Under Wellington's Command: A Tale of the Peninsular War

  Chapter 12: Fuentes D'Onoro.

  In the early spring Soult, who was besieging Cadiz, received ordersfrom Napoleon to cooperate with Massena and, although ignorant ofthe latter's plans, and even of his position, prepared to do so atonce. He crushed the Spanish force on the Gebora; captured Badajoz,owing to the treachery and cowardice of its commander; and wasmoving north, when the news reached him that Massena was fallingback. The latter's position had, indeed, become untenable. His armywas wasted by sickness; and famine threatened it, for the suppliesobtainable from the country round had now been exhausted.Wellington was, as he knew from his agents in the Portuguesegovernment, receiving reinforcements; and would shortly be in aposition to assume the offensive.

  The discipline in the French army under Massena had been greatlyinjured by its long inactivity. The only news he received as toSoult's movements was that he was near Badajoz; therefore, thefirst week in March he began his retreat, by sending off 10,000sick and all his stores to Thomar. Then he began to fall back.Thick weather favoured him, and Ney assembled a large force nearLeiria, as if to advance against the British position. Two othercorps left Santarem, on the night of the fifth, and retired toThomar. The rest of the army moved by other routes.

  For four days Wellington, although discovering that a retreat wasin progress, was unable to ascertain by which line Massena wasreally retiring. As soon as this point was cleared up, he orderedBeresford to concentrate near Abrantes; while he himself followedthe line the main body of the French army seemed to be taking. Itwas soon found that they were concentrating at Pombal, with theapparent intention of crossing the Mondego at Coimbra; whereby theywould have obtained a fresh and formidable position behind theMondego, with the rich and untouched country between that river andthe Douro, upon which they could have subsisted for a long time.

  Therefore, calling back the troops that were already on the marchto relieve Badajos, which had not yet surrendered, he advanced withall speed upon Pombal, his object being to force the French to takethe line of retreat through Miranda for the frontier, and so toprevent him from crossing the Mondego.

  Ney commanded the rear guard, and carried out the operation withthe same mixture of vigour, valour, and prudence with which he,afterwards, performed the same duty to the French army on itsretreat from Moscow. He fought at Pombal and at Redinha, and thatso strenuously that, had it not been for Trant, Wilson, and otherpartisans who defended all the fords and bridges, Massena wouldhave been able to have crossed the Mondego. Wellington howeverturned, one by one, the positions occupied by Ney; and Massena,believing that the force at Coimbra was far stronger than it reallywas, changed his plans and took up a position at Cazal Nova.

  Here he left Ney and marched for Miranda but, although Ney coveredthe movement with admirable skill, disputing every ridge and postof vantage, the British pressed forward so hotly that Massena wasobliged to destroy all his baggage and ammunition. Ney rashlyremained on the east side of the river Cerra, in front of thevillage of Foz d'Aronce and, being attacked suddenly, was drivenacross the river with a loss of 500 men; many being drowned bymissing the fords, and others crushed to death in the passage.However, Ney held the line of the river, blew up the bridge, andhis division withdrew in good order.

  Massena tarnished the reputation, gained by the manner in which hehad drawn off his army from its dangerous position, by the ruthlessspirit with which the operation was conducted; covering his retreatby burning every village through which he passed, and even orderingthe town of Leiria to be destroyed, although altogether out of theline he was following.

  After this fight the British pursuit slackened somewhat, forWellington received the news of the surrender of Badajoz and,seeing that Portugal was thus open to invasion by Soult, on thesouth, despatched Cole's division to join that of Beresford;although this left him inferior in force to the army he waspursuing. The advance was retarded by the necessity of makingbridges across the Cerra, which was now in flood, and the delayenabled Massena to fall back unmolested to Guarda; where heintended to halt, and then to move to Coria, whence he could havemarched to the Tagus, effected a junction with Soult, and be in aposition to advance again upon Lisbon, with a larger force thanever. He had, however, throughout been thwarted by the factiousdisobedience of his lieutenants Ney, Regnier, Brouet, Montbrun, andJunot; and this feeling now broke into open disobedience and, whileNey absolutely defied his authority, the others were so disobedientthat fierce and angry personal altercations took place.

