Where is Strytem? and for what this sudden move? These were questions to which I could get no answer. The hussar knew nothing, and the people about me less. One thing was positive, and that was, that we must be under weigh instanter, and pick out Strytem as best we might. The sergeant-major, therefore, was despatched to give the alert; and having given the hussar a receipt in full for his important despatch, I proceeded to clothe my person for the journey, having hitherto been _en chemise_. As the trumpeter was lodged in a house close by with my own grooms, the “boot-and-saddle” quickly reverberated through the village, and set its whole population in movement. A gentle tap at my door announced a visitor. What was my surprise on opening it!--there was Madame la Juge _tout en déshabillé_, evidently just tumbled out of bed, and apparently much agitated. Such a scene I did not expect. “Ah, Monsieur, vous allez partis!” and she actually began to sob and cry like a child. Was she serious, or was this acting? If the latter, she certainly played her part so well that I could not but give her credit for being in earnest. It is so delightful to believe one’s self interesting to a fine woman. Advancing my toilette, I tried at the same time to moderate this outbreak of feeling. She only wept the more. Meantime M. le Juge arrived on the stage, his old blue frock carelessly thrown on, and his nether garment occupying both his hands, one holding it up, and the other arranging it, the eternal green cap stuck on his head, hardly yet quite awake--unwashed, uncombed: the good man did not present the most amiable figure by the side of his neat consort. Our people were not accustomed to delay, and the road in front of the house was already a scene of bustle from the assembling of the detachments lying nearer home. Although still lachrymose, Madame did not stand idle; but, seeing my servant sufficiently employed packing my portmanteau, set about preparing breakfast, to which I soon sat down, whilst the worthy couple waited on me, recommending this and that, and pressing me to eat, much in the manner of two fond parents hanging over the early meal of their darling boy, about to return to school by the expected coach. I could not but feel grateful for so much kindness, and consequently sorrow at so soon leaving them; and so this breakfast was rather a melancholy one, although the morning sun did shine so bright. The good people were unceasing in their regrets, and repeatedly made me promise that, if I remained in the country, I would pay them another visit--a promise I was never able to fulfil, however. To my questions respecting Strytem, Monsieur could give no satisfactory answers. “It lay in a very fine country, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Brussels; and we had better take the road to that city in the first instance, and trust for further information to the peasantry as we went along.”