The Duke of Tarentum, or Macdonald, as his old comrades prefer to call
him, was, as I could perceive, in the vilest of tempers. His grim,
Scotch face was like one of those grotesque door-knockers which one sees
in the Faubourg St Germain. We heard afterwards that the Emperor had
said in jest that he would have sent him against Wellington in the
South, but that he was afraid to trust him within the sound of the
pipes. Major Charpentier and I could plainly see that he was smouldering
with anger.
'Brigadier Gerard of the Hussars,' said he, with the air of the corporal
with the recruit.