"Enough! enough!" cried Blucher. "Gneisenau, send an
aide-de-camp to Wellington and tell him to rely upon me to the
full. Come on, gentlemen, we have our work to do!" He bustled
eagerly out of the room with all his staff clanking behind him,
while two orderlies carried the English messenger to the care of
the surgeon.
Gneisenau, the Chief of the Staff, had lingered behind for an
instant, and he laid his hand upon one of the aides- de-camp.
The fellow had attracted my attention, for I have always a quick
eye for a fine man. He was tall and slender, the very model of a
horseman; indeed, there was something in his appearance which
made it not unlike my own. His face was dark and as keen as that
of a hawk, with fierce black eyes under thick, shaggy brows, and
a moustache which would have put him in the crack squadron of my
Hussars. He wore a green coat with white facings, and a
horse-hair helmet--a Dragoon, as I conjectured, and as dashing a
cavalier as one would wish to have at the end of one's
sword-point.
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