  Massena removed Ney from his command. His own movements were,however, altogether disarranged by two British divisions, marchingover the mountains by paths deemed altogether impassable fortroops; which compelled him to abandon his intention of marchingsouth, and to retire to Sabuga on the Coa. Here he was attacked.Regnier's corps, which covered the position, was beaten with heavyloss but, owing to the combinations--which would have cut Massenaoff from Ciudad Rodrigo--failing, from some of the columns goingaltogether astray in a thick fog, Massena gained that town with hisarmy. He had lost in battle, from disease, or taken prisoners,30,000 men since the day when, confident that he was going to driveWellington to take refuge on board his ships, he had advanced fromthat town.

  Even now he did not feel safe, though rejoined by a large number ofconvalescents; and, drawing rations for his troops from the storesof the citadel, he retired with the army to Salamanca. Havingreorganized his force, procured fresh horses for his guns, andrested the troops for a few days; Massena advanced to cover CiudadRodrigo, and to raise the siege of Almeida--which Wellington hadbegun without loss of time--and, with upwards of 50,000 men,Massena attacked the British at Fuentes d'Onoro.

  Plan of the Battle of Fuentes d'Onoro.]

  The fight was long and obstinate, and the French succeeded indriving back the British right; but failed in a series of desperateattempts to carry the village of Fuentes. Both sides claimed thebattle as a victory, but the British with the greater ground; forMassena fell back across the Aqueda, having failed to relieveAlmeida; whose garrison, by a well-planned night march, succeededin passing through the besieging force, and effected their retreatwith but small loss, the town falling into the possession of theBritish.

  Terence had come up, after a series of long marches, on the daybefore the battle. His arrival was very opportune, for thePortuguese troops with Wellington were completely demoralized, andexhausted, by the failure of their government to supply them withfood, pay, or clothes. So deplorable was their state thatWellington had been obliged to disband the militia regiments, andgreat numbers of desertions had taken place from the regulartroops.

  The regiment had been stationed on the British right. Here thefighting had been very severe. The French cavalry force wasenormously superior to the British, who had but a thousand troopersin the field. These were driven back by the French, and Ramsay'sbattery of horse artillery was cut off. But Ramsay placed himselfat the head of his battery and, at full gallop, dashed through theFrench infantry and cavalry, and succeeded in regaining hisfriends.

  The two battalions of the Minho regiment, who were posted in awood, defended themselves with the greatest resolution against anattack by vastly superior numbers; until the French, advancing oneach side of the wood, had cut them off from the rest of thedivision. Then a bugle call summoned the men to assemble at therear of the wood and, forming squares, the two battalions marchedout.

  Twelve French guns played upon them and, time after time, masses ofcavalry swept down on them but, filling up the gaps in their ranks,they pressed on; charged two French regiments, at the double, thatendeavoured to block their way; burst a path through them, andsucceeded in rejoining the retiring division, which received themwith a burst of hearty cheering. Two hundred had fallen, in theshort time that had elapsed since they left the wood.

  Terence had been in the centre of one of the squares but, just asthey were breaking through the French ranks, he had ridden to therear face; and called upon the men to turn and repulse a body ofFrench cavalry, that was charging
down upon them. At this moment abullet struck his horse in the flank. Maddened with the suddenpain, the animal sprang forward, broke through the ranks of thePortuguese in front of it and, before Terence could recover itscommand, dashed at full speed among the French cavalry. Before hecould strike a blow in defence, Terence was cut down. As he fellthe cavalry passed over him but, fortunately, the impetus of hischarge had carried him nearly through their ranks before he fell;and the horses of the rear rank leapt over his body, withouttouching him. It was the force of the blow that had felled him for,in the hurry of striking, the trooper's sword had partly turned,and it was with the flat rather than the edge that he was struck.

