CHAPTER XI
On Active Service
A crisp, cool breeze straight from the sea swept through the streetsof Oporto and fanned the brows of three horsemen who were riding infrom the country about ten in the morning some six weeks after theevents already narrated. A brilliant autumn sun shed its rays far andwide, causing white walls and pavements to flash back shafts of lightwhich were almost blinding in their intensity, while the russet huesof the foliage looked wonderfully bright and enchanting.
"Oporto at last!" exclaimed one of the three horsemen, a youthdressed in the uniform of a staff officer. "At last!"
"And none too soon," came from his companion, riding at his knee."None too soon, Tom, my boy. Army rations are good enough whenthere's nothing else to be had, but give me the sight of a town nowand again. There'll be dinners to be had, there'll be invitationsgalore to the houses of the big people, dances, fetes, everything youcan wish for or imagine."
Jack laughed uproariously, the happy laugh of a youth who is benton pleasure, and who is ready to enjoy all that comes his way. Forthis was Jack Barwood, Ensign, of the 60th Rifles, attached forspecial service to Lieutenant Tom Clifford's command. And the youthwho looked so well in the uniform of a staff officer was none otherthan our hero. Respectfully in rear of them, precisely three horses'length behind, rode the rifleman Andrews, as erect as any cavalrysoldier trained, his eyes glistening at the prospect of a rest inOporto, a bed to sleep in, and all the entertainment a city promised.
"And work," interjected Tom, when Jack had finished speaking. "Allplay and no work makes Jack a bad soldier. Eh?"
Jack made reply by snatching at his sword and half-drawing it, whilehe glared at his comrade. However it was all fun, and only a symptomof good spirits. Jack was now in clover; but for that chance meetingwith our hero and the adventure which had followed he would have beenalong with his regiment, then scattered by companies, and his lotwould have been very different. Instead he was appointed for specialservice, than which there is nothing more eagerly sought by anofficer. He was Tom's right-hand man, his adviser if you like--thoughLieutenant Riley smiled satirically when that was suggested--hisadjutant when engaged with irregulars.
Jack had, in fact, in spite of his want of seriousness, been of greatservice to our hero. For, with the help of Andrews, he had instructedhim in the customary duties of an officer and had taught him morethan a smattering of drill.
"Just enough to let you manoeuvre the irregulars you are to command,"he had assured Tom, with a laugh. "You can't expect always to carryout an adventure like that we passed through with nothing but cheekto help you. Knowledge is wanted, my boy! I'll be the one to give itto you."
One could hardly have imagined a worse instructor; but when it cameto the point Jack had proved an excellent fellow, and very soon,thanks to his tuition, Tom found himself able to drill a company withease, and to understand how a battalion could be manoeuvred. It tookbut a short while for him to grip other points particular to an army:how it was split up into divisions, consisting of so many brigadesin each case, and how those brigades were made up of battalions,each, of course, boasting of a certain number of companies. As for acommand, Tom had not been long in finding one.
"You will endeavour to enlist Portuguese and Spanish irregulars,"the chief of Wellington's staff had told him. "We leave it to you tosuggest a plan; but, of course, your main work will be to seek outinformation concerning the enemy."
"I'm wondering----" began Tom that very evening, when he and Jack laybeneath the same tent.
"Eh? Don't!" came the facetious and grinning answer. "Don't, my boy;your brain'll not stand it."
"Seriously, though," Tom went on, ignoring his friend's good-naturedraillery.
"Of course; you're always serious. Well, you're wondering; and I'mwondering why you're wondering instead of getting off to sleep. It'sa beast of a night, raining cats and dogs, and a chap needs to sleepto escape the blues."
"It would do you good to be out with our pickets then," cried Tomwarmly, irritated by his friend. "I've a good mind to send you offwith a message to----"
That brought Jack sitting upright with a jerk. After all, Tom was hissenior, ridiculous though it did appear, and if he carried out such athreat, why, Jack must perforce obey, though such a thing as an orderhad never yet come from his friend.
