He railed at me now in the rasping, croaking,
Corsican voice which only made itself heard when he had lost his
self-control.
"You were always a buffoon," he cried. "What do you mean, you
numskull, by saying that they are Prussians?
How could Prussians be coming from the direction of France? You
have lost any wits that you ever possessed."
His words cut me like a whip, and yet we all felt toward the
Emperor as an old dog does to its master.
His kick is soon forgotten and forgiven. I would not argue or
justify myself. At the first glance I had seen the two white
stockings on the forelegs of the leading horse, and I knew well
that Count Stein was on its back.
For an instant the nine horsemen had halted and surveyed us. Now
they put spurs to their horses, and with a yell of triumph they
galloped down the road. They had recognised that their prey was
in their power.
At that swift advance all doubt had vanished. "By heavens, Sire,
it is indeed the Prussians!" cried Soult.
Lobau and Bertrand ran about the road like two frightened hens.
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