Even now, when I doze in my arm-chair, I can see those great warriors stream before methe green-jacketed chasseurs, the giant cuirassiers, Poniatowsky's lancers, the white-mantled dragoons, the nodding bearskins of the horse grenadiers.

My officer friends very courteously drove me to the hospital where I learned that my poor wounded chasseur Ballandreau had passed away in the night, and towards five o'clock, when their task was completed, they offered me tea and proposed to drive me to Barbizon.