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Updated: June 28, 2025
I looked round, thinking, "That is Buche calling me." In a moment I saw him at the door of a woodshed, crossing bayonets with five or six of our men. I caught sight of Zébédé at that same instant, as our company was in that corner, and rushing to Buche's assistance, I shouted, "Zébédé!" Parting the combatants, I asked Buche what was the matter. "They want to murder my prisoners!" said he.
An officer who joined us, said that the Emperor had set out for Paris, and that King Jerome had just taken command of the army. Buche's scalp was laid completely open, but the bone was not injured, and the blood ran down his cheeks. He bound up his head with his handkerchief. After that we saw no more Prussians. About two o'clock in the morning, we were so weary we could hardly take another step.
Buche's eyes sparkled like those of a cat, as he sat on the road-side, with his knapsack opened on the slope, slowly sharpening his sabre, and trying the edge on the toe of his shoe. Others were setting their bayonets and adjusting their flints, as they always do when on the eve of a battle.
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