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Updated: June 2, 2025
This left at his disposal a fair two hours more of darkness: November nights are long and black in Paris; it would hardly be even moderately light before seven o'clock. But that were a respite none too long for Lanyard's necessity; he must think swiftly in contemplation of instant action were he to extricate himself without the Pack's knowledge and consent.
Presently Tump Pack's form outlined itself in the yellow obscurity, groping toward Peter. He still held his pistol, but it swung at his side. He called Peter's name in the strained voice of a man struggling not to cough: "Peter is Mr. Bobbs done 'rested Cissie?" Peter could hardly talk himself. "Don't know. Looks like it." The two negroes stared at each other through the dust. "Fuh Gawd's sake!
But that might more readily have been accomplished by telegraphing or telephoning the Pack's confreres, Wertheimer's associates in England! Lanyard gave it up, admitting his inability to trump up any sane excuse for such conduct; but the riddle continued to fret his mind without respite.
Yet in actual time it was soon overhand dawn scarcely breaking when the Morays with the other regiments of Pack's brigade filed out of the park and fell into stride on the road which leads southward to Charleroi. In this record it would be immaterial to describe either our march or the since-famous engagement which terminated it.
Half-way across the open, he saw where the leader had swung out from the trail and the others of the pack had crowded about him, to be urged on by the lashings of the man's whip. Other signs of the pack's growing exhaustion followed close. The man now traveled beside the sledge where the trail was rough, and rode where it was smooth and hard.
Peter's prolonged silence aroused certain suspicions in the old negress. She glanced at her son out of the tail of her eyes. "Cissie Dildine is Tump Pack's gal," she stated defensively, with the jealousy all mothers feel toward all sons. A diversion in the shouts of the children up the mean street and a sudden furious barking of dogs drew Peter from the discussion.
He saluted, and strode away into the darkness. The opportunity I promised him never came. At eleven o'clock next morning we began our withdrawal, and within twenty-four hours the battle of Waterloo had begun. In one of the most heroic feats of that day the famous resistance of Pack's brigade Mr. Urquhart was among the first to fall.
Here Pack's Brigade was forming in the Place Royale; and a crowd of staff officers dictating orders, and writing hurriedly on the drum-heads, were also seen. A troop of dragoons stood beside their horses at the door of the Belle Vue, and several grooms with led horses walked to and fro. "Ride forward, sir, to the Bois de Cambre," said Picton, "and pivot the troops on the road to Mont St. Jean.
And when he had levied on the stock of a second-hand clothing shop and a chemist's, he felt tolerably satisfied it would need sharp eyes whether the Pack's or the Prefecture's to identify "Pierre Lamier" with either Michael Lanyard or the Lone Wolf.
"But that was in the war-time, Mary, and even the Queen's ships are not now kept out for so long a period, while merchant vessels return every year, and sometimes from short voyages much oftener. And then think of all the curiosities I should bring home; I should delight in collecting them for you and Aunt Sally, or to add to Uncle Pack's museum."
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