t of Brussels again, and on the road to Waterloo. It is
nine miles, and we took three hours and a half. Mr Hay rode before us
with his sword drawn, and obliged them to let us pass. We often stood
still for ten minutes. The horses screamed at the smell of
corruption, which in many places was offensive. At last, when near the
village, Mr Hay said he would ride forward and find the house, and
learn whether I should still proceed or not. I hope no one will ever
be able to say they can understand what my feelings must have been
during the half-hour that passed till he returned. How fervently and
sincerely I resolved that if I saw him alive for one hour I never
would repine! I had almost lost my recollection, with the excess of
anxiety and suspense, when Mr Hay called out, "All's well; I have seen
him. He expects you."

When we got to the village, Sir G. Scovell met the carriage, and
opening the door, said, "Stop one moment."

I said, "Is he alive?"

"Yes, alive; and the surgeons are of opinion that he may recover. We
are so grieved for what you have suffered."

"Oh! never mind what I have suffered. Let me go to him now."

He said I must wait one moment. I assured him I was composed indeed.

He said, "I see you are," with a smile, "but I wish to warn you of one
thing. You must be aware that his life hangs on a very slender hold;
and therefore any agitation would be injurious. Now, we have not told
him you had heard of his death; we thought it would afflict him;
therefore do not appear to have heard it."

I promised, and he said, "Now come along." I sat down for an instant
in the outer room, and he went in; and when I heard my husband say,
"Let her come in, then," I was overpaid for all the misery.

I was surprised at the strength of his voice, for I had expected to
find him weak and dying. When I went into the room where he lay, he
held out his hand and said, "Come, Magdalene, this is a sad business,
is it not?" I could not speak, but sat down by him and took his hand.
This was my occupation for six days.

Though I found him far better than I expected, I can scarcely say
whether I hoped or feared most at first; because I was so much
occupied with gathering comforts about him, and helping him, that I
had not time to think about the future. It was a dreadful but
sufficient preparation, being told of his death; and then finding him
alive, I was ready to bear whatever might ensue without a murmur. I
was so grateful for