The reason of this apparently rather unnecessary solicitude is really not far to seek. Napoleon felt as confident of beating Wellington’s army that day as he had felt of beating Blücher’s army on the day but one before, provided only that it would accept battle. He believed, and he was justified in believing, that his army was superior to that opposed to him, in fighting capacity certainly, and even, possibly, in numbers. He trusted to Grouchy to keep the Prussians off, as he had on the day of Ligny trusted to Ney to protect him against the English, and he may also have thought it possible that Grouchy would arrive on the field in time to make the victory more crushing,—playing, in this way, much the same _rôle_ which Napoleon had marked out for Ney at Ligny. He accordingly feared nothing so much as the retreat of the English. That he supposed that Grouchy would cross the Dyle at Moustier is certainly a fair inference from Marbot’s report and letter, from which we have made extracts above.[673] That he should have been so certain about it, however, is remarkable, as he had given Grouchy no instructions[674] of any kind whatsoever since he had sent him the Bertrand order, and that left him entire freedom of action. Another very remarkable thing is that Napoleon should not have drawn from the fact that Wellington was awaiting battle the inference that he was expecting the assistance, and the powerful assistance, of Blücher.[675] At least it would seem pretty certain that he did not draw this inference, for he took neither of the steps which, if he had come to that conclusion, would seem to be dictated by common sense,—he neither attacked Wellington as early as he possibly could, nor did he do anything to make sure of Grouchy’s intervention until 10 A.M., when he sent him the order which we have given above.[676] If, on his return to the Caillou house at half-past three or thereabouts in the morning, he had sent an officer to order Grouchy to march towards the main army by the bridges of Moustier and Ottignies, he would have done only what the fact of Wellington’s confronting him, which he had just ascertained with his own eyes, should have led him to do. The rain ceased, according to Charras,[677] at 6 A.M.; Vaudoncourt,[678] a much earlier authority, puts it at 8 o’clock; Van Loben Sels[679] says that the rain had diminished at break of day, but it was not until 10 o’clock that the atmosphere became clear; Baudus,[680] who was at the battle on Soult’s staff, says the rain ceased towards 9 o’clock. We may probably assume that the rain had ceased by 8 o’clock, and that in another hour, had Napoleon so chosen, he might have begun the battle.