IT was early June in the year eighteen hundred and fifteen, and the warm sun shone down upon the little farmhouse of Monsieur le Grand and touched the old red brick walls lovingly. The bees hummed in the garden, and there was no other sound except the lowing of the cattle and the occasional merry noise of children's laughter. It all seemed very peaceful and quiet, and yet a short distance away two great armies were preparing for the great battle which was shortly afterwards fought upon the field of Waterloo.…
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