At the hotel where we put up I heard that the Chancellor was still in the town, and lodged at the house of a merchant and manufacturer named Haldy. I had therefore missed nothing by all our delays, and had fortunately at length reached harbour. Not a minute too soon, however, as on going to report my arrival I was informed by Count Bismarck-Bohlen, the Minister’s cousin, that they intended to move on shortly after midday. I bade good-bye to my companions from Berlin, as there was no room for them in the Chancellor’s suite, and also to our London friend, whose patriotic offer General Roon was regretfully obliged to decline. After providing for the safety of my luggage, I presented myself to the Count, who was just leaving to call upon the King. I then went to the Bureau to ascertain if I could be of any assistance. There was plenty to do. Every one had his hands full, and I was immediately told off to make a translation for the King of Queen Victoria’s Speech from the Throne, which had just arrived. I was highly interested by a declaration contained in a despatch to St. Petersburg, which I had to dictate to one of our deciphering clerks, although at the time I could not quite understand it. It was to the effect that we should not be satisfied with the mere fall of Napoleon. That looked like a foreshadowing of some miracle. Strassburg! and perhaps the Vosges as our frontier! Who could have dreamed of it three weeks before? In the meantime the weather had cleared up. Shortly before one o’clock, under a broiling sun, three four-horse carriages drew up before our door, with soldiers riding as postilions. One was for the Chancellor, another for the Councillors and Count Bismarck-Bohlen, and the third for the Secretaries and Decipherers. The two Councillors and the Count having decided to ride, I took a place in their carriage, as I also did subsequently whenever they went on horseback. Five minutes later we crossed the stream and entered the Saarbrücken high road, which led past the battle-field of the 6th of August. Within half an hour of our departure from Sanct Johann we were on French soil. There were still many traces of the sanguinary struggle that had raged there five days ago--branches torn from the trees by artillery fire, fragments of accoutrements and uniforms, the crops trampled into the earth, broken wheels, pits dug in the ground by exploding shells, and small wooden crosses roughly tied together, probably marking the graves of officers and others. So far as one could observe all the dead had been already buried.