He was living in the past entirely.
"Soldier," said Valmond in a loud voice, "remember Austerlitz.

The Heights of Pratzen are before you.

Play up the feet of the army." For an instant the old man did not move, and then a sullen sort of look came over his face.

He was not a drummer at Austerlitz, and for the instant he did not remember the tune the drummers played.
"Soldier," said Valmond softly, "with 'the Little Sword that Danced' play up the feet of the army." A light broke over the old man's face.

The swift look he cast on Valmond had no distrust now.