Thus all the superior officers being summoned on duty elsewhere, JosSedley was left in command of the little colony at Brussels, withAmelia invalided, Isidor, his Belgian servant, and the bonne, who wasmaid-of-all-work for the establishment, as a garrison under him. Thoughhe was disturbed in spirit, and his rest destroyed by Dobbin'sinterruption and the occurrences of the morning, Jos neverthelessremained for many hours in bed, wakeful and rolling about there untilhis usual hour of rising had arrived. The sun was high in the heavens,and our gallant friends of the --th miles on their march, before thecivilian appeared in his flowered dressing-gown at breakfast.

About George's absence, his brother-in-law was very easy in mind.Perhaps Jos was rather pleased in his heart that Osborne was gone, forduring George's presence, the other had played but a very secondarypart in the household, and Osborne did not scruple to show his contemptfor the stout civilian. But Emmy had always been good and attentive tohim. It was she who ministered to his comforts, who superintended thedishes that he liked, who walked or rode with him (as she had many, toomany, opportunities of doing, for where was George?) and who interposedher sweet face between his anger and her husband's scorn. Many timidremonstrances had she uttered to George in behalf of her brother, butthe former in his trenchant way cut these entreaties short. "I'm anhonest man," he said, "and if I have a feeling I show it, as an honestman will. How the deuce, my dear, would you have me behaverespectfully to such a fool as your brother?" So Jos was pleased withGeorge's absence. His plain hat, and gloves on a sideboard, and theidea that the owner was away, caused Jos I don't know what secretthrill of pleasure. "HE won't be troubling me this morning," Josthought, "with his dandified airs and his impudence."

"Put the Captain's hat into the ante-room," he said to Isidor, theservant.

"Perhaps he won't want it again," replied the lackey, looking knowinglyat his master. He hated George too, whose insolence towards him wasquite of the English sort.

"And ask if Madame is coming to breakfast," Mr. Sedley said with greatmajesty, ashamed to enter with a servant upon the subject of hisdislike for George. The truth is, he had abused his brother to thevalet a score of times before.

Alas! Madame could not come to breakfast, and cut the tartines thatMr. Jos liked. Madame was a great deal too ill, and had been in afrightful state ever since her husband's departure, so her bonne said.Jos showed his sympathy by pouring her out a large cup of tea It washis way of exhibiting kindness: and he improved on this; he not onlysent her breakfast, but he bethought him what delicacies she would mostlike for dinner.

Isidor, the valet, had looked on very sulkily, while Osborne's servantwas disposing of his master's baggage previous to the Captain'sdeparture: for in the first place he hated Mr. Osborne, whose conductto him, and to all inferiors, was generally overbearing (nor does thecontinental domestic like to be treated with insolence as our ownbetter-tempered servants do), and secondly, he was angry that so manyvaluables should be removed from under his hands, to fall into otherpeople's possession when the English discomfiture should arrive. Ofthis defeat he and a vast number of other persons in Brussels andBelgium did not make the slightest doubt. The almost universal beliefwas, that the Emperor would divide the Prussian and English armies,annihilate one after the other, and march into Brussels before threedays were over: when all the movables of his present masters, who wouldbe killed, or fugitives, or prisoners, would lawfully become theproperty of Monsieur Isidor.

As he helped Jos through his toilsome and complicated daily toilette,this faithful servant would calculate what he should do with the veryarticles with which he was decorating his master's person. He wouldmake a present of the silver essence-bottles and toilet knicknacks to ayoung lady of whom he was fond; and keep the English cutlery and thelarge ruby pin for himself. It would look very smart upon one of thefine frilled shirts, which, with the gold-laced cap and the froggedfrock coat, that might easily be cut down to suit his shape, and theCaptain's gold-headed cane, and the great double ring with the rubies,which he would have made into a pair of beautiful earrings, hecalculated would make a perfect Adonis of himself, and renderMademoiselle Reine an easy prey. "How those sleeve-buttons will suitme!" thought he, as he fixed a pair on the fat pudgy wrists of Mr.Sedley. "I long for sleeve-buttons; and the Captain's boots with brassspurs, in the next room, corbleu! what an effect they will make in theAllee Verte!" So while Monsieur Isidor with bodily fingers was holdingon to his master's nose, and shaving the lower part of Jos's face, hisimagination was rambling along the Green Avenue, dressed out in afrogged coat and lace, and in company with Mademoiselle Reine; he wasloitering in spirit on the banks, and examining the barges sailingslowly under the cool shadows of the trees by the canal, or refreshinghimself with a mug of Faro at the bench of a beer-house on the road toLaeken.

