There was some irregularity in the arrangement of these troops, and the Duke of Ragusa essayed in person to remedy the evil. He marched with the 3rd and 4th Divisions to the head of the wood occupied by Boyer, and it was then he conceived the idea of extending his left, which afterwards proved so fatal to him. On our side all was arranged for defence; the bustle which was evident in the ranks of the enemy caused no change in our dispositions. Lord Wellington, having surveyed what was passing, and judging that something was meant by it, gave his glass to one of his aide-de-camps, while he himself sat down to eat a few mouthfuls of cold beef. He had scarcely commenced when his aide-de-camp said, “The enemy are in motion, my lord!”—“Very well; observe what they are doing,” was the reply. A minute or so elapsed, when the aide-de-camp said, “I think they are extending to their left.”—“The devil they are!” said his lordship, springing upon his feet,—“give me the glass quickly.” He took it, and for a short space continued observing the motions of the enemy with earnest attention. “Come!” he exclaimed, “I think this will do at last; ride off instantly, and tell Clinton and Leith to return as rapidly as possible to their former ground.” In a moment afterwards Lord Wellington was on horseback, and all his staff in motion. The soldiers stood to their arms—the colours were uncased—bayonets fixed—the order to prime and load passed, and in five minutes after the false movement of Marmont was discovered, our army, which so short a time before stood on the defensive, was arrayed for the attack! It was twenty minutes past four when these dispositions were completed; and here it may not be amiss to tell the reader the nature of the movement made by the French General, which so materially altered his position, as likewise that of his antagonist—and in doing so I shall be as brief as I can. It has been already seen that both armies were so circumstanced as to almost preclude the possibility of a battle not taking place. Marmont coveted it—Wellington did not seek to decline it—both had the confidence of their soldiers—and both, as to numbers, might be said to be on an equality. When I speak of “numbers” I include the Portuguese troops. Military men know what was the _real_ value of these soldiers! At two o’clock in the afternoon Marmont was the aggressor; he held the higher hand; yet at four, in two short hours afterwards, the relative situation of both was altogether changed. The natural question will be—How was this? It occurred just as I am about to describe.