THE 
 
 ROMANCE OF WAR: 
 
 OE, 
 
 THE HIGHLANDERS IN SPAIN. 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES GRANT, ESQ. 
 
 {Late G2ind JRegiment), 
 
 AUTHOR OF "the SCOTTISH CAVALIER," "THE AIDE-DE-CAMP," ETC. 
 
 In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome, 
 From the heath-covered inountams of Scotia we come; 
 Our lovid-sounding pipe breathes the true martial strain, 
 And our hearts still the old Scottish valour retain. 
 
 Lieut.-Gen. Erskine. 
 
 ^ i^t&j ^Dition. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SOUTLEDGE, WARNE, & EOUTLEDGE, 
 
 FAKRINGDON STREET; 
 NEW YORK: 56, WALKER STREET. 
 
 1862. 
 
PREFACE. H/f 
 
 NoTAYiTHSTANDTNG SO many able military narratives have of late 
 years issued from the press relative to the glorious operations of the 
 British Army, for rescuing Portugal and Spain from the grasp of the 
 invader, the Author believes that the present work is the first which 
 has been almost exclusively dedicated to the Adventures of a High- 
 land Eegiment, during the last War ; and he flatters himself that it 
 will not be found deficient in novelty and interest. He acknow- 
 ledges that, according to precedent, scenes and incidents have been 
 introduced into it which are purely imaginary, and whether he ought 
 to apologize for these, or to make a merit of them, he must leave hi^ 
 readers to decide, according to their individual tastes and pre- 
 dilections. 
 
 It will need no great sagacity to discriminate between this portion 
 and the veritable historical and military details, the result of the 
 experience of one who had the honour of serving in that gallant 
 corps to which these volumes more especially relate, during the 
 whole of its brilliant course of service in the Peninsula, and who 
 participated in all the proud feelings which arose when contem- 
 plating the triumphant career of an army, whose deeds ana victories 
 are unsurpassed in the annals of war. 
 
 Most of the military operations, and many of- the characters, 'vvill 
 be familiar to the survivors of the second division, and brother-offi- 
 cers Avill recognise many old associates in the convivialities of the 
 mess-table, and in the perils of the battle-field. The names of others 
 belong to history, and -.vith them tue political or military leader will 
 be already acquainted. 
 
 Few— few indeed of the old corps are now alive ; yet these all 
 ^emember, with equal ])ride and sorrow, 
 
 " How, upon bloody Quatre Bras, 
 Brave Camkron' neard the wild hurra 
 Of conquest as he fell ; " 
 
 and, lest any reader may suppose that in these volumes the national 
 enthusiasm of the Highlanders has been over-drawn, I shall state 
 one striking incident which occurred at Waterloo. 
 
 ;210 
 
iv PEEPACE. 
 
 On the advance of a heavy column of French infantry to attack 
 La Haye Saintc, a number of the Highlanders sang the stirriujj 
 verses of " Bruce's Address to his Army," >vhich, at such a time, had 
 a most powerful effect on their comrades; and lonj; may such senti- 
 ments animate their representatives, as they are the best incentives 
 to heroism and to honest emulation ! 
 
 It is impossible for a ^^TitGr to speak of his own production, with- 
 out exposing himself to imputations of either egotism or affected 
 modesty ; the Author therefore will merely add, that he trusts that 
 most readers may dii;cover something to attract in these volumes, 
 which depict from the life the stirring events and all the romance of 
 warfare, with the various lights and shades of military service, the 
 principal characters being members of one of those brave regiments, 
 which, from their striking garb, national feelings, romantic senti- 
 ments, and esprit de corps are essentially different from the gene- 
 rality of our troops of the line. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 CHAPTEE L 
 
 INTEODTJCTOEY. 
 
 liT the Highlands of Perthshire, a deadly feud had existed from 
 time immemorial, between the Lisles of Inchavon and the Stuarts 
 of Lochisla. In the days when the arm of the law was weak, the 
 proprietors had often headed their kinsmen and followers in en- 
 counters with the sword, and for the last time during the memorable 
 civil war of 1745-6. But between the heads of the families, towards 
 the latter end of the last century (the period when our tale com- 
 mences), although the era of feudal ideas and outrages had passed 
 away, the spirit of transmitted hatred, proud rivalry, and revenge, 
 lurked behind, and a feeUng of most cordial enmity existed between 
 Stuart and Lisle, who were ever engaged in vexatious lawsuits on 
 the most frivolous pretences, and constantly endeavouring to cross 
 each other's interests and intentions — quarrelling at public meetings — 
 voting on opposite sides — prosecuting for trespasses— and opposing 
 each other everywhere, " as if the world was not wide enough for 
 them both ;" and on one occasion a duel would have ensued but for 
 the timely interference of the sheriff. 
 
 Sir Allan Lisle of Inchavon, a man of a quiet and most benevolent 
 disposition, was heartily tired of the trouble given him by the petty 
 jealousy of his neighbour Stuart, a proud and irritable Highlander, 
 who would never stoop to reconciliation with a family whom his 
 father (a grim duinlie-ioassal of the old school) had ever declared to 
 him were the hereditary foes of his race. The reader may consider 
 it singular that such antiquated prejudices should exist so lately as 
 the end of the last century ; but it must be remembered that the 
 march of intellect has not made such strides in the north country as 
 it has done in the Lowlands, and many of the inhabitants of Perth- 
 shire will recognise a character well known to them, under the namo 
 of Mr. Stuart. 
 
 It must also be remembered, that he was the son of a man who 
 had beheld the standard of the Stuarts unfurled in Glenfinan, and 
 had exercised despotic power over his own vassals when the feudal 
 system existed in its full force, before the act of the British Parlia^ 
 ment abolished the feudal jurisdictions throughout Scotland, and 
 absolved the unwilling Highlanders from allegiance to their chiefs. 
 
 Sir Allan Lisle (who was M.P. for a neighbouring county) was in 
 every respect a man of superior attainments to Stuart, — being a 
 
 I. B 
 
3 TIIE EOiLiXCE OF AYAB. 
 
 eholar, the master of many modern accomplishments, and having 
 made the grand tour. To save himself further annoyance, he would 
 gladly have extended the right hand of fellowship to his stubhoru 
 neighbour, but pride forbade him to make the first advances. 
 
 The residence of this intractable Gael was a square tower, over- 
 gro\ATi with massesof ivy, and bearing outwardly,and almost inwardly, 
 the same appearance as when James the Fifth visited it once when 
 on a hunting excursion. The walls were enormously thick ; the 
 grated windows were small and irregular ; a corbelled battlement sur- 
 mounted the top, from the stone bartizan of which the standard of 
 the OMTier was, on great days, hoisted with much formality by Donald 
 Iverach, the old piper, or Evan his son, two important personages in 
 the household of the little tower. 
 
 This primitive fortalice was perched upon a projecting craig, which 
 overhung the loch of Isla, a small but beautiful sheet of water, 
 having in its centre an islet ^vith the ruins of a chapel. The light- 
 green birch and black sepulchral pine, flourishing wild and thickly, 
 grew close to the edge of the loch, and cast their dark shadows upon 
 its generally unruffled surface. Around, the hills rose lofty, pre- 
 cipitous, and abrupt from the margin of the lake ; some were covered 
 with foliage to the summit, and others, bare and bleak, covered only 
 with the whin-bush or purple heather, where the red roe and the 
 black cock roved wild and free ; while, dimly seen in the distance, 
 rose the misty crest of Benmore (nearly four thousand feet above the 
 level of the sea), the highest mountain, save one, in Perthshire. 
 
 A little clachan, or hamlet, consisting of about twenty green, 
 thatched cottages clustered together, with kail-yards behind, occupied 
 the foot of the ascent leading to the tower ; these were inhabited by 
 the tenants, farm-servants, and herdsmen of Stuart. The graceful 
 garb of the Grael was almost uniformly worn by the men ; and the 
 old wives, who in fine weather sat spinning on the tui'f-seats at the 
 doors, wore the simple mutch and the varied tartan of their name. 
 The "wife of this Highland castellan had long been dead, as were their 
 children excepting one son, who was almost the only near kinsman 
 that Stuart had left. 
 
 ^ Eonald was a handsome youth, with a proud dark eye, a haughty 
 lip, and a bold and fearless heart, — ^possessing all those feelings which 
 render the Scottish Highlander a being of a more elevated and 
 romantic cast than his Lowland neighbours. He was Avell aware of 
 the groundless animosity which his father nourished against Sir Allan 
 Lisle ; but as in the course of his lonely rambles, fishing, shooting, 
 or hunting, he often when a boy encountered the younger members 
 of the Inchavon family, and as he found them agreeable companions 
 and plajnnates, he was far from sharing in the feelings of his 
 prejudiced father. He found Sir Allan's son, Lewis Lisle, an obliging 
 and active youth, a perfect sportsman, who could -ning a bird with a 
 single ball, and who knew every corrie and chasm through which the 
 wandering Isla flowed, and the deep pools where the best trout were 
 always to be found. 
 
 In Ahce Lisle, Ronald found a pretty and agreeable playmate in 
 youth, but a still more agreeable companion for a solitary ramble as 
 they advanced in years ; and he discovered in her splendid dark eyes 
 and glossy black hair charms which he beheld not at home in his 
 father's mountain tower. 
 
 During childhood, when the days passed swiftly and happily, the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAS. $ 
 
 brother and sister, of a milder mood than Eonald Stuart, admired the 
 activity with which ho Avas wont to chmb the highest craigs and 
 trees, swinging himself, with tne dexterity of a squirrel, from branch 
 to branch, or rock to rock, seeking the nests of the eagle or raven, or 
 floAvers that grew in the clefts of Craigonan, to deck the dark ourls 
 of Alice. Still more were they charmed with the peculiarity of his 
 disposition, which v/as deeply tinged with the gloomy and romantic, — 
 a sentiment which exists in the bosom of every Highlander, imparted 
 by the scenery amidst which he dwells, the lonely hills and silent 
 shores of his lochs, pathless and solitary heaths, where cairns and 
 moss-covered stones mark the tombs of departed warriors, pine- 
 covered hills, frowning rocks, and solitary defiles, — all fraught with 
 traditions of the past, or tales of mysterious beings who abide m them. 
 These cause the Gaelic mountaineer to be a sadder and more thought- 
 ful man than the dwellers in the low country, who inhabit scenes less 
 grand and majestic. 
 
 In the merry laugh and the gentle voice of Alice, Eonald found a 
 charm to wean him from the tower of Lochisla, and the hours 
 which he spent in her society, or in watching the windows of her 
 fathei^'s house, were supposed to be spent in search of the black-cock 
 and the fleet roes of Benmore ; and many a satirical observation he 
 endured, in consequence of bringing home an empty game-bag, after 
 a whole day's absence with his gun. 
 
 Eonald enjoyed but little society at the tower. His father, in con- 
 sequence of the death of his wife and younger children, and owing to 
 many severe losses which he had sustained in the course of his long 
 series of litigations, had become a moody and silent man, spending 
 his days either in reading, or in solitary rides and rambles. His 
 voice, vv'hich, when he did speak, was authoritative enough and loud, 
 was seldom heard in the old tower, where the predominant sounds 
 were the grunting tones of Janet, the aged housekeeper, who quar- 
 relled continually Avith Donald Iverach, the piper, whenever the 
 latter could find time, from his almost constant occupations of pipin© 
 and drinking, to enjoy a skirmish with her. 
 
 As years crept on, the friendship between the young people 
 strengthened, and in the breasts of Alice and Eonald Stuart became 
 a deeper and a more absorbing feeling, binding them " heart to heart, 
 and mind to mind," and each became all the world unto the other. 
 To them there was something pleasing and even romantic in the 
 strange secrecy they were necessitated to use ; believing that, should 
 their intercourse ever come to the ears of their parents, effectual 
 means would be taken to put a stop to it. 
 
 CHAP TEE II. 
 
 INTEEYIEWS. 
 
 "Alice ! my own fair Alice ! my hard destiny ordains that I must 
 leave you," was the sorrowful exclamation of Eonald one evening, as 
 he joined Ahce at their usual place of meeting, a sohtary spot on the 
 banks of the Isla, where the willow and alder-bush, overhanging the 
 eteep rocks, swept the dark surface of the stream. 
 
 "I^eave nie ! Eonald, what can you mean ? " was the trembling 
 
 b2 
 
4 THE nOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 reply of the fair girl, as she put her arm through his, and gazed 
 anxiously on the troubled countenance of her lover, 
 
 " That 1 must go — far from you and the bonnie banks of the Isla. 
 Yes, Alice ; but it is only for a short time, I trust. Of the embar- 
 rassed state of my father's affairs, by liis long lawsuits and other 
 matters, I have acquainted you already, and it has now become 
 necessary for me to choose some profession. My choice has been the 
 nrmy : what other could one, possessing the true spirit of a Highland . 
 gentleman, follow ? " 
 
 " O Ronald ! I ever feared our happiness was too great to last 
 long. Ah ! you must not leave me." 
 
 "Alice," replied the young Highlander, his cheek flushing while 
 he spoke, " our best and bravest men are going forth in thousands 
 to meet the enemies of our country, drenching in their blood the 
 fatal peninsula ; and can I remain behind, \viien so many of my 
 name and kindred have fallen in the service of the king ? Never 
 has the honour of Scotland been tarnished by the few who have 
 returned^ nor lost by those who have fallen, in every clime where 
 the British standard has been unfurled against an enemy. An 
 ensigncy has been promised me ; and in a Highland regiment, wear- 
 ing the garb, inheriting the spirit of the Gael, and commanded by a 
 grandson of the great Lochiel ; and I cannot shrink when my father 
 bids me go, although my heart should almost burst at leaving you 
 behind, my own — own Alice ! " and he pressed to his bosom the 
 agitated girl, who seemed startled at the vehemence v,it]i which he 
 had spoken. 
 
 " But hold, Alice," he added, on perceiving tears trembling on her 
 dark eyelashes ; " you must not give way thus. I will return, and 
 all will yet be well. Only imagine what happiness will then be ours, 
 should the famihes be on good terms, and I, perhaps, Sir Eonald 
 Stuart, and knight of I know not how many orders ?" 
 
 " Ah, Eonald ! but think of how many have left their happy 
 homes with hearts beating high with hope and pride, and left them 
 never to return. Did not the three sons of your cousin of Strathonan 
 leave their bones on the red sands of Egji)t ? and many more can I 
 name. Ah ! how I tremble to think of the scenes that poor soldiers 
 must behold — scenes of which I cannot form even the slightest 
 conception." 
 
 " These are sad forebodings," replied the young man, smiling ten- 
 derly, " and from the hps of one less young and less beautiful than 
 yourself, might have been considered as omens of mischance. I 
 trust, however, that I, who have so often shot the s'oiftest red roes in 
 Strathisla, slept whole nights on the frozen heather, and know so 
 well the use of the target and claymore (thanks to old Iverach), shall 
 make no bad soldier or campaigner, and endure the hardships in- 
 cident to a military hfe infinitely better than the fine gentleman of 
 the Lowland cities. The proud Cameron who is to command me 
 will, I am sure, be my friend ; he will not forget that his grandsire's 
 hfe was saved by mine at CuUoden, and he will regard me with the 
 love of the olden time, for the sake of those that are dead and gone. 
 Oh, AUce ! I could view the bright prospect which is before me with 
 tumultuous joy, but for the sorrow of leaving you, my white-haired 
 father, and the bonnie braes and deep corries of Isla. But if ^nth 
 Heaven's aid I escape, promise, Alice, that when I return you 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 5 
 
 will be mine, — mine by a dearer title than ever I could call you 
 heretofore." 
 
 " Eonald— dearest Eonald ; I will love you as I have ever done,'* 
 she said in a soft yet energetic tone; "and I feel a secret voice 
 within me which tells that the happy anticipations of the past will — 
 Avill yet be accomphshed." The girl laid her blushing cheek on the 
 shoulder of the young man, and her dark thick curls, becoming free 
 from the little cap or bonnet which had confined them, fell over his 
 breast in disorder. 
 
 At that exciting moment of passion and mental tumult, Eonald's 
 eye met a human countenance observing them sternly from among 
 the leaves of the trees that flourished near them. The foliage was 
 suddenly pushed aside, and Sir Allan Lisle appeared, scanning the 
 young offenders with a stern glance of displeasure and surprise. He 
 was a tall thin man, in the prime of life, mth a fine countenance 
 expressive of mildness and benevolence. He wore his hair thickly 
 powdered, and tied in a queue behind. He carried a heavy hunting- 
 whip in his hand, which he grasped ominously as he turned his keen 
 eye alternately from the young man to his trembling daughter, who, 
 leaning against a tree, covered her face with her handkerchief ani 
 sobbed hysterically. Eonald Stuart stood erect, and returned Sir 
 Allan's glance as firmly and as proudly as he could, but he felt some 
 trouble in maintaining his self-possession. His smart blue bonnet 
 had fallen off*, fully reveahng his strongly-marked and handsome 
 features, where Sir Allan read at once that he was a bold youth, with 
 whom proud looks and hard words would little avail. 
 
 " How now, sir ! " said he at length. " What am I to understand 
 by all this ? Speak, young gentleman," he added, perceiving that 
 Eonald was puzzled, answer me truly. As the father of this im- 
 prudent girl, I am entitled to a reply." 
 
 Eonald was about to stammer forth something. 
 
 " You are, I believe, the son of Stuart of Lochisla?" mterrupted 
 Sir Allan, sternly, "who is far from being a friend to me or mine. 
 How long is it since you have kno^Ti my daughter ? and what am I 
 to understand from the scene you have acted here ?" 
 ■^k" That 1 love Miss Lisle with the utmost tenderness that one 
 being is capable of entertaining for another," replied Eonald, his 
 face suffusing with a crimson glow at the earnest confession. " Sir 
 Allan, if you have seen what passed just now, you will perceive that 
 I treat her with that respect and dehcacy which the beauties of her 
 mind and person deserve." 
 
 "' This is indeed all very fine , sir ! and very romantic too ; but 
 rather unexpected, — upon my honour, rather so," replied the baronet 
 sarcastically, as he drew the arm of the weeping Alice through his. 
 " But pray. Master Stuart, how long has this clandestine matter been 
 carried on ? how long have you been acquainted ? " 
 
 " Prom our earliest childhood, sir — indeed I tell you truly — from 
 the days in whicli we used to gather wild flowers and berries 
 together as little children. We have been ever together ; a day has 
 scarcely elapsed without our seeing each other ; and there is not a 
 dingle of the woods, a dark corrie of the Isla, or a spot on the braes 
 of Strathouan, where we have not wandered hand in hand, since the 
 days when Alice was a laughing little girl with flaxen curls until 
 BOW, when she is become tall, beautiful, and almost a woman with 
 
6 THE EOilANCE OF WAB. 
 
 rinclets as black as the wing of the muircock. But your son Lewis 
 will tell all these things better than I can, as I am rather confused 
 just now, Sir Allan." 
 
 " 'Tis veiy odd this matter has been concealed from me so lone," 
 said the other, softened by the earnest tone of the young man, who 
 felt how much depended upon the issue of the present unlooked-for 
 interview ; " and if my ears have not deceived me, I think I heard 
 you otler marriage to my foolish daughter on your return from 
 somewhere ? " 
 
 " It is very true, sir," replied the young man modestly. 
 
 " And pray, young sir, what are your pretensions to the hand of 
 Miss Lisle?" 
 
 " Sir !" ejaculated Ronald, his cheek flushing and his eye sparkling 
 at the angry inquiry of the other. 
 
 " I ask you, ^Mr. Stuart, what are they ? Your father I know to 
 be an almost ruined man, whose estates are deeply dipped and over- 
 whelmed by bonds, mortgages, and what not. He has, moreover, been 
 a deadly enemy to me, and has most unwarrantably " 
 
 " Oh, pray, papa ! dear papa !" urged the young lady imploringly. 
 
 " Sir Allan Lisle," cried Eonald with, a stern tone, while his heart 
 beat tumultuously, '"' Lowland lawyers and unlooked-for misfortunes 
 ai'e, I know, completing our ruin, and the pen and parchment have 
 made more inroads upon us than ever your ancestors could have 
 done Avith all Perthshire at their back ; but, truly, it ill becomes a 
 gentleman of birth and breeding to speak thus slightingly of au 
 old and honourable Highland family. If my father, inheriting as 
 he does ancient prejudices, has been hostile to your interests, I, Sir 
 Allan, never have been so ; and the time was once, when a Lisle 
 dared not have spoken thus tauntingly to a Stuart of the house of 
 Lochisla." 
 
 Sir Allan admired the proud and indignant air with which th& 
 youth spoke ; but he wished to humble him if possible, and deemed 
 that irony was a better weapon than anger to meet the fiery young 
 Highlander mth. He gave a sort of tragi-comic start, and was 
 about to make some sarcastic reply, when his foot caught the root of 
 a tree ; he reeled backward, and fell over the rocky bank into the 
 Isla, which formed a deep, dark, and noiseless pool below. 
 
 A loud and startling cry burst from Ahce as her father suddenly- 
 disappeared from her side. 
 
 " Save him, save him, Eonald ! Oh, Honald ! if you love me, save 
 my father !" she cried in accents at once soul-stirring and imploring, 
 while she threw herself upon her knees, and, not daring to look upon 
 the stream, covered her eyes with her hands, calling alternately upon. 
 Heaven and her lover in tones which defy the power of language to 
 describe, to save her father. 
 
 " Dearest Ahce, calm yourself; be pacified,— he shall not perish," 
 cried Eonald, whose presence of mind had never once forsaken him, 
 as he cast aside his bonnet and short sporting-coat, and gazed over 
 the bank upon the rapid river running l3etween two abrupt walls of 
 rock, against the dark sides of which the spray and foam raised by 
 Sir Allan's struggles was dashed. The latter was beating the water 
 friu.iessly in the centre of the pool, where it vras deep and the 
 current strong ; yet he made no outcry, as if unwilling to add to the 
 distress which he knew his daughter already experienced. 
 
 He bestowed one look of terror and agony on Eonald, who instantly 
 
THE ROMANCE OF V,'AE. 7 
 
 sprang off the precipitous rock, and swimming round him, strongly and 
 vigorously in wide circles, caught him warily by the hair, and holding 
 his head above the surface of the stream, swam down the current to 
 a spot where the bank was less steep, and -vnth some exertion landed 
 Idm safely on the green turf, where he lay long speechless ; while 
 Ahce wrung her hands, and wept in an ecstasy of terror, embracing 
 her father and his preserver by turns. The latter, who was nothing 
 the worse for his ducking, put on his bonnet and upper garment with 
 perfect sang froid ; but it was some time before Sir Allan recovered 
 himself so far as to be able to thank his preserver, who poured down 
 his throat as he lay prostrate the contents of a metal hunting-flask, 
 which he generally carried about with him filled with the best 
 brandy, procured, by means unknown, duty free at Lochisla, 
 
 Shoi-tly and emphatically did Sir Allan thank Eonald for the aid 
 he had rendered, as he must inevitably have perished, being unable 
 to swmi, and having to contend with a strong current, which would 
 soon have carried him over the high cascade of Corrie-avon. Eonald 
 inwardly blessed the accident which had rendered Sir Allan so much 
 "his debtor, and wrought such a happy change of sentiment in his 
 favoui'. lie accompanied Alice and her father to one of _ the gate- 
 lodges of Inchavon, and there resisting an earnest invitation to the 
 house, he returned with all speed home, not ill -pleased with the issue 
 of the day's advent lu'es, . 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A TEUE HIGHLAl^DEE. 
 
 One fine forenoon, a few days after the occurrences related in the 
 last chapter, a horseman appeared riding along the nan'ow uneven 
 road leading by the banks of Lochisla towards the tower. It was 
 Sir Allan Lisle, who came along at a slow trot, managing his nag 
 ' Avith the ease and grace of a perfect rider, never making use of either 
 whip or spur, but often draAnng in his rein to indulge the pleasure 
 and curiosity -with which he beheld (though accustomed to the 
 splendid scenery of Perthsliire) this secluded spot, which he had 
 never seen before, — the black and sohtary tower, the dark blue wave- 
 , ess loch, and the wild scenery by which it was surrounded. 
 
 As he advanced up the ascent towards the tower, his horse began 
 to snort, shake its mane, and grow restive, as its ears were saluted by 
 a noise to which they Avere unaccustomed. 
 
 Donald Iverach, the old piper of the family (which office his an- 
 cestors had held since the days of Eobert the Second, according to 
 his o"VMi account), was pacing with a stately air to and fro before the 
 door of the fortalice, vdth the expanded bag of the piob tnhor under 
 his arm, blowing from its long chaunter and three huge drones " a 
 tempest of dissonance ; " while he measured -snth regular strides the 
 length of the barbican or court, at one end of which stood a largo 
 stoup of whiskey (placed on the end of a cask), to which he applied 
 himself at every turn of his promenade to Avet his whistle. 
 _ The piper, though of low stature, was of a powerful, athletic, and 
 sineA%y fonn, and although nearly sixty, was as fresh as when only 
 sixteen ; his face was rough and purple, from drinking and exposur<» 
 
8 THE EOMAISCE OF WAE. 
 
 to the weather; his huge red whiskers curled round beneath his 
 chin and grew up to his eyes, which twinkled and glittered beneath 
 their shaggv brows ; a smart blue bonnet set jauntily, very much 
 over the right eye, gave him a knowing look, and his knees, " which 
 had never known covering from the day of his birth " where ex- 
 posed by the kilt, were hairy and rough as the hide of the roe-buck ; 
 his plaid waved behind, and a richly-mounted dirk, eighteen inches 
 long, hanging on his right side, completed his attire. 
 