But Mr. Joseph Sedley, luckily for his own peace, no more knew what waspassing in his domestic's mind than the respected reader, and I suspectwhat John or Mary, whose wages we pay, think of ourselves. What ourservants think of us!--Did we know what our intimates and dearrelations thought of us, we should live in a world that we should beglad to quit, and in a frame of mind and a constant terror, that wouldbe perfectly unbearable. So Jos's man was marking his victim down, asyou see one of Mr. Paynter's assistants in Leadenhall Street ornamentan unconscious turtle with a placard on which is written, "Soupto-morrow."

Amelia's attendant was much less selfishly disposed. Few dependentscould come near that kind and gentle creature without paying theirusual tribute of loyalty and affection to her sweet and affectionatenature. And it is a fact that Pauline, the cook, consoled her mistressmore than anybody whom she saw on this wretched morning; for when shefound how Amelia remained for hours, silent, motionless, and haggard,by the windows in which she had placed herself to watch the lastbayonets of the column as it marched away, the honest girl took thelady's hand, and said, Tenez, Madame, est-ce qu'il n'est pas aussi al'armee, mon homme a moi? with which she burst into tears, and Ameliafalling into her arms, did likewise, and so each pitied and soothed theother.

Several times during the forenoon Mr. Jos's Isidor went from hislodgings into the town, and to the gates of the hotels and lodging-housesround about the Parc, where the English were congregated, andthere mingled with other valets, couriers, and lackeys, gathered suchnews as was abroad, and brought back bulletins for his master'sinformation. Almost all these gentlemen were in heart partisans of theEmperor, and had their opinions about the speedy end of the campaign.The Emperor's proclamation from Avesnes had been distributed everywhereplentifully in Brussels. "Soldiers!" it said, "this is theanniversary of Marengo and Friedland, by which the destinies of Europewere twice decided. Then, as after Austerlitz, as after Wagram, wewere too generous. We believed in the oaths and promises of princeswhom we suffered to remain upon their thrones. Let us march once moreto meet them. We and they, are we not still the same men? Soldiers!these same Prussians who are so arrogant to-day, were three to oneagainst you at Jena, and six to one at Montmirail. Those among you whowere prisoners in England can tell their comrades what frightfultorments they suffered on board the English hulks. Madmen! a momentof prosperity has blinded them, and if they enter into France it willbe to find a grave there!" But the partisans of the French prophesieda more speedy extermination of the Emperor's enemies than this; and itwas agreed on all hands that Prussians and British would never returnexcept as prisoners in the rear of the conquering army.

These opinions in the course of the day were brought to operate uponMr. Sedley. He was told that the Duke of Wellington had gone to tryand rally his army, the advance of which had been utterly crushed thenight before.

"Crushed, psha!" said Jos, whose heart was pretty stout atbreakfast-time. "The Duke has gone to beat the Emperor as he hasbeaten all his generals before."

"His papers are burned, his effects are removed, and his quarters arebeing got ready for the Duke of Dalmatia," Jos's informant replied. "Ihad it from his own maitre d'hotel. Milor Duc de Richemont's peopleare packing up everything. His Grace has fled already, and the Duchessis only waiting to see the plate packed to join the King of France atOstend."

"The King of France is at Ghent, fellow," replied Jos, affectingincredulity.

