Bronsart intimated to the Commandant of Torcy that he bore a summons to the Commander-in-Chief, he was conducted to the Sub-Prefecture, “where,” says the official narrative, “he found himself face to face with the Emperor Napoleon, whose presence in Sedan until that moment had been unknown at the German head-quarters.” The arrival of the Prussian officer seems to have occurred just as the Emperor finished writing a letter to the King destined to become famous. But he answered Bronsart’s request that an officer fully empowered to treat should be sent to the German head-quarters, by remarking that General de Wimpffen commanded the Army. Thereupon, Colonel Bronsart departed, bearing a weighty piece of intelligence indeed, but no effective reply; and soon afterwards General Reille, intrusted with the Imperial letter, rode out of the gate of Torcy and ascended the hill whence the King had witnessed the battle. _King William and his Warriors._ An eminence, selected by the Staff because it commanded an extensive view, rises a little south of Frenois—the site has been marked on the map with a small pyramid—and upon this, about seven o’clock, just as the fog was lifting, King William took his stand. When the mists vanished, the sun poured his dazzling splendour over the landscape, and the air was so lucid that everything could be seen distinctly through a powerful field-glass. “The sun shone out in full power,” says Prince Bibesco. “The sun was exceedingly powerful,” writes Dr. Russell. “The day had become so clear”—he is writing of the same period as the Prince—“that through a good glass the movements of individual men were plainly discernible.” And, a little earlier, he says, “on the hills, through wood and garden,” he was looking towards the Givonne, “and in the valleys, bayonets glistened, and arms twinkled and flashed like a streamlet in moonlight.” And so it continued to the end. “The hills of the battlefield,” writes Dr. Moritz Busch, “the gorge in its midst, the villages, the houses and the towers of the fortress, the suburb of Torcy, the ruined [railway] bridge to the left in the distance, shone bright in the evening glow, and their details became clearer every minute, as if one were looking through stronger and stronger spectacles.” Through such a rich and transparent atmosphere the King gazed from his height upon the city wherein Turenne was born, in September, 1611, and on the battle which has made the little town on the Meuse, which Vauban fortified, still more memorable. A glimpse of the group on the hill is fortunately afforded by Dr. Russell, whose keen eyes on a battlefield seem to overlook nothing. “Of the King, who was dressed in his ordinary uniform, tightly buttoned and strapped,” it is noted that he “spoke but little, pulled his moustache frequently, and addressed a word to Von Moltke, Roon, or Podbielski,” who looked frequently through a large telescope mounted on a tripod. “Moltke,” he