In Which Jos Takes Flight, and the War Is Brought to a CloseWe of peaceful London City have never beheld--and please God never shall witness--such a scene of hurry and alarm, as that which Brussels presented.Crowds rushed to the Namur gate, from which direction the noise proceeded, and many rode along the level chaussee, to be in advance of any intelligence from the army.Each man asked his neighbour for news; and even great English lords and ladies condescended to speak to persons whom they did not know.The friends of the French went abroad, wild with excitement, and prophesying the triumph of their Emperor.The merchants closed their shops, and came out to swell the general chorus of alarm and clamour.Women rushed to the churches, and crowded the chapels, and knelt and prayed on the flags and steps.The dull sound of the cannon went on rolling, rolling.Presently carriages with travellers began to leave the town, galloping away by the Ghent barrier.The prophecies of the French partisans began to pass for facts."He has cut the armies in two," it was said."He is marching straight on Brussels.He will overpower the English, and be here to-night." "He will overpower the English," shrieked Isidor to his master, "and will be here to-night." The man bounded in and out from the lodgings to the street, always returning with some fresh particulars of disaster.Jos's face grew paler and paler.Alarm began to take entire possession of the stout civilian.All the champagne he drank brought no courage to him.Before sunset he was worked up to such a pitch of nervousness as gratified his friend Isidor to behold, who now counted surely upon the spoils of the owner of the laced coat.
The women were away all this time.After hearing the firing for a moment, the stout Major's wife bethought her of her friend in the next chamber, and ran in to watch, and if possible to console, Amelia.The idea that she had that helpless and gentle creature to protect, gave additional strength to the natural courage of the honest Irishwoman.She passed five hours by her friend's side, sometimes in remonstrance, sometimes talking cheerfully, oftener in silence and terrified mental supplication."Inever 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 a 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 bedroom, 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 for 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."Idon'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 bedroom 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, sacre bleu!" 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 a 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 signalised 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 Regulus (he had been born in the revolutionary times) found his great comfort, and passed almost all his leisure moments, in Pauline's kitchen; and it was with pockets and holsters crammed full of good things from her larder, that he had take leave of his weeping sweetheart, to proceed upon the campaign a few days before.
As far as his regiment was concerned, this campaign was over now.They had formed a part of the division under the command of his Sovereign apparent, the Prince of Orange, and as respected length of swords and mustachios, and the richness of uniform and equipments, Regulus and his comrades looked to be as gallant a body of men as ever trumpet sounded for.