"He fled last night to Bruges, and embarks today from Ostend. The Ducde Berri is taken prisoner. Those who wish to be safe had better gosoon, for the dykes will be opened to-morrow, and who can fly when thewhole country is under water?"

"Nonsense, sir, we are three to one, sir, against any force Boney canbring into the field," Mr. Sedley objected; "the Austrians and theRussians are on their march. He must, he shall be crushed," Jos said,slapping his hand on the table.

"The Prussians were three to one at Jena, and he took their army andkingdom in a week. They were six to one at Montmirail, and hescattered them like sheep. The Austrian army is coming, but with theEmpress and the King of Rome at its head; and the Russians, bah! theRussians will withdraw. No quarter is to be given to the English, onaccount of their cruelty to our braves on board the infamous pontoons.Look here, here it is in black and white. Here's the proclamation ofhis Majesty the Emperor and King," said the now declared partisan ofNapoleon, and taking the document from his pocket, Isidor sternlythrust it into his master's face, and already looked upon the froggedcoat and valuables as his own spoil.

Jos was, if not seriously alarmed as yet, at least considerablydisturbed in mind. "Give me my coat and cap, sir," said he, "and followme. I will go myself and learn the truth of these reports." Isidor wasfurious as Jos put on the braided frock. "Milor had better not wearthat military coat," said he; "the Frenchmen have sworn not to givequarter to a single British soldier."

"Silence, sirrah!" said Jos, with a resolute countenance still, andthrust his arm into the sleeve with indomitable resolution, in theperformance of which heroic act he was found by Mrs. Rawdon Crawley,who at this juncture came up to visit Amelia, and entered withoutringing at the antechamber door.

Rebecca was dressed very neatly and smartly, as usual: her quiet sleepafter Rawdon's departure had refreshed her, and her pink smiling cheekswere quite pleasant to look at, in a town and on a day when everybodyelse's countenance wore the appearance of the deepest anxiety andgloom. She laughed at the attitude in which Jos was discovered, andthe struggles and convulsions with which the stout gentleman thrusthimself into the braided coat.

"Are you preparing to join the army, Mr. Joseph?" she said. "Is thereto be nobody left in Brussels to protect us poor women?" Jos succeededin plunging into the coat, and came forward blushing and stuttering outexcuses to his fair visitor. "How was she after the events of themorning--after the fatigues of the ball the night before?" MonsieurIsidor disappeared into his master's adjacent bedroom, bearing off theflowered dressing-gown.

"How good of you to ask," said she, pressing one of his hands in bothher own. "How cool and collected you look when everybody else isfrightened! How is our dear little Emmy? It must have been an awful,awful parting."

"Tremendous," Jos said.

"You men can bear anything," replied the lady. "Parting or danger arenothing to you. Own now that you were going to join the army and leaveus to our fate. I know you were--something tells me you were. I was sofrightened, when the thought came into my head (for I do sometimesthink of you when I am alone, Mr. Joseph), that I ran off immediatelyto beg and entreat you not to fly from us."

This speech might be interpreted, "My dear sir, should an accidentbefall the army, and a retreat be necessary, you have a verycomfortable carriage, in which I propose to take a seat." I don't knowwhether Jos understood the words in this sense. But he was profoundlymortified by the lady's inattention to him during their stay atBrussels. He had never been presented to any of Rawdon Crawley's greatacquaintances: he had scarcely been invited to Rebecca's parties; forhe was too timid to play much, and his presence bored George and Rawdonequally, who neither of them, perhaps, liked to have a witness of theamusements in which the pair chose to indulge. "Ah!" thought Jos, "nowshe wants me she comes to me. When there is nobody else in the way shecan think about old Joseph Sedley!" But besides these doubts he feltflattered at the idea Rebecca expressed of his courage.

He blushed a good deal, and put on an air of importance. "I should liketo see the action," he said. "Every man of any spirit would, you know.I've seen a little service in India, but nothing on this grand scale."