 Great was the surprise of the Celt when, on turning in his march, 
 he suddenly beheld Sir Allan Lisle, whom he had not seen since the 
 last year, when by the laird's orders he had endeavoured, by the over- 
 whelming noise of his pipe, to dro^vn a speech which the baronel 
 was addressing to the electors of the county. But what earthly 
 errand, thought Donald, could bring a Lisle up Strathisla, where 
 one of the race had not been since the father of the present Sir 
 Allan had beleaguered the tower in 1746 with a party of the Scottish 
 Fusihers. The chaunter fell from the hand of the astonished piper, 
 and the wind in the bag of his instrument escaped with an appalling 
 groan. 
 
 " My good friend, I am glad you have ceased at last," said Sir 
 Allan ; "I expected every moment that my horse would have thro-wn 
 me. This fortress of yours will be secure against cavalry while you 
 are in it, I dare swear." 
 
 " I dinna ken, sir," replied the piper, touching his bonnet haughtily; 
 "but when pare leggit gillies and red coats tried it in the troublesome 
 times, they aye gat the tead man's share o' the deep loch below." 
 
 '■'Is your master — is Lochisla at home?" 
 
 "His honour the laird is within" replied Iverach, as Sir Allan 
 dismounted and desired him to hold his horse. 
 
 " Lochisla's piper will hold nae man's bridle-rein, his honour's 
 excepted," said the indignant Highlander; "put a common gillie 
 may do tat. Holloa! Alpin Oig Stuart! Dugald! Evan! come an' 
 hold ta shentleman's praw sheltie," shouted he, making the old 
 barbican ring. 
 
 " One will do, I dare say," said Sir Allan, smihng as he resigned 
 his nag to Evan, Iverach's son, a powerful young mountaineer, 
 who appeared at his father's shout. 
 
 Preceded by Donald, Sir Allan ascended the winding staircase of 
 the tower, and was ushered into the hall, or principal apartment it 
 contained, the roof of which was a stone arch. At one side yawned a 
 large fire-place,, on the mouldered hntel of which appeared the crest 
 and badge-flower of the Stuarts, — a thistle, and underneath was the 
 family motto, " Omne solum fortipatria." At each end of the chamber 
 was a window of moderate size, with a stone muUion in the form of a 
 cross ; one commanded a view of the loch and neighbouring forests 
 of birch and pine, and the other the distant outline of the high Ben- 
 more. The walls were adorned with apparatus for hunting, fishing, 
 shooting, and sylvan trophies, intermixed with targets, claymores, 
 Lochaber axes, old muskets, matchlocks, &c. 
 
 The furniture was of oak, or old and black mahogany, massive and 
 much dilapidated, presenting a very different appearance to that in 
 the splendid modern drawing-room at Inchavon. A few old portraits 
 hung on the blackened walls ; and one in particular, that of a stern 
 old Highlander, whose white beard flowed over his belted plaid, 
 seemed to scowl on Sir Allan who felt considerably embarrassed 
 
THE ROMANCE OF Wi-iS. 9 
 
 when he unexpectedly found himself in the habitation of one whom 
 he could not consider otherwise than as his foe. 
 
 While awaiting the appearance of the proprietor, whom the piper 
 was gone to inform of the visit, Sir Allan's eye often wandered to the 
 portrait above the fire-place, and he remembered that it was the 
 likeness of the father of the present Stuart, who at the battle of 
 Palkirk had unhorsed, by a stroke of his broad-sword, his (Sir Allan's) 
 father, then an officer in the army of General Hawley. While Sir 
 Allan mused over the tales he had heard of the grim Ian Mhor of 
 Lochisla, the door opened, and ]Mr. Stuart entered. 
 
 Erect in person, stately in step, and graceful in deportment, strong 
 and athletic of form, he appeared in every respect the genuine High- 
 land gentleman. He was upwards of sixty, but .his eye was clear, 
 keen, and bright, and his weather-beaten cheek and expansive fore- 
 head were naturally tinged with a ruddy tint, which was increased 
 to a flush by the excitement caused at this unlooked-for visit. 
 
 Unlike his servants, who wore the red tartan of their race, he was 
 attired in the usual dress of a country gentleman, and wore his silver 
 locks thickly and unnecessarily powdered, and clubbed in a thick 
 queue behind. 
 
 The natural politeness and hospitable feeling of a Highlander had 
 banished every trace of displeasure from his bold and unwrinkled 
 brow, and he grasped Sir Allan's hand with a frankness at which the 
 latter was surprised, as w\as old Janet the housekeeper, who saw 
 through the keyhole what passed, though she was unable, in conse- 
 quence of her deafness, to hear what was said. 
 
 " Be seated, Sir Allan," said Mr. Stuart, bowing politely, though 
 he felt his stiffness and hauteur rising within him, and endeavoured 
 to smother it. " To w^hat am I indebted for the honour of this 
 visit ? which, I must have the candour to acknowledge, is most un- 
 expected." 
 
 " Lochisla," replied the other, addressing him in the Scottish man- 
 ner by the name of his property, " to the gallantry of your brave 
 boy, Eonald, but for whose exertions I should at this moment have 
 been sleeping at the bottom of the Linn at Corrie-avon. I have 
 deemed it incumbent upon me to visit Lochisla, to return my earnest 
 thanks personally for the signal service he has rendered to me, and I 
 regret that the terms on which you — on which we have lived, render, 
 in your estimation, my visit rather an honour than a pleasure." 
 
 A shade crossed the brow of the Highlander, but on hearing the 
 particulars, he congratulated Sir Allan on his escape in a distant and 
 polite manner, while the twinkle of his bright eyes showed how 
 much satisfaction he enjoyed at the brave conduct of his son. While 
 Sir Allan was relating the story, Mr. Stuart placed near him a large 
 silver hqueur-frame, containing six cut-glass bottles, the variously- 
 coloured contents of which sparkled behind their silver labels. 
 
 " Come, Sir Allan, fill your glass, and drink to my boy's health : 
 one does not experience so narrow an escape often, now-a-days at 
 least. Come, sir, fill your glass, — there is sherry, brandy, port, and 
 the purer dew of the hills ; choose which you please." 
 
 " You Stuarts of Lochisla have long borne a name for hpspitahty, 
 but it is rather early to taste strong waters, — 'tis not meridian yet." 
 
 " Our hospitality was greater in the olden time than it is now ; 
 but it is not often that this old hall has within it one of the Lisles 
 of the Inch, and you must positively drink with me, " answered 
 
10 THE KOilANCE OF TVAE. 
 
 his host, compelhng him to fill his glass from the decanter of 
 purple port. 
 
 " Our visits have been fewer, and less friendly, than I trust thev 
 ■vrill be for the future. Your health, Lochisla," he added, sippin^; 
 his \nne. " 'Tis sixty years and more, I think, since my father came 
 up the Strath with his followers, ■\^hen — " 
 
 " Wc will not talk of these matters. Sir Allan," exclaimed Stuart, 
 on whose features was gathering a stern expression, which Sir Allan 
 saw not, as he sat with his face to a window and looked through his 
 glass with one eye closed, watching a crumb of the bee's- wing floating 
 on the bright liquor. " They are the last I would wish to think of 
 when you are my guest," 
 
 " Pardon me, I had no vvish to offend ; Ave have ever been as 
 strangers to each other, although our acres march. I have had every 
 desire to live on amicable terms with, you, Mr. Stuart ; but you have 
 ever been prejudiced against me, and truly without a cause." 
 
 " I am one of the few who inherit the feehngs of a bygone age. 
 But, Sir Allan Lisle, let us not, I entreat you, refer to the past," 
 coldly rephed the old BLighlander, to whom two parts of his guest's 
 last speech were displeasing. The recurrence to the past terms on 
 which they had hved, brought to his mind more than one case of 
 litigation in which Sir Allan had come off victorious ; the other was 
 being addressed as Mr. Stuart, a title by which he was never known 
 among his own people. The polite and affable manner of his visitor 
 had tended to diminish his prejudices during the last five minutes, 
 but Sir Allan's blundering observations recalled to the mind of the 
 old duinhe-ivassal the bitter feelings which he inherited from his 
 father, and his high forehead became flushed and contracted. 
 
 " It appears very unaccountable," said he, after the uncomfortable 
 pause which had ensued, " that my son has never, during the past 
 days, mentioned the circumstance of the happy manner in which he 
 drew you from the Corrie-avon." 
 
 " To that," replied the other, laughing, " a story is appended, a very 
 romantic one indeed, part of which I suppressed in my relation ; 
 nothing less, in fact, than a love affair, to which, as 1 have conceived 
 a friendship for the bravo boy to whom I owe a life, I drink every 
 success" (di lining his glass); "but this must be treated of more 
 gravely at a future interview." 
 
 " Sir Allan, I understand you not ; but if Honald has formed any 
 attachment in this neighbourhood, he must learn to forget it, as he 
 will soon leave Lochisla. Some cottage girl, I suppose ; these attach- 
 ments are common enough among the mountains." 
 
 " You mistake me : the young lady is one every way his equal, and 
 they have known each other from their childhood. jBut I will leave 
 the'hero to tell his own tale, which will sound better from the lips of 
 a handsome Highland youth, than those of a plain grey-haired old 
 fellow, like myself" 
 
 " I hke your frankness," said Stuart, softened by the praise bestowed 
 on his son by his old adversary, whose hand he shook, " and will re- 
 quite it, Sir Allan. When Ronald comes down the glen, I will talk 
 ■v^ith him over this matter, which I confess troubles me a httle at 
 heart, as I never supposed he would have kept an attachment of his 
 secret from me, his only parent noAV, and one that has loved him so 
 dearly as I have done. But I must be gentle with him, as he is about 
 to leave me soon, poor bov." 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 11 
 
 " Ah ! for tlie army,— so I have heard : our boys v> ill follow nothing 
 else now-a-days. I fear my own sprin^ald, Le^vis, is casting wistful 
 thoughts that way. But should you wish it, I may do much in. 
 Eonald's favour : I have some little interest with those in power in 
 London, and — " 
 
 " I thank you, but it needs not to be so. Huntly has promised me 
 that Eonald shall not be forgotten when a vacancy occurs in the 
 ' Gordon Highlanders,' a regiment raised among his own people and 
 kindred ; and the Marquis, whose interest is great with the Duke 
 of York, will not forget his word— his pledged word— to a Highland 
 gentleman." 
 
 On Sir Allan's departure, Stuart, from one of the hall T\indows, 
 watched his retiring figure as he rode rapidly down the glen, and dis- 
 appeared among the birchen foliage which overhung and shrouded 
 the winding pathway. A sour smile curled his hp ; he felt old pre- 
 judices rising strongly in his breast, and he turned his eye on the 
 faded portrait of his father, and thought of the time when he had sat 
 as a little child upon his knee, and heard the family of Lisle men- 
 tioned with all the bitterness of Highland rancour, and been told a 
 thousand times of the days when Colonel Lisle had carried fire and 
 sword through all Lochisla, besieging the little tower for days, until 
 its inmates were perishing for want. In the tide of feeling which 
 these reflections called forth, the late amiable interview was for- 
 gotten ; and he only remembered Sir Allan as the foe of his race, and 
 the victor in many a keenly-contested case in the Parliament House, 
 the place where the Court of Session sit at Edinburgh. 
 
 A bustle in the narrow staircase recalled him to himself : the door 
 was thrown open, and E,onald entered, gun in hand, from the hill, 
 flushed and excited with the nature of the sport. Two tall High- 
 landers strode behind, bearing on their shoulders a stout pole, from 
 which was suspended by the heels a gigantic deer, whose branching 
 antlers trailed on the floor, which was sprinkled with spots of blood • 
 falling from its dilated nostrils and a death-wound in its neck, which 
 had been gashed across by the skene-dhii of a Highlander. A number 
 of red-eyed dogs accompanied them, displaying in their forms the 
 long and muscular limbs, voluminous chest, and rough wiry coat of 
 the old Scottish hound, — a noble animal, once common in the Low- 
 lands, but now to be found only in the north, where the deer wander- 
 free over immense stretches of waste moorland or forest, as they did 
 of old. 
 
 " A brave beast he is," said Eonald, exultingly, as he cast aside his 
 bonnet and gun. " At the head of the loch I fired, and wounded him 
 h ere in the neck : we traced him by the blood for two miles down the 
 Isla, where he flew through thicket and brake with the speed of an 
 arrow ; but the gallant dogs Odin and Carrill fastened upon him, and 
 drew him down when about to take the water, near the marchstonc 
 of the Lisles. 'Twas luckily done : had he once gained the grounds 
 of Inchavon, our prize would have been lost." 
 
 " Ronald," replied his father, coldly, " we wiU hear all this matter 
 afterwards." Then turning to the gillies, " Dugald Stuart, and you 
 Alpin Gig," said he, " carry away this quarry to the housekeeper, and 
 desu-e her to fill your queghs for you. I have had a visit from Sir 
 Allan Lisle," resumed Stuart, when the Highlanders had obeyed his 
 order and retired. " Hah ! you change countenance already : this 
 has been a mysterious matter. He has been here to return thanks 
 
12 THE ROMANCE OF WAE 
 
 for your pulling him out of Tsla, where he was nearly drowned, poor 
 man, a day or two since, — a circumstance which you seem to have 
 thought too worthless to mention to me. But there is-another matter, 
 on which I might at least have been consulted," he added, watching 
 steadily the chanj^es in the countenance of the young man, whose 
 heart fluttered with excitement. " You have formed an attachment 
 to some girl in the neighbourhood, which has reached the ears of this 
 Allan Lisle, although it never came to mine, and the intercourse has 
 continued for years, although I have been ignorant of it. Eonald, 
 uiy boy, who is the girl ? As your father, I have at least a right to 
 inquire her name and family." 
 
 Do pray excuse me," faltered the other, playing nervously with 
 his bonnet ; " I am too much embarrassed at present to reply, — some 
 other time. Ah ! your anger would but increase, I fear, were you 
 to know." 
 
 " It does increase ! Surely she is not a daughter of that grim churl 
 Corrieoich, up the glen yonder ? I have seen his tawdry kimmers at 
 the county ball. I can scarcely think this flame of yours is a child 
 of his. You remember the squabble I had with him about firing on 
 his people, who were dragging the loch with nets under the very 
 tower windows. By Heaven ! is she a daughter of his !" cried his 
 father, in the loud and imperative tone so natural to a Highlander. 
 '■ Answer me, I command you, Eonald Stuart ! " 
 
 '•'She is not, I pledge you my word," replied the young man, 
 gently. 
 
 " Eonald !" exclaimed the old gentleman, a dark flush gathering 
 on his cheek, " she must be some mean and contemptible object, 
 otherwise you would not shrink from the mention of her name, were 
 
 it gentle and noble, in this coward way.' 
 Coward I never w£ 
 
 cas," repUed Eonald, bitterly. " I may shrink 
 before my own father, when I would scorn to quail before the angry 
 eye of any other man who lives or breathes. Nor do I blush to own 
 the name of— of this lady. She is Alice, the daughter of Sir Allan 
 Lisle, of Inchavon. Ah, sir ! I fear 1 have applied a match to a 
 mine ; but I must await the explosion." 
 
 Eonald had indeed lighted a mine. A terrible expression flashed in 
 the eyes of the old Highlander, and gathered upon his formidable 
 brow. 
 
 " Eonald ! Eonald ; for this duplicity I was unprepared," he ex- 
 claimed in emphatic Gaelic, \\ith a tone of the bitterest reproach. 
 " Have you dared to address yourself to a daughter of that man ? 
 Look up, degenerate boy !" he added, grasping Eonald's arm "\\ith 
 fierce energy, while he spoke with stern distinctness. " Look upon 
 the portrait of old Ian Mhor, your brave grandsire, and imagine what 
 he would have thought of this. The Lisles of Inchavon ! Dhia 
 gledh sinn ! I have not forgotten their last hostile attempt sixty-five 
 years since, in 1746, when Colonel Lisle, the father of this Sir Allan, 
 besieged our tower with his whole battaUon. I was a mere infant 
 then ; but I well remember how fhe muskets of the fusihers flashed 
 daily and nightly from rock and copse-wood, and from the dark 
 loopholes of the tower, where the brave retainers of Lochisla defended 
 my father's stronghold vdth the desperate courage of outlawed and 
 ruined men, — ruined and outlawed in a noble cause ! These days of 
 death and siege I have not forgotten, nor the pale cheek of the 
 mother at whose breast I hung seeking nourishment, while she was 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 13 
 
 perishing for want of food. Nor have I forgotten the gallows-tree — 
 God be gracious unto me !— raised by the insolent soldiery on the 
 brae-head to hang our people when they surrendered ; and, had they 
 ever yielded, they would have swung every man of them, and have 
 been food for the raven and hoodiecraw. And this paternal tower 
 would have been now rumed and roofless, forming a lair for the fox 
 and the owl, but for the friendship of our kinsman Seafield, who 
 wrung a respite and reprieve from tlie unwilling hand of the merciless 
 German duke. 
 
 " Oh, Eonald Stuart ! remember these things, and recall some 
 traces of the spirit of Ian Mhor, whose name and blood you inherit. 
 He was a stern old man, and a proud one, possessing the spirit of the 
 days that are gone, — days when the bold son of the hills redressed 
 his wrongs with his own right hand, and held his lands, not by pos- 
 session of a sheepskin, but by the broad blade of his good claymore." 
 
 He paused a moment, passed his hand across his glowing brow, 
 and thus continued in a tone of sterner import, and more higli-flown 
 Gaelic. 
 
 " Listen to me, O Eonald ! Hearken to a father who has loved, 
 and watched, ana tended you as never father did a son. Think no 
 more of Inchavon's daughter ! Promise me to spurn her from your 
 remembrance or never more shall you find a home in the dwelUng- 
 place of our fathers : you shall be as a stranger to my heart, and 
 your name be known in Lochisla no more. I will cast you off as a 
 withered branch, and leave our ancient patrimony to the hereditary 
 chieftain of our race. Pledge me your word, or, Eonald, I pronounce 
 you for ever lost." 
 
 During this long and energetic harangue, which was dehvered in 
 the sonorous voice which Mr. Stuart always assumed with his 
 Gaehc, various had been the contending emotions in the bosom of 
 Eonald. Love and pride, indignation and filial respect, agitated him 
 by turns ; and when his father ceased, he took up his bonnet with 
 an air of pride and grief. 
 
 " Sir— sir— O my father ! " said he, while his pale lip quivered, and 
 a tear glittered in his dark eye, " you will be spared any further 
 trouble on my account. I will go ; leave Lochisla to the Stuarts of 
 Appin, or whom you may please. I will seek my fortune elsewhere, 
 and show you truly that' a brave man makes every soil his country.' " 
 
 As he turned to leave the apartment, the stern aspect of his 
 father's features relaxed, and he surveyed him with a wistful look. 
 
 " Stay, Eonald," he exclaimed ; " I have been hasty. You would 
 not desert me thus in my old age, and leave me Avith anger on your 
 brow ? Let not our pride overcome our natural affection. I will 
 speak of this matter again, and " 
 
 Here he was interrupted by Donald Iverach, who entered respect- 
 fully, bonnet in hand, bearing two long official-looking letters, which 
 he handed to Mr. Stuart, who started on perceiving " On Ms 
 Majesti/'s service " (an unusual notice to him) printed on the upper 
 corner of each. 
 
 " Hoigh ! " said the piper, "your honour's clory disna get twa sic 
 muckle letters ilka day. The auld doited cailloch tat keeps the 
 post-house down at the clachan of Strathfillan, sent a gilly trotting 
 up the water-side vd' them, as fast as his houghs could pring him." 
 
 Their contents became speedily known. The first was a letter 
 from the Horse Guards, informing Mr. Stuart that his son was 
 
14 THE EOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 api)ointed to an ensigncy in the 92nd regiment, or Gordon High- 
 landers, commanded by the Marquis of Huntly. Tlie second was to 
 Ronald himself, signed by the adjutant-general, directing him with, 
 nil speed to join a detachment which was shortly to leave the depot 
 m the Castle of Edinburgh for the seat of war. 
 
 Pride and pleasure at the new and varied prospect before hiiii 
 were the first emotions of lionald's mind ; sorrow and regret at 
 thoughts of parting so suddenly, perhaps for ever, from all that was 
 dear to him, succeeded them. 
 
 " Hoigh ! hui-uigh !" cried old Iverach, capering with Highland 
 agility on hearing the letters read. " Hui-uigh !" he exclaimed, 
 making the weapons clatter on the wall with his wild and startling 
 shout, while he tossed his bonnet up to the vaulted roof ; " and so 
 hraw Maister Ronald is going to the clorious wars, to shoot the 
 Prench loons like the muu'cocks o' Strathisla, or the bounie red 
 roes o' Benmore ! Hoigh ! Got tarn ! auld Iverach's son sail gang 
 too, and follow the laird's, as my ain father and mony a braw slientle- 
 man did auld Sir Ian Mhor to the muster o' Glenfiuan. And when 
 promotion is in the way, braw Maister Ronald Avill no forget puir 
 Evan Iverach, the son of his father's piper, that follows him for love 
 to the far-awa' land. And when the pipers blaw the onset, neither 
 o' them will forget the bonnie banks of Lochisla, and the true hearts 
 they have left behind them there. And when the onset is nigh, let 
 them shout the war-cry of their race : my prave prothers cried it on 
 the ramparts of Ticonderago, where the auld plack watch were mown 
 doon like grass, in a land far peyond the isles, where the sun sets in 
 the west." 
 
 As this enthusiastic retainer left the apartment to communicate 
 the news to the rest of the household, old Mr. Stuart turned to gaze 
 on his son. 
 
 The arrival of these letters had caused a vast change in their feel- 
 ings within the last five minutes ; all traces of discord had vanished, 
 and the softest feelings of our nature remained behind. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE DEPAETURE. 
 
 SoEROW for the sudden departure of Ronald was the prevaihng 
 sentiment in the tower of Lochisla, which old Janet the housekeeper 
 caused to re-echo with her ceaseless lamentations, poured forth either 
 in broken broad Scotch, or in her more poetical and descriptive 
 Gaelic, for the going forth of the bold boy whom she had watched 
 over and nursed from childhood with the tenderness of a mother. 
 
 His father felt deeply the pang of parting with the only child that 
 death had left him ; but he pent his feelings within his own proud 
 bosom, and showed them but httle. He said nothing more of Alice 
 Lisle, imwilling to sour the few remaining hours they had to spend 
 together by harsh injunctions or disagreeable topics^ deeming that 
 "Ronald, in the busy scenes which were before him m his military 
 career, would be taught to forget the boyish attachment of his early- 
 days. It is thus that old men ever reclcon, forgetting that the first 
 impressions which the young heart receives are ever the strongest 
 and most lasting. 
 
THE ROilANCE OF WAE. 15 
 
 He directed uith cool firmness the arrangements for Ms son's early 
 departure : and save now and then a quivering of the lip or a deep 
 sign, no other emotion was visible. He felt keenly, nor would he 
 ever have parted with Ronald, notwithstanding the eagerness of the 
 youth to join the army, hut for the entanglement of his private 
 affairs, which rendered it absolutely necessary that his son should be 
 independent of his shattered patrimony, and the proud and martial 
 disposition of both their minds made arms the only profession to be 
 chosen. 
 
 It was close upon the time of his departure ere Ronald could make 
 an arrangement to obtain an interview with Alice Lisle. He 
 despatched by Evan, the son of Iverach, a note to Alice, requesting 
 her to meet and bid him adieu, in the la^vn in front of Inchavon- 
 house, on the evening of the second day, referring her to the bearer 
 for a recapitulation of the events which had taken place. 
 
 The young Highlander, who was to accompany Ronald to the 
 regiment as a servant and follower, was as shrewd and acute as a 
 love- messenger required to be, and succeeded, after considerable 
 trouble and delay, in delivering the billet into tne fair hands of the 
 young lady herself, who, although she neither shrieked or fainted, 
 nor expired altogether, like a heroine of romance, was nevertheless 
 overwhelmed with the intelligence, which Evan related to her as 
 gently as he could ; and after promising to attend to the note without 
 fail, she retu'ed to her o^vn chamber, and gave way to the deepest 
 anguish. 
 
 At last arrived the important day which was to behold Ronald 
 launched from his peaceful Highland home into the stormy scenes 
 of a life which was new to him. Evan Iverach had been sent off in 
 the morning -with the baggage to the hamlet of Strathisla, where the 
 stage-coach for Perth was to take up his young master. 
 
