I went and sat some hours with the Duke in his tent; M. de Bouillé was there. I heard a pattering noise, like rain, upon the canvas of the tent, but the eagerness of M. de Langereau to tell news soon destroyed that tranquil belief, for he came out of breath to say that the outposts were fighting, and were driven in, and a general attack might be expected. The Duke, who knew perfectly well what was going on, but had prudently and considerately concealed it from me, was quite angry at his indiscretion. I was panic-struck, and fairly clung to the Duke for comfort: I have wondered since how he could endure my tiresomeness. Whenever an officer whispered him and he gave an order I was in a tremor, upon which he said nothing should be done but openly, and he really gave his orders in a way that I might hear distinctly. He asked me to give the watchword, which I declined, and he with great gallantry gave _Elizabeth and Success_, or something to that purpose. The firing continued, and to prevent me listening to every volley, he ordered his band to strike up; they played till I went. He sent me an escort of several light dragoons; I reached Furnes safely some hours after midnight.[96] _Dover, 1st December, 1793._--Occupation and vexation prevented me from keeping anything like a journal during the whole of my stay in this odious country. I shall collect from memory all I can, whilst I sit watching the weathercock, for we are detained here by adverse winds and waves. From Furnes we went to Ostend; we embarked with Messrs. Hobart and Meyrick, and had a good passage of about twenty hours. Arrived at Grenier’s Hotel on the 1st of September, and from thence went to my father’s at Windsor. I had the happiness of finding him better, tolerably cheerful, but very weak. After staying a few days with him, I went to my little friends at Bignor,[97] all well, and happy to see me. From thence I went to Stanmer, where I was received with cordiality; Mr. Pelham was there, and of course enchanted at seeing me. From thence I went across the country to Battle, that detested spot where I had languished in solitude and discontent the best years of my life. I lodged at the Deanery, as I had a superstitious feeling as to passing another night within the same walls which confined me so long. I saw without a particle of satisfaction all the well-known objects, and felt restless until I got out of the place, for I felt half afraid of being detained by some accident. I found Sheffield Place dreary without my old friend; her corner and chair was occupied by her old favourite, Gibbon. The whole family were affected at seeing me; towards evening we grew more comfortable.