"You men would sacrifice anything for a pleasure," Rebecca answered."Captain Crawley left me this morning as gay as if he were going to ahunting party. What does he care? What do any of you care for theagonies and tortures of a poor forsaken woman? (I wonder whether hecould really have been going to the troops, this great lazy gourmand?)Oh! dear Mr. Sedley, I have come to you for comfort--for consolation.I have been on my knees all the morning. I tremble at the frightfuldanger into which our husbands, our friends, our brave troops andallies, are rushing. And I come here for shelter, and find another ofmy friends--the last remaining to me--bent upon plunging into thedreadful scene!"

"My dear madam," Jos replied, now beginning to be quite soothed, "don'tbe alarmed. I only said I should like to go--what Briton would not?But my duty keeps me here: I can't leave that poor creature in thenext room." And he pointed with his finger to the door of the chamberin which Amelia was.

"Good noble brother!" Rebecca said, putting her handkerchief to hereyes, and smelling the eau-de-cologne with which it was scented. "Ihave done you injustice: you have got a heart. I thought you had not."

"O, upon my honour!" Jos said, making a motion as if he would lay hishand upon the spot in question. "You do me injustice, indeed youdo--my dear Mrs. Crawley."

"I do, now your heart is true to your sister. But I remember two yearsago--when it was false to me!" Rebecca said, fixing her eyes upon himfor an instant, and then turning away into the window.

Jos blushed violently. That organ which he was accused by Rebecca ofnot possessing began to thump tumultuously. He recalled the days whenhe had fled from her, and the passion which had once inflamed him--thedays when he had driven her in his curricle: when she had knit thegreen purse for him: when he had sate enraptured gazing at her whitearms and bright eyes.

"I know you think me ungrateful," Rebecca continued, coming out of thewindow, and once more looking at him and addressing him in a lowtremulous voice. "Your coldness, your averted looks, your manner whenwe have met of late--when I came in just now, all proved it to me. Butwere there no reasons why I should avoid you? Let your own heart answerthat question. Do you think my husband was too much inclined towelcome you? The only unkind words I have ever had from him (I will doCaptain Crawley that justice) have been about you--and most cruel,cruel words they were."

"Good gracious! what have I done?" asked Jos in a flurry of pleasureand perplexity; "what have I done--to--to--?"

"Is jealousy nothing?" said Rebecca. "He makes me miserable about you.And whatever it might have been once--my heart is all his. I aminnocent now. Am I not, Mr. Sedley?"

All Jos's blood tingled with delight, as he surveyed this victim to hisattractions. A few adroit words, one or two knowing tender glances ofthe eyes, and his heart was inflamed again and his doubts andsuspicions forgotten. From Solomon downwards, have not wiser men thanhe been cajoled and befooled by women? "If the worst comes to theworst," Becky thought, "my retreat is secure; and I have a right-handseat in the barouche."

There is no knowing into what declarations of love and ardour thetumultuous passions of Mr. Joseph might have led him, if Isidor thevalet had not made his reappearance at this minute, and begun to busyhimself about the domestic affairs. Jos, who was just going to gaspout an avowal, choked almost with the emotion that he was obliged torestrain. Rebecca too bethought her that it was time she should go inand comfort her dearest Amelia. "Au revoir," she said, kissing herhand to Mr. Joseph, and tapped gently at the door of his sister'sapartment. As she entered and closed the door on herself, he sank downin a chair, and gazed and sighed and puffed portentously. "That coatis very tight for Milor," Isidor said, still having his eye on thefrogs; but his master heard him not: his thoughts were elsewhere: nowglowing, maddening, upon the contemplation of the enchanting Rebecca:anon shrinking guiltily before the vision of the jealous RawdonCrawley, with his curling, fierce mustachios, and his terrible duellingpistols loaded and cocked.

