“I fancy, Monsieur,” said he, bowing, “that you have had a sharp ride also this morning. I have just arrived from Göding--four leagues--in less than an hour; and with all that, too late, I believe, to remedy what has occurred.” “What, then, has happened?” “Davoust has been tricked into an armistice, and suffered the Russians to pass the bridge. The Emperor Alexander has taken advantage of the negotiations with Austria, and got his army clear through; so, at least, it would seem. I saw Napoleon tear the despatch into fragments, and stamp his foot upon them. But here he comes.” The words were scarcely spoken when the Emperor came rapidly up, followed by his staff. He wore a gray surtout, trimmed with dark fur, and had his hands clasped within the cuffs of the coat. His face was pale as death, and save a slight contraction of his brows, there was nothing to show any appearance of displeasure. “Who brought the despatch from Göding?” “I did, Sire,” said the officer. “How are the roads, sir?” “Much cut up, and in one place a torrent has carried away part of a bridge.” “I knew it,--I knew it,” said he, bitterly; “it is too late. Duroc,” cried he, while the words seemed to come forth with a hissing sound, “did I not tell you, 'Grattez le Russe, et vous trouverez le Tartare!'” The words were graven in my memory from that hour; even yet, I can recall the very accents as when I heard them. “And you, sir,” said he, turning suddenly towards me, “you came from General Savary. Return to him with this letter. Have you written, Duroc? Well, you'll deliver this to General Savary at Holitsch. He may require you to proceed to Göding. Are you well mounted?” “Yes, Sire.” “Come, then, sir. I made you a captain yesterday; let us see if you can win your spurs to-day.” From the time I received the despatch to that in which I was in the saddle not more than five minutes elapsed. The idea of being chosen by the Emperor himself for a service was a proud one, and I resolved to acquit myself with credit. With what concert does one's heart beat to the free stride of a mettled charger! how does each bold plunge warm the blood and stir up the spirits! and as, careering free over hill and valley, we pass in our flight the clouds that drift above, how does the sense of freedom, realized as it is, impart a feeling of ecstasy to our minds! Our thoughts, revelling on the wayward liberty our course suggests, rise free and untrammelled from the doubts and cares of every-day life. Onward I went, and soon the old mill came in sight, rearing its ruined head amid the black desolation of the plain. I could not resist the impulse to see what had become of De Beauvais; and leading my horse into the kitchen, I hastened up the stairs and through the rooms. But all were deserted; the little chamber lay open, the granary too; but no one was there.