"You were wondering--yes," he jerked out hurriedly.
"Whether I should ride back to that village where we had that fightwith the peasants. I'm ordered to enlist irregulars. I propose havinga band here in Portugal and one in Spain, close to the border. We allknow that the two peoples don't agree very well. There are continualjealousies between them; but they would work together on occasions.I propose going to that village to enlist the Portuguese part of mycommand."
The suggestion took Jack's breath away and filled him with horror.
"What! They'd tear you to pieces," he exclaimed. "It's madness.It's----"
"I shall ride there to-morrow," said Tom, cutting him short. "You canstay behind if you're nervous."
And off they went, with Andrews their only escort. Riding into thevillage over the heaped-up mound which marked the spot where thepeasants had dug a trench to arrest the French troopers, Tom andJack were greeted most respectfully. None recognized in the handsomestaff officer the leader of the troopers, nor in his smart brotherofficer the young fellow who was with him, and who had barely evennow recovered from the wound inflicted. Tom rode direct to the houseof the mayor, and dropped from his saddle. And then had followed anexciting incident. When he spoke, the people recognized him. Menrushed to the spot howling threats. Weapons appeared as if by magic,and for a while it looked as if, in spite of their being English, thelittle party would be cut to pieces. But here again Tom showed hismettle; not once did he betray concern.
"I make no excuses," he said sternly. "What we did was forced on us;but I have come back to bury old scores and to offer a favour to you."
His unconcern alone won him friends at once, while the memory of howhe had treated those men who had descended to the courtyard and hadbeen hemmed in there told in his favour. Where a minute earlier menhad shrieked at him, they now smiled and lifted their caps--morethan that, many were eager to do service. Thus it came about thatwithin three days Tom had as many hundred _Cacadores_, or Portugueseirregulars, drilling close to the British army, on ground speciallyallotted to them, while within six weeks he had set off for Oportofor the special purpose of arranging for a similar party of Spaniards.
"It's work that you can look forward to, Jack," he repeated, as theycame to the outskirts of Oporto. "I haven't ridden in here for thesole purpose of eating big dinners and dancing with all the fairestgirls in Oporto. I'm here on business, your business, the Britisharmy's business, and don't you forget it!"
Jack screwed his face up as if he were disgusted.
"But," he began, "there'll----"
"Be time for fun--perhaps," agreed Tom. "But business first. I shallride direct for the house of Juan de Esteros and Septimus JohnClifford & Son."
"Of Oporto."
"And of London--wine merchants. Don Juan's my uncle; I'm lookingforward to the meeting. Wonder if he'll have news of the folks athome?"
Men stepped aside to look at the two young officers, liftingtheir caps; city people raised a cheer more than once as theyrecognized the uniform of a staff officer; while often enough ahandkerchief fluttered from some window as Tom and Jack walkedtheir horses through the city. There was abundant evidence, infact, of the popularity of the British; and had our heroes caredfor entertainment, and possessed the time, they could have spenta year passing from one hospitable house to another. Everyone wasglad to see them. Everyone!--no. There was one exception, thoughhe passed unnoticed amongst the crowds. A face peeped out from thewindow of a hovel that was squeezed in at the corner of a squarewhich Tom and Jack were just entering, while the limbs of the ownerof that face writhed and twisted incessantly. A thin, weak handplayed with the corner of a weak mouth, whil
e a scowl of hatred lineda narrow forehead. The young man--for he was but little older thanTom--stretched out a little farther, so as to obtain a better view ofthe officers riding before him, and then ducked back out of sight.
"Tom Clifford!" he hissed. "He in Oporto! Safe from the sea, and anofficer! Ah!"
The scowl deepened, for the moment was a bitter one for Jose. Yes,it was Jose de Esteros, whom we saw last in London, the schemingvindictive nephew to whom John Clifford had given a home for manya year, and who had rewarded his uncle after such a manner. It wasthe sneaking youth who had procured Tom's impressment, and who hadschemed and schemed so that, one of these days, he might become thehead of the firm of Septimus John Clifford & Son. It was, in fact,the ruffian who hoped to break through that old tradition of the firmowned by his uncle, and deprive it of the son who, following unbrokencustom, should succeed.
