So elated was I that I no
longer waited to be asked, but as I rode through the army I
shouted to right and left,
"General Blucher! General Blucher!" and every man pointed me
onward and cleared a path to let me pass.
There are times when the most supreme impudence is the highest
wisdom. But discretion must also be used, and I must admit that
I became indiscreet. For as I rode upon my way, ever nearer to
the fighting line, a Prussian officer of Uhlans gripped my bridle
and pointed to a group of men who stood near a burning farm.
"There is Marshal Blucher. Deliver your message!" said he, and
sure enough, my terrible old grey-whiskered veteran was there
within a pistol-shot, his eyes turned in my direction.
But the good guardian angel did not desert me.
Quick as a flash there came into my memory the name of the
general who commanded the advance of the Prussians.
{illust. caption = "There is Marshal Blucher. Deliver your
message!"}
"General Bulow!" I cried. The Uhlan let go my bridle.
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