That we were to move forward, then, was certain. It was rather sudden, to be sure, and all the whys and wherefores were left to conjecture; but the suddenness of it, and the importance of arriving quickly at the appointed place, rather alarmed me, for upon reflection I remembered that I had been guilty of two or three imprudences. First, all my officers were absent; secondly, all my country waggons were absent; thirdly, a whole division (one-third of my troop) was absent at Yseringen. “_Send the sergeant-major here_,” was the first order, as I drew on my stockings. “_Send for Mr Coates_” (my commissariat officer), the second, as I got one leg into my overalls. “_William, make haste and get breakfast_,” the third, as I buttoned them up. The sergeant-major soon came, and received his orders to turn out instanter, with the three days’ provisions and forage[11] in the havresacks and on the horses; also to send an express for the first division. He withdrew, and immediately the fine martial clang of “boot-and-saddle” resounded through the village and courts of the chateau, making the woods ring again, and even the frogs stop to listen. The commissary soon made his appearance. “What! are we off, sir?” “Yes, without delay; and you must collect your waggons as quickly as possible.” “I fear, Captain Mercer, that will take some time, for St Cyr’s are gone to Ninove.” My folly here stared me full in the face. Mr Coates said he would do his utmost to collect them; and as he was a most active, intelligent, and indefatigable fellow, I communicated to him my orders and determination not to wait, desiring him to follow us as soon as he possibly could. My first-enumerated care was speedily removed, for I learned that the officers had just arrived and were preparing for the march, having known of it at Brussels ere we did. The two divisions in Strytem were ready to turn out in a few minutes after the “boot-and-saddle” had resounded, but, as I feared, the first kept us waiting until near seven o’clock before it made its appearance. This delay allowed us time to make a hearty breakfast; and, in the uncertainty of when we should get another meal, we each stowed away a double portion of Walsdragen’s fine eggs. At length the first division arrived, and the animating and soul-stirring notes of the “turn-out” again awoke the echoes of the hills and woods. Up jumped my old dog Bal, and away to parade and increase the bustle by jumping at the horses’ noses and barking, as parade formed. Away went the officers to inspect their divisions, and Milward is leading my impatient charger Cossac up and down the court. I linger to take a last look of my antique apartment, and bid farewell to my mute companions the Van Voldens.