  Although half stunned with the blow and the heavy fall, he did notaltogether lose consciousness. He heard, as he lay, a crashingvolley; which would, he felt sure, repulse the horsemen and,fearing that in their retreat they might ride over him, tramplinghim to death, he struggled to his feet. The French, however, thoughrepulsed, did not retire far, but followed upon the retreatingregiment until it joined the British; when a battery opened uponthem, and their commander called upon them to fall back. This wasdone in good order, and at a steady trot.

  On seeing Terence standing in their path, an officer rode up tohim.

  "I surrender," Terence said.

  A trooper was called out, and ordered to conduct him to the rear;where many other prisoners, who had been taken during the Frenchadvance, were gathered. Here an English soldier bound up Terence'swound, from which the blood was streaming freely, a portion of thescalp having been shorn clean off.

  "That was a narrow escape, sir," the man said.

  "Yes; I don't know how it was that it did not sever my skull; but Isuppose that it was a hasty blow, and the sword must have turned.It might have been worse, by a good deal. I am afraid things aregoing badly with us."

  "Badly enough, here," the soldier said; "but I think we are holdingour own, in the centre. There is a tremendous roar of fire goingon, round that village there. I was captured half an hour ago, andit has been growing louder and louder, ever since."

  For another two hours the battle continued and, as it still centredround the village, the spirits of the prisoners rose; for it wasevident that, although the right had been driven back, the centrewas at least holding its position, against all the efforts of theFrench. In the afternoon the fire slackened, and only a few shotswere fired.

  The next morning at daybreak the prisoners, 300 in number, weremarched away under a strong escort. Both armies still occupied thesame positions they had held the day before, and there seemed everyprobability of the battle being renewed. When, however, they hadmarched several miles, and no sound of heavy firing was heard, theprisoners concluded that either Wellington had retired; or thatMassena, seeing his inability to drive the British from theirposition, intended himself to fall back upon Ciudad.

  The convoy marched twenty miles, and then halted for the night. Twohours after they did so a great train of waggons containing woundedcame up, and halted at the same place. The wounded were lifted outand laid on the ground, where the surgeons attended to the moreserious cases.

  "Pardon, monsieur," Terence said in French, to one of the doctorswho was near him, "are there any of our countrymen among thewounded?"

  "No, sir, they are all French," the doctor replied.

  "That is a good sign," Terence said, to an English officer who wasstanding by him when he asked the question.

  "Why so, Colonel?"

  "Because, if Massena intended to attack again tomorrow, he wouldhave sent the British wounded back, as well as his own men. TheFrench, like ourselves, make no distinction between friends andfoes; and that he has not sent them seems, to me, to show that heintends himself to fall back, and to leave the British wounded tothe care of their own surgeons, rather than embarrass himself withthem."

  "Yes, I have no doubt that is the case," the officer said. "Itseems, then, that we must have won the day, after all. That is somecomfort, anyhow, and I shall sleep more soundly than I expected. Ifwe had been beaten, there would have been nothing for it but forthe army to fall back again to the lines of Torres Vedras; andWellington would have had to fight very hard to regain them. IfMassena does fall back, Almeida will have to surrender."

  "I was inside last time it surrendered," Terence said, "but Imanaged to make my way out with my regiment, after the explosion."

  "I wonder whether Massena means to leave us at Ciudad, or to sendus on to Salamanca?"

  "I should think that he would send us on," Terence replied; "hewill not want to have 300 men eating up the stores at Ciudad,besides requiring a certain portion of the garrison to look afterthem."

  Terence's ideas proved correct and, without stopping at Ciudad, theconvoy of prisoners and wounded continued their march until theyarrived at Salamanca. Terence could not help smiling, as he wasmarched through the street, and thought of the wild panic that heand Dicky Ryan had caused, when he was last in that town. Theconvent which the Mayo Fusiliers had occupied was now turned into aprison, and here the prisoners taken at Fuentes d'Onoro weremarched, and joined those who had fallen into the hands of theFrench during Massena's retreat. Among these were several officersof his acquaintance and, as discipline was not very strict, theywere able to make themselves fairly comfortable together.

