found it thick and well adapted for our reception. Having pitched upon a convenient spot, we deposited our knapsacks, disburdened ourselves of our apples, &c. and after refreshing ourselves with a little biscuit and sausage, together with a dessert of fruit which we could now afford, we betook ourselves to rest. I had not closed an eye before since I had received the hurt; but at that moment I no sooner extended my weary limbs upon the ground, than I was in a profound sleep; nor did I awake until roused by my comrades, who were alarmed by the voices of two men, who came to work adjacent to our concealment. We could hear them so very distinctly, that we were of opinion they could not be distant more than fifty paces; their conversation was chiefly respecting Charleville and Mezieres; they continued their work until sun-set.
“From hearing them mention those towns so repeatedly, in addition to other parts of the conversation, we were convinced of our being too far to the northward of our proper course. Travelling by night, frequently extremely dark, though we had an excellent compass, it was impossible to avoid sometimes erring a little, more especially whenever a river turned us out of our proper direction. Those labourers being gone, we commenced our preparations, and at the usual time proceeded forward; my knee rather painful and stiff, which in a great measure gradually decreased by exercising it.
“At midnight we came directly on a small town, situated in a valley, without perceiving it until it was too late to return. As it was an open town we did not apprehend any danger, particularly at so late an hour. We however passed through it as quick as possible, without meeting a soul until we got into the fauxbourg, where we met a peasant on horseback. Mr. Ashworth asked him the name of the small town or village we had just passed; he replied Neuville. We thanked him, and continued our route. We travelled a considerable distance this night, having fruit to abate our thirst, which was in general very great; we often experienced a dreadful scarcity of water.”
In the night of Sept. 5th, our travellers passed through the town of Moncornet, crossed an inconsiderable river called the Serre, and again halted in a wood, where they were alarmed the following afternoon by the barking and yelling of a fowler’s dog, which, barked precipitately on discovering them, leading its master almost in a direct line towards them. The joy they felt at this hair-breadth escape, can only be conceived by people who have been in a similar situation. The ensuing night was excessively dark, and everyone of the party had a vast number of falls; they, however, managed to cross the Oise, a very serpentine river, in two different places, and took