"Tom Clifford!" he gasped again. "An officer too! How? And in Oporto!Why?"
A guilty conscience supplied the answer promptly. It was for hisarrest that Tom had come without a doubt, and here again was addedinjury. Let us realize the position of affairs exactly. Far frombeing sorry for the rascally action he had undertaken, Jose ventedthe whole of his own displeasure on Tom's unconscious head. He hadalways been jealous of our hero. He hated him now because of thefailure of the wicked scheme which should have ruined him, and hatedhim still more because retribution and discovery had come so soon.Indeed, Tom had scarcely reached the ship after his impressmentwhen Huggins, John Clifford's faithful clerk, had unravelled theconspiracy, and had compelled the ruffian who had captured him toadmit the fact. And Jose had had a near escape of being sent toprison; for with the unravelling of the conspiracy came the knowledgethat he had robbed his uncle. But this wretched youth was as craftyas he was sneaking. Swift to detect discovery, he had once morerobbed his uncle and had departed. A ship sailing that very eveningfor Oporto took him aboard, and within a week Jose de Esteros hadpresented himself at his uncle's, at Don Juan de Estero's house,where the Portuguese branch of the famous firm of Septimus JohnClifford & Son was established. And there he had remained for twomonths, giving it out that his cousin had run away from home, andthat he, Jose, had been sent to take his place. Cleverly interceptingthe frantic letters which John Clifford wrote, Jose kept up thedeception till, one fine morning, the faithful Huggins landed andappeared at the office. Then Jose ran again and hid himself in thehovels of the city. It was in one of these that he was located on themorning of Tom's entry, engaged, one may be sure, in further rascallyschemes which the unexpected arrival of his cousin at once gave zestto.
"Tom Clifford here!" he again ejaculated, crouching behind thewindow. "Then here's a chance to go on with the matter. Because Ifailed once, it won't be for always; I've a splendid game before me."
The shaking fingers went to his thin lips again, while his limbswrithed and seemed to knot themselves together.
"I'll kill him!" Jose hissed, as Tom began to pass out of his vision."Yes, and I'll make use of the information which Don Juan gave me.Ha, ha! It makes me smile. He took me into his confidence. Told meof his riches, of the wealth his son would have. He's my cousin too,like Tom. Why shouldn't I have their share from both sides of thefamily?"
The pale features of this half-Spaniard wrinkled into a smile thatwas more sardonic than anything. The thin, writhing fingers playedabout the corners of his mouth, while the pair of bright and somewhatprotruding eyes which a second before had been fixed upon thestalwart form of Andrews, then the only one of the three horsemenremaining visible, lost themselves in a vacant gaze. In those fewfollowing seconds Jose saw himself powerful and rich, head of aprosperous old firm, a partner of the business in the place of hiscousin Tom, successor to his Uncle Juan's riches.
Let us turn from the contemplation of a youth so devoid of all thatwas pleasant and taking--Jose was born with a kink, a moral kink, ifyou will--let us leave him with it and follow Tom and his comrade.But in doing so let us remember that though Jose might be weak, hewas yet a force to be reckoned with, a force, had Tom but known it,likely enough to come between him and those much-cherished ambitions.Jose might easily intervene between the gallant and handsome staffofficer whom he called cousin and that post in the army to whichyouthful good spirits and assurance caused him to aspire.
"The way to the house of Septimus John Clifford & Son, _senor_,"answered a man of whom Tom made an enquiry. "There are few in thiscity who do not know the name and the house. Pass directly on tillyou enter another square, then turn to the left, descending towardthe water. The house is on the right, some little distance down."
There it was at last. Jack pulled in his horse at the sight, whilehis estimation of our hero went up a little. For to the high andmighty Jack trade was trade, something at which he was rather wontto turn up his nose. It was purely ignorance of the world that madehim do so; for to do him but justice the young ensign was no snob.And here he found himself in front of an enormous range of buildings,with warehouses and stores running right down to the water. Over themain building flew the flag of England, with that of Portugal closebeside it, while a board of modest proportions announced the factthat this was the home of Septimus John Clifford & Son.
Tom slid from his saddle, handed his reins over to Andrews, and wentstriding up the steps of the building, his sword and sabretacheswaying at his side. A very gallant figure he cut too as he enteredthe office and enquired for Don Juan de Esteros.
"What name?" he was asked.
"Say a British officer," he responded, and presently was usheredinto a handsomely furnished office. A little man, bearing traces ofobvious ill health, rose from a chair, and at once advanced with handcordially outstretched.
"This is an honour," he said in broken English, mingled with a wordof Portuguese. "To what do I owe the visit? What can I do for you,sir? But surely----"
As he gripped Tom's hand he peered through his spectacles into hisface, while a flush suddenly suffused his own olive complexion.
"I am your nephew," said our hero abruptly, speaking Spanish andsmiling at his uncle. "Very much at your service."
A shout escaped Don Juan. He went to a door leading from the backof the room and called loudly. A minute later a familiar figureburst into the room and rushed at Tom. It was Septimus John Cliffordhimself, fatter than ever perhaps, rosy-faced, but active. Themeeting between father and son can be imagined. They gripped handsand stood staring at one another for perhaps five seconds.
"Well!" at last John gasped, standing away from his son. "A handsomefigure you cut, Tom. A soldier, eh?"
"On General Lord Wellington's staff, sir."
"And mighty well you'll do, sir," came the answer. "Mighty proud Iam of you. I've heard the tale. It's barely thirty hours since I setfoot in Portugal, and who should I meet but Lieutenant Riley, who wasjust about to embark for England. We dined together. He talked, sir.Yes, he made me feel proud. Tom, the business can still be carried onwith one of its partners in the army. I'm proud of you, lad."
Septimus John Clifford had a long tale to tell his son, and it washalf an hour later before our hero recollected that he had leftJack waiting outside. By then he had learned all that had happenedduring his absence from England. How Jose's cruel conspiracy hadbeen discovered. How in course of time a report had come through theAdmiralty telling of Tom's impressment, of the action at sea, and ofhis behaviour. And then had followed silence. The ship on which heshould have reached Oporto failed to put in an appearance. Referenceto the French failed to discover news, and John Clifford was reducedagain to the depths of despair, imagining that Tom had gone to thebottom of the sea with his comrades.
"Then there was the case of Jose, your cousin," he said severely. "Heacted like a hound all through, and but for Huggins would have doneus further injury. Imagine the duplicity and cunning of the rascal.He presented himself to your uncle here as your successor. He wormedhimself artfully into his regard, intercepted all our letters, andfinally bolted, having once more stolen all that he cou
ld lay hishands on. The news of his vileness brought me out here, and contrarywinds delayed me till the night before last. Then, and only then, didI hear of you, my boy, and of all that you have been doing."
He stood away from our hero again and inspected him with obviouspride, while Don Juan peered through his spectacles at the youngstaff officer whom he called nephew.
"A fine soldier, John," he ventured. "A good leader, by all accounts."
"And come here to let us see him. What brought you, sir?" asked John.
"Business," said Tom crisply. "But let me call in my friend andadjutant. We have business with Don Juan."
The meeting with Jack was most cordial, and presently all four wereseated in the office.
"Now," said Don Juan.
"We came to ask for your help," began Tom.
"If it's money you want, lad, as is only natural, why you shall haveplenty," burst in John.
"It's men," answered our hero. "I want to raise a small force ofSpaniards, and I want also a leader to act under my orders, on whom Ican at once rely."
It was wonderful with what enthusiasm the two older gentlemenreceived this information. Don Juan pulled off his glasses and thenpushed them back again on to his nose. He got up from his seat andpaced backwards and forwards, and later suddenly faced the twoofficers.
"You want a command composed of Spaniards; I can lay my hand onsuch a force," he said. "Alfonso, my son, is now in Spain, withineasy distance of Madrid, and, were I to command him, could raise aforce there. But the men of the towns are not to be relied on. Forguerrillas you could have none better than the mountaineers living onthe frontier between Spain and Portugal."
"Just so," agreed Tom promptly. "Hardier and braver, sir."
"Precisely," came the answer; "and with this, added to their naturalfeelings of patriotism, they will be led by the son of the man onwhose estate they work, and will have in supreme command that son'scousin, a British officer on the staff of no less a person thanGeneral Lord Wellington himself."
The little man skipped about the room in his enthusiasm, and forgotfor the moment the decorum usually expected of a sedate business man.He snapped his fingers in his glee, and winked and blinked at Tom andat the company generally through his glasses.
"Alfonso shall call them up and command them," he cried; "TomClifford, of the firm of Septimus John Clifford & Son, shall be insupreme command. How's that for an arrangement? No trouble about payeither, Tom. I'll see to that; I've abundance with which to pay everyone of the following."
The suggestion almost took Septimus Clifford's breath away. The stoutlittle head of the old and extremely respectable business firm lookedacross at the jubilant little man, who for many a year had conductedthe affairs of the firm in Portugal and Spain, as if he consideredhim mad. He gasped for breath, polished his bald head with a hugesilk handkerchief of brilliant red colour, and blew heavily, puffingout his cheeks.
"What!" he exclaimed, pointing a fat finger at Don Juan. "You willplace a force at Tom's disposal. You will call up the men on yourestate, and will put your only son in command."
"Why not, sir?" Don Juan flashed out the question, and then smiled athis partner. "Why not? A pretty person you are, to be sure! You askin one breath whether I will do this thing, knowing that my countryis overrun by France, yet in the previous breath you sing praisesbecause your only son, the son who should represent the firm, is onLord Wellington's staff. Moreover, you gloated horribly over thedetails of the fighting in which he took a prominent part, and whichwere given you by that naval officer."
A condemnatory finger was pointed at Septimus John Clifford. Don Juanregarded him severely for some moments, and then smiled and snappedhis fingers.
"Come," he said; "the affairs of our business lose significance whencompared with the dangers of this country and the efforts of yoursoldiers. Tom asks for Spanish irregulars; he shall have them. Heasks for a commander; Alfonso is the lad. Eh? You don't dare deny it."
Septimus did not. In his heart he was delighted, and, like thesensible, long-headed man he was, he promptly sat down to discussways and means. As for Tom and Jack, they spent three days in thecity, and then, accompanied by a guide, set off for the Spanishfrontier.
"You will be met there by Alfonso," said Don Juan. "I have sent a manacross to him, and he will be at the estate as soon as you are. Hereis a letter for him, and you will find that he will give you everyassistance, and will fall into this scheme with eagerness."
Some three days later found our two heroes at the estate belonging toDon Juan, where they were joined a day later by Alfonso. He rode upon a big mule, and dropped from his saddle at the porch of the house.A fine, frank young fellow he proved to be.
"Glad to meet you, senors," he cried. "Which is my cousin?"
"You speak English?" asked Tom, when the greetings were over.
"Not a word; but Portuguese, of course."
"Then Jack must hurry up with his lessons," grinned Tom; for hisadjutant, with that perverseness common to many English lads, hatedlanguages. Too full, perhaps, of insular pride, he imagined thathis own tongue should carry him everywhere, and that foreignersshould promptly contrive to add English to theirs, rather thanthat he should be bothered to master any language beyond his own.A perverseness, one may call it, a perverseness that gives theforeigner an enormous opportunity, and in these days of easy transitand of broadened interests, is telling against the Englishman. Thepolyglot Britisher of to-morrow will advance better and farther thanwill the man of to-day who is ignorant of all other languages thanhis own. However, Jack was not the one to be stupid, and, indeed,for quite a while had been struggling with French, Portuguese, andSpanish.
The four weeks which followed were busy ones for the three youngfellows. First the men of the estate had to be called up, togetherwith others living in the neighbourhood.
"We want three hundred, so as to match those in Portugal," said Tom."It will be as well also to have a reserve, who can go on trainingin our absence. I shall do the same with the men we have raised inPortugal, and, as it seems that the two forces are at this momentseparated by only some fifty miles, there will be no need to movenearer. But we must enlist the help of men living between us.It will not be difficult to devise signals, such as fires on thehilltops, which will warn either party or will summon one to join theother."
The end of the month found Alfonso's particular command sufficientlytrained for active work. No large amount of drill was given them;but they were able to perform simple movements, and, at Jack'ssuggestion, worked at the call of a whistle. One long call would seetheir bivouacs broken, their knapsacks swung over their shoulders,and each man in his place in the ranks, his musket at his shoulder.Consisting of three hundred men, they were divided into companiesa hundred strong, for each of which a reliable leader was found.Moreover, Tom had no fault to find with the formation when thosecompanies were drawn up for inspection.
"Smartness on parade is all very well, and good for discipline,"he said, whereat Jack grinned his approval, "but it won't winengagements, and the engagements we are likely to be in don't requirerigid lines. Try 'em with two long whistles."
Alfonso had barely given the signals when the companies broke up asif by magic and re-formed at once into small squares, with some fiftypaces between them.
"For cavalry," said Jack, approval in his voice. "If they've courage,and will stand fast, cavalry will have little terror for them. Ifthey break----"
"Every man would be cut to pieces, _senor_," said Alfonso. "That isa thing they know. I trust soon that we may have an opportunity oftesting their courage."
It happened that such an opportunity came almost instantly, on thevery morning when Tom and Jack were to return to Portugal. A coupleof French squadrons burst suddenly upon the little command whenengaged at drill, and galloped down upon them. For one moment therewas confusion in the ranks; then Tom's cheery voice was heard, whileAlfonso sounded his whistle.
"Get to the farthest square," Tom shouted at Jack. "I
'll take thecentre with Andrews, while Alfonso goes to the third. Our presencewill hearten the men."
Clapping spurs to their horses' flanks they galloped to their posts,and, dismounting within each square, turned to face the enemy.
"Hold your fire till I shout," commanded Tom. "Let those who arekneeling reserve their fire till the men standing above them haveopened upon the enemy. Have no fear, boys--double that strength ofthe enemy could not harm you."
But in spite of his assurance he had some qualms. Other guerrillaforces composed of Spaniards had thought to do well, and had facedFrench cavalry; but they had broken at the critical moment, and hadbeen sabred to a man. Would these fine fellows follow suit, or wouldthey stand firm? Ah! A man at one of the corners rose from his kneesand looked wildly at the enemy. He dropped his musket as if it hadstung him, and then, doubling up as if he were a hare, set off fromthe face of the square.
"Halt!" Tom bellowed. "You will be shot if you do not stop. Let thethree men at the corner aim at him and fire if he does not returninstantly."
There came a growl from many of the men. Two or three looked as ifthey might follow the bad example set them. Then there was a sharpreport, followed by the fall of the coward who had bolted from thesquare, and who had been deaf to Tom's orders.
"Form up there in the corner," he commanded, severely. "You see whathappens to a man who deserts his comrades. Let it be a lesson to all.Make ready to fire; stand firm. We shall beat them."
Let those who have not tested the experience imagine what nerve itmust require to stand shoulder to shoulder in the open and see ahorde of horse and men galloping down upon you. The animals take ona stature wonderfully enlarged--they seem even more ferocious thantheir riders--sabres whirl and appear to stretch far in advance, soas to reach easily an enemy. The situation brings for the instant afeeling of helplessness, one calculated to disturb the courage of theboldest. Would Tom's little command and the men massed in the othersquares be proof against such an ordeal?
"Charge!" The loud command from the leader of the French squadronssent a flood of men and horse madly down upon them.