 Sorrowful indeed was the parting between the old piper and his 
 son Evan Bean (i.e. fair-haired Evan), and theyAvere but little com- 
 forted by the assurance of the old crone Janet, who desired them to 
 " ' greet weel,' as their weird was read, and they would never meet 
 mair." 
 
 Ronald was seated with his father at breakfast [in the hall or 
 dining-room of the tower. The table was covered with viands of 
 every kind, exhibiting all the prrfuseness of a true Scottish break- 
 fast,— tea, coffee, cold venison, cteese, oaten bannocks, &c. &;c. &c., 
 and a large silver-mouthed bottle, c ontaining most potent usquebaugh, 
 distilled for the laird's own use by Alpin Oig Stuart in one of the 
 dark and dangerous chasms on the banks of the Isla, a spot unknown 
 to the exciseman, a personage much dreaded and abhorred in all 
 Highland districts. 
 
 The old cailloch, Janet, was in attendance, weeping and muttering 
 to herself. Iverach was without the tower, making the yard ring to 
 the spirit-stirring notes of— 
 
 '• We'll awa to Shirramuir, 
 All' baud the wliigs iii order j" 
 
 and he strode to and fro, blowing furiously, as if to keep up the 
 failiiig spirit of his tough old heart. 
 
 Mr. Stuart said little, but took his morning meal as usual. Now 
 and then he bit his nether lip, his eye glistened, and his brow was 
 knit, to disguise the painful emotions that filled his heart. 
 
 Ronald ate but little, and sat totally silent, gazing with swimming 
 
16 THE BOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 eyes, vf hile his heart swelled almost to bursting, on the lofty hills and 
 dark pine-woods, which, perchance, he might never more behold ; 
 and the sad certainty that slowly passing years would elapse ere he 
 again stood by his paternal hearth, or beheld his father's face,— if, 
 indeed, he was ever to behold it again, — raised within him emotions 
 of the deepest sadness. 
 
 "Alas I" thought he, ''how many years may roll away oefore I 
 again look on all I have loved so long ; and what dismal changes 
 may not have taken place in that time ! " 
 
 "Hui-uigh! Ochon — ochanari!" cried the old woman, unable to 
 restrain herself longer, as she sunk upon a settle in the recess of the 
 hall ^nndow. " He is going forth to the far awa land of the stranger, 
 where the hoodiecraw and fox pyke the banes of the dead brave ; but 
 he winna return to us, as the eagle's brood return to their eyrie 
 among the black cliffs o' bonnie Craigonan." 
 
 "He shall ! old woman. What mean you by these disheartening 
 observations in so sad an hour as this?" said the old gentleman 
 sternly, roused by that prophetic tone which never falls without 
 effect on the ear of a Scottish Highlander. 
 
 "Dinna speak sae to me, laird. God sain me! I read that in liis 
 bonnie black een which tells me that they shall never again look on 
 mine." 
 
 " Hoigh ! prutt, trutt," said Iverach, whom her cry had sum- 
 moned to the spot, " the auld teevil of a cailloch will pe casting doon 
 ]\Iaister Ronald's heart when it should pe at the stoutest. Huisht, 
 Janet, and no be bedevilling us with Aisions and glaumorie just 
 the noo." 
 
 " Donald Iverach, I tell you he shall never more behold those whom 
 he looks on this day : I tell you so, and I never spoke in vain," cried 
 the old sibyl in Gaelic, with a shrill voice. " "When the brave sons 
 of my bosom perished ^nth their leader at Corunna, did I not know 
 of their fall the hour it happened ? The secret feeling, which a 
 tongue cannot describe, informed me that they were no more. Yes ; 
 I heard the wild wind howl their death-song, as it swept down the 
 pass of Craigonan, and I viewed their shapeless spirits floating in the 
 black mist that clung round the tower of Lochisla on the night the 
 field of Corunna was stricken, for many were the men of our race 
 who perished there : the dead-bell sung to me the live-long night, 
 and our caillochs and maidens were sighing and sad, — but I alone 
 knew why.^' 
 
 " Peace ! bird of ill omen," replied the piper, in the same language, 
 overawed by the force of her words, — " X>hia gledh sinn ! will you 
 break the proud spirit of a duinhe-ivassal of the house of Lochisla, 
 when about to gird the claymore and leave the roof-tree of his 
 fathers?" 
 
 "Come, come; we have had enough of this," said IMr. Stuart. 
 " Eetire, Janet, and do not by your unseemly grief disturb the last 
 hours that my son and I shall spend together." 
 
 " A wreath, and 'tis not for nought, is coming across my auld een," 
 she replied, pressing her withered hands upon her wrinkled brovv^ 
 " Sorrow and woe are before us all. I have seen it in many a dark 
 dream ai midnicht, and heard it in the croak of the nicht-bird, as it 
 screamed from its eyrie in Coirnan-Taischatrin, where the wee men 
 and Avomen dance their rings in the bonnie moonlicht. Greet and 
 be woefu' mv braw bairn ^^r we shall never behold ye mair. 
 
THE ROMANCE OE WAE. 17 
 
 Ochon— oction !" aild pressing Eonald to her breast, this faithful old 
 dependant rushed from the hall. 
 
 "Grief has distracted the poor old creature," said Mr. Stuar^ 
 making a strong effort to control the emotions which swelled his own 
 bosom ; while Eonald no longer concealed his, but covering his face 
 with his hands, wept freely, and the piper began to blubber and sob 
 in company. 
 
 " Hoigh ! oigh ! Got tarn ; it's joost naething but fairies' spells and 
 glaumorie that's ever and aye in auld Janet's mouth. She craiks 
 and croaks like the howlets in the auld chapel-isle, till it's gruesome 
 to hear her. But dinna mind her, Maister Ronald ; I'll blaw up the 
 bags, and cheer your heart wi' the 'gathering' on the honnj piob 
 mJicr." The piper retired to the yard, where the cotters and many a 
 shepherd from the adjacent hills were assembled to behold Ronald 
 depart, and bid him farewell. 
 
 Ronald's father, the good old man, although his heart was wrung 
 and oppressed by the dismal forebodings of his retainer, did all that 
 he possibly could to raise the drooping spirits of his son, by holding 
 out hopes of quick promotion and a speedy return home ; but Ronald 
 wept like a youth as he was, and answered only by his tears. 
 
 " Oh, Ronald, my boy ! " groaned the old man, " it is in an hour 
 such as this that I most feel the loss of her whose fair head has long, 
 long been under the grassy turf which covers her fair-haired little 
 ones in the old churchyard yonder. The sun is now shining through 
 the window of the ruined chapel, and I see the pine which marks 
 their graves tossing its branches in the light." He looked fixedly 
 across the loch at the islet, the grassy surface of which was almost 
 covered with grey tombstones, beneath which slept the retainers of 
 his ancestors, who themselves rested among the Gothic ruins of the 
 httle edifice, which their piety had endowed and founded to St. John, 
 the patron saint of Perth. 
 
 The day sped fast away, and the hour came in which Ronald was 
 compelled to depart, if he would be in time for the Perth stage, 
 which passed through Strathisla. His father accompanied him to the 
 gate of the tower, where he embraced and blessed him. He then 
 turned to depart, after shaking the hard hand of many an honest 
 mountaineer. 
 
 " May Got's plessing and all goot attend ye ! Maister Ronald,'* 
 blubbered old Iverach, who was with difficulty prevented from piping 
 before him down the glen ; " and dinna forget to befriend poor Evan 
 Bean, that follows ye for love." 
 
 A sorrowful farewell in emphatic Gaelic was muttered through the 
 court as Ronald, breaking from among them, rushed down the steep 
 descent, as if anxious to end the painful scene. His father gazed 
 wistfully after, as if his very soul seemed to follow his steps. Ronald 
 looked back but once, and then dashed on as fast as his strength 
 could carry him ; but that look he never, never forgot. 
 
 The old man had reverently taken off his hat, allowing his silver 
 hair to stream in the wind, and with eyes upturned to heaven was 
 fervently ejaculating — "Oh, God ! that hearest me, be a father unto 
 my poor boy, and protect him in the hour of danger !" 
 
 It was the last time that Ronald beheld the face of his father, and 
 deeply was the memory of its expression impressed upon his heart. 
 Not daring again to turn his head, he hurried alon" the mountain- 
 path, until he came to a turn of the glen which would hide the much- 
 
18 THE EOMXNCE OF WAS. 
 
 loved spot for ever. Here be turned and looked back : bis father 
 was no longer visible, but tbcre stood the well-known tower, rising 
 above the neb copse-land, ^vitb tbo. grey smoke from its huge kitchen- 
 chimney curbng over the battlements in the evening wind, which 
 Drought to liis ear the wail of Iverach's bagpipe. The smooth surface 
 of the loch shone with purple and gold in the light of the settmg sun, 
 the rays of which fell obliquely as its flaming orb appeared to rest on 
 the huge dark mountains of the western Highlands. 
 
 " Ah ! never shall I behold a scene like this in the land to which I 
 go," thought Eonald, as he cast one eager glance over it all ; and 
 then, entering the deep rocky gorge, through which the road wound, 
 hurried towards the romantic hamlet of Strathisla, the green mossy 
 roofs and 'curhng smoke of which he saw through the tufts of birch 
 and pine a short distance before him. 
 
 It ^vas dusk before he reached the cluster of primitive cottages, at 
 the door of one of wliich, dignified by the name of " the coach-office," 
 stood Evan"uith the baggage, impatiently awaiting the appearance of 
 his master, as the time for the arrival of the coach was close at hand. 
 Telhng him hastily that he would meet the vehicle on the road near 
 Inchavon-park, he passed forward to keep his promise to AUce. A 
 few minutes' walk brought him to the boundary-wall of Sir Allan's 
 proiYerty ; vaulting lightly over, he found himself among the thickets 
 of shrubs which vs'ere planted here and there about the smooth grassy 
 lawTi, in the centre of which appeared Inchavon-hoitse, a iiandsome 
 modem structm-e : the lofty w^alls and portico of fine Corinthian 
 columns, surmounted by a small dome, all shone in the light of the 
 summer moon, by Avhich he saw the glimmer of a white dress 
 advancing hastily towards him. 
 
 At that instant the sound of the coach, as it came ratthng and 
 rumbling down a neighbouring hill, struck his ear, and his heart died 
 ■within him, as he knew it would be there almost immediately. 
 
 "Alice !" he exclaimed, as he threw one arm passionately around 
 iier. 
 
 " Eonald, O Eonald !" was all the weeping girl could articulate, cvs 
 she clung to him tremblingly. 
 
 " Eemember me when I am gone. Love' me as you do now when 
 I shall be far, far away from you, Alice ! " 
 
 '' Ah, how could I ever forget you ! " 
 
 At that moment the unwelcome vehicle drew up on the road. 
 
 " Stuart — 'Eonald, my old comrade," cried the frank though fal- 
 tering voice of Le\vis Lisle, who appeared at that moment ; " give me 
 your hand, my boy. You surely would not go without seeing me ?" 
 
 Eonald pressed the hand of Lewis, who threw over his neck a 
 chain, at which hung a miniature of his sister. 
 
 " Ak3 ! " muttered Eonald, " I have nothing to give as a keepsake 
 in retiiin ! Ay, this ring — 'tis a very old one, but it was my mother's ; 
 wear it for my sake, Alice." To kiss her pale cheek, place her in the 
 arms of Lewis, to cross the park and leap the wall, were to the young 
 Highlander the work of a moment, — and he vanished from their 
 side. 
 
 '■' Come alang, sir ! TTe canna be keepit here the haill nicht," 
 bawled the driver, crossly, as Eonald appeared upon the road, where 
 the white steam was curling from the four panting horses in the 
 moonUght, w^hich revealed Evan, seated with the goods and chattels' 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 19 
 
 of himself and master among the muflled-up passengers who loaded 
 the coach-top, 
 
 " Inside, sir !" said the guard from beliind the shawl which muffled 
 liis weather-beaten face as he held open the door. Eonald, scarcely 
 knowing what he did, stepped in, and the door closed with a bang 
 which made the driver rock on his seat. " A' richt, Jamie ; drive 
 on ! " cried the guard, vaulting into the dickey ; and in a few minutes 
 mere the noise of wheels and hoofs had died away from the ears of 
 poor Alice and her brother, who listened with beating hearts to the 
 retiring souui. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EDIIfBUEGH CASTLE. 
 
 The yoii'ig Highlander, "o^ho had never beheld a larger city than 
 Perth, was greatly struck with the splendid and picturesque appear- 
 ance of Edinburgh. The long lines of densely-crowded streets, the 
 antique and lofty houses, the spires, the towers, the enormous bridges 
 spanning deep ravines, the long dark alleys, crooks, nooks, and cor- 
 ners of the old town, with its commanding castle ; and then the new, 
 with its innumetable and splendid shops, filled with rich and costly 
 stufis, the smoke, noise, and confusion of the great thoroughfares and 
 promenades, contrasted "with the sombre and gloomy grandeur of the 
 Canongate and Holyrood, were all strange sights to one who from 
 infancy had been accustomed to " the eagle and the rock, the moun- 
 tain and the cataract, the blue-bell, the heather, and the long yellow 
 broom, the Highland pipe, the hill-climbing warrior, and the humbler 
 shepherd in the garb of old Gaul." 
 
 Prom the castle he viewed with surprise and delight the vast 
 amphitheatre v/hich surrounds the city. To the westward Corstor- 
 phine, covered to the summit with the richest foliage, Craiglockart, 
 JBlackford, the ridges of Braid and Pentlaud, the Calton, the craigs 
 of Salisbury and Arthur's Seat, encirchng the city on all sides, ex- 
 cept the north, where the noble Frith of Forth, — the Bodoria of the 
 Eomans, — the most beautiful stream in Scotland, perhaps in Britain, 
 wound along the yeUow sands. 
 
 Par beyond were seen the Lomonds of Fife, the capes of Crail and 
 Ehe, the broad bays and indentures of the German Ocean, and the 
 :3:ets of the Forth, the banks of which are studded with villages, 
 castles, churches, and rich woodland. As he entered the fortress, he 
 •was particularly struck Avith the gloomy and aged appearance ot its 
 embattled buildings and lofty fro"m,iing batteries, where the black 
 cannon peeped grimly through antique embrasures. It was a place 
 particularly interesting to Eonald (as it is to every true Scotsman), 
 who thought of the prominent part it bore in the annals of his 
 country, — of the many sieges it bed sustained, and the many cele- 
 brated persons who had lived and died within the walls, which held 
 the crown and insignia of a race whose name and power had passed 
 away from the land they had ruled and loved so long. 
 
 Kilted sentinels, wearing the plumed bonnet, tasselled sporan or 
 purse, and the dark tartan, striped with yellow, of the Gordon High- 
 
 c2 
 
20 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 lander?, aj^peared at the different bastions as he passed the draw- 
 bridge, entered through many a strong gate studded ^vith iron, and 
 the black old arcli where the two portcuUises of massive metal hang 
 suspended. 
 
 Konald, for the first time since he left home, found himself con- 
 founded and abashed when he was received by the haughty stafl- 
 otlicer in the cold and stiff manner which these gentlemen assume 
 to regimental officers. Here he reported himself^as the phrase is, 
 and presented the letters of the adjutant-general. It was in a gloomy 
 apartment of the old palace, and the very place in which the once 
 beautiful Mary of Guise breathed her last. Its furniture consisted 
 of two chairs and a hardwood table covered with books, army-lists, 
 papers, and dockets of letters : boards of general orders, a couple of 
 swords, and forage-caps, hung upon the wall. A drum stood in one 
 corner ; and an unseemly cast-iron coal-box, bearing the mystic 
 letters " B. 0.," stood in another. A decanter of port and a -wine- 
 glass, which appeared on the mantel-shelf, showed that the occupant 
 of the office knew the secret of making himself comfortable. 
 
 Considerably damped in spirit, by the dry and unsoldierlOce recep- 
 tion he had experienced, Ronald next sought the quarters of the 
 officer who commanded the detachment of his own regiment. On 
 quitting the citadel, he passed the place where the Prench prisoners 
 of war were confined. It was a small piece of ground, enclosed by a 
 strong pahsado, over which the poor fellows displayed for sale those 
 ornaments and toys which the ingenuity of their nation enabled them 
 to make. Little ships, toothpicks, bodkins, dominoes, boxes, &c., 
 were manufactured by them from the bones of their scanty allow- 
 ance of ration meat, and offered for sale to the soldiers of the gar- 
 rison, or visitors from the city who chanced to pass the place of their 
 confinement. 
 
 They appeared to be generally very merry, and were dressed in the 
 peculiar uniform of the prison ; but here and there might be ob- 
 served an officer, who, having broke his parole of honour, was now 
 degraded by being placed among the rank and file. E-onald was .but 
 a young soldier, and consequently pitied them ; he thought of what 
 his own feelings would be were he a prisoner in a foreign land, with 
 the bayonets of guards gUttering at every turn ; but there seemed to 
 be none there who yearned for home or hearts they had left behind 
 them, save one ; and of him we will speak hereafter. The reception 
 Ronald met with from the officers of his own corps tended much to 
 revive his drooping spirits, which were for some time sadly depressed 
 by the remembrance of Lochisla, and the affectionate friends he had 
 left behind him there. 
 
 Among the officers were young men who, like himself, had recently 
 left their homes in the distant north, and a unison of feehng existed 
 in their minds ; but, generally, they were merry, thoughtless fellows, 
 and the vivacity of their conversation, the frolics in which they wer& 
 ever engaged, and the bustle of the garrison, were capital antidotes 
 against care. But the tear often started to the eye of Stuart as he 
 beheld the far-off peak of Ben Lomond, fifty miles distant from the 
 window of his room, — his rank as a subaltern entitling him only to 
 one, and he thought of the romantic hills of Perthshire, or of the 
 lonely hearth where his gre^-haired sire mourned for his absence. 
 But little time was allowed him to muse thus. Parades in the castle, 
 the promenades, theatres, the gay blaze of ball-rooms in the city 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 21 
 
 crowded with beautiful and fashionable girls and gUttering uniforms, 
 .eft him little time for reflection ; and the day of embarkation for 
 the Peninsula, the seat of war, to which all men's thoughts— and 
 women's too — were turned, insensibly drew nigh. 
 
 Evan Iverach had been enlisted in his master's company, and 
 under the hands of a regimental tailor, and the tuition of the drill 
 sergeant, was rapidly becoming a smart soldier, while he still re- 
 mained an attached servant to his master. 
 
 The latter, soon after his arrival in the capital, had visited his 
 father's agent, Mr. jEneas Macquirk, a writer to the signet, who had 
 long transacted the business and fleeced the pocket of the old laird 
 in the most approved legal manner. This worthy, having lately 
 procured the old gentleman's signature to a document wmch was 
 ultimately to be his ruin, was therefore disposed to treat Ronald 
 drily enough, havhag made the most of his father ; and he would 
 never have been invited to the snug front-doorhouse, with the car- 
 peted staircase, comfortable dining and airy drawing-room in the 
 new town, but for the vanity of Mrs. and the Misses Macquirk, who 
 thought that the rich uniform of the young officer as a visitor gave 
 their house a gay and fashionable air. 
 
 Quite the reverse of the good old " clerks to the signet" who once 
 dwelt in the dark closes of the old city, Macquirk was one of the 
 many contemptible fellows whose only talent is chicanery, and who 
 fatten and thrive on that unfortunate love of Utigation which pos- 
 sesses the people ot Scotland. Mean and servile to the rich, he was 
 equally purse-proud and overbearing to the poor, to whom he was 
 a savage and remorseless creditor. Many were the unfortunate 
 citizens who cursed the hour in which they first knew this man, whc 
 feathered his nest by the law, better than ever his father had don 
 by the honester trade of mending shoes in the "West Bow. 
 
 Mrs. Macquirk was a vulgar-looking woman, most unbecoming!,.' 
 fat ; her money had procured her a husband, and she was as proud 
 as could be expected, considering that she had first seen the light in 
 the low purlieus of the Kraimes, and now found herself mistress of 
 one of the handsomest houses in Edinburgh. 
 
 The young ladies were more agreeable, being rather good-looking 
 but very afiected, having received all the accomplishments that it was 
 in the power of their slighted and brow-beaten governess, the daugh- 
 ter of a good but unfortunate family, to impart to them. They gave 
 parties, that Ronald might show off the uniform of the Gordon 
 Highlanders, and played and sung to him in their best style ; while 
 he drew many comparisons between them and the Alice wh'ose mi- 
 niature he wore in his bosom, by which they lost immensely ; and 
 while listening to their confused foreign airs and songs, he thought 
 how much sweeter and niore musical were the tones of Alice Lisle, 
 when she sung " The Eirks of- Invermay," or any other melody of 
 the mountains, making his heart vibrate to her words. But even in 
 the Castle of Edinburgh Ronald had recently made a friend, whose 
 society, in spite of military and Highland gallantry, he preferred to 
 that of the daughters of Macquirk. 
 
 Among the French captives within the stockade, he had frequently 
 observed a young officer who remained apart from the rest, the deep 
 dejection and abstraction of whose air gained him the readily-ex- 
 cited sympathy of the young Highlander. He was a tall, handsome, 
 well-shaped young man, -^ith regular features dark eyes and a heavy 
 
22 THE nOMiJN^CE OF WAE. 
 
 black moustache on his upper lip. He wore the uniform of Napo- 
 leon's famous Imperial Guards ; but the once gay epaulette and lace 
 were much worn and faded. He ■wore a long scarlet forage-cap, 
 adorned with a band, a tassel falling over his right shoulder. The 
 .cold cross of the Legion of Honour dangling ai his breast showed 
 fhat he had seen service, and distinguished himself. 
 
 He had more than once observed the peculiar look with which 
 "Ronald Stuart had eyed him ; and on one occasion, with the poUte- 
 ness of his nation, he gracefully touched his cap. The Scotsman 
 bowed, and beckoned him to a retired part of the pahsado. 
 
 " Can you speak our lanjiuage, sir ?" asked he. 
 
 " Oh. yes, JNIonsieur oMcier," repUed the rrenchman ; " I have 
 learned it in the prison." 
 
 " I regret much to see you, an officer, placed here among the com- 
 mon rank and file. How has such an event come to pass ? Can I in 
 anv way assist you ? " 
 
 ' Monsieur, I thank you ; you are very good, but it is not pos- 
 sible," stammered the Frenchman in confusion, his sun-burned cheek 
 reddening while he spoke. " Croix Dieu ! yours are the first words 
 of true kindness that I have heard since I left my ovra home, in our 
 pleasant France. O, monsieur, I could almost weep ! I am degraded 
 among my fellow-soldiers, my freres cfarmes. I have broken my 
 parole of honour, and am placed among the private men ; confined 
 within this palisado by day, and these dark vaults by night," — point- 
 ing to the ancient dungeons which lie alonj? the south side of the 
 rocks, and are the most antique part of the fortress. These gloomy 
 places were the allotted quarters of the French prisoners in Edin- 
 burgh, 
 
 " I have been placed here in consequence of a desperate attempt I 
 made to escape from the depot (Greenlaw I think it is named), at 
 the foot of these high mountains. I perceive you pity me, mon- 
 sieur, and indeed I am very miserable." 
 
 " I dare swear the penance of captivity is great ; but 'tis the for- 
 tune of war, and may be my own chance very soon." 
 
 "Ah, monsieur !" said the Frenchman, despondingly, "to me it is 
 as death. But 'tis not the mal du pays, the home sickness, so com- 
 mon among the Switzers and you Scots, that preys upon my heart. 
 Did you know my story, and all that afflicts me, your surprise at the 
 dejection in which I appear sunk would cease. I endure much, 
 misery here : our prison allowance is scant, my uniform is all gone 
 to rags, and I have not wherewith to procure other clothing. We 
 are debarred from many comforts — " The blood rose to the temples 
 of the speaker, who suddenly ceased on perceiving that Eonald had 
 drawTi forth his purse. He could ill spare the money, but he pressed 
 it upon the Frenchman, by whom, after much hesitation, the gift 
 was accepted. 
 
 " It was not my intention to have excited your chanty," said he, 
 " but I take the purse as a gift from one brother soldier to another, 
 and will share it among my poor comrades. Though our nations be 
 at y^zx, freres d'armes we all are, monsieur ; and should it ever be in 
 his power, by Heaven and St. Louis ! Victor d'Estouville will requite 
 your kindness. If by the fortune, or rather misfortune, of war, you 
 ever become a prisoner in my native country, you will find that the 
 memory of la Oarde Ecossaise and your brave nation, which our 
 
THE 1I03JA27CE OF WAE. 23 
 
 old kings loved so long and well, and the sufferings of the fair Marie, 
 are not yet forgotten in la belle France." 
 