Rebecca's appearance struck Amelia with terror, and made her shrinkback. It recalled her to the world and the remembrance of yesterday.In the overpowering fears about to-morrow she had forgottenRebecca--jealousy--everything except that her husband was gone and wasin danger. Until this dauntless worldling came in and broke the spell,and lifted the latch, we too have forborne to enter into that sadchamber. How long had that poor girl been on her knees! what hours ofspeechless prayer and bitter prostration had she passed there! Thewar-chroniclers who write brilliant stories of fight and triumphscarcely tell us of these. These are too mean parts of the pageant:and you don't hear widows' cries or mothers' sobs in the midst of theshouts and jubilation in the great Chorus of Victory. And yet when wasthe time that such have not cried out: heart-broken, humbleprotestants, unheard in the uproar of the triumph!

After the first movement of terror in Amelia's mind--when Rebecca'sgreen eyes lighted upon her, and rustling in her fresh silks andbrilliant ornaments, the latter tripped up with extended arms toembrace her--a feeling of anger succeeded, and from being deadly palebefore, her face flushed up red, and she returned Rebecca's look aftera moment with a steadiness which surprised and somewhat abashed herrival.

"Dearest Amelia, you are very unwell," the visitor said, putting forthher hand to take Amelia's. "What is it? I could not rest until I knewhow you were."

Amelia drew back her hand--never since her life began had that gentlesoul refused to believe or to answer any demonstration of good-will oraffection. But she drew back her hand, and trembled all over. "Whyare you here, Rebecca?" she said, still looking at her solemnly withher large eyes. These glances troubled her visitor.

"She must have seen him give me the letter at the ball," Rebeccathought. "Don't be agitated, dear Amelia," she said, looking down. "Icame but to see if I could--if you were well."

"Are you well?" said Amelia. "I dare say you are. You don't love yourhusband. You would not be here if you did. Tell me, Rebecca, did Iever do you anything but kindness?"

"Indeed, Amelia, no," the other said, still hanging down her head.

"When you were quite poor, who was it that befriended you? Was I not asister to you? You saw us all in happier days before he married me. Iwas all in all then to him; or would he have given up his fortune, hisfamily, as he nobly did to make me happy? Why did you come between mylove and me? Who sent you to separate those whom God joined, and takemy darling's heart from me--my own husband? Do you think you couldlove him as I did? His love was everything to me. You knew it, andwanted to rob me of it. For shame, Rebecca; bad and wickedwoman--false friend and false wife."

"Amelia, I protest before God, I have done my husband no wrong,"Rebecca said, turning from her.

"Have you done me no wrong, Rebecca? You did not succeed, but youtried. Ask your heart if you did not."

She knows nothing, Rebecca thought.

"He came back to me. I knew he would. I knew that no falsehood, noflattery, could keep him from me long. I knew he would come. I prayedso that he should."

The poor girl spoke these words with a spirit and volubility whichRebecca had never before seen in her, and before which the latter wasquite dumb. "But what have I done to you," she continued in a morepitiful tone, "that you should try and take him from me? I had him butfor six weeks. You might have spared me those, Rebecca. And yet, fromthe very first day of our wedding, you came and blighted it. Now he isgone, are you come to see how unhappy I am?" she continued. "You mademe wretched enough for the past fortnight: you might have spared meto-day."

"I--I never came here," interposed Rebecca, with unlucky truth.

"No. You didn't come. You took him away. Are you come to fetch himfrom me?" she continued in a wilder tone. "He was here, but he is gonenow. There on that very sofa he sate. Don't touch it. We sate andtalked there. I was on his knee, and my arms were round his neck, andwe said 'Our Father.' Yes, he was here: and they came and took himaway, but he promised me to come back."

"He will come back, my dear," said Rebecca, touched in spite of herself.

"Look," said Amelia, "this is his sash--isn't it a pretty colour?" andshe took up the fringe and kissed it. She had tied it round her waistat some part of the day. She had forgotten her anger, her jealousy,the very presence of her rival seemingly. For she walked silently andalmost with a smile on her face, towards the bed, and began to smoothdown George's pillow.

Rebecca walked, too, silently away. "How is Amelia?" asked Jos, whostill held his position in the chair.

"There should be somebody with her," said Rebecca. "I think she is veryunwell": and she went away with a very grave face, refusing Mr.Sedley's entreaties that she would stay and partake of the early dinnerwhich he had ordered.

