passed five hours by her friend's side, sometimes in remonstrance, sometimes talking cheerfully, oftener in silence, and terrified mental supplication. "I never let go her hand once," said the stout lady afterwards, "until after sunset, when the firing was over." Pauline, the bonne, was on her knees at church hard by, praying for son homme à elle.
When the noise of the cannonading was over, Mrs. O'Dowd issued out of Amelia's room into the parlour adjoining, where Jos sate with two emptied flasks, and courage entirely gone. Once or twice he had ventured into his sister's bed-room, looking very much alarmed, and as if he would say something. But the Major's wife kept her place, and he went away without disburthening himself of his speech. He was ashamed to tell her that he wanted to fly.
But when she made her appearance in the dining-room, where he sate in the twilight in the cheerless company of his empty champagne-bottles, he began to open his mind to her. "Mrs. O'Dowd," he said, "hadn't you better get Amelia ready?"
"Are you going to take her out a walk?" said the Major's lady; "sure she's too weak to stir."
"I—I've ordered the carriage," he said, "and—and post-horses; Isidor is gone for them," Jos continued.
"What do you want with driving to-night?" answered the lady. "Isn't she better on her bed? I've just got her to lie down."
"Get her up," said Jos; "she must get up, I say:" and he stamped his foot energetically. "I say the horses are ordered—yes, the horses are ordered. It's all over, and—"
"And what?" asked Mrs; O'Dowd.
"I'm off for Ghent," Jos answered. "Everybody is going; there's a place for you! "We shall start in half-an-hour." The Major's wife looked at him with infinite scorn. "I don't move till O'Dowd gives me the route," said she. "You may go if you like, Mr. Sedley; but, faith, Amelia and I stop here."
"She shall go" said Jos, with another stamp of his foot. Mrs. O'Dowd put herself with arms akimbo before the bed-room door.
"Is it her mother you're going to take her to?" she said; "or do you want to go to Mamma yourself, Mr. Sedley? Good marning—a pleasant journey to ye, sir. Bon voyage, as they say, and take my counsel, and shave off them mustachios, or they'll bring you into mischief."
"D—n!" yelled out Jos, wild with fear, rage, and mortification; and Isidor came in at this juncture, swearing in his turn. "Pas de chevaux, sacrebleu!" hissed out the furious domestic. All the horses were gone. Jos was not the only man in Brussels seized with panic that day.
But Jos's fears, great and cruel as they were already, were destined to increase to an almost frantic pitch before the night was over. It has been mentioned how Pauline, the bonne, had son homme à elle, also in the ranks of the army that had gone out to meet the Emperor Napoleon. This lover was a native of Brussels, and a Belgian hussar. The troops of his nation signalized themselves in this war for anything but courage, and young Van Cutsum, Pauline's admirer, was too good a soldier to disobey his Colonel's orders to run away. Whilst in garrison at Brussels young