  The French, indeed, along the whole of the Portuguese frontier, hadtheir hands full; and the force at Salamanca was so small that butfew men could be spared for prison duties and, so long as theircaptives showed no signs of giving trouble, their guards weresatisfied to leave them a good deal to their own devices; watchingthe gate carefully, but leaving much of the interior work of theprison to be done by Spanish warders for, violent as the nativeswere in their expressions of hatred for the French, they werealways ready to serve under them, in any capacity in which moneycould be earned.

  "There can be no difficulty, whatever, in making one's escape fromhere," Terence said, to a party of four or five officers who werelodged with him in a room, from whose window a view over the citywas obtainable. "It is not the getting out of this convent that isdifficult, but the making one's way across this country to rejoin.I have no doubt that one could bribe one of those Spaniards tobring in a rope and, even if that could not be obtained, we mightmanage to make one from our blankets; but the question is, what todo when we have got out? Massena lies between us and Ciudad and,from what I hear the French soldiers say, the whole line is guardeddown to Badajoz, where Soult's army is lying. Victor is somewherefarther to the south, and their convoys and cavalry will betraversing the whole country. I speak Portuguese well, and knowenough of Spanish to pass as a Spaniard, among Frenchmen, but toanyone who does not speak either language it would be next toimpossible to get along."

  "I quite see that," one of the officers said, "and for my part Iwould rather stay where I am, than run the risk of such an attempt.I don't know a word of Spanish, and should be recaptured before Ihad been out an hour. If I got away from the town I should be nobetter off, for I could not obtain a disguise. As to making one'sway from here to Almeida, it would be altogether hopeless."

  The others agreed, and one of them said:

  "But don't let us be any hindrance to you, O'Connor. If you aredisposed to try, by all means do so and, if we can help you in anyway, we will."

  "I shall certainly try," Terence said; "but I shall wait a littleto see how things go. It may be by this time Wellington has fallenback again and, in that case, no doubt Massena will advance. Weheard as we came along that Marmont, with six divisions, isapproaching the frontier and, even if Wellington could maintainhimself on the Aqueda, Soult is likely to crush Beresford, and mayadvance from Badajoz towards Lisbon, when the British will beobliged to retire at once.

  "To make one's way across the open country between this and Ciudadwould be easy enough; while it would be dangerous in the extreme toenter the passes, while the French troops are pressing through themon Wellington's rear. My Portuguese would, of course, be ahindrance rather than a benefit to
me on this side of the frontier;for the Spaniards hate the Portuguese very much more heartily thanthey do the French. You know that, when they were supplying ourarmy with grain, the Spanish muleteers would not bring any for theuse of the Portuguese brigades; and it was only by taking it as iffor the British divisions, and distributing it afterwards to thePortuguese, that the latter could be kept alive. As a Britishofficer I should feel quite safe, if I fell into the hands ofSpanish guerillas; but as a Portuguese officer my life would not beworth an hour's purchase."

  Two days later came the news that a desperate battle had beenfought by Beresford at Albuera, near Badajoz. He had been attackedby Soult but, after tremendous fighting, in which the French firstobtained great advantages, they had been at last beaten off by theBritish troops; and it ended a drawn battle, the losses on bothsides being extraordinarily heavy. It was not until some timeafterwards that Terence learned the particulars of this desperateengagement. Beresford had 30,000 infantry, 2000 cavalry, and 38guns; but the British infantry did not exceed 7000. Soult had 4000veteran cavalry, 19,000 infantry, and 40 guns.

  The battle began badly. Blake with his Spaniards were soon disposedof by the French and, in half an hour, the battle was all but lost;a brigade of the British infantry being involved in the confusioncaused by the Spanish retreat, and two-thirds of its number beingdestroyed. The whole brunt of the battle now fell upon the smallBritish force remaining. French columns pushed up the hill held bythem. The cannon on both sides swept the ground with grape. Theheavy French columns suffered terribly from the fire from theEnglish lines; but they pressed forward, gained the crest of therise and, confident of victory, were still advancing; when Cole andHoughton's brigades came up and restored the battle, and theBritish line, charging through a storm of grape and musketry, fellupon the French columns and drove them down the hill again, inconfusion.