 " I trust my destiny will never lead me to a captivity in 1 ranee, 
 or elsewhere. But keep a stout heart; the next cartel that brings 
 an exchange of prisoners may set you free." 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! I know not what may have happened at home before 
 that comes to pass. Monsieur, you have become my friend, and havo 
 therefore a right to my confidence ; my story shall be related to you 
 as briefly as possible. My name is d'Estouville. I am descended 
 from one of the best famihes in Prance, of which my ancestors were 
 peers, and possessed large estates in the province of Normandy,— a 
 name which finds an echo, methinks, in your sister kingdom. By 
 the late revolution, in which my father lost his life, all our lands 
 were swept from us, with the exception of a small cottage in the 
 neighbourhood of Henriciueville, situated in the fertile valley where 
 the thick woods and beautiful vineyards lie intermingled along the 
 banks of the winding Seine ; and to this spot my poor mother with 
 her fatherless children retired. Ah, monsieur! 'twas a charming 
 little place : methinks I see it now, the low-roofed cottage, }yith the 
 vines and roses growing round its roof and chimneys, and in at the 
 little lattices that glistened in the sunshine,— every green lane and 
 clump of shadowy trees, and every silver rill around it. 
 
 "■ Living by our own industry, we were happy enough ; my brother 
 and myself increased in strength and manliness, as my sisters did in 
 beauty ; and the sweetness of my noble mother's temper, together 
 with the quiet and unassuming tenour of our lives, rendered us the 
 favourites of all the inhabitants of the valley of Lillebonne. 
 
 "Monsieur, I loved a fair girl in our neighbourhood, a near relation 
 of my own,— Diane de Montmichel, a beautiful brunette, with dark 
 hair and sparkling eyes. Oh ! could we but see Diane now ! 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! The very day on which I was to have wedded her 
 was fixed, and the future seemed full of every happiness ; but the 
 great Emperor wanted men to fight his battles, and by one conscrip- 
 tion the whole youth of the valley of Lillebonne were drawn away. 
 My brother and myself were among them. Ah, monsieur ! Napo- 
 leon thinks not of the agony of French mothers, and the bitter tears 
 that are wept for every conscription. Britain recruits her armies 
 with thousands of free volunteers, who tread by their own free-will 
 the path of honour. Prance — but we will not talk of this. Our 
 poor peasant boys were torn from their cottages and vineyards, from 
 the arms of their parents and friends ; we felt our lie?.rts swelling 
 within us ; but to resist was to die. O, monsieur ! what must have 
 been the thoughts of my high-minded mother when she beheld her 
 sons — the sons of a noble peer of old Prance — drawn from her roof 
 to carry the musket as private soldiers — " 
 
 " And Diane de Montmichel ? " 
 "" " In a few months I found myself fighting the battles of the great 
 Emperor as a soldier of his Imperial Guard, the flower of la belle 
 France. In our first engagement with the enemy, my brave brother 
 fell — poor Henri ! But why should I regret him ? He fell gaining 
 fame for Prance, and died nobly Avith the eagle on his breast and the 
 folds of the tricolour waving over him. Since then I have distin- 
 guished myself, was promoted, and received from the hand of N 
 feon this gold cross, which had once hung on his own proud 
 
24 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 I received it amidst the dead and the dving, on a field where the hot 
 blood of brave men had been poured forth as water. From that 
 moment I was more than ever his devoted soldier. He had kindled 
 in my breast the fire of martial ambition^ which softer love ad 
 caused to slumber. I now looked forward joyously to quick promo- 
 tion, and my return to poor Diane and my mother's vine-covered 
 cot in happy Lillebonne. But my hopes were doomed to be blasted. 
 I was taken prisoner in an unlucky charge, and transmitted with 
 some thousand more to this country. 
 
 " O, monsieur ! not even the pledge of my most sacred honour as 
 a gentleman and soldier could bind me while love and ambition filled 
 my heart. I mourned the monotonous life of a military prisoner, 
 and fled from the dep6t at Greenlaw ; but I was retaken a day after, 
 and sent to this strong fortress, where for three long and weary 
 years I have been confined among the common file. O, monsieur ! 
 Diane — my mother — my sisters ! what sad changes may not have 
 happened among them in that time ! " 
 
 He covered his face for a moment with his hand to hide bis 
 emotion. 
 
 "Adieu, monsieur ! Should we ever meet where it is in my power 
 to return your kindness, you vnH find that I can be grateful, and re- 
 member that in his distress you regarded Victor d'Estouville, not as 
 a Frenchman and an enemy, but as a brother officier under mis- 
 fortunes." 
 
 He ceased, and bowing low, retired from the palisado to mingle 
 among the prisoners. 
 
 Since his arrival in the capital, E-onald had received many letters 
 from home, but none from Alice Lisle ; he was deterred from writing 
 to her, fearing that his letters mighi fall into other hands than her 
 ovrn, and he grew sad as the day of embarkation drew near, and he 
 heard not from the fair girl, whose httle miniature afibrded him a 
 pleasing object for contemplation in his melancholy moods. 
 
 On the morning after the arrival of the route, Ronald was awakened 
 from sleep about daybreak, by the sound of the bagpipe, which in his 
 dreaming ear carried him home : he almost fancied himself at Loch- 
 isla, and that old Iverach was piping to the morning sun, when other 
 sounds caused him to start. He sprang up, and looked from the 
 lofty old window into the gloomy court of the castle. Ronald 
 Macdonuildhu, the piper, was blowing forth the regimental gathering, 
 the wild notes of which were starthng the echoes of the ancient 
 fortress, and rousing the soldiers, who were thronging forth in heavy 
 marching order — as the military term is — completely accoutred. 
 
 " Come, Stuart, my boy, turn up !" cried Alister Macdonald, a 
 brother ensign, who entered the room unceremoniously, " you will 
 be late ; we march in ten minutes, and then good-bye to the crowded 
 ball-rooms and fair girls of Edinburgh." 
 
 " I had no idea the morning was so far advanced," replied Ronald, 
 di'essing himself as fast as possible. " There goes the roll of the 
 drum now ; why, they are falling in." 
 
 " The deuce ! I must go, or our hot-headed commander, the major, 
 may forget that I am a kinsman from the Isle of the Mist. This 
 morning he is as cross as a bear with a sore head, and ey.yends his 
 ill-humour on the acting adjutant, who in turn expends his on 
 the men. There is the sound of Black Ronald's pipe again • I must 
 be off," and he left the apartment. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 25 
 
 " Come, Evan, bustle about, and get me harnessed ! Push this 
 oelt under my epaulette, bring me my sword and bonnet ; be quick, 
 will you ? " cried Ronald to his follower, who, accoutred for the 
 march with his heavy knapsack on his back, entered the room, " You 
 will look after the baggage. "Where are the trunks, and other et 
 center a ?" 
 
 " A' on the road to Leith twa hoors syne." 
 
 "What, in the dark ? " 
 
 "Ay, maister, just in the dark. Three muckle carts, piled like 
 towers, wi' kists and wives an' weans on the tap, an' pans and camp- 
 kettles jingling frae ilka neuk and corner, — an' unco like flitten' as 
 ever I saw." 
 
 With Evan's assistance, his master was garbed and armed. On 
 descending to the castle square, he found the detachment, to the 
 number of three hundred men, formed in line, motionless and silent. 
 Sonald was particularly struck with the martial and service -like 
 appearance of the Highlanders, by the combination which their cos- 
 ^ume exhibits of the " garb of old Gaul " with the rich uniform of 
 Great Britain. The plumed bonnets, drooping gracefully over the 
 right shoulder, the dark tartan, the hairy purses, the glittering 
 appointments, and long line of muscular '•bare knees, together with 
 the gloomy and antique buildings of the fortress, formed a scene at 
 once wild and picturesque ; but Ronald had httle time for surveying 
 it. 
 
 There is something peculiarly gallant and warlike in the dashing 
 appearance of our Highland soldiers, which brings to the mind the 
 recollections of those days when the swords of our ancestors swept 
 before them the martial legions of Rome — imperial Rome, whose 
 arms had laid prostrate the powers of half a world — of the later deeds 
 of Bannockburn, and many other battles — the remembrance of our 
 ancient kings and regal independence — all "the stirring memory of 
 a thousand years," raising a flush of proud and tumultuous feelings 
 in the breast of every Scotsman, who beholds in these troops the 
 brave representatives of his country; troops who, in every clime 
 under the sun, have maintained untarnished her ancient glory and 
 her name. So thought Ronald, and he was proud to consider him«^ 
 self one of them, as he drew his sword and took his place in the 
 ranks. 
 
 The rattling bayonets were fixed, and flashed in the morning sun . 
 as the muskets were shouldered and " sloped," the line broke into 
 sections, and moving off to the stirring sound of the fife and drum, 
 began to descend the steep and winding way to the gate of the fortress. 
 
 The idea of departing for foreign service had something elevating 
 and exciting in it, which pleased the minds of all, but roused to the 
 utmost the romantic spirit of Ronald Stuart, whose ear was pleased 
 with the tread of the marching feet and snarp roll of the drums 
 resounding in the hollow archway ; as was his eye, with the waving 
 feathers and glittering weapons of the head of the little column, as 
 they descended the pathway towards the city. 
 
 As they passed through the latter towards Leith, the streets were 
 almost empty, none being abroad at that earl;,' hour, save here and 
 there, within the ancient royalty, an old city guardsman, armed with 
 his Lochaber axe; but the head of many a drowsy citizen io his 
 night-cap appeared at the 'windows, from which many an eye gazed 
 with that interest which the embarkation of troops for the seat of war 
 
16 THE EOMA^CE OF WAH. 
 
 always called forth ; for many wore marcliinpc there who were doomed 
 to leave their bones in the distant soil of the Frank or Spaniard. 
 Many relatives and friends of the soldiers accompanied their march, 
 and IJonald was -witness of many a painful parting between those who 
 might never meet again. 
 
 " O my bairn ! my puir deluded bairn !" exclaimed an aged woman 
 wildly, as she rushed into the ranks with her grey hairs falling over 
 her face, and with streaming eyes, clasped a son round the neck ; 
 *' O lang, lang will it be till I see ye again ; and oh, when you are far 
 awa frae bonnie Glencorse, wha \nll tend ye as your auld forsaken 
 mither has dune ? she that has toiled, and watched ower, and prayed 
 for ye, since ye first saw the licht. O Archy, my doo, speak ;' let me 
 hear your voice for the last time \" 
 
 " God be wi' ye, mither ! O leave me ! or my heart vsill burst in 
 iwa," sobbed the poor fellov/, while some of his more thoughtless 
 comrades endeavoured by jests and ill-timed merriment to raise his 
 drooping spirits ; and many a heai'ty but sorrowful "Gude bye," and 
 " Eareweel," was interchanged on all sides as they passed along. The 
 sun was high in the sky when they halted on the beach at Leith ; and 
 above a thick morning mist, which rested on the face of the water, 
 Honald saw the lofty taper spars and smart rigging of the large 
 transport which lay out in the stream, with her white canvass hang- 
 ing loose, and " blue peter" flying at the fore-mast head. 
 
 As boat after boat, mth its freight of armed men, was pulled off 
 towards the vessel, shouts loud and long arose from the sailors and 
 idlers on the pier and quays; and stirring were the cheers in reply 
 which arose from the boats and floated along the surface of the river, 
 as the Highlanders waved their bonnets in farewell to those they 
 left behind. Certainly, like many others, E-onald did not feel at his 
 ease when on board the vessel, and he became confused with the 
 tramp of feet, the bustle, the rattle of arms, the loud chant of the 
 sailors weighing anchor, the clash of the windlass pals, the pulhng, 
 hauling, ordering, and swearing, on all sides, — sights and sounds to 
 him alike new and wonderful. The smell of tar, grease, bilge-water, 
 tobacco, and a hundred other disagreeable odours, assailed him, and 
 he felt by anticipation the pleasures of sea-sickness. 
 
 As soon as the anchor swung suspended at the bow, the yards were 
 braced sharp up, the canvass filled, and the ripple which arose at the 
 bow announced the vessel under weigh. She slowly passed the light- 
 house which terminates the old stone pier, and rounding.the strong 
 Martello tower, moved dovni the glassy waters of the broad and noble 
 Forth. 
 
 The oflicers were grouped together on the poop, and their soldiers 
 lined the side of the vessel, gazing on the city towering above the 
 morning mist, which was rolhng heavily and slowly along the bases 
 of the hills in huge white volumes. The frowning and precipitous 
 front of the bold, craigs of Salisbury — the still greater elevation of 
 Arthur's lofty cone — the black and venerable fortress — the tall spires 
 and houses of the city — the romantic hUls of Braid — the wooded 
 summit of Corstorphine — and the undulating line of the gigantic 
 Pentlands, were all c bjects which riveted their attention ; and many 
 a lM*ave man was there whose heart swelled within him while ho 
 gazed, for the last time, perhaps, on the green mountains and ancient? 
 capita^ of Caledonia, 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WA.E. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 rOEEIGN" SEEYICE. 
 
 A MONTH or two more found Eonald with his comrades, after 
 being landed at Lisbon, pursuing their route through Portugal to 
 join their regiment, then campaigning in Estremadura with the 
 division of Sir Eowland Hill. 
 
 Everywhere the ravages of the ruthless Prench were visible as thev 
 marched onwards. At Santarem, Punhete, Abrantes, and maiiT 
 other places, they viewed with surprise and pity the pale features of 
 the starving inhabitants, the fire-blackened walls, the roofless streets 
 or utterly-deserted villages, from which everything had been carried 
 ofl" or given to destruction by the Prench in their retreat. Ancient 
 churches and stately convents had been turned into stables, where 
 cavahy horses and baggage-mules chewed their wretched forage of' 
 chopped straw, and reposed on the lettered stones, beneath which 
 slept the proud cavahers and brave Hidalgos of oldLusitania. 
 
 When they looked on these scenes of desolation, and considered the 
 desecration of everything, whether sacred or profane, their hearts 
 grew sick within them, and they thought of the happy isle which they 
 had left behind, where such horrors are unknown — unknown to the 
 mercantile citizens, who grudge so much the miserable pittance 
 received by the poor soldier. 
 
 In their route through these places, they were welcomed by no 
 sign of merriment, no joy ml cheering, from thosewhom they had come 
 to free from the iron grasp of Buonaparte ; they were greeted with 
 no welcome save the sepulchral tolling of some cathedral or chapel 
 bell — the waving of white kerchiefs or veils from the grated lattice of 
 some convent which had escaped the ravagers, when their walls rung 
 to the sound of the drum and war-pipe — the muttered benison of 
 some old Padre, as he viewed with surprise the bare knees, the wUd 
 and martial garb, of the men of Albyn, and the gigantic proportions 
 of the officer who commanded them. Major Campbell was a hand- 
 some Highlander, of a most muscular make and Herculean form. 
 His dark hair was becoming grizzled, for he was nearly fifty years of 
 age, and his nut-brown cheek had been tanned by the sun and storm 
 in many a varied clime. Prom the strength of his arm and the 
 length of his sword (a real Andrea Perrara, with the maker's name 
 on the blade), he was a most uncomfortable antagonist at close 
 quarters, as many of the Prench and others had found to their cost ; but 
 Campbellnever drew his Andrea unless when he found himself pressed, 
 but made use of a short oak stick, furnished with a heavy knob at 
 the end, which he had cut in one of the wild forests of Argyleshire, 
 and always retained and carried with him, as a rehc and memorial 
 of his native mountains. 
 
 It was towards the end of a chilly day in the spring of 1S12, that 
 the major's detachment halted in the ancient city of Albuquerque, 
 where they spent their first night in Spain, This old frontier town 
 is situated in the slope of the Sierra de Montanches, a ridge of 
 mountains in Estremadura. By a miracle, or little short of it, it had 
 escaped better than other places the ravages of the Prench, who had 
 <£ft the roofs on all the houses, which were, however, gutted of every- 
 
58 THE EOMA^'CE OF WAB. 
 
 thins; of value. In general the outrages of Napoleon's trooj)s were 
 less flagrant in Spain than in Portugal, from a wish to conciljate the 
 former, and render them, as of old, friends and allies. Owing to the 
 eminence on which the city is situated, its streets are much cleaner 
 than those of Spanish towns generally, where the thoroughfares are 
 cleared of the mud and filth tiiat encumber them by the rain, which 
 in Albuqueraue, when it falls heavily, sweeps everything down the 
 causewayed slopes to the bed of the Guadiana, which flows past the 
 foot of the city. An ancient castle, as old probably as the days of 
 ^Roderick, " the last of the Goths," stands upon the summit of a rock 
 above the town ; and around its base are the streets, ill paved, dark, 
 and narrow, — well fitted for Spanish deeds of assassination and 
 robbery. By an order from the alcalde, the Highlanders were 
 billeted upon different houses, and Eonald Stuart and Major Camp- 
 bell were both quartered in the same mansion, the patron of which, 
 Senor Narvaez Cifuentes (as he styled himself), kept a shop for 
 retailing the country wine. Many goodly pigskins filled with it were 
 ranged upon the rickety shelves of his store, from the ruinous rafters 
 of which hung some thousands of tempting bunches of dried grapes, 
 and many of these fell kindly down at Campbell's feet when the ola 
 house shook with his heavy tread. 
 
 The patron, in appearance, was not quite what one should vnsb. a 
 host to be, especially in a strange country. His stature was low, his 
 face was so swarthy as to resemble that of a negro in darkness ; his 
 moustaches were thick, fierce, and black, mingling with the matted 
 hair of his huge bullet-head. He wore a long stiletto (openly) in 
 the yellow worsted sash which encircled his waist, and the haft of a 
 knife appeared within the breast of his doublet, or sort of vest with 
 sleeves, which was, like the rest of his attire, in a very dilapidated 
 condition ; and, altogether, the Senor Narvaez Cifuentes displayed 
 more of the bravo or bandit, than the saint in his appearance. 
 
 He was, nevertheless, a rattling jolly sort of fellow, especially for 
 a Spaniard ; he sung songs and staves without number to entertain 
 his guests, who scarcely comprehended a word of them ; and to show 
 his loyalty, emptied many a horn to the health of Ferdinand YII., 
 to the freedom of Spain, and to the eternal confusion of the French, 
 compelling, with rough and unceremonious hospitality, Stuart and 
 the major to do so hkewise, until they had well nigh each imbibed 
 the contents of a pigskin, — the common vessel for containing wine 
 in Spain, where neither bottles nor flasks are used, but the simple 
 invention of a pigskin, sewn up with the hair inside, which, when 
 fall, looks not unlike the bag of tLe Scottish piper, from its black, 
 bloated, and greasy appearance. 
 
 Almost reeling with the effects of their potations, they were shown 
 by the jjatron to their chamber, where their bedding consisted only 
 of a blanket and mattress. 
 
 " What the mischief is the meaning of this, Senor Patron, Mr. 
 Narvaez, or what is your title?" stammered the major, holding the 
 flickering candle over the miserable couch ; " 'tis all over blood. 
 "What does it mean ? We soldados are not so fond of slaughter as to 
 relish a bed of this sort." This strange exclamation recalled Eonald's 
 wandering senses, and on surveying their humble pallet, he beheld it 
 stained with blood, which, though hard and dry, appeared to have 
 been recently shed, and in no small quantity. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 29- 
 
 " Campbell, here has been some foiftl work," said he, instinctively 
 laying his hand on his basket-hilt. " Make the fellow explain." 
 
 " Holloa, Mr. Cifuentes ; tell us all about it, or I'll beat the pipe- 
 clay out of your tattered doublet, and that without parley," vocife- 
 rated the inebriated major, flourishing his short cudgel over the head 
 of their host. 
 
 " Dios mio, senors ! Ha ! ha ! what a noise you make about a few 
 red spots ; 'tis f^rench Malaga," replied the other, laughing heartily, 
 as if something tickled his lancy exceedingly. " But I will tell you 
 the tale as it happened, as you appear so anxious about it. The last 
 time the French were in Albuquerque, I had four of their officers 
 billeted upon me by our dog of an alcalde. They were merry and 
 handsome young sparks of the chasseurs, and I phed them well with 
 the contents of half-a-dozen pigskins, until they could scarcely stand, 
 and then led them here for their repose ; and they all four slept 
 upon this very pallet. In the night-time I and two other comrades, 
 guerillas of Don Salvador de Zagala's band, stole softly in upon them, 
 and plunged our stilettos into their hearts ; they died easily, being 
 overcome with \vine and the fatigue of a long march, and our strokes 
 were deadly and sure. Carrying off all their chattels, we hid for 
 some days in the forest of Albuquerque until the enemy had retired, 
 when I returned, and was surprised to find my caza but little the 
 worse. The carrion, which we had tossed into the street in our 
 flight, had been carried away, and buried by Dombrouski's corps 
 with military honours. 
 
 " So now, senors, you see I am a true patriot, — a loyal Spaniard, 
 and that yoa have nothing to suspect me for. All Albuquerque 
 knows the story of the four chasseurs, and praise me for the deed. I 
 will turn up the mattress to hide the marks, and you will repose in 
 all comfort upon it." As all this was related in Spanish, but little of 
 it w'as understood by Ronald, who, however, comprehended enough 
 to make him regard with detestation and horror the man who cooUy 
 confessed that he had slain four helpless fellow-beings in cold blood, 
 and exulted in the narration of the deed with the feeling of one wha 
 had acted a most meritorious part. The satisfaction of the patriotic 
 patron seemed considerably damped by the expression which he saw 
 depicted in the features of his hearers. 
 
 " I do not believe you : this cannot be true," said they, at one and 
 the same time. 
 
 '■' Madre de Bios ! I call the mother of God to witness that it is. 
 Why, senor, the men were only Frenchmen, and you would have 
 taken their lives yourselves." 
 
 " In the open field, when equally armed ; but we should not have 
 stolen upon them in the night, and butchered them in their sleep, as 
 you say you did. And you shall die for it, you base Spanish dog !" 
 cried K-onald furiously, as he unsheathed his sword. 
 
 "Hold, Stuart, my lad!" cried the major, who was perfectly 
 sobered by this time ; " it is beneath a soldier and gentleman to 
 draw on so vile a scoundrel as this : I will deal with him otherwise. 
 Look ye, Senor Narvaez," said Campbell, turning to the Spaniard, 
 who had started back at the sight of Ronald's glittering blade, and 
 eyed them both with a savage scowl, while his hand grasped the hilt 
 of his poniard, " you had better betake yourself again to your friends 
 in the forest of Albuquerque, and get clear of the city by morning, or 
 
no THE EOMANCB OF WAE. 
 
 I may have interest enough with the corregidor or alcalde to have 
 you hanged like a scarecrow by the neck. So retire now, i'elloWj at 
 once, and leave us." 
 
 '^JDemonios J" cried he, grinding his teeth; "am I not master of 
 
 my own house ? Carajo, senor " The rest was cut short by the 
 
 summary mode of ejectment put in force by the major. Seizing him 
 by the throat, he dragged him to the door, and in spite of all his 
 struggles, — for the Spaniard, though a stout ruffian, was not a match 
 for the gigantic Highlander, — hurled him to the lower landing-place 
 of the old wooden stair, and tossing the mattress after him, shut and 
 bolted the door. 
 
 " I can scarcely beheve the tale to be true which this fellow has 
 told us," observed Ex)nald, as they composed themselves to rest 
 upon the hard boards, -with no other covering than their gay regi- 
 mentals. 
 
 "I entertain no doubt of its truth. He called to witness one, 
 whom a Spaniard names only on most solemn occasions. But we 
 must seek some sleep : 'tis two in the morning by my watch, and we 
 march in three hours. The boards are confoundedly hard, and I am 
 too sleepy to prick for a soft place. Diavolo ! what a titne we have 
 wasted with that tattered vagabond ! But good night, Stuart : we 
 will talk this matter over on the march to-morrow." 
 
 Campbell stretched his bulky form on the boards, with his cudgel 
 and long claymore beside him, and turning his face to the wall was 
 soon in a deep slumber, as a certain noise proceeding from his nostrils 
 indicated. But it was not so with the younger soldier, who courted 
 in vain the influence of the drowsy god whose power had over- 
 whelmed the senses of his comrade. 
 
 The fumes of the unusual quantity of wine which he had taken 
 were mounting into Eonald's headj and he lay watching the pale 
 light of the stars through the latticed windows. Frightful faces, 
 which he traced in the stains on the discoloured wall, seemed to peer 
 through the gloom upon him, and every rumbhng sound that echoed 
 through the old mansion caused him to start, gripe his sword, and 
 look about, — for the vivid idea of the poor chasseurs, who had been 
 assassinated in that very chamber, haunted him continually, causing 
 liim to shudder. When he thought, also, that he had spent the 
 night in carousal with a murderous bravo, he resolved to be more 
 circumspect in what company he would trust his person, in future, 
 while in Spain. 
 
 From a sleep into which he had sunk, he was soon awakened by the 
 warning pipe for the march, which passed close beneath the v/indow, 
 and then grew fainter in sound as Macdonuil-dhu strode on, arousing 
 his comrades from their billets, and the wild notes died away in the 
 dark and narrow streets of the city. The major sprang up at the 
 well-known sound ; and Eonald, although wearied and unrefreshed, 
 prepared to follow him. 
 
