently a charmed life, closed his field-glass
and turned to the red line that had made good its defense.

"Up!" he cried, waving his hand and not finishing his sentence.

They needed no other signal. Their time to attack had come. Down the
hill they rushed, yelling, followed by Belgians, Netherlanders, and all
the rest, pressing hard upon their heels. La Haye Sainte was
recaptured in the twinkling of an eye. The shattered broken remains of
the Guard were driven in headlong rout. The assailers of Hougomont
were themselves assaulted. At last numbers had overwhelmed Lobau. The
survivors of an army of a hundred and thirty thousand flushed with
victory fell on the survivors of an army of seventy thousand already
defeated.

At half-past seven the battle was lost. At eight the withdrawal became
a retreat, the retreat a rout. At set of sun lost was the Emperor,
lost was the Empire. Ended was the age-long struggle which had be