  The Portuguese battalions had fought well, as had the Germanregiment; but it was upon the British that the whole brunt of thefight had fallen. In the four hours that the combat lasted, 7000 ofthe allies and over 8000 of the French had been killed or wounded.Of the 6000 British infantry, only 1800 remained standing when thebattle was over, 4200 being killed or wounded; 600 Germans andPortuguese were placed hors de combat; while of the Spaniards, whoformed the great mass of the army, 2000 were killed or wounded bythe French artillery and musketry, or cut down while in disorder bythe French cavalry.

  Never was the indomitable valour of British infantry more markedlyshown than at the battle of Albuera. The battle had been broughton, in no small degree, by their anxiety for action. The regimentshad been disappointed that, while their comrades were sharing inWellington's pursuit of Massena, they were far away from the sceneof conflict; and when Beresford would have fallen back, as it wouldhave been prudent to do, they became so insubordinate that he gaveway to their desire to meet the French; and so fought a battlewhere defeat would have upset all Wellington's plans for thecampaign, and victory would have brought no advantages with it.Like Inkerman, it was a soldiers' battle. Beresford's dispositionswere faulty in the extreme and, tactically, the day was lost beforethe fighting began.

  The Spanish portion of the army did no real fighting and, in theirconfusion, involved the loss of nearly the whole of a Britishbrigade; and it was only by the unconquerable valour of theremainder of the British force that victory was gained, againstenormous odds, and that against some of the best troops of France.

  Terence was in the habit of often going down and chatting with theFrench guard at the gate. Their duties were tedious, and they wereglad of a talk with this young British officer, who was the onlyprisoner in their keeping who spoke their language fluently; andfrom them he obtained what news they had of what was going on. Afortnight later, he gathered that the British force on the Aquedahad been greatly weakened, that there was no intention of layingsiege to Ciudad, and it was believed that Wellington's main bodyhad marched south to join Beresford.

  This was, indeed, the only operation left open to the Britishgeneral. Regnier's division of Marmont's army had joined Massena,and it would be impossible to besiege Ciudad while a force, greatlysuperior to his own, was within easy striking distance. On theother hand, Beresford was in no position to fight another battleand, as long as Badajoz remained in the hands of the French, theycould at any time advance into Portugal; and its possession wastherefore of paramount importance.

  Marmont had succeeded Massena in command, the latter marshal havingbeen recalled to France; and the great bulk of the French army wasnow concentrated round Salamanca, from which it could either marchagainst the British force at Ciudad; or unite with Soult and, inoverwhelming strength, either move against Cadiz or advance intoPortugal. Wellington therefore left Spencer to guard the line ofthe Coa, and make demonstrations against Ciudad; while with themain body of his army he marched south.

  The news decided Terence to attempt to make his escape in thatdirection. He did not know whether his own regiment would be withSpencer, or Wellington; but it was clear that more important eventswould be likely to take place near Badajoz than on the Coa. TheFrench would be unlikely to choose the latter route for an advanceinto Portugal. The country had been stripped bare by the two armiesthat had marched across it. The roads were extremely bad, and itwould be next to impossible for an army to carry with it sustenancefor the march; still less for maintaining itself after it hadtraversed the passes. Moreover Spencer, falling back before them,would retire to the lines of Torres Vedras; and the invaders wouldfind themselves, as Massena had done, baffled by that tremendousline of fortifications, where they might find also Wellington andhis army, who would have shorter roads to follow, establishedbefore they arrived.

  Some of the townspeople were allowed to pass in and out of theconvent, to sell fruit and other articles to the British prisoners;and Terence thought it better to open negotiations with one ofthese, rather than one of the warders in French pay. He was notlong in fixing upon one of them as an ally. She was a good-lookingpeasant girl, who came regularly with grapes and other fruit. Fromthe first, Terence had made his purchases from her, and had stoodchatting with her for some time.

  "I want to get away from here, Nita," he said, on the day hereceived the news of Wellington's march to the south.

  "I dare say, senor," she laughed. "I suppose all the otherprisoners want the same."

  "No doubt; but you see, they would not have much chance of gettingaway, because none of them understand Spanish. I talk it a little,as you see. So if I got out and had a disguise, I might very wellmake my way across the country."