 " Confound this fashion of Lord Wellington's ! this marching 
 always an hour before daybreak," muttered Campbell. " The morn- 
 ing is sa chilly and cold, that my very teeth chatter, and the 
 
 de\T.l ! my canteen is empty," he added, shaking the little wooden 
 barrel which went by that name, and one of which every officer and 
 soldier on service carried slung in a shoulder-belt. " If you have 
 nought in yours, Stuart, we must leave the house of the honourable 
 Senor iJarvaez Cifuentes without our doeh-an-dhori^i as we say at 
 
THE BOMAIfCE OP WAE. 31 
 
 home in poor old Scotland, where men may sleep quietly at night, 
 without fear of getting a dirk put into their wame. Shake your 
 canteen, my boy ! Is there a shot in the locker ?" 
 
 Luckily for the thirsty commander, Ronald's last day's allowance 
 of ration rum was untouched, and they now quaffed it between them 
 to the regimental toast, — " Here's to the Highlandmen, shoulder to 
 shoulder !" a sentiment well known among the Scottish mountaineers 
 as a true military toast. 
 
 They now proceeded do\vn stairs, where they found their patron 
 seated in his wine-store, surrounded by the well-filled skins ; he sat 
 beside a rickety old table, on which he leaned with the clumsy and 
 careless air that so well became his appearance ; his chin rested on 
 Ms hand, and his tangled black hair fell over his face, but from be- 
 tween the locks he eyed them Avith a gaze of intense ferocity as they 
 entered. Campbell sternly shook his stick over his head, and tossing 
 towards him a few reals for their last night's entertainment, passed 
 with Ronald into the street, where the soldiers were under arms. 
 
 On leaving behind the tov/n of Albuquerque, the sound of distant 
 firing in front warned them of their nearer approach to the place of 
 their destination, and the scene of actual hostilities. As they ad- 
 vanced, the sharp but scattered reports of musketry, and now and 
 then the deeper boom of a field-piece, came floating towards them 
 on the breeze which swept along the level places ; but an eminence, 
 upon which the ancient castle of Zagala is situated, obstructed their 
 view of the hostile operations, and they pressed eagerly forward to 
 gain the height, full of excitement and glee. 
 
 " Welcome to Spain ! " cried an officer of the 13th Light Dragoons, 
 who came galloping up from the rear, and reined in his jaded charger 
 hy the side of the marching Highlanders for a few minutes. " There 
 is brave sport going on in front , press forward, my boys, and you 
 may be in at the death, as we used to say at home in old Kent." 
 
 " What is going on in advance ? " asked the major. " Are ours 
 engaged ? " 
 
 ' I have little doubt that they are : Cameron never lags behind, 
 you know. I was left in the rear at Albuquerque on duty, and am 
 now hurrying forward to join the 13th, who belong to Long's cavalry 
 brigade. They are now driving a party of plundering French out of 
 La Nava you will have a view of the whole affair when you gain the 
 top of the hill. But I must not delay here : adieu !" and dashing the 
 spurs into his horse, he disappeared behind the ruinous castle. 
 
 " Forward, men ! double quick. Let us gain the head of the brae," 
 cried Campbell, urging forward with, cudgel and spur a miserable 
 E-osinante, which he liad procured at Lisbon. 
 
 Carrying their muskets at the long trail, the Highlanders advanced 
 with that quick trot so habitual to the Scottish mountaineers, which 
 soon brought them beneath the grass-groAvn battlements and moul- 
 dering towers of Zagala, from the eminence of which they now had 
 an extensiye view to the southward. 
 
 The horizon extended to about six or eight leagues, and all within 
 that ample circle was waste and barren land, where the plough had 
 been unknown for an age, and v/here nought seemed to flourish but 
 weeds and little laurel-bushes. There was no trace of habitation 
 around the plain, but far off appeared the deserted village of La 
 Nava, near a leafless cork-wood, the bare boughs presenting but a 
 poor background to roofless walls and solitary rafters. There was 
 
42 THE BOMANCE OK WAR. 
 
 something chilling in so dreary a prospect, but most of the plains In 
 the same province present a similar aspect, because iu no part of 
 Spain is agriculture more neglected than in Estremadura, It wae 
 early in the spring of the year, and traces of vegetation were 
 becoming visible ; the wood near La Nava was, as I have said, bare 
 and leafless, but a few stunted shrubs by the way-side gave signs of 
 budding. The ruddy sun was setting in the west behind the lofty 
 Sierra de Montanches, the dark ridges of which rose behind the high 
 city and castled rock of Albuquerque : the sky in every direction 
 was of a clear cold blue, save around the sun, where large masses of 
 gold and purple clouds seemed resting on the curved outline of the 
 mountains, over which and through every opening the rays fell 
 aslant, and were reflected by the arms of the troops who occupied the 
 level plain, over which shone the long hne of its setting splendour. 
 From the height of Zagala they beheld the operations in front. 
 
 A party of five hundred French infantry were rapidly retreating 
 towards the cork-wood, exposed to the continual fire of two twelve- 
 pound field-pveces and the charges of the cavalry brigade under 
 General Long, who took every opportunity of breaking among the 
 little band through the gaps formed by the cannon-shot, which made 
 complete lanes through their compact mass. The French retired 
 with admirable coolness and bravery, keeping up a hot and rapid fire 
 from four sides on the cavalry, who often charged them at full speed, 
 brandishing their sabres, but were forced to recoil ; and no sooner 
 was a gap made in a face of a solid square by the fall of a file, than it 
 was instantly filled by another. And thus leaving behind them a 
 line of killed and wounded, they continued their retreat towards 
 Merida, where their main body lay, disputing every foot of ground 
 with desperate courage until they reached the cork-wood, which 
 being unfavourable for the movements of the cavalry, the latter were 
 obliged to retire with considerable loss. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Campbell, flourishing his stick ; " I have not 
 seen this sort of work for this year and more. You see, Stuart, that 
 a solid square of bold infantry may laugh at a charge of horse, Avho 
 must recoil from their bayonets like water from a rock. There are 
 the 9th and 13th Light Dragoons, and the fire of the French seerns 
 to have cooled their chivalry a little, and shown them that a sabre is 
 as nothing against brown Bess, with a bayonet on her muzzle. They 
 are retiring towards us, after doing, however, all that brave hearts 
 could do. Poor fellows ! many of them are lying rolling about 
 wounded and in agony, or already dead, near the skirts of that 
 confounded copse by which the frog-eaters have escaped. But where 
 are ours ? I do not see Howard's brigade." 
 
 "Yonder they are, major" rephed Eonald, "halted on the level 
 place behind the ruined village. I see the bonnets of the High- 
 landers, and the colours." 
 
 " Ay, I see them now. Yonder they are, sure enough ; and the 
 old Half-hundred, and the 71st, the light bobs, Avith the tartan trews 
 and hummel bonnets, all as spruce as ever, bivouacked comfortably 
 on the bare earth as of old. We shall have the pleasure of passing 
 the night without even a tent to keep the dew oft' us. Carajo ! as 
 the Spaniard says ; you will now taste the delights of soldiering in 
 good earnest, as I did first in Egypt with old Sir Ralph Abercrombie." 
 
 " We are seen by them. I hear the sound of the pipes, and they 
 are waving their bonnets in welcome," said Alister Macdonald. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 49 
 
 sent somewhere else by daybreak." On Catalina hearing the story, 
 she thanked, in broken Enghsh, but in a voice of thriUing earnest- 
 ness, the three wearied soldados, who had seated themselves on the 
 large old-fashioned chairs, the crimson leather and gilding of which 
 showed them to be the work of the previous century, 
 
 " You must excuse, senors," said Catalina, '"' the very poor fare I 
 have to present you with. The Ifrench laclrones carried off almost 
 everything with them this morning, and Merida ■will not soon forget 
 their visit." 
 
 " Our fare, thanks to the lazy commissariat department, has been 
 so hard of late, that almost anything will pass muster with us," re- 
 plied lionald ; " but here are dishes enough for a whole troop." 
 \Yhilo he spoke, the oak table was laid in a twinkling with ;x variety 
 of covers ; of which they could scarcely taste any, owing to the garlic 
 and olive-oil with which the Spaniards, as well as the Portuguese, 
 always season and cook up their victuals. 
 
 " You do not seem to relish the pigeon, senor mio," said Donna 
 Catalina to the major, who was making wry faces at every mouthful 
 he took. " Try the piece of cold roasted meat on the cover near 
 you." 
 
 " I thank you," answered Campbell, helping himself largely. '"' It 
 would be excellent to my taste, was it not for the olive-oil and spices, 
 not used in our country, with -which it is seasoned." 
 
 A hash and ragout were likewise attempted, but in vain ; the garlic 
 with which they Avere dressed rendered it impossible for the three 
 strangers to taste them, but it was equally impossible to be dis- 
 pleased : the polite apologies and regrets of the cavalier, and the con- 
 descending sweetness of his beautiful sister, made ample amends. 
 But the three hungry Scots were very well_ pleased to see the first 
 course replaced by the second, which consisted of Avhite Spanish 
 bread of the purest flour, dried grapes, and several large crystal jugs 
 of the purple country wine, sherry, and Malaga. 
 
 "You British are rather more fastidious than our Portuguese 
 friends and allies," said Alvaro, laughing. " The last time the 6th 
 Cacadores lay quartered here, they left not a single cat uneaten, — a 
 loss still remembered Avith peculiar animositj^ by the housewives of 
 j\Ierida. The Portuguese are not over nice in anything, certainly, 
 and we have a proverb among us, ' that a bad Spaniard makes a good 
 Portuguese.' " 
 
 " Sir, when I am sharp-set, I am not \Qry apt to be particular 
 myself," rephed Campbell. '" When I was in Egypt with Sir Ralph, 
 on one occasion I ate a very juicy steak cut from a horse's flank, and 
 fried in a camp-kettle lid. We were starving for want of rations, 
 senor ; and, I dare say, even the holy camel on its way to Mecca, had 
 it passed our route, would have been gobbled up, hump and all." 
 
 lionald, who had hitherto sat almost silent, began to di'ead a long 
 Eg>T)tian story from the major ; but this fear was removed by Don 
 Alvaro's filling up his horn, and drinking to the health of Lord AVel- 
 lington and the British forces, the dehverers of Spain and Ferdinand 
 the Seventh. 
 
 After this comphmentary toast had been duly honoured, " A bum- 
 per, gentlemen !" exclaimed the major, " fill up your glasses— regular 
 brimmers, and tliey must be drunk off with true Highland honours. 
 A la liber/ ad de Espana ! hurrah!" and, springing up erect with 
 native agility, the three Scots, i^lacuur their left feet on their seats and 
 
60 THE KOJIANCE OF WAH. 
 
 their right ou the table (a movement which considerably surprised 
 the grave don and his sister, who trembled for their crimson chairs), 
 they flourished their glasses aloft, and drank to the toast with what 
 are called Highland honours. 
 
 " llva ! viva .'" cried the cavalier, in applause of the sentiment, 
 though rather puzzled at the mode of proclaiming it. 
 
 They drank to their fair hostess, and to all sorts of gallant and 
 martial toasts ; and, as the wine-horns were filled and emptied again 
 and again, they grew more merry, the national granty of the don 
 disappearing gradually as their conviviality increased. He laughed 
 and sung ^vitll the frankness of a soldier, and trolled forth more than 
 once the " Song of Five Hundred Horse," a Spanish military carol. 
 At Eonald's request, CataUna took her guitar from the back of her 
 chair where it hung, and, ■without requiring the entreaties necessary 
 to obtain the same favour from a British lady, the frank girl sung 
 ■\vith a coquettish air, which pecuharly became her, " My Mother 
 wants no Soldiers here," a song well knovvTi in Spain at the time our 
 troops vrere campaigning there. 
 
 '* She seems bent on making a conquest of you, Alister," whispered 
 Eonald. 
 
 '' Of yourself, rather," retorted the other, coldly. Indeed, j\Iac- 
 donald had said but little all night ; his mind Avas continually wan- 
 dering to the recent fray, and the remembrance that he had for the 
 lirst time slain a fellow-being, — a reflection which troubled him very 
 little, truly, a few weeks afterwards, when he had become used to 
 that sort of work. " Of yourself, rather, Stuart. Her eyes are ever 
 on you, and — " 
 
 " Hush ! she hears us," replied the other, hurriedly, his cheek 
 reddening, yet more ^vith mental shame than anger. " O, Alice 
 Lisle !" thought he, " this Spaniard, beautiful as she is, cannot surely 
 be teaching me to forget you so soon. Her eyes are blacker than 
 those of Alice, certainly, but they are less soft and feminine, — less 
 gentle in expression ; yet — " Here he was interrupted by the loud 
 and sonorous voice of Campbell, who, at the request of CataUna, was 
 commencing a song. 
 
 Eonald /.as rapidly becoming so confused with the effects of the 
 wine he had taken, that he knew not whether it was AUce Lisle or 
 lionna Catalina who sat beside him ; but having a vague idea that it 
 was some beautiful female, before the major's song was ended he was 
 making downright love, which the lady took in very good humour. 
 
 Campbell's song, the 
 
 " Piobraclit au Donuil-dhu," 
 
 although it roused the hearts of his countrymen by its martial and 
 forcible language, was listened to "^ith a grave and pleasant smile by 
 Don Alvaro, who, of course, comprehended not one word of the 
 ditty, which in his ears sounded as a most barbarous jargon, and 
 might have been a Moorish battle-song for aught that he knew to the 
 contrary. 
 
 The retiring of Donna Catalina did not put an end to the carousal ; 
 and, as they had to leave JMerida an hour before daybreak, they 
 betook themselves to rest (after every jug of wine had been discussed) 
 on the chairs, as it was useless to go to bed for an hour or two only. 
 The short time they passed in slumber flew quickly, and they were 
 soon roused by the din of the fijing-artillery guns, as they swept 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAl^ SI 
 
 over the causewayed streets, driven at a hard trot tow^ards the bridge 
 of Merida. 
 
 " Caramha ! Rouse, senors," cried Alvaro, who was the first to 
 awake. 
 
 " Car a jo ! Ay, there go the field-pieces : old Rowland 's in his 
 saddle already," muttered the major, scrambling up from the floor 
 on which he had rolled in the night-time, and placing his large bon- 
 net on the wrong way, permitting the long feathers to stream down 
 his back. " Eouse, gentlemen ! Up and be doing, sirs, or we shall 
 be missed from our posts. Old Mahoud take the rule for marching 
 before daybreak ! Sir llalph never made us do so in Egypt, and we 
 gained laurels there, gentlemen — I say we did. This infernal bonnet ! 
 'lis always falling off." 
 
 " I wish to Heaven I could sleep an hour longer !" said Eonald, 
 " I have scarcely had tlu^ee hours' sleep tliis week past." 
 
 " Our brigade never sleep, gentlemen," cried Campbell, who was 
 still a little inebriated, " never ! "We march all night, and fight all 
 day : we used to reverse the matter in Egypt. But what have we 
 here ? Peter Eorbes — or what is your name, what's the matter ? 
 Are Dombrouski's dragoons among ye ?" 
 
 " Ave Maria ! O Dios mio ! O Senor Don Alvaro ! " cried Sar- 
 gento Pedro Gomez, appearing at the entrance of the room "with a 
 lamp in his hand ; " we have had the devil among us last night." 
 
 " How so, fellow ? What has happened ? " 
 
 " The bravo has escaped — " 
 
 " How ! Diavolo, escaped ?" 
 
 " Ay, noble senor, and carried off the carbme of poor Diego de la 
 Zarza, whom we found lying Avithin the chamber with his throat cut 
 from ear to ear." 
 
 The cavaher ground his teeth with absolute fury, while his olive 
 cheek grew black with rising passion. 
 
 " Santos ! Santissimus .'" cried he ; " would to San Juan, and all 
 the calendar, I had hanged him last night ! My brave Diego,— but 
 he must have slept ; if so, he deserves his fate. Well, there is no 
 help for this matter ; we will give Narvaez Cifuentes a short prayer 
 and a long stab the next time we meet, and that without delay. But 
 we must be off; the cavalry advance-guard, and part of the artillery, 
 have already passed. Let the trompetero sound 'to horse;' and 
 hasten, Pedro, and get the troop into their saddles. Though we 
 belong to the division of Murillo, we will cross the bridge with you 
 lO-day, senors, and strike a blow for honour. Vive Espana y huena 
 Ssperanza ! 'Tis a better war-shout than the J'l,ve VEmpereur of 
 the followers of the perfidious Buonaparte." 
 
 " There are the drums of our brigade," said Eonald Stuart ; " and 
 should we be missed by Fasaifern, the excellency of Don Alvaro's 
 purple Malaga and sherry, or even the smiles of Donna Catahna 
 herself, would form but a poor excuse for lingering. Hark ! the 
 generale." 
 
 " You improve in the art of gallantry," observed Macdonald ; " you 
 could not have turned such fine speeches the morning we halted in. 
 the Black Horse-square, at Lisbon. But I regret that we must 
 march -uithout bidding adieu i^ our fair patrona." 
 
 " Forward, cavaliers ; Catalina mil excuse our departing without 
 bidding her farewell. Down the etair-case to the left, senors," cried 
 Alvaro. " Pedro Gomez, knave, light the wav !'* and they T^iossed 
 
 s 2 
 
52 TnE EOilAXCE OF WAR. 
 
 forward into the street, feeling the chill air of the morning blow 
 strangely on their faces, while their heads swam with the fumes of 
 the wine taken so lately. 
 
 " It will be long ere I forget the night we spent in Merida," said 
 Macdonald. 
 
 " And long ere I do so, truly," replied Stuart, casting his eyes 
 vacantly over the dark windows of the mansion of Villa Pranca. 
 
 " Ah!— Donna Catalina ; are you looking for her ?" 
 
 " Such strange scenes of fray and other matters ! Had such a row- 
 occurred at home, all Britain would have rung with it, from Dover 
 to Gape AVi-atli ; but here it is as nothing." 
 
 "Hark ! Avhat is that, Stuart ? " 
 
 "A cry — by Heaven, a most appalling one !" A loud shriek arose 
 from amid the darkness in wliicli the Plaza was involved. They 
 hastened to that part of the square from whence it appeared to issue, 
 and found that the conflict in which they had Ijorne so cons])icuous 
 a part was not tlie only outrage committed that night in Merida. 
 They discovered a yoiing Portuguese lad, the private servant of 
 Lieutenant-colonel 3Iacdonald, of the Gordon Highlander-, lying 
 dead under the piazzas, stabbed to the heart with a long stiletto or 
 knife, and the assassin was never discovered. 
 
 Por some hours the dark streets of the city rang to the measured 
 tramp of marching soldiers, the clatter of accoutrements, the clang 
 of hoofs, and the rumble of heavy wheels, as artillery, cavalry, and 
 infantry, moved rapidly forward ; but by sunrise the Avhole division 
 had crossed the i^ridge, and on the opposite side of the river pursued 
 their route towards Almendralejo. 
 
 " Colonel Cameron !" cried old "Wemyss, the brigade-major, can- 
 tering up to the head of the column, "]Major-general Howard reciuests 
 that you mil increase your front. It is Sir Rowland's order." 
 
 " Perm sub-divisions !" cried Passifern, in the loud and manly tone 
 of authority which so v,-eli became him. " Hear sections, left oblique 
 — double quick !" The order was obeyed along the whole column 
 by each regiment in succession. Their fine brass bands filled the air 
 with martial music, causing every heart to vibrate to the sharp sound 
 of the soul-stirring trumpet, the cymbals, and trombone. The 
 horses shook their manes. — their riders sat more erect ; the waving^ 
 colours were flung for^vard on the breeze above the steel ridges of 
 glittering bayonets, and the brave hearts of those who marched 
 beneath them grew light and animated at the prospect of a brush 
 with the enemy. Their starving condition, then* faded uniform, the 
 discomfort of the last night's bivouac, were forgotten, — all was 
 mihtarj", gay, and exciting to the utmost, filhng every bosom with 
 the pride of the profession and the fervent " glow of chivalry." Sir 
 Uowland Hill, a\ ith his staff", viewed from a little eminence the 
 whole length of the column of that division of the army under lii.^ 
 command, as they passed, and a pleasing smile animated the 
 benevolent features of the blufl" old general, when he beheld the 
 wllingness with wiiich the footsore and almost shoeless soldiers 
 pressed forward, although they had endured all that could render 
 troops, less persevering and disciplined, less hardy and less brave, 
 mutinous. 
 
 Toilsome forced marches— shelterless bivouacs, starvation, receiv- 
 ing no provisions sometimes for three consecutive days, — no clothing. 
 and almost ever in arrears of pay — on one occasion for six months,— 
 
Till: hOAtAXCE OF WAK. 53 
 
 notiiing but the hope of ii change, and the redoubtable spirit Avhich 
 animated them, conld have supiported the British soldiers under the 
 accumulation of miseries suflered by them in the Peninsula, — 
 miseries which were lessened to the French troops, by their living at 
 free quarters wherever they went. 
 
 Eouald looked back to the flat-roofed mansions and Roman ruins 
 of Merida, on the grey walls of Avhich, casting bold shadows, streamed 
 the lull splendour of the morning sun. The cavalry rear-guard were 
 slowly crossing the ancient bridge, and with the red coats came the 
 brown uniform of Spain : it was the troop of Don Alvaro advancing, 
 with their polished helmets and tall lances flashing in the sum and 
 linding a sparkling reflection in the deep blue current of the 
 Guadiana below. 
 
 Ronald carried for the first time the regimental colour, which bore 
 evident marks of service, being pierced in many places by musket- 
 shot. It was a laborious affair to sustain, especially during a breeze, 
 being large, and of rich yellow silk, fringed round with bullion. The 
 sphinx, — the badge of Egypt (the pride of the major's heart), 
 surrounded by a Avreath of the brave old thistle, and the honourable 
 mottoes " JSgmo)it-op-Zee" " Mando)'a" and " £ergeii-op-Zoom,'' 
 all sewn, as usual, by fair hands, and done in massive gold embroidery, 
 — appeared in the centre of the standard, which the Duchess of 
 Gordon had presented to the clan regiment of her son. 
 
 " Stuart, I see you are casting longing looks back to Merida," said 
 Alister in his usual jesting manner, as he marched by Ronald's side 
 with the gaudy king's colour sloped on his shoulder. " There is 
 some attraction in our rear, I perceive ; you are ever looking that 
 way." 
 
 "Ay, yonder comes Don Alvaro and his troop of lances; how 
 gallant they appear ! But they are almost hidden in the dust raised 
 hj the rear of the column." 
 
 "Look above the colours of the 71st, and you will see the roof 
 which contains the fair Catalina ; it was for that you were searching 
 so narrowly. I can read your thoughts, you see, without being a 
 conjurer. Stuart, my boy, you are very green in these matters, 
 otherwise you would not blush as scarlet as your coat, which, by the 
 bye, is rapidly becoming purple." 
 
 " What stuff you talk, ^lacdonald ! What is Catalina to me ? " 
 
 " Pshaw ! now you need not bristle up so fiercely. Were you not 
 making do^vnright love to her last night ? And the Don himsei^ 
 would have seen it, but had drunk too much Malaga," 
 
 " Impossible, Alister ! You must dream, or this is some of your 
 usual nonsense. I have no recollection of speaking to Donna 
 C'atalinoi otherwise than I v»'ould have done to any lady — and Camp- 
 bell heard me." 
 
 " The major had over much sherry under his belt, and made too 
 much noise about Egyptv— the pyramids, — Pompey's pillar, — the 
 bp.ttle of Alexandria, and Heaven knows all what, to hear any one 
 speaking but himself. 'We spent the night in glorious style, how- 
 ever ; but the taste of that horrible garhc — Heavens above ! what 
 is this?" 
 
 Alister's sudden exclamation was not given without sufficient 
 reason. 
 
 A carbine flashed from among the dark evergreens which overhung 
 Jae road, and Ronald Stuart, staggering backwards, fell prostra^ 
 
54 THE BUMiKCE OP WAB. 
 
 and bleeding at the feet of his comrades, from whom burst a wild 
 shout of rage and surprise ; but the strictness of British discipline 
 prevented any man from moving in search of the asf assin. 
 " Hell's fury !" cried Colonel Cameron, spurring his horse to the 
 
 Sot, while his eyes shot fire. " Search the bushes ; forward, men ! 
 not fire, in case of alarming the rear of the column • but fix 
 bayonets,— slay, hew, and cut to pieces whoever you find." 
 
 With mingled curses and shouts, a hundred Highlanders dashed 
 through the thicket ; but their heavy knapsacks and the tall plumes 
 of their bonnets impeded their movements in piercing the twisted 
 and tangled branches of the thickly-leaved laurels. They searched 
 the grove through and through, beating the bushes in every direc- 
 tion ; but no trace of the assassin was found, save a broad-brimmed 
 sombrero bearing the figure of the Virgin stamped in pewter, 
 fastened to the band encircling it, which Alister Macdonald found 
 near a gigantic laurel-bush, in the midst of the umbrageous branches 
 of which its owner lurked unseen. 
 
 "It is the hat of Cifuentes,— the vagabond of our last night's 
 adventure," said Alister, hewing a passage through the bushes with 
 his sword, and regaining the regiment. 
 
 " I would you had brought his head rather. that it was within 
 the reach of my trusty stick ! I would scorn to -^vet Andrea -with his 
 base blood." A frown of rage contracted the broad brow of 
 Campbell while he spoke, holding in one hand a steel Highland pistol, 
 which he had drawn from his holsters for the purpose of executing 
 dire vengeance had opportunity offered. 
 
