They remained a little time, and I recovered myself enough to speak to them cheerfully as they went out. They lingered, and seemed to wish to speak to me, but I was well aware of what they had to say. I felt unable to hear it then, and I shut the door instead of going out. It was that night Mr Powell asked Emma if she knew what I thought. He desired to be sent for on the first appearance of change. At one in the morning he was in great pain, and as I raised him that he might breathe more freely, he looked so fixed that I was afraid he was just expiring. His arms were round my neck to raise himself by, and I thought we should both have been killed by the exertion. He asked if Mr Powell had not talked of bleeding him again. I said I had sent for him. He bled him then for the last time. From that moment all the fever was gone. Mr Powell said it was of consequence to keep him quiet, and if he would sleep calmly it would do him good. At four in the morning I was called out to see a surgeon sent from Mr Powell, who was ill in bed. He came to know how Sir William was. He had slept a little till three; but the oppression was returning. This surgeon told me he had been anxious to speak to me several times, to tell me that it was he who had first seen him on the field, and who had given it as his opinion that he might live. He was grieved indeed to think that it should fall to his lot to tell me that it was the opinion of the surgeons that if I had anything particular to say to Sir William, I should not delay long. I asked, "How long?" He said they could not exactly tell. I said, "Days or hours?" He answered that the present symptoms would certainly not prove fatal within twelve hours. I left him, and went softly into my husband's room, for he was sleeping. I sat down at the other end of the room, and continued looking at him, quite stupefied; I could scarcely see. My mouth was so parched that when I touched it, it felt as dry as the back of my hand. I thought I was to die first. I then thought, what would he do for want of me during the remaining few hours he had to live. This idea roused me, and I began to recollect our helpless situation whatever happened, and tried to think who I could inform of the circumstances. I was not long in deciding on General Dundas, if he could be found, and have time to come and take care of us both. I immediately wrote a long letter to him, telling him how I was situated, and begging that he would come after twelve hours. I said I hoped I should be calm and fit to act for myself; but as I had never been near such a scene before, I knew not what effect it might have upon me. I therefore explained what I wished might be done after all was over, with respect to everything. I then sent the servant with the letter and orders to find General Dundas, if he were within ten miles of Brussels. A few hours after, I had one line from him to say he would be at Waterloo in the evening.