  "There are many brigands about," she said, "and it is not safe fora single man to travel anywhere. What do you want me to do?"

  "I want a rope fifty feet long; not a very thick one, but strongenough to bear my weight. That is the first thing. Then I want adisguise; but that I could get, if a friend would be in readinessto give it to me, after I had slid down the rope into the street."

  "How could I give you a rope, senor, with all these people about?"

  "You could put it into the bottom of your basket, and cover it overwith fruit. You could take your stand near the door, at the foot ofthe stairs leading up to my room. Then I could, in the hearing ofthe rest, say that it was my fete day; and that I was going to givethe others a treat, so that I would buy all your grapes. After wehad bargained for them, I could hand you the money and say:

  "'Give me your basket. I will run upstairs, empty it, and bring itdown to you.'

  "As this would save my making five or six journeys upstairs, therewould be nothing suspicious about that."

  "I will think it over," the girl said, gravely. "I do not see thatthere would be much danger. I will give you an answer tomorrow."

  The next day she said, when Terence went up to her, "I will do it,senor. I have a lover who is a muleteer. I spoke to him last night,and he will help you. Tomorrow I will give you the rope. In theafternoon you are to hang something out of your window; not far,but so that it can be just seen from the street.
That red sash ofyours will do very well. Do not let it go more than an inch or twobeyond the window sill, so that it will not attract any attention.

  "When the clock strikes ten, Garcia and I will be in the streetbelow that window. This is a quiet neighbourhood, and no one islikely to be about. Garcia will have a suit of muleteer's clothesfor you, and you can change at once. I will carry those you have onto our house, and destroy them. Garcia will take you to hislodging. He starts at daybreak with his mules, and you can travelwith them."

  "Thank you most heartily, Nita. Here are five gold pieces, for thepurchase of the ropes and clothes."

  "Oh, they will not cost anything like as much as that!" the girlsaid.

  "If they don't, you must buy yourself a little keepsake, Nita, inremembrance of me; but I will send you something better worthhaving, by Garcia, when I reach our army, and am able to get moneywith which I can pay him for his labour and loss of time."

  "I don't want money," the girl said, drawing herself up proudly. "Iam helping you because I like you, and because you have come hereto drive the French away."

  "I should not think of offering you money, Nita. I know that it isout of pure kindness that you are doing it; but you could notrefuse some little trinket to wear, on your wedding day."

  "I may never get married," the girl said, with a pout.

  "Oh, I know better than that, Nita! A girl with as pretty a face asyours would never remain single, and I should not be surprised ifyou were to tell me that the day is fixed already."

  "It is not fixed, and is not likely to be, senor. I have toldGarcia that I will never marry, as long as the French are here. Hemay go out with one of the partisan forces. He often talks aboutdoing so, and might get shot any day by these brigands. When I ammarried, I am not going to stay at home by myself, while he is awayamong the mountains."

  "Ah! Well, the war cannot last for ever. You may have Wellingtonhere before the year is out. Give me your address, so that when wecome, I may find you out."

  "Callao San Salvador, Number 10. It is one of my uncles I am livingwith there. My home is in Burda, six miles away. It is a littlevillage, and there are so many French bands ranging over thecountry that, a month ago, my father sent me in here to stay withmy uncle; thinking that I should be safer in the city than in alittle village. He brings fruit in for me to sell, twice a week."

  "Very well. If we come here, I shall go to your uncle's and inquirefor you and, if you have left him, I will go out to your villageand find you."

  All passed off as arranged, without the slightest hitch. Terencetook the girl's basket and ran upstairs with it, emptied the fruitout on the table, thrust the rope under his bed, and ran down againand gave Nita the basket. At ten o'clock at night he slung himselffrom the window and after a hearty goodbye to his fellowprisoners--several of whom, now that it was too late, would gladlyhave shared in his adventure.