 "By all the powers above!" cried Ahster, vrith fierce and stern 
 energy, " if ever this accursed Spaniard crosses my path, I will make 
 his head fly from his shoulders as I would a thistle from its stalk ! 
 nor shall all the corregidors and alcaldes in Spain prevent me. But 
 how is Stuart ? Poor fellow ! he looks very pale. Has he lost much 
 blood?" 
 
 Ronald, supported on the arm of Evan Iverach, stood erect within 
 a circle formed by the officers who crowded round, while one of the 
 regimental surgeons examined his left arm, which had been wounded 
 by the shot. 
 
 " O gude sake ! be gentle wi' him, doctor !" said honest Evan in 
 great anguish, as he observed Eonald to wince under the hands of 
 the medical officer ; *' be as gentle wi' him as possible. You doctor 
 fo'k are unco rough ever and aye : dinna forget that he is your 
 namesake, and kinsman forbye, though ye canna find out the exact 
 degree." 
 
 "I hope, Doctor Stuart, the wound is not a very bad one?" said 
 Cameron, dismounting from his horse and approaching the circle. 
 " I augur ill from the expression of concern which your countenance 
 wears." 
 
 " The shot has passed completely tlirough, colonel, breaking the 
 bone in its passage ; but as the fracture is not compound, it will soon 
 join after setting. I hope that none of the red coat, or any other 
 foreign body, is lodged in the wound." 
 
 " Oh, if it should be a poisoned ball ! " groaned poor Evan in great 
 misery at the idea, while Doctor Stuart removed the sleeve of the 
 coat, and Eonald endeavoured to conceal the miniature of Alice 
 Lisle, which was nearly revealed by the disarrangeii^nt of his 
 uniform. " Oh, if it should be a poisoned b ill ! " he repeated. 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 55 
 
 " Some of our very best chielcls have been slain wi' them before 
 now,— especially at the battle of Arroya-del-Molino," observed his 
 comrade Angus IMackie, with a solemn shake of his head. 
 
 " Oh, that I had only been at his side ! It micht have hit me in 
 his stead ! " 
 
 " Silence, men ! You chatter nonsense," said Cameron sternly. 
 " And what think you now, doctor ?" 
 
 " That as Mr. Stuart is young, and of a full habit, I must bleed him 
 immediately." 
 
 " Stuff ! My good fellow, he has lost blood enough already." 
 
 " J am the best judge of that, Colonel Cameron," replied Esculapius 
 haughtily ; " delay is fraught with danger. Holloa, there ! where's 
 the hospital attendant ? Serjeant Maconush, undo the service-case 
 and bring me the pasteboard splints, the twelve-tailed bandage, and 
 other et cater as : I will set the bone." 
 
 " It is impossible. Doctor Stuart," interposed Cameron. " Your 
 intentions are all very good; but your clansman must return to 
 Merida, where I sincerely hope he Avill be properly attended to. We 
 have no time to await your operations just now, for which I am truly 
 sorry, as Ensign Stuart will be well aware." 
 
 " jDo not mind me, colonel," replied Eonald, whose teeth were 
 clenched with the agony he endured. " I will return as you say, and 
 shall doubtless find a medical attendant. I hear the rear regiments 
 are clamorous at this stoppage in their front, and yonder is Sir 
 Rowland himself, advancing to discover the cause." He spoke with 
 diflQculty, and at intervals ; the new and painful sensation of a broken 
 limb, together mth rage swelling his heart at the manner in which 
 he had received it, made his utterance low and indistinct. Among 
 the gi'oup around him he recognized Don Alvaro, who had galloped 
 from the rear to discover the meaning of the confusion, 
 
 " Senor Coronel" said he to Cameron, raising his hand to the peak 
 of his helmet, " let him be taken to my house in Merida, where he 
 will be properly attended to. Pedro Gomez," — turning to his orderly 
 Serjeant, — ^'dismount. Give this cavalier your horse, and attend 
 him yourself to my residence in the Calle de Guadiana, and desire 
 Donna Catalina to have his wound looked after. You will remain 
 with him until it is healed." 
 
 Pedro sprung lightly from his saddle, into which Eonald was with 
 some difficulty installed. 
 
 " I thank you, senor," said Cameron, touching his bonnet, " and 
 am glad this disagreeable matter is so satisfactorily arranged ; the 
 alcalde might have ordered him but an indifferent billet. Good bye, 
 my dear felloAv, Stuart : I trust we shall see you soon again, and with 
 a whole skin. Mr. Grant, take the colours. Gentlemen, fall in ; 
 get into your places^ men — into your ranks. Forward ! " He 
 delivered his orders with firm rapidity, and being a strict martinet, 
 who was not to be trifled with, they were instantly obeyed, and the 
 commotion was hushed. The troops were too much accustomed to 
 wounds and slaughter to care about the hurt received by Eonald ; 
 but it was the sudden and concealed shot which had raised their 
 surprise and indignation. 
 
 Evan Iverach alone delayed executing the orders of Cameron, and 
 entreated that he might be permitted to attend his wounded master 
 to the rear. 
 
 •* My good fellow, it cannot be," replied the colonel, pleased witb 
 
56 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 the genuine concern manifested by Ronald's lionest follower : " the 
 enemj" are before us, and I cannot spare a man. Nay, now, you need 
 not entreat ; fall into your place ut once, sir." 
 " Oh ! if you please, sir, dinna speak sae sternly. Did ye but ken — " 
 "Into vour place this instant, sir ! or I will have you stripped of 
 your accoutrements, and sent prisoner to the quarter-i^uard," ex- 
 claimed Cameron, sternly, his eyes beginning to sparkle. To say 
 more was useless, and .shouldering his musket with a heavy heart, 
 Evan took his place in the ranks, and moved forward with the rest ; 
 but he cast many an anxious look to the rear, Avatching the retiring 
 figure of Ronald as he sat on the troop-horse, which was led by Pedro 
 iGromez towai-ds the bridge of Merida. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FLIRTATION. 
 
 Ronald experienced most intense pain, together with a cold, 
 benumbed feeling in the fractured limb ; but it was as nothing in 
 comparison to the mental torture which he endured, or the indignant 
 and fierce thoughts that animated his heart. He entertained a" deep 
 and concentrated hatred of the "UTetch who, aiming thus] maliciously 
 and savagely at his life, had in so daring a manner inflicted a Avound 
 by which he might ultimately lose his arm, and which, for the pre- 
 sent, disabled him from accompanying liis comrades, Avho Avere rapidly 
 following up the retreating foe, and eager to engage. 
 
 As his regiment belonged to the first brigade of the division, it con- 
 sequently marched in front, or near the head of the column, and in 
 his return to Merida he had to pass nearly 16,000 men ; and the 
 bitterness of his feehngs w^as increased at the idea that every man 
 there Avould probably share the honour of an engagement, of AAhich 
 his mutilated state forbade him to be a participator. Solemn and 
 deep were the inAvard vows he took, to seek dire vengeance for this 
 morning's work on Narvaez Cifuentes, if ever he again confronted 
 him ; and his only fear Avas, that he might never meet with him 
 more. 
 
 From the bridge of Merida he cast a farewell look after his com- 
 rades, but nought could he see, save a long and dense cloud of dust, 
 through Avhich the glitter of polished steel and the Avaving fold of a 
 standard appeared at times, as the extended length of the mai'ching 
 column wound its Avay up the gentle eminence, above which appeared 
 vhe top of the spire of Almendi'alejo, several leagues distant. 
 
 By redro Gomez he Avas conducted to the stately mansion of Don 
 Ah'aro, and dehvered over to the tender care of Donna Catalina, 
 Avhose softest sympathies Avere aAvakened Avhen the young officer Avas 
 brought back to her scarcely able to speak, and liLs gay uniform 
 covered Avith blood. — for he had lost a great quantitv, oAving to the 
 hasty manner in which his namesake, the surgeon, had bound up the 
 Avound. Add to this, that he Avas a handsome youth, — a soldier who 
 had come to fight for Spain, and had but yesternight rescued her 
 brother from death ; the young lady's interest, gratitude, and pity 
 were all enlisted in his favour. Her large dark eyes sparkled AA"ith 
 Jiiingled sorrow and pleasure v.'hen she beheld him, — sorrow at the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. o7 
 
 pain he sufiered, and pleasure at the happiness of being his nurse 
 and enjoying his society in a mansion of which she was absohite 
 mistress, and where there was no old maiden aunt or duenna to be a 
 spy upon her, or overruler of her movements ; and as for the scandal 
 of Merida, or quizzing of her female companions, she was resolved 
 not to care a straw, — she was above the reach of either. Her uncle, 
 the Prior of San J uan, resided in the mansion, but the worthy old 
 padre was so enlarged in circumference by case and good living, and 
 so crippled by the gout, that he never moved further than from his 
 bed to the well-bolstered chair in Avhich he sat all day, and from tlie 
 chair back to bed again, and no one ever entered his room save old 
 I)anie Agnes (alreacly mentioned), who alone seemed to possess the 
 power of pleasing him : consequently he was never seen by the other 
 inhabitants of the house, any more than if he did not exist. 
 
 We "will pass over the account of the bone-setting by the Padre 
 Mendizabal, the famous medical practitioner in Merida, who nearly 
 drove Konald mad by an oration on different sorts of fractures, simple 
 and compound, and the different treatment requisite for the cure of 
 various gun-shot wounds, before his arm was sphnted and bandaged 
 up. Weak and exhausted from the loss of blood, and his head 
 buzzing with Mendizabal's discourse, right glad was Ronald when he 
 found himself in a comfortable and splendid couch, — Catalina's own, 
 Avhich she had resigned for his use as the best in the house, — with its 
 curtains dra^Mi round for the night ; and he forgot, in a dreamy and 
 uneasy slumber, the exciting passages of the last fevr days, the danger 
 of his wound, and the sunny eyes of the donna. 
 
 The tolling bells of a neighbouring steeple awakened him early 
 next morning, and brought his mind back to the world, and a long 
 chain of disagreeable thoughts. 
 
 There is scarcely anything which makes one feel so much from 
 home as the sound of a strange church bell ; and the deep and hollow 
 ding-dong which rung from the Gothic steeple of San Juan "was very 
 different from the merry rattle of the w^ell-known kirk bell at Loch- 
 isla. Ronald thought of that village bell, and the noble peasantry 
 whom it was wont to call to prayer, and the association ])rought a 
 -^ush of fond and sad recollections into his mind. He felt himself, as 
 it were, deserted in a strange country, — among a people of whose 
 language he knew almost nothing ; he looked round him, and his 
 apartment appeared strange and foreign, — every object it presented 
 was new and pecuhar to his eye. He thought of Scotland — of HOiiE, 
 —home with all its ten thousand dear and deeply-imiiressed associa- 
 tions, until he wept like a child, and his mind became a prey to the 
 most profound and intense dejection, — suffering froiuthe home-sick- 
 ness, an acuteness and agony of feeling which only those can know 
 who have been so unhappy as to experience this amiaJile feeling, — 
 one which exists ail-powerfully in the hearts of the Scots, Avho, 
 although great travellers and wanderers from home, ever turn their 
 thoughts, fondly and sadly, to the lofty mountains, the green forests, 
 and the rushing rivers which they first beheld when young, and to 
 the grassy sod that covers the dust of their warrior ancestors, and 
 which they wish to cover their own, when they follow them *" to the 
 land of the leal." 
 
 The feverish state of his body had communicated itself to his mind, 
 and for several days and nights, in the solitude of his chamber, ho 
 brooded ove- the memory of his native place, enduring the acuteness 
 
58 THE EOMANCE OF T7AE. 
 
 of tbo nostalgia in no small degree ; and even the fair Catahna, 'trith 
 her songs, her guitar, and her castanets, failed to enliven him, at least 
 for a time ; his whole pleasure — and a gloomy pleasure it was — being 
 to brood over the memory of his far-oC home. The dreams that 
 haunted the broken slumbers which the pai^u of his wound permitted 
 him to snatch, served but to increase the disorder ; and often, from a 
 pleasing vision of his paternal tower with its mountain loch and path- 
 less pine forests, of his white-haired sire as he last beheld him, or of 
 Alice Lisle smiling and beautiful, with her bright eyes and curling 
 tresses, twining her arms endearingly round him, and lading her soft 
 cheek to his, he Avas awakened by some confounded circumstance, 
 which again brought on him the painful and soul-absorbing lethargy 
 which weighed down every faculty, rendering him careless of every 
 present object, save the miniature of Alice. The paleness of his 
 complexion, and the intense sadness of his eye, puzzled his medical 
 attendant, Doctor Mendizabal ; but neither to him nor to Donna 
 Catalina, who used the most bewitching entreaties, would the forlorn 
 young soldier confess the cause of his dejection, — concealment of the 
 mental feelings from others being a concomitant of the disease. So 
 each formed their own opinions : iMendizabal concluded it to be 
 loss of blood: and the lady, after consulting her cousin and com- 
 panion, Inesella de Truxillo, supposed that he must unquestionably 
 be in love, — what else could render so handsome an officiale so 
 Tery sad ? 
 
 This conclusion gave him additional interest with her ; and certes, 
 Alice Lisle would little have admired the attendance upon Eonald's 
 sick couch of a rival, and one so dangerously beautiful ; but her fears 
 might have decreased, had she seen how incessantly, during the days 
 he was confined to his bed, he gazed upon the little miniature which 
 Louis Lisle had given as a parting gift. Conceahng it from the view 
 of others, he watched it with untiring eyes, until, in the fervency of 
 his fancy, the features seemed to become animated and expanded, — 
 the sparkling eyes to fill with light and tenderness, — the pale cheek 
 to flush, and the dark curls which fell around it to wave, — ^the coral 
 lips to smile ; while he almost imagined that he heard the soft mur- 
 murs of her voice minghng with the gurgle of the Isla, and the rustle 
 of the foliage on the banks, where they were wont to play and gambol 
 in infancy. 
 
 In a few days, however, his mental and bodily languor disappeared, 
 and when, by the surgeon's advice, he left his sick chamber, his usual 
 lightness of heart returned rapidly, and he was soon able to prome- 
 nade under the piazzas of the Plaza with Catalina during the fine 
 sunny evenings ; and although the miniature was not less adnured 
 than formerly, the fair original would have trembled could she have 
 \\itnessed all the nursing which Eonald received from his beautiful 
 patrona, and heard all the soft things which were uttered. 
 
 As his strength increased, theu' strolls were extended, and the 
 young ladies of Merida smiled at each other, and shook their heads 
 significantly, as the graceful donna^ attired in her veil and mantilla,, 
 swept through the great stradi, flirting her little fan, with the foreign. 
 officiale in the plumed bonnet and rich scarlet uniform. His fair 
 patrona showed him all the remains of Eoman magnificence in 
 Merida ; and Eonald, who, like most of his countrymen, was an en- 
 thusiastic admirer of the gloomy and antique, explored every cranny 
 and nook of the immense ruins of tkA once important castle, — sur- 
 
THS EOMANCE OF WAK. 59 
 
 reying with a sad feeling the pillared halls wliich once had rung to 
 the sound of the trumpet and the clashing harness of Spanish 
 chivalry, but where now the ivy hung do^vn from the roofless wall, 
 and the long grass grew between the squares of the tessellated pave- 
 ment. Time had reduced it to little more than a heap of shattered 
 stones, but it was as ancient, probably, as the days of the Goths, 
 during whose dominion a strong garrison lay at Merida. 
 
 The large amphitheatre, of which the citizens are so proud, formed 
 another attraction, and its circular galleries were the scene of many 
 an evening walk with Catalina and her cousin Inesella of Truxillo, a 
 very gay and very beautiful girl, with whom a great deal of laughing 
 and flirting ensued in clambering up the steep stone seats, and 
 rambling though its maze of arcades, arched passages, projecting 
 galleries, and the long dark dens opening on the arena. 
 
 The Eoman baths of Diana, a subterranean edifice of an oval form, 
 containing ranges of dressing-chambers, and a large stone bathing- 
 basin filled with pure water, formed another object of interest ; and 
 many were the pleasant strolls they enjoyed along the grassy bank? 
 of the Guadiana and by the summit of a high hill (the name oi 
 which I have forgotten), in the shade of the broad trelhs, where ths 
 vines were bursting into leaf, and in every green lane and embow- 
 ered walk about Merida, even to the hermitage of San Bartolomi, 
 where a white-bearded anchorite showed them the boiling-hot spring 
 of Alange. 
 
 During this intercourse, Eonald rapidly improved in his Spanish : 
 and who would not have done so under the tuition of such fair in- 
 structresses ? He found it 
 
 " — pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue 
 
 By female lips and eyes — that is, I mean, 
 When both the teacher and the taught are young. 
 
 As was the case, at least, where I have been ; 
 They smile so when one's right, and when one's wrong 
 
 They smile stUl more ; and then there intervene 
 Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss : — 
 I learn' d the little that I know by this. 
 
 More than one week had slipped away, and Eonald had nea^-ly 
 recovered from his wound, though still obliged to keep his arm slung 
 in a scarf. In the garden at the back of the mansion, he was seated 
 by Catalina's side one evening on the steps of a splendid fountain, 
 where four brazen deities spouted the crystal liquid from their capa- 
 cious throats into a broad basin of black marble, from which, by 
 some subterraneous passage, it was carried to the Guadiana. The 
 spring was now advanced, and the delightful climate of Spain was 
 fast arraying nature, and bringing her forth in all her glory. From 
 the fountain, broad gravelled walks, thickly edged with myrtle, 
 branched ofl" in every direction, and between them were beds where 
 the crimson geranium, the gigantic rose-bushes, the pale lilac blos- 
 som, and a thousand other garden flowers, which it would be useless 
 to mention, were budding in the heat of the vernal sun by day, and 
 in the soft moist dews by night. Around and above them the 
 graceful ^villow, the tufted acacia, the stately palm, the orange-tree 
 with its singularly beautiful leaves, and numerous other shrubs, 
 were spreading into foliage, which appeared to increase daily in rich- 
 ness of tint and variety; and beautiful vistas, -vvindiEg walk?, and 
 
60 THE EOMAKCE CF WAK. 
 
 umbrageous bowers, wcve formed among them with all the art and 
 nicety of Spanish landscape gardening. 
 
 The young Highlander and Catalina were seated on the margin of 
 the Ibuntain, as 1 have already said. They conversed but little. The 
 donna busied hcrsell" with the strings of her guitar, and Ilonald 
 watched in silence the nimble motions of her white liands as .she 
 tied and imtied, screwed and unscrewed the strings and pegs, and 
 struck the chords to asicertain the true tone. Strange and convicting 
 thoughts flitted through his mind while he gazed upon his beautiful 
 companion. He was aware how dangerous to his peace her presence 
 was, and he almost longed for, yet dreaded the coming time, Avheu 
 he should be obliged to return to his regiment. To Alice Lisle he 
 felt that he was bound by every tie that early intimacy, love, and 
 honour, could twine around him, — honour ! how could he think of 
 so cold a word ? and while he did so, he blushed that he could find 
 room in his heart for the image of another. 
 
 " Catalina is very beautiful— decidedly so," thought he, while he 
 ^iewe-'l the curve of her white neck, and the outline of her superb 
 bust. 5"".^©" face is one of sui*passing loveliness, and;JJ|i>^ye5 — ^iMtt 
 iUlcei3~ equally bewitchiag,-RltlK)ug hnip ea !lM^ Bw»-lfig>t*bt>tt^bftaa^y. 
 ■v,AliceisTery geatte-imd yiii^i.ttiBg;^.{!^)«S(iy-Jikgf'ga«^^''ige' have knajwa 
 ^^^ QibtotflJfih'**^ '^^ impossible I can forget fefc ' -Why, then, 
 have ITeim trifling with one whose presence is so aS,ngerous to my 
 peace ? Yes ! if I would preserve a Avhole heart and my allegiance 
 to Ahce, I must fly from you, Catalina." 
 
 AVhile he reasoned thus Avith himself, Catalina raised her dark 
 and laughing eyes to his, while she struck the chords of her instru- 
 ment, and sang a few w'ords of a very beautiful Spanish air. So 
 melodious was her tone, so graceful her manner, so winning the 
 expression of eye, who can wonder that Eonald's resolution melted 
 like snow in the sunshine, and that he felt himself vanquished ? 
 Poor Alice ! With an air of tenderness and embarrassment he took 
 the Uttle hand of the donna within his oAvn. She read in his eye 
 the thoughts which passed through his mind ; she cast down her long 
 jetty lashes, while a rich bloom suffused her soft cheek. Eonald was 
 about to murmur forth something — in fact, he kneAV not w^hat, when 
 a loud knocking at the outer gate of the mansion, and the sound of 
 a well-knoAvn voice aroused him. 
 
 " Unbar the yett — this instant ! ye auld doited gomeral ! I will 
 see my maister in spite o' ye," cried Evan impatiently, while Agnes 
 delayed unbarring the door to so boisterous a visitor. 
 
 " Caramba senor ! Qiiien es 1 " she repeated. 
 
 " Gude Avife, I speak uae languapje but my ain ; so ye needna waste 
 your AAind by speirin' questions that I canna answer." 
 
 At Ronald's desire, the old housekeeper undid the door, Avliich 
 wa.s Avell secured by many a bar and lock, and he immediately saAv 
 lihe w'aving plumes of Evan's bonnet dancing above the shrubbery, 
 as he came hastily toAvards the fountain, with his musket at the long 
 trail, and his uniform and accoutrements covered with the dust of a 
 long day's march. His joy was unbounded on seeing his master, and 
 rapid and quick Avere the earnest inquiries he made, Avithout waiting 
 for answers, conceniing his AA"ound, and how he had been treated " by 
 the unco folk he had been left to bide amang,-— begging the boimie 
 ledd/s pardon " 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. ' 61 
 
 Catalina bowed,— although she kuew not a word that he said ; but 
 by the natural politeness and expression of the soldier's look, she 
 knew that he referred to her. 
 
 " Now then, Evan, that I have aus^vered all your inquiries, be 
 pleased to stand steady, and moderate yourself so far as to reply to 
 mine,'' said llonald kindly, far from feeling annoyed at his appearance 
 at a juncture so peculiarly awkward and tender. " How come you 
 here just now ? and how alone ? " 
 
 "■ I got leave frae the colonel, after an unco dunning, to come hero 
 and attend you, for I thocht you would feel yoursel unco queer, left 
 alane among the black-avised folk, that canna speak a decent tongue. 
 But here, sh', is a letter and a newspaper, sent you by Maister 
 IMacdonald." Evan, after fumbling among the ration biscuits, shoe- 
 brushes, and other matters which crammed his havresack, produced 
 them. " Just as I cam awa' frae the place whar' the regiment lay, 
 in dreary strath— a place like Corrie-oich for a' the world — seventy 
 miles frae this, I heard that the order had come to retire to the 
 rear—" 
 
 "UponMerida?" 
 
 " I canna say, sir, Ijecause the very moment that Cameron gied 
 iHQ leave, and Maister Macdonald gied me his letter, I set oflf, and 
 have travelled nicht and day, without stopping, except may be just for 
 an hour, to sleep by the road-side or to get a mouthfu o^ meat, — trash 
 sic as aue wadna gie to puir auld Hector, the watch-dog at hame, at 
 auld Lochisla. it was a far and a weary gait ; but I was sae 
 anxious to see ye, sir, that I have trod it out in t"\va days, in heavy 
 marching order as ye see me, and I am like to dee wi' sheer fatigue." 
 
 " You are a faithful fellov\', Evan ; but I fear, by your love for me, 
 you may work mischief to yourself. Here comes Dame Agnes, — 
 to her care I must consign you. She was a kind attendant to me 
 when I much wanted one." 
 
 "God bless ye for that, gude wife !" cried Iverach, catching her 
 in his arms and kissing her ^vithered cheek ; a piece of gallantry 
 which she owed more to Evan's native drollery and his present state 
 of excitement, than any admiration of her person. 
 
 " I believe there is some gaucy kimmer at home, who would not 
 like this distribution of favour, Evan," said Eonald ; while Catalina 
 clapped her hands and laughed heartily at the old dame, who, 
 although very well pleased at the compliment, affected great indig- 
 nation, and arranged her velvet hood with a mighty air. 
 
 "It's just quiet friendship for the auld body, — naething else, sis . 
 Even puir w'ee Jessie Cavers wadna hae been angry, had she been 
 present and seen me." 
 
 " Cavers — Jessie Cavers ! I have heard that name before, surely ? " 
 
 " It's very like ye may, sir," replied the young Highlander, a flusli 
 crossing his cheek. " She is Miss Alice Lisle's maid, — a servant 
 lassie at the Inch-house." 
 
 ' O — a gh'l at Inchavon ? I thought the name was familiar to 
 me," faltered Eonald, reddening in turn. "But you had better 
 retire and tell the mihtary news to Pedi-o Gomez, whom I see waiting 
 you impatiently yonder." 
 
 Eeser\aug the newspaper for another time, Ronald, with the donna's 
 permission, opened Macdonald's letter. 
 
