from the shadow, but it's still there.
Wellington is ordered from Vienna to the Low Countries, and it is
thought that the Emperor will break out first on that side. Well, it's
a bad wind that blows nobody any good. I've just had news that I am to
join the 71st as senior major."

I shook hands with our good neighbour on this, for I knew how it had
lain upon his mind that he should be a cripple, with no part to play in
the world.

"I am to join my regiment as soon as I can; and we shall be over yonder
in a month, and in Paris, maybe, before another one is over."

"By the Lord, then, I'm with you, Major!" cried Jim Horscroft. "I'm not
too proud to carry a musket, if you will put me in front of this
Frenchman."

"My lad, I'd be proud to have you serve under me," said the Major. "And
as to de Lissac, where the Emperor is he will be."

"You know the man," said I. "What can you tell us of him?"

"There is no better officer in the French army, and that is a big word
to say. They say that he would have been a marshal, but he preferred to
stay at the Emperor's elbow. I met him two days before Corunna, when I
was sent with a flag to speak about our wounded. He was with Soult
then. I knew him again when I saw him."

"And I will know him again when I see him!" said Horscroft, with the old
dour look on his face.

And then at that instant, as I stood there, it was suddenly driven home
to me how poor and purposeless a life I should lead while this crippled
friend of ours and the companion of my boyhood were away in the
forefront of the storm. Quick as a flash my resolution was taken.

"I'll come with you too, Major," I cried.

"Jock! Jock!" said my father, wringing his hands.

Jim said nothing, but put his arm half round me and hugged me.
The Major's eyes shone and he flourished his cane in the air.

"My word, but I shall have two good recruits at my heels," said he.
"Well, there's no time to be lost, so you must both be ready for the
evening coach."

And this was what a single day brought about; and yet years pass away so
often without a change. Just think of the alteration in that
four-and-twenty hours. De Lissac was gone. Edie was gone. Napoleon
had escaped. War had broken out. Jim Horscroft had lost everything,
and he and I were setting out to fight against the French. It was all
like a dream, until I tramped off to the coach that evening, and looked
back at the grey farm steading and at the two lit