  "I should be very glad if you were going with me, but at the sametime I own that I do not think we should get through. I question,indeed, if the muleteer would take anyone who did not understandenough Spanish to pass, if he were questioned by French soldiers;and if he would do so, it would greatly increase the risk. At thesame time, if one of you would like to take my place, I willrelinquish it to you; and will, after you have gone off with themuleteer, go in another direction, and take my chance of gettinghold of a disguise, somehow, and of making my way out."

  None of the others would hear of this and, after extinguishing thelight, so as to obviate the risk of anyone noticing him getting outof the window, Terence slipped down to the ground just as the clockstruck ten.

  "Good evening, senor!" a voice said, as his feet touched theground. "Here is your disguise. Nita is watching a short distanceaway, and will give us notice if anyone approaches. You had bestchange, at once."

  Terence took off his uniform and, with the assistance of themuleteer, donned the garments that he had brought for him. Then herolled the others into a bundle, and the muleteer gave a lowwhistle, whereupon Nita came running up.

  "Thanks be to the saints that no one has come along!" she said, asthe rope, which Terence had forgotten, fell at their feet; hiscompanions having, as agreed, untied the upper end.

  "That will come in useful," Garcia said, coiling it up on his arm."Now, senor, do not let us stand talking. Nita will take theuniform and burn it."

  "I will hide it, if you like," the girl said. "There can be noreason for their searching our house."

  "Thank you, Nita, but it would be better to destroy it, at once. Itmay be a long time before I come this way again; besides, thethings have seen their best days, and I have another suit I can puton, when I join my regiment. Thanks very much for your kindness,which I shall always remember."

  "Goodbye, senor! May the saints protect you!" and without givinghim time to say more, she took the bundle from Garcia's hand andsped away down the street.

  "Now, senor, follow me," he said, and turned to go in the otherdirection.

  "You had best call me Juan, and begin at once," Terence said. "Ifby accident you were to say senor, in the hearing of anyone, therewould be trouble at once."

  "I shall be careful, never fear," the man said. "However, therewould only be harm done if there happened to be a Frenchman--or oneof their Spaniards, who are worse--present. As to my own comrades,it would not matter at all. We muleteers are all heart and soulagainst the French, and will do anything to injure them. We are allobliged to work for them; for all trade is at an end, and we mustlive. Many have joined the partisans, but those who have good mulescannot go away and give up their only means of earning a living;for although the French pay for carriage by mules or carts, if theycome upon animals that are not being used, they take them without asingle scruple.

  "Besides, there are not many partisans in this part of Spain. TheFrench have been too long in the valley here, and are too strong inthe Castiles for their operations. It is different in Navarre,Aragon, and Catalonia; and in Valencia and Mercia. There the Frenchhave never had a firm footing, and most of the strong places arestill in Spanish hands. In all the mountainous parts, in fact,there are guerillas; but here it is too dangerous. There are bandsall over the country, but these are really but robbers, and nohonest man would join them.

  "This is the house."

  He turned in at a small doorway and unlocked the door, closing itafter them.

  "Put your hand on my shoulder, Juan," he said. "I have a lightupstairs."

  He led the way in darkness up a stone staircase, then unlockedanother door and entered a small room, where a candle was burning.

  "This is my home, when I am here," he said. "Most of us sleep atthe stables where our mules are put up; but I like having a placeto myself, and my mate looks after the mules."

  Nothing could have been simpler than the furniture of the room. Itconsisted of a low pallet, a small table, and a single chair. In acorner were a pair of saddlebags and two or three colouredblankets. A thick coat, lined with sheepskin, hung against thewall. In a corner was a brightly-coloured picture of a saint, withtwo sconces for candles by the side of it. The muleteer had crossedhimself and bowed to it as he came in, and Terence doubted not thatit was the picture of a saint who was supposed to take a specialinterest in muleteers.

  From a small cupboard, the man brought out a flask of wine and twodrinking cups.

  "It is good," he said, as he placed them on the table. "I go downto Xeres sometimes, and always bring up a half octave of somethingspecial for my friends, here."

  After pouring out the two cups, he handed the chair politely toTerence, and sat himself down on the edge of the pallet. Then,taking out a tobacco bag and a roll of paper, he made a cigaretteand handed it to Terence, and then rolled one for himself.