Wellington, then, was perfectly aware of the gathering of Napoleon’s forces upon the other side of the frontier; but they, like his own troops were scattered over a long front, and yet there was no indication whatever as to the point where Napoleon was likely to break through.  During the past three months large bodies of men had labored to restore the ruined fortifications of the frontier towns.  The moats had been cleared out and deepened, the walls repaired, and the sluices restored, so that in case of necessity a wide tract of country could be laid under water.

These precautions had been specially taken on the right of the British position where Wellington expected Napoleon’s attack, and the general calculated that with the aid of the obstacles so interposed to Napoleon’s advance, the troops stationed there would be able to check the tide of invasion until the whole army arrived to their assistance.  The country between Brussels and the frontier was reconnoitered, and engineer officers were employed in making sketches of all the positions that appeared likely to offer special advantages as battlefields for an army standing on the defense.

Among others the fields lying in front of the village of Waterloo were mapped, and the spot was specially marked by the duke as one to be occupied in case the enemy forced a way between the British and Prussian armies.  On the 12th of June the Duke of Wellington learned that Napoleon and the guards had left Paris for the North, and the next day the officer in command of the cavalry outposts reported that the pickets of French cavalry which had so long faced him had disappeared, and that he had learned from some French custom-house officers that hostilities were about to commence.

On the 15th of June, Ralph Conway had gone with Stapleton into Brussels as usual.  Everything was going on with its accustomed regularity.  A military band was playing in the park.  Numbers of well-appointed carriages, filled with well-dressed ladies, drove to and fro, and crowds of officers and civilians strolled under the trees, greeting their acquaintances and discussing the latest gossip of the town.  As to the coming of the French, the topic was so threadbare that no one alluded to it; and no stranger could have imagined from the aspect of the scene that three great armies were lying thirty or forty miles away in readiness to engage at any moment in a desperate struggle.  The great subject of talk was the ball that was to be given that evening by the Duchess of Richmond; this was expected altogether to outshine any of the other festivities that had taken place in Brussels during that gay season.  It was about half-past four in the afternoon that the young men saw Captain O’Connor approaching.

“Can you young fellows keep a secret?” he asked.

“I think so,” Ralph laughed.

“I suppose you are both going to the ball?”

“Of course we are.  We are both off duty, and Stapleton here is quite absorbed in the thought of the conquests he intends to make.”