His horse turned and bolted with him, back along the road, until he came to his master’s groom holding a second mount, when, stopping suddenly, the dying man was pitched on his head on to the stone causeway. But he had been terribly avenged; for the kilted Highlandmen burst into the house with a roar and put every soul inside to the bayonet. “Where is the rest of the regiment?” asked Picton in the evening. Alas! upwards of half the “gay Gordons” had perished in the fray. Through the broiling heat of that summer day our infantry stood firm, growing stronger as regiment after regiment arrived, and fresh batteries unlimbered in the trampled corn, until at night Ney fell back, leaving us in possession; our cavalry came up, jaded by their long marches; and we bivouacked on the battle-field, cooking our suppers in the cuirasses of the slain. * * * * * Meanwhile, Napoleon had beaten Blücher a few miles away at Ligny, but had neglected, in most un-Napoleonic fashion, to follow up his advantage, and the wily old hussar--he was over seventy-three--slipped off in the dark and retreated on Wavre. When Wellington learned this next morning, he said to Captain Bowles: “Old Blücher has had a ---- good licking, and has gone back to Wavre. As he has gone back, we must go too. I suppose in England they will say we have been licked. I can’t help that.” So back we went, along the Brussels road, our cavalry covering the retreat until we reached the stronger position before Mont St. Jean, where we halted and faced about, and glued ourselves on the ridge across the causeway in such a manner that all the magnificent chivalry of France could never move us. During the retreat from Quatre Bras on the 17th, all went well until the middle of the day. The wounded had been collected; the columns filed off along the road; one of the regiments even found time to halt and flog a marauder: when, the enemy’s cavalry pressing our rear-guard too closely, some Horse Artillery guns opened fire, and the discharge seemed to burst the heavy rainclouds.