 " This billet is from the array," j^aid she, familiarly placing her arm 
 
C2 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 through the young officer's and drawing close to his side, while she 
 caused his heart to thrill at her touch. Ah ! tell me if there is any 
 news of my brother Alvaro in it ?" 
 
 " I ^nll read it aloud, translating those parts you do not under- 
 stand. It is dated from Villa Franca :" — 
 
 " Dear Stuart, 
 
 " Fassifern and the rest of ours are anxious to know how you are, 
 after that wound you received so villanously, and from which I hope 
 you are almost recovered by this time. Send us word by the first 
 messenger from Merida to the front. Eemember me particularly to 
 the fair Catalina, and I assure you that your quarters at present in 
 her splendid mansion are very different from mine here, — in a 
 ■wretched hut, where the rain comes in at the roof, and the ^vind at a 
 thousand crannies. You may congratulate us, my old comrade, on 
 the easy victories we obtain over Messieurs the French, who have 
 been driven from Almendralejo, and all the places adjacent, with 
 little loss on our part. I now ^^Tite you from a village, out of which 
 our brigade drove them a few days ago. How much you would have 
 admired the gallantry of our Spanish friend Don Alvaro, who 
 accompanied us in this affair. On our approaching the enemy, they 
 retired without firing a shot at first, and his troop of lancers, who 
 were halted on the road leading to Los Santos, charged them at 
 full gallop, shouting Viva Ferdinand ! JEspana ! Espana y huena 
 JEsperanza ! " 
 
 " Noble Alvaro ! my brave brother!" interrupted Catalina, her 
 eyes sparkhng -with delight. " I Avill always love this officiale toT 
 what he says. Oh ! that Inesella was here ! She is betrothed ti.. 
 Alvaro, senor, and would have been wedded long since, but for : 
 quarrel they had about Donna Ermina, the wife of old Salvador, the 
 guerilla chief." 
 
 '■' It was a noble sight," continued the letter, " to see the tall lancfe^ 
 levelled to the rest, the steel helmets flashing in the sun, and to heai- 
 the clang of the rapid hoofs, as the Spaniards rushed down the brae 
 and broke upon the enemy with the force of a whirlwind, a thunder- 
 bolt, or anything else you may suppose. Campbell protested it 
 equalled the charge of the Mamelukes, when 7ie ' "^as in Egypt vrith 
 Sir Ealph.' Alvaro has now gone off to join Murillo, where he 
 hopes to meet Don Salvador de Zagala, w^hom he vows to impale 
 ahve. He left me but an hour ago, and desires me in my letter to 
 send a kiss to his sister. This, I dare swears you will be most happy 
 to dehver." 
 
 Konald faltered, and turned his eye on Catalina, who blushed 
 deeply. It was impossible to resist the temptation: her face was 
 very close to his, and he pressed his lips upon her burning cheek. 
 
 " Bead on, se7ior mio" she said, disengaging herself with exquisite 
 grace ; " perhaps there may be more about Alvaro ? " 
 
 Ronald glanced his eye over the next paragraph, and passed it over 
 in silence and confusion. 
 
 "A httle flirtation ._e;i passant, jou know, will not injure your 
 allegiance to the fair ladye whose miniature — but you may burn my 
 letter without reading further, should I write much on that subject. 
 Angus Mackie, a private of your company, was the- other night en- 
 gaged in a regular brawl with the natives of Almendralejo, — some 
 love affair with the daughter of an old ahogado (lawyer). I refer 
 
THE EOMAJS'CE OF WAS. 63 
 
 you for tlie particulars to the bearer, Vrho was engaged in it. We had 
 another row at Almendralejo the day we entered it. Some Spaniard, 
 by way of insult, ran his dagger into the bag of Ranald Dhu's pipe; 
 and so great was the wrath of the ' Son of the Mist,' that he dirked 
 him on the spot ; and although the fellow is not dead, he is declared 
 by Doctor Stuart to be ' in a doubtful state.' 
 
 " I have sent you an Edinburgh paper (a month or two old), 
 wherein you will see by the Gazette that a Louis Lisle has been 
 appointed to us, vice poor Oliphant Cassilis, killed in the battle of 
 Arroya. There are people of the name in Perthshire ; perhaps you 
 may know something of this Lisle." 
 
 The blood rushed into Eonald's face, and a mixed feeling of plea- 
 sure and shame to meet the brother of Alice filled his mind. He 
 read on — 
 
 " I was just about to conclude this long letter, when some strange 
 news arrived. Ciudad Rodrigo has been invested, and it is supposed 
 must capitulate soon. Our division has been ordered by Lord Wel- 
 lington to retire into Portugal forthwith ; the ' gathering' is at this 
 moment ringing through the streets of Villa Pranca, and the corps is 
 getting under arms. — Adieu, &c. 
 
 " Alistee Macdonald." 
 
 . " P.S. — L. Lisle is at Lisbon, bringing up a detachment for ours, — 
 a hundred rank and file. I do not know what route we take for 
 Portugal ; but you had better endeavour to join us on the way." 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 ALICE LISLE. — NEWS FEOII HOME. 
 
 Within the chamber vrhich he occupied, Eonald sat late that 
 night, musing on what was to be done, and what course was now to 
 be steered. He saw that it was absolutely necessary that he should 
 proceed instantly to rejoin, — a measure which the healed state of his 
 wound rendered imperative. " The division \i retreating," thought 
 he, " and the Count JD'Erlon \vill without doubt push forward imme- 
 diately and regain possession of JMerida, and I must ine\itably be 
 taken prisoner. I will join Sir Rowland as he passes through ; the 
 troops must pass here en route for Portugal. How dangerous to my 
 own quiet is my acquaintance with Catalina, and how foolishly have 
 I been tampering with her affections and with my ovni heart ! Good 
 heavens ! I have acted very "wrong in awakening in her a sentiment 
 towards me, which my phghted troth to Alice and my 0"\vn natural 
 sense of honour forbid me to cherish or return. And Catalina loves 
 me ; her blushes, her downcast eyes, and her sweet confusion, have 
 betrayed it more than once. 'Tis very agreeable to feel one's self 
 beloved, and by so fair a girl, for Catalina is very beautiful ; but I 
 must fly from her, and breai those magic spells which are linking 
 our hearts together. To-morrow — no, the day after, I will leave 
 Merida, and join the division as soon as I hear by what route it is 
 retiring. 
 
 Louis Lisle, too, the brother of Alice, was now an officer in the 
 same corps, and his bold spirit would instantly lead him to seek ven- 
 
Gl THE BOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 peancc for any false or dishonourable part acted towards his sister. 
 
 Poor Louis ! he is the first friend I ever had ; and how will so deh- 
 cate a boy, one so tenderly nurtured, endure the many miseries of 
 campaigning here ? A single night such as that we spent in the 
 bivouac of La Nava would unquestionably be his death." 
 
 Here his cogitations were interrupted by the voice of Evan, who 
 v.as carousing in the room below \nth Gomez (having spent the night 
 together over their cups, although neither understood a word of the 
 other's language), singing loud and boisterously, — 
 
 " Keek into the draw-wcll, 
 
 My Jo Janet ; 
 And there ye'U see yer bomiie sell, 
 
 My Jo Janet:" 
 
 a performance which drew many vivas ! from his brother-soldier. 
 Roused from the reverie into Avhich he had fallen, Ronald's eye fell 
 on the newspaper sent him by ]\Iacdonald, and he now took it up, 
 thinking to find something in it to direct the current of his thoughts ; 
 and somewhat he found with a vengeance ! Better would it have 
 been if he had never thought of it at all. It was an Edinburgh 
 Journal, dated several weeks back, and appeared tc have passed 
 through the hands of the whole division, it ^vas so worn and frit- 
 tered. After scanning over the Gazette, to which he had turned 
 first " with true military instinct," his eye next fell upon one of those 
 pieces of trash styled " fashionable news." It was headed— 
 
 " Mareiage in High life.— ^Ve understand that the gallant 
 Earl of HjTidford is about to lead to the hymeneal altar the beautiful 
 
 and accomplished daughter of Sir Allan Lisle, Bart , M.P. for . 
 
 The happy event is to take place in a few weeks at Inchavon House 
 (Perthshire), the family seat of the venerable and much-respected 
 baronet." 
 
 The room swam around him, and the light faded for a moment from 
 his eye, while the hot blood gushed back tumultuously through the 
 pulses of his heart ; but chnching his teeth firmly, and mustering all 
 his scattered energies, he read it over once more, while mingled 
 sorrow and fury contracted and convulsed the muscles of his hand- 
 some features. There "was no doubting the purport of the torturing 
 intelligence, and Catalina was forgotten in the fierce excitement of 
 the moment. " O Ahce ! Alice ! " he said, bitterly and aloud, " could I 
 ever have expected this of you ? 'Tis but a few months since we 
 parted, and she is false already. I am, indeed, soon forgotten !" 
 
 He crushed the paper up, and thrusting it into the charcoal-pan 
 on the hearth, it v/as consumed in an instant. " Hyndford, — Carmi- 
 cliael, Earl of Hyndford! Ay; the ghtter of the coronet' has more 
 charms for her eye than a subaltern's epaulet ; but I would not be 
 my father's son, should I think more of her after tliis. I will learn 
 to forget her, asshe has forgotten me, — and this, too, shall perish !" 
 He took the miniature fi'om his neck, and was about to crush it 
 beneath his heel ; but when the well-knoAvn features met his eye, 
 his fierce resolution melted away ; he averted his head, and replaced 
 it in his bosom, while a sad and subdued feeling took possession of 
 nis heart, 
 
 " I cannot destroy," thought he, " what has l3een so long a solace, 
 and an object almost of ^vorship to me E^'enj'.ere she the bride of 
 another, as perhaps she is at tliis very hour,' i would yet wear and 
 
THE EOlLiNCE OF WAB. S3 
 
 " Blow up your bags, Macdonuil-dhu, and let them hear the bray 
 of the drones/' cried Campbell, whacking the sides of his nag to urge 
 her pnward. " Push forward, brave lads ! we will be with Passifern 
 and our comrades in a few minutes more." 
 
 Skirting the miserable village of La Nava, they soon arrived at the 
 ground over which the advanced picquet of the enemy had retired. 
 Two dead bodies attracted the eye of Ronald as he passed over them, 
 and being the first men he had ever seen slain, and in so revolting a 
 manner, they made an impression on his mind which was not easily 
 effacpl, T'hey were young and good-looking men, and the same 
 cannon-shot had mowed them both down. A complete hole was 
 made in the body of one, and his entrails were scattered about ; the 
 legs of the other were carried away, and lay a few yards off, with a 
 ball near them half buried in the turf. Their grenadier caps, each 
 adorned with a brass eagle and red plume, had fallen off, and the 
 frightful distortion of their hvid features, with the wild glare of their 
 white and glassy eyes, struck Ronald with a feeling of horror and 
 compassion, which it was long ere he could forget. 
 
 " Queer work this !" said the major, coolly looking at them over 
 his horse's flank, " and you don't seem to admire it much, Stuart ; 
 but you are a young soldier yet, and will get used to it by-and-by. 
 Nothing hardens either the heart or the hide so much as a campaign 
 or two. I learned that in Egj-pt." 
 
 " Puir callants ! what would their mothers think, were they to see 
 their bairns as they lie here noo ?" soliloquized Evan, looking after 
 them ruefully. 
 
 " It would be an awfu' sicht for them, or ony o' the peaceable folk 
 at hame," rephed another soldier. '* But what can these twa queer 
 chields wi' tlie muckle brimmed hats be wanting wi' them ? " 
 
 "The Spanish dogs! Would to Heaven I might be allowed to 
 shoot them dead," vociferated Campbell, making a motion with his 
 hand towards the bear-skin covering of his holsters. " The scoun- 
 drels ! they are come to rob and strip the dead." 
 
 Two Spanish peasants had approached the bodies, about which 
 they exercised their hands so busily, that they soon plundered them 
 of knapsacks, accoutrements, uniform, and everything, leaving the 
 mutilated bodies stripped to the skin and exposed on the plain, while 
 tliey made off towards La Nava ^vith their spoil. A few minutes' 
 more marching brought the major's detachment to the spot where 
 the brigade of General Howard was halted on a piece of waste moor- 
 land, where the three corps had piled their arms, and were making 
 such preparations for bivouacking for the night as could be made by 
 rnen who had neither tent to cover them, nor couch to repose on but 
 the bare and cold earth. 
 
 No tents at that time, or for long afterwards, Avere served out by 
 the British Government to our troops in Spain, and their privations 
 and misery were of course greatly increased by the want of proper 
 means of encamping. The men were lying about in all directions, 
 worn out and exhausted with the load they had carried and the fa- 
 tigue of a long march ; and the officers were reposing among them 
 without ceremony. Apart from them all, on the right of the line. 
 Colonel Cameron, of Passifern, stood holding his caparisoned horse 
 by the bridle, as was his usual custom, aloof alike from his officers 
 and soldiers. He was a proud and strict commander, who kept the 
 former " at the staff's end," as the military saying is, behaving to 
 
 I. r ' 
 
84 THE BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 them in a manner at once haughty^ cold, and distant ; and yet withal 
 he was a good officer, a brave soldier, and beloved by his regiment, 
 which would have stood by him to the last man. He was a well-made 
 figure, above the middle height ; his features were handsome, and 
 his hair was fair and curly. There was ever a proud and fiery sorb 
 of light in his dark blue eyes, which, when he was excited, were wont 
 to sparkle and flash with peculiar brilliancy — an expression which 
 never failed to produce its due effect upon beholders. To him the 
 major reported his arrival, and introduced the officers one hy one. 
 
 He^ed Ronald Stuart, of whom he had heard previ-- asly, with a 
 keen Highland glance, and asked some questions about his family 
 and his father. 
 
 " I have often heard of the Stuarts of Lochisla," said he, " but 
 have never had the pleasure of seeing one till now. Sir John Stuart, 
 of the Tower, saved the life and honour of my grandfather Lochiel, 
 at the risk of his own, on the bloody field of Culloden. I am happy 
 to have the descendant of so brave a man an officer of the Gordon 
 Highland-ers." 
 
 Ensign Macdonald, colonel," said the major, presenting Alister. 
 
 " Macdonald ? Ah !" said Cameron, bowing, " your family is not 
 unknown to me. I have had letters from Glengarry, and all the 
 jVIacdonalds of the Isles^ respecting you ;" and thus he went on, as 
 there was scarcely an officer introduced to him whose family was not 
 well known in the North. After some httle conversation, Eonald 
 withdrew to where the officers were grouped around the bulky figure 
 of Campbell, asking a hundred questions about the news from 
 home, &c. 
 
 There was scarcely an officer or private of the new comers but 
 was niet and greeted by some kinsman or old friend, whose canteen 
 of ration rum, or Lisbon wine, was at his service ; and loud were the 
 shouts of laughter and merriment that arose on all sides. Eager and 
 earnest were the inquiries about village homes and paternal hearths 
 in " the land of the mountain and the flood," and to many a Jean, 
 Jessy, and Tibby, were the -wooden canteens drained to their dregs ; 
 but although the fun " grew fast and furious " amongst many, there 
 were some whose hearts grew sad at the intelhgence which their 
 comrades brought, of some grey head, which they loved and revered, 
 being laid in the aust in some old and well-remembered kirk-yard ; 
 or of a faithless Jenny, who preferred a lover at home to one far 
 away in Spain. 
 
 As the shades of night darkened over the plain of La Nava, the 
 sounds died away ; and stretching their bare legs on the dewy earth, 
 the hardy Highlanders reposed between the pyramids of firelocks 
 and bayonets that glittered in the red glare of the watch-fires, lighted 
 at certain distances throughout the bivouac, which became quiet for 
 the night, after strong picquets had been posted in the direction of 
 Merida, where fifteen hundred French, under the command of Ge- 
 neral Dombrouski (a Pole in Buonaparte's service), were quartered. 
 [Rolled up in a cloak and blanket, Ronald laid himself down like 
 the rest, with the basket-hilt of his claymore for a pillow, and clay 
 for his bed ; but to sleep in a situation so new and uncomfortable 
 was almost impossible, and he often raised his head to view the 
 strange scene around mm. 
 
 The ruddy blaze of the fires was cast upon the worn uniform, 
 faded tartan, and sun-burnt knees and faces of the soldiers, giving 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 35 
 
 a strong light and shade, which increased the picturesque and ro- 
 mantic appearance of the bivouac. The arms of the sentries flashed 
 in the hght, as they paced slowly to and fro on their posts ; and 
 farther off were seen the motionless forms of the cavalry yioettes^ 
 appearing like black equestrian statues in the distance, standing per- 
 fectly still, with their long dark cloaks flowing over their horses' 
 flanks ; but as the night grew darker, and the hght_ of the watch- 
 fii'es waned, these distant objects could be no longer discerned. 
 
 The bright stars were twinkling in the dark blue sky, and among 
 them a red planet in the west (the Ton-thena of Ossian), which Ro- 
 nald used to watch for hours at midnight from the battlements of the 
 tower at Lochisla, while listening to the ancient tales of war or woe 
 related by Donald Iverach. 
 
 He thought sadly of his home, and of poor Alice Lisle. He gazed 
 upon her miniature until the nickering light of the fire failed him, 
 and then dropped into an uneasy slumber, from which he was startled 
 more than once by the deep howhng of wild dogs, or other animals, 
 from that paxt of the plain where the dead bodies of the slain lay 
 uniuterred. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII 
 
 MEEIDA. 
 
 TowAEDS morning a storm of rain and wind arose, and none but 
 those who have experienced it can imagine the manifold miseries of 
 a tentless bivouac on such an occasion. Howling dismally among 
 the trees of the cork-wood, the cold wind swept over the desert 
 plain, and the sleety rain descended in torrents, drenching the un- 
 sheltered soldiers to the skin, and extinguishing their fires; as the 
 cold increased towards daybreak, they cursed the order which had 
 halted them in so exposed and dreary a spot, to which even the cork- 
 wood or ruins of La Nava would have been preferable. 
 
 It became fair about daybreak, and Ronald, unable to remain 
 longer on the ground, where the water was actually forming in pud- 
 dles around him, arose ; and so wet was the soil, that the impression 
 made by the weight of his body was almost immediately filled with 
 water. His limbs were so benumbed and stiff", that he could scarcely 
 move, and his clothing was drenched through the blanket and cloak 
 m which he had been mufiied up. The soldiers, worn out with the 
 fatigues of the preceding day, lay still until the last moment for rest, 
 and slept in ranks close together for warmth, mth their muskets 
 under their great coats, and their knapsacks beneath their heads for 
 pillows. Here and there, apart from the rest, one might be seen Avith 
 his miserable wife and two or three Uttle children huddled close 
 beside him, all nesthng under the solitary blanket (provided by Go- 
 vernment for each man), from which the steam arose in a column, 
 owing to the heat of their bodies acting on the rain-soaked covering. 
 The distant sentinels and cavalry videttes were standing motionless 
 and silent at intervals along the plain, where banks of white mist 
 were roUing slowly in the yellow lustre of the morning sun, the 
 rising light of which was gilding the summits of the mountains above 
 Albuquerque. All was miserv and unutterable discomfort. Ronald 
 
 332 
 
86 THE EOMANCE OF WAU. 
 
 wrung the water from the feathers of his bouuet. and kept himself 
 in motion to dry his regimentals and underclotliiiig, which stuck 
 close to his skin. He now perceived that, in additionto his blankcl, 
 Evan had, during the storm, cast over him his own great coat, stand- 
 ing out the misery of the night in his thin uniform. AYlien ho met 
 Houald's eye, he was shivering with cold, exhaustion, and want of 
 sleep. 
 
 " O Evan ! my faithful but fooHsh fellow, what is this you have 
 done ? Did you really strin yourself for me, ana pass the night thus 
 exposed ? " exclaimed Eonaid, his heart overflo-^ving with tumultuous 
 feelings at the kindness of his humble follower and old friend. 
 
 " I thocht ye would be cauld, sir," replied Evan, his teeth chatter- 
 ing while he spoke, " and my heart bled to see ye lying there like a 
 beast o' the field on the dreary muir, in siccan a miserable and eerie 
 nicht. Eor me it mattered naething — for neither my name nor bluid 
 are gentle. I'm the son of your faither's vassal; and, Maistcr 
 Eonaid, I did but my duty — what my puir auld faither ^^•ouId hae 
 wished me to do." 
 
 " See that you never again subject yourself to such a privation oa 
 my account : and Heaven knows, Evan, I mil not forget yoiu" kind- 
 ness," said Eonaid, laying his hand familiarly on the tufted wing 
 which adorned Iverach's shoulder. " You appear to be perishing 
 with cold, and my canteen is empty. See if your comrade, Angus 
 Mackie, or any one, will give you a drop of something to warm you. 
 Where is the colonel ? I do not see him." 
 
 " L>ing yonder, on the bieldy side of his horse." 
 
 "AndMr. Macdonald— " 
 
 " Is sleeping by the bieldy side of the major, and a burn of water 
 rinnin round them. Och, sirs ! its awfu' wark this for gentlemen's 
 sons." 
 
 " Eouse, Alister," said Eonaid, stirring him vnth. his sword ; '' we 
 shall get under arms immediately. I see, through the mist yonder, 
 that Howard is i)reparing to mount." He shaded the rays of the sun 
 from liis eyes with his hand, and perceived at some distance the 
 brigadier, with his tall cocked-hat and large military cloak, examining 
 the girths of his saddle and the holsters, while he despatched the 
 brigade -major to the officers commanding regiments. The long roll 
 of several drums, sounding dull and muffled with the rain, imme- 
 diately followed, rousing the bivouac ; and the troops " stood to their 
 arms," preparatory^ to moving off, all draggled and w^et, and with 
 empty stomachs, in the direction of the enemy, who were to be driven 
 from Merida at the point of the bayonet. 
 
 The women and camp-followers were sent oflF to the rear, where 
 the baggage-mules were halted on the La Nava road ; the wet cloaks 
 and blankets were rolled up for the march, the ofhcers shnging theu's 
 in their sashes of crimson silk, while those of the soldiers were 
 strapped to their knapsacks. 
 
 "Uncase the colours, gentlemen. Examine your flints," cried 
 Cameron, touching his bonnet to the oflScers, as he rode along the 
 front of the hue. 
 
 In a few^ minutes the troops moved oflT in close column, with the 
 light cavalry on their flanks ; and making a circuit about the plain, 
 advanced upon Merida, skirting the cork-wood through which the 
 French had retired on the preceding evening. Eonaid scanned the 
 plain with an earnest eye in search or the two dead men, the slaugh- 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAE. 37 
 
 tor of whom had haunted his mind during the whole of the last 
 night ; and the reader may conceive the disgust which he and others 
 experienced, when, on the spot where they had fallen, the scattered 
 bones of two skeletons were discovered, red and raw as they had 
 been left by wild animals, which had been busy upon them the live- 
 long night. Yesterday they were active young soldiei-?, animated, 
 probably, with spirit, courage, and many a noble sentiment ; to-day 
 they were bare skeletons, left to bleach unburied on the plain, as the 
 troops had no time to inter them. The old campaigners faced them 
 T.vith comparative indifference ; but there was altogether something 
 rather appalUng to so young a soldier as Ronald in the lesson of Avar 
 and mortality before him, and gloomy feelings, which he endeavoured 
 to shake off, took possession of his mind. But it was not a time to 
 appear depressed when there was a chance of hearing shot w;hizzing 
 in an hour or so more, and his spirits rose as the six regimental 
 pipers, with their major, Macdonuil-dhu, in their front, struck up a 
 \vell-known Scottish quick-step ; and all pressed forward in hopes of 
 driving the enemy from their post, and obtaining a meal there. 
 
 During a march of several miles, they saw but little of the boasted 
 f'ruitiulness of Spain, The soil appeared rich enough in some parts, 
 but it lay untended and untilled, for the roll of the drum and the 
 glitter of arms had scared away the husbandman and vine-dresser, 
 making the once-peaceful peasantry either prowling plunderers, or 
 fierce and savage guerillas, turning the plough-share into a sword, 
 and a fertile country into a neglected wilderness. 
 
 As the wood of La I^ ava lessened in the rear, the city of Merida, 
 situated on a high hill, around the base of which the Guadiana vran- 
 dered amid groves of cork-wood, laurel, and olive, presented itself to 
 view. Merida, one of the most ancient cities in Spain, was once the 
 capital of a province of the same name, and numerous are the remains 
 of Eoman and Gothic grandeur which are preserved within the 
 circle of its mouldering fortifications. 
 