Rebecca was of a good-natured and obliging disposition; and she likedAmelia rather than otherwise. Even her hard words, reproachful as theywere, were complimentary--the groans of a person stinging under defeat.Meeting Mrs. O'Dowd, whom the Dean's sermons had by no means comforted,and who was walking very disconsolately in the Parc, Rebecca accostedthe latter, rather to the surprise of the Major's wife, who was notaccustomed to such marks of politeness from Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, andinforming her that poor little Mrs. Osborne was in a desperatecondition, and almost mad with grief, sent off the good-naturedIrishwoman straight to see if she could console her young favourite.

"I've cares of my own enough," Mrs. O'Dowd said, gravely, "and Ithought poor Amelia would be little wanting for company this day. Butif she's so bad as you say, and you can't attend to her, who used to beso fond of her, faith I'll see if I can be of service. And so goodmarning to ye, Madam"; with which speech and a toss of her head, thelady of the repayther took a farewell of Mrs. Crawley, whose companyshe by no means courted.

Becky watched her marching off, with a smile on her lip. She had thekeenest sense of humour, and the Parthian look which the retreatingMrs. O'Dowd flung over her shoulder almost upset Mrs. Crawley'sgravity. "My service to ye, me fine Madam, and I'm glad to see ye socheerful," thought Peggy. "It's not YOU that will cry your eyes outwith grief, anyway." And with this she passed on, and speedily foundher way to Mrs. Osborne's lodgings.

The poor soul was still at the bedside, where Rebecca had left her, andstood almost crazy with grief. The Major's wife, a stronger-mindedwoman, endeavoured her best to comfort her young friend. "You must bearup, Amelia, dear," she said kindly, "for he mustn't find you ill whenhe sends for you after the victory. It's not you are the only womanthat are in the hands of God this day."

"I know that. I am very wicked, very weak," Amelia said. She knew herown weakness well enough. The presence of the more resolute friendchecked it, however; and she was the better of this control andcompany. They went on till two o'clock; their hearts were with thecolumn as it marched farther and farther away. Dreadful doubt andanguish--prayers and fears and griefs unspeakable--followed theregiment. It was the women's tribute to the war. It taxes both alike,and takes the blood of the men, and the tears of the women.

At half-past two, an event occurred of daily importance to Mr. Joseph:the dinner-hour arrived. Warriors may fight and perish, but he mustdine. He came into Amelia's room to see if he could coax her to sharethat meal. "Try," said he; "the soup is very good. Do try, Emmy," andhe kissed her hand. Except when she was married, he had not done somuch for years before. "You are very good and kind, Joseph," she said."Everybody is, but, if you please, I will stay in my room to-day."

The savour of the soup, however, was agreeable to Mrs. O'Dowd'snostrils: and she thought she would bear Mr. Jos company. So the twosate down to their meal. "God bless the meat," said the Major's wife,solemnly: she was thinking of her honest Mick, riding at the head ofhis regiment: "'Tis but a bad dinner those poor boys will get to-day,"she said, with a sigh, and then, like a philosopher, fell to.

Jos's spirits rose with his meal. He would drink the regiment'shealth; or, indeed, take any other excuse to indulge in a glass ofchampagne. "We'll drink to O'Dowd and the brave --th," said he, bowinggallantly to his guest. "Hey, Mrs. O'Dowd? Fill Mrs. O'Dowd's glass,Isidor."

But all of a sudden, Isidor started, and the Major's wife laid down herknife and fork. The windows of the room were open, and lookedsouthward, and a dull distant sound came over the sun-lighted roofsfrom that direction. "What is it?" said Jos. "Why don't you pour, yourascal?"

"Cest le feu!" said Isidor, running to the balcony.

"God defend us; it's cannon!" Mrs. O'Dowd cried, starting up, andfollowed too to the window. A thousand pale and anxious faces mighthave been seen looking from other casements. And presently it seemedas if the whole population of the city rushed into the streets.