 Dombrouski, a brave soldier of fortune in the service of France, 
 commanded the enemy, and he had put the toAvn in the best possible 
 state of defence by raising a few redoubts on the granite hill beside 
 the city. He barricadoed the streets with the furniture of the citi- 
 zens, and all that the soldiers could lay hands on for the purpose ; 
 the suburban houses and walls were loop-holed, and the Pole was 
 determined to defend his post, if a force came against it for w^hich 
 he deemed himself a match; but when the waving colours and 
 polished arms of Sir Rowland Hill's di^dsion. sixteen _ thousand 
 strong, appeared descending the gentle slope towards the city, he saw 
 the folly of his resolution, and prepared to abandon his position. On 
 the nearer approach of the Britisfi, they beheld the corps of Dom- 
 brouski formed outside the town, preparatory to moving off by the 
 ancient Roman bridge, the lofty arches of which span the deep 
 waters of the Guadiana, On a front movement being made among 
 oiu' cavalry, the French, not wishing to feel the steel of thofce who 
 had so lately gained the battle of Arroya-del-^Molino, retreated 
 double quick, "without firing a shot ; and in a short time the glitter 
 of their appointments and the flashing tops of their glazed sliakoes 
 disappeared among the olive-groves and broken ground in the direc- 
 tion 6f the town of Almendraleio, where a strong party lay, com- 
 manded by the Count d'Erlon, The division halted, and bivouacked 
 about Merida, to which those inhabitants who had fled during it^ 
 
38 THE KOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 occupation by Doinbrouski returned: the streets were filled vpith 
 aoclaniations of welcome to the British, and the bells rang merrily 
 from the steeples of the churches and convents, A small ration was 
 now served out to the half-famished soldiers, and thousands of fii'es 
 were lit in every direction ; while all the camp-kettles and pans were 
 put in requisition for cooking, and the axes, saws, and bill-hooks of 
 the pioneers made devastation among the underwood and wild 
 groves to procure fuel. 
 
 The miserable ration consisted of a few ounces of flour and flesh, 
 given to each man alike, without distinction. The flesh was that of 
 nl-fed, jaded, and wearied bullocks, which had become too old for 
 agricultural labour, driven up rapidly after the army. Those given 
 to each regiment were instantly shot through the head, flayed, and 
 in a twinkling served out m the allotted quantities, which were 
 placed warm in the camp-kettles to boil, almost before the circulation 
 of the blood,^ or the vibration of the fibres, had ceased. 
 
 This was the usual way in which the military rations were served 
 out in Spain, — killed and eaten when the animals were in a state of 
 fever from long and hasty journeys, tough and hard as bend-leather, 
 in consequence of age, ill-feeding, and want of proper cooking. 
 
 More lucky than thousands of their comrades, who pursued their 
 cuhnary operations in the open air, Eonald and Alister Macdonald 
 obtained possession of a deserted shed or house in the suburbs, where 
 Evan Iverach, casting aside his accoutrements, began to prepare in 
 the best manner he could the poor meal, for which, however, the 
 appetites of all were sufliciently sharpened, for they had not broken 
 their fast since they quitted Albuquerque. 
 
 The WTetched apartment had neither windows nor shutters to 
 boast of ; and the arms of leafless vines straggled in at the apertiires, 
 through wliich; now and then, the swarthy face of a passing Spaniard 
 appeared, looking in with evident curiosity. Strong black rafters 
 crossed by red tiles, the joints of which admitted the dayhght, 
 compoS'3d the roof; the floor was earth pounded hard by means of a 
 pavior's rammer, or some such instrument. As the room had no 
 fire-place, Evan made one by means of two stones placed in the centre 
 of the floor ; between them was kindled a flre with one of the doors, 
 which Eonald had torn down, and he^vn in pieces with his sword. 
 
 The smoke filled the place, and rolled in volumes out at every 
 aperture. A large stone and Evan's knapsack set on end composed 
 their furniture, and, seated thus, they set about the discussion of 
 their meal, which, when cooked, was but a sorry mess, being merely 
 the tough flesh boiled Avith the flour, without the aid of a single 
 vegetable, — tasteless and insipid ; but hunger is said to be " the best 
 sauce," and they despatched it Avith infinite relish. Each had pro- 
 duced his knife, fork, and spoon from his havresack, a strong bag of 
 coarse linen, in which provisions are carried on service, and their 
 dinner-set was conipiete. 
 
 " Hech me, sirs ! I would rather sup sour crowdy at the ingle neuk 
 o' auld Lochisla, than chow sic fushionless trash as tliis," said Evan 
 with strong contempt, as he sat squatted on the floor, taking his 
 share of the provision out of a camp-kettle Hd, and scarcely seen 
 amid the smoke. " It micht pass muster wi' a puir chield hke me ; 
 but I trow it's no for sic as you, Maister Eonald, or you, Maister 
 Macdonald, or ony gentleman o' that ilk." 
 
 "It is confounded stuff, certainly," renlied Alister, laughing at the 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 35- 
 
 young Highlander's quaint mode of expression; "the flesh is as 
 tough as a buff belt, and the old bull it belonged to has seen hard 
 service, no doubt, in his day. But I wish that we had a drop of the 
 purple Lisbon wine to wash it down with, eh, Eonald ? " 
 
 "We are better off than our Portuguese comrades, however bad 
 our present fare ; they, poor fellows, have only received a few ounces 
 of wheat each man." 
 
 " And an unco chappin' they are making by the water side, sir, 
 ilka man pounding his wheat between twa stanes, into something 
 to mak' bannocks m'. Puir black-avised deevils ! I pity them 
 muckle," observed Evan, who, from many circumstances combined, 
 presumed to break the laws of military etiquette, and mingle in the 
 conversation. " It's an unco thing to march far wi' an empty wame 
 and fecht fasting. It makes my very heart loup like a laverock, 
 when I think o' the braw Scots brochan and kail, that the miserable 
 folk here ken naething aboot. O, it's a puir hole this Spain, I think, 
 either to fecht or forage in." 
 
 " If you grumble thus, Evan, I shall be led to suppose you will 
 make but a poor soldier. We have seen httle of Spain yet ; the best 
 part of the country and the summer are still before us, and let us 
 hope that this is the worst. But there is Uttle pleasure in abiding in 
 this wretched sheiling, where we are almost choked and blinded with 
 smoke. Let us find out some wine-house, where we can get some- 
 thing to gargle our throats with. Come, Macdonald, we shall be 
 smoked like deer's hams, if we sit here longer. There are the ruins 
 of the Eoman amphitheatre, and other things in this city of Merida, 
 which I would wish to see, and our time is short ; we march again in 
 the morning, as you know." 
 
 On passing down the principal street, their attention was attracted 
 by the ruins of a noble triumphal arch (a rehc of the Eoman power), 
 under Avhich lay mouldering fragments of the rich cornice and 
 marble statues that had fallen from above. Near the arch stood two 
 tall Corinthian columns, upwards of forty feet in height, the last 
 remnants of some magnificent temple. 
 
 The houses were ]ofty, and decorated with heavy entablatures, 
 pilasters, and ornaments of stucco or plaster, some of them richly 
 gilt, and many had broad balconies of stone or iron projecting over 
 the pavement. On some of them appeared dark-haired and dark- 
 eyed Senoritas, wearing the long sweeping veil and graceful black 
 mantilla^ of which so much has been said by romancers, surveying 
 with smiles of wonder and pleasure, the strange scene of so many 
 foreign uniforms crowding the streets, and waving their fans and 
 handkerchiefs, crying to the British officers who passed them, " Viva ! 
 la valiante Inglesa! viva!" 
 
 " What beautiful eyes and splendid figures these girls have," said 
 Macdonald rapturouslv, doffing his bonnet to a group of fair ones, 
 whose attention their Highland garb had attracted. " By Heaven ! 
 we have no such eyes at home. How they flash under their long 
 lashes ! I never beheld such glossy curls as those that stream from 
 under their veils." 
 
 " I have, Ahster," was Eonald's brief reply. 
 
 " Ay, in her whose miniature you wear under the fold of your 
 shoulder-belt ; I saw it for an instant the other day at Albuquerque. 
 Nay, nay, man, you need not colour or look so cross ; I shall not tell 
 any of our fellows, and we have no mess here to try your fiery temper 
 
40 inE EOiLAJsCE OF WAE. 
 
 by jokes and quizzing. But keep it in a more secure place ; should 
 it be seen by Grant or Bevan, or any of them, it may become the 
 source of continual jesting." 
 
 '' Those who dare to jest with me on such a subject may find it 
 dangerous work," said Eonald, coldly and haughtily. " But here is 
 the place we have been looking for — the Caza de Vino." 
 
 A bunch of gilded grapes, suspended over the door of a low flat- 
 roofed building, announced it to be the shop of a retailer of wine. 
 The doorway was crowded by British, Portuguese, and German 
 oflQcers, who were pressing their way in and out, intermixed with a 
 few cigar-smoking citizens, wearing broad sombreros and the eternal 
 long Spanish cloak, enveloping their whole form in a manner not 
 ungraceful; but in the style of mysterious gentry on the stage, 
 rendering it impossible to discover their rank in society ; in fact, all 
 the Spaniards they beheld were exactly like one another. All 
 smoked cigars with the same air of immovable gravity ; all wore the 
 same sombre attire, and strode under the piazzas of the Plaza with 
 the same haughty swagger. To stroll about smoking by day, and to 
 sit listlessly at night muffled in their mantles, with tneir feet resting 
 on a pan of hot charcoal while they sipped their sour wine, appeared 
 to be their only emplojinent, 
 
 Eonald and his friend made their way into a spacious oblong apart- 
 ment, fitted up in the plainest manner with rough deal seats and 
 tables, at which sat many of the officers of the second division, — the 
 red, or rather purple coats of the British, the blue of the Portuguese, 
 the green of the German rifles, and the brown of a few Spaniards, 
 being intermingled. Several olive- cheeked young girls, with their 
 long black hair streaming unbound, wearing short petticoats, large 
 bustles, and high-heeled shoes, were continually tripping about, 
 and serving the country wine in all kinds of vessels, from which it 
 was rapidly transferred to the throats of the thirsty carousers ; and 
 a strange din of several languages and many sonorous voices shook 
 the rafters of the place. 
 
 " A devil of a den this. Let us quit it as soon as possible," said 
 Macdonald, draining his horn of dark liquor. 
 
 " As soon as you please. I am almost stifled with the fumes of 
 garlic from the Portuguese, and tobacco from the Germans. Look 
 at old Blacier, of the 60th Eifles, how quietly he sits in that comer, 
 filling the whole place with the smoke of his long pipe." 
 
 " Looking as grave as his serene mightiness of Hesse Humbug. 
 But I do not see any of ours here." 
 
 " There's Campbell, sitting beside Armstrong, of the 71st ; doubtless 
 he is fighting some battle in Egypt over again. He speaks so 
 earnestly, that he is not aware of our presence, — and yonder is 
 Chishohn." 
 
 "Stuart," exclaimed Alister, abruptly, "who can that strange 
 fellow be who seems to scrutinize you so narrowly ? See, behind the 
 chair of Blacier, in the dark recess of the doorv/ay." 
 
 Eonald looked in the direction pointed out, and beheld the fierce 
 serpent-like eyes of a well-known face fixed on him with a settled 
 stare. 
 
 " It is the rascal Narvaez," whispered Eonald, making a stride 
 towards the place ; but the worthy, pulling his sombrero over his 
 face, pressed through the crowd, gained the door, and disappeared. 
 
 " Pshaw ! let him go," said Alister, holding Eonald back by his silk 
 
THE KOMANCE OF WAK. 41 
 
 sash. " You Burely would not follow him ? You are neithei" an 
 alcalde nor an alguazil, and you need not care how many he sends 
 to the shades. He eyes you mth a look that bodes you no good, and 
 the revengeful disposition of these swarthy gentlemen is well known. 
 I would advise you to be on your guard ; perhaps he is dogging you 
 for your squabble at Albuquerque." 
 
 "If ever I meet the vagabond on a hill side," rephed Ronald, 
 angrily, " I will teach him to model his face differently, when he 
 dares to look at me." 
 
 " Ay ; but 'tis not decently on the hill side that disputes are settled 
 here. A stab in the dark, or a shot from behind a hedge, ends 
 matters, and all is over," answered Macdonald, as they issued into 
 the street, after settling with the patron. " And now, before it is 
 quite dark, let us take a view of the amphitheatre. I see its ruins 
 above the flat-roofed houses at the end of the street yonder, and a 
 bold outline it rears against the clear sky of the evening." 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 AN ADYENTUJRE. 
 
 It was almost dusk when they entered the vast and gloomy ruins 
 of the amphitheatre, the appearance of which was rendered doubly 
 impressive by the sombre light in which it was viewed. The broad 
 arena, where once the bold gladiator contended for honour, or the 
 wretched malefactor for his life, straining every desperate energy in 
 battle with the fiercest animals of the wilderness, was now overgrown 
 with grass, as were also the wide circles of seats rising from it ; and 
 from the arcades of arches, from the mouldered cornices, the shattered 
 columns, and empty niches, waved weeds and nettles, showing how 
 vain was the pride of the founder and the architect, and telling that 
 time was too powerful for the mighliest work of human hands, — that 
 man's labours, like himself, are perishable. 
 
 In some places great masses of masonry had fallen down, where the 
 clamps of iron and brass had mouldered away, and ponderous archi- 
 traves and fragments of friezes, bearing ornaments and Eoman 
 inscriptions, were lying in the centre of the arena half buried in the 
 soil. All was silence and ruinous desolation now in the place where 
 (mce the beautiful, the brave, and the noble, had witnessed and 
 applauded soul-stirring deeds of martial prowess, manly strength, 
 and unequalled cruelty and ferocity. Its vast arcades and empty 
 galleries rang no more with the flourish of the trumpet, the clash of 
 cymbals, the shout which greeted the triumphant victor in the lists, 
 the yell or the dying groan of his vanquished opponent. 
 
 From the grass-covered arena, around which appeared the dark 
 dens where lions, tigers, and other savage animals had been confined, 
 [Ronald and his friend clambered up the stone seats, which rose one 
 above another like a flight of broad steps, until they gained the upper- 
 most corridor or gallery, which ran round the whole fabric on the 
 outside. From this eminence they obtained a view of the scenery 
 below and around them. Night had now set in, and darkness 
 reigned in the streets of Meridn,. Towering above the low roofs 
 appeared the other remains of Eoman greatness, — the noble arch 
 
42 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 which had rung so often to the tread of their martial legions, and the 
 shattered temple where marble gods had received the fervent adora- 
 tion of idolaters. 
 
 A thousand watch-fires cast their lurid ^lare on the silent waters 
 of the Guadiana, on the dark groves of olive overhanging its glassy 
 surface, on the lofty outline of the Eoman bridge, and on the black 
 buildings of the adjacent town, from the bivouac of Sir Rowland's 
 division. The piles of burnished arms glittered in the Hght, which 
 was reflected by the bayonets of the sentries at the river side, and by 
 the sabres of the far-ofi" cavalry videttes, and of the advanced picquets 
 on its opposite side, keeping watch and ward on the road to Almen- 
 dralejo. A low hum of many mingled voices rose from the place 
 where the soldiers lay, mingled with the occasional neigh of a horse, 
 the sharper sound of the cavalry trumpet turning out the picquets, 
 or the roll of a distant infantry drum recalling stragglers echoing 
 among the granite crags, and dying away in the thickets by the 
 water side ; and nearer rang the more discordant noise of laughter 
 and reckless military merriment from the wine-house in the neigh- 
 bouring street. 
 
 "Yonder is the evening star glimmering above the summit of the 
 dark mountain to the southward of us/' observed E-onald, in a low 
 tone ; " it rises twinkling just as I have seen it rising above the noble 
 Benmore, in Perthshire ; and while I view its well-known appear- 
 ance, my heart fills with strange emotions. I can almost fancy 
 myself at home in the Highlands, — at home in my father's house." 
 
 " 1 am animated by similar feelings," replied Macdonald, in the 
 same subdued voice. " Many that love us dearly may at this moment 
 be watching it and thinking of us, jNIany a summer gloaming, in my 
 dismal moods, I have Avatched it rising amid the white breakers, and 
 shining above the ruined spire of lona, while the empty arches of the 
 cathedral were illumined with the red flush of the setting sun. Ah, 
 Stuart ! I know these places well ; my father dwells in Inch-kenueth, 
 in the Avild and surf-beaten western isles. It is a sweet httle place 
 the Inch, with dark foliage hanging from the tall rocks over the 
 boihng ocean. These rmns around us are all very well in their way, 
 but I would not give the Eunic cross and the Culdee's cell, which 
 cover the graves of my ancestors, even for all the ruins of Rome ! 
 JBut let us not begin to muse thus : I shall become too melancholy to 
 feel agreeable. We must retrace our steps to the bivouac, for both 
 fighting and hard marching are before us in the morning, over the 
 hills yonder," said he, pointing in the direction of Almendralejo, 
 where a faint crimson streak illumined the dark sky, caused probably 
 by the watch-fires of D'Eiion's troops. 
 
 " Wliat ! do you think of returning to the den where we cooked 
 our splendid repast ? " 
 
 " We should be eaten up by rats and the Spanish musquitoes before 
 morning ; better the bivouac where our comrades stretch their bare 
 legs on the cold sod. Fassifem would ill hke us seeking even the 
 shelter of a kennel, while he sleeps as usual under the heels of his 
 horse, with the pommel of his saddle for a pillow." 
 
 " You speak of a kennel ; I assure you, Macdonald, that last night 
 I envied the old barrel in which our household dog at Lochisla takes 
 his repose in the barbican. But we shall lose ourselves here, the 
 streets are so dark and strange." As he si)oke, they had quitted the 
 nuns of the amphitheatre, and entered a dark and silent street 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 43 
 
 leading towards the Plaza. It was empty, and its stillness was broken 
 only by the ripple of the Guadiana, chafing against the stone quay at 
 one end, past which its broad and rapid current flowed unceasingly. 
 " Have Sir Rowland and his staff quarters in Merida ?" 
 " I have not heard that they have. Eut hush ! we have something 
 here that savours of romance," replied Macdonald, as they heard the 
 notes of a guitar sounding as if struck by a bold and firm hand ; anrj. 
 immediately (the prelude being over) a fine, clear, and manly voice 
 sang a song, which, being in Spanish, was not understood by his 
 listeners, excepting the burden which he repeated at the end of every 
 verse — 
 
 " Yo acuerdo de te, querida, — 
 Adios! adios! " 
 
 " What cavahero is this ?" whispered Macdonald. "I thought that 
 these days of serenading had passed away, even in Spain." 
 
 " I know him ; it is Alvaro de Yilla Franca, a captain of the 
 Spanish cavalry. I see the tall outhne of his figure now, and I well 
 know his helmet with the red horse-hair on its crest." 
 
 " Keep under the shadow of the houses, Stuart ; perhaps he may 
 sing again. But he sui'ely hears us ; he is looking round." 
 
 The form of the Spanish ojB&cer, the outhne of his high helmet, 
 and his large bullion epaulettes, were now distinctly visible. When 
 his song ceased, a window above opened, a hght flashed through the 
 shutters, and a lady appeared on the iron balcony; she clapped 
 her hands, and the dragoon drew near, when a conversation, carried 
 on in low and earnest tones, ensued. The don had placed his hand 
 on the lower part of the balcony, preparatory to swinging himself 
 up, when a noise in the street caused the lady to start away, and 
 close the shutters of the window with the utmost precipitation. 
 
 " Caramba !" cried the Spaniard, fiercely turning round and 
 endeavouring to pierce the darkness which enveloped the stradi ; but 
 nothing could be discovered. After a vain attempt again to obtain 
 a hearing from the lady, he took his guitar under his arm, and pro- 
 ceeded leisurely down the street on the darkest side, as if to elude 
 observation, still humming the burden of his ditty, " Adios querida,'* 
 while his heavy spurs and long steel scabbard clattered in accom- 
 paniment. The two British officers had turned to pursue their way 
 towards the Plaza, when a cry of " Diavolo ! AIi, perros — ladrones ! 
 Carajo!" burst from the Spaniard, followed immediately by a 
 clashing of steel blades, the noise of which drew Eonald and Ahster- 
 hastily to the spot. Here they found Don Alvaro, with his back to 
 the wall, contending fiercely with his single weapon against six 
 armed men, from whose swords and poniards he made the fire fly at 
 every stroke he dealt, keeping them at bay with admirable courage 
 and skill. 
 
 " One, two, three — six to one ! the rascally cowards ! Draw, Alis- 
 ter,— draw and strike in," cried Eonald, unsheathing his sword,— an 
 example ^vhichhis companion was not slow in following, and all three 
 were soon engaged, two to one, against the assailants of Alvaro, who 
 were surprised at this unexpected attack, and fought with double 
 desperation to escape. The whole of Eonald's long-nourished love 
 of tumult, his fiery spirit and inherent fierceness, broke forth in this 
 martial fray, and indeed he was put to his mettle. No fewer than 
 three of the ruffians fell upon him pell-mell, cutting and thrusting with 
 
44 THE BOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 their loner blades, while they watched every opportunity to ase the 
 sharper stilettoes which armed their left hands. Honald's recimental 
 gorget saved him from one deadly thrust at his throat, and the thick 
 folds of his plaid, where they crossed the iron plate of his left 
 epaulette -strap, saved him from more than one downright blow 
 Sweeping his long claymore round him, with both his hands clenched 
 in its basket-hilt, he fought with the utmost energy, but only on the 
 defensive, and was compelled to retire backwards step by step to- 
 wards the quay of the Guadiana, where he must have been nievitably 
 dro^^Tied or slain, but for the timely interference of a fourth sword, 
 which, mingling its strokes with theirs, struck the three Spanish 
 blades to shivers. Two of the fellows immediately fled, and plunging 
 into the river swam to the opposite bank ; the third would have 
 Ibllowed, but Eonald, grasping him by the throat, adroitly struck 
 the poniard from his hand, and pinning him to the earth, placed his 
 foot upon his neck. At the same moment Alister Macdonald passed 
 his long claymore through the body of the fourth, who fell shrieking 
 — Santa Maria ! O Dios ! JDios ! " and almost instantly expired. 
 The other two, who had been driven far off by the Spanish officer, 
 now fled, and the brawl was ended. 
 
 " Hot work this, gentlemen," said Campbell, in his usual jocular 
 tone. It was his sword which had intervened so opportunely be- 
 tween Ronald and destruction. " The fray has been bravely fought 
 and gallantly finished. You have drawn your sword to-night lor 
 the first time, Stuart, and proved yourself a lad of the proper stuJT. 
 Keep your foot tight upon the growling scoundrel, and if he dares 
 to stir, pin him to the pavement. This affair beats hollow my brawl 
 at Grand Cairo, when we were in Egypt "uith Sir Ealph, By the 
 bye, what did the fray begin about ? " 
 
 " I am sure I cannot say," replied Eonald, panting with his late 
 exertion ; " but for your prompt assistance, major, it might have 
 ended otherv^-ise. Alister, I am glad you have disposed of your oppo- 
 nent in so secure a manner, — yet his horrid death-cry rings strangely 
 in my ears." A grim smile curled the handsome features of Mac- 
 donald, who viiped his sword in his tartan plaid, and jerked it into 
 the sheath in silence. 
 
 " Senores — qffieiales, I thank you for the good service you have 
 rendered me to-night," said the Spanish officer in good English, 
 vv'hile he made a low obeisance, " and am happy that you have all 
 escaped unharmed : but y.'e must dispose of this remaining villain. 
 Be pleased to stand aside, senor, that I may run him through the 
 heart. A fair thrust from the blade of a noble cavaliero is too good 
 a death for such a fellow." 
 
 " Sir, I should be sorry to thwart you in your pleasure, but have a 
 little patience, pray," replied the major, laughing at the coolness of 
 the don's request, and parrying with his stick a thrust made at the 
 bravo, who lay prostrate under Ronald's foot. " As tliis felloVs skin 
 is whole, he may be inclined to ler you know his employer, or what 
 all tliis row began about." 
 
 " Right, senor ; I had forgotten that. Dog!" cried Don Alvaro, 
 fiercely dashing his guitar into a thousand fragments on the head oi 
 the bravo, " tell me who employed your rascal hands against my 
 person ! l"ou will not answer ? "Well, we must prove what materials 
 your skin is made of. By Santiago ! I will have it flayed off you 
 \vitli a red-hot sabre, if you do not confess ! The tortures of the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 45 
 
 Inquisition will be as nothing to what I will inflict on your miserable 
 body, if you are stubborn. Aid me, noble senors, m takmg tins 
 wretch to the Convento de San Juan de Mcrida, m the Plaza ; my 
 troop is quartered there. 'Tis but a pistol-shot from here _ 
 
 It was impossible to refuse. Don Alvaro tied tightly with his siik 
 sash the hands of the captive, who was dragged without cereuiony 
 from street to street, to the entrance of a narrow dark alley leading 
 to the convent of Saint John, the front of which looked to^^'a^ds the 
 
 " Quien vive ?" challenged the Spanish trooper on sentry with his 
 carbine in the Gothic porch. , . ^ xi i ^ ^.u 
 
 '= Espanar returned the don, as they passed into the gloomy body 
 of the building, in the vast extent of which their footsteps awoke a 
 thousand echoes. ^, -d^^„^ 
 
 "Ho! there, sargentos y soldaclos!" cried Alvaro. Pedro 
 Gomez, a light— a hght ! Rouse,— do you hear me?" 
 
 A strange bustle unmediately rose around them, and a sargento 
 appeared bearing a lamp, the hght of which revealed his browii uni- 
 form, and broAvner features. They found themselves in the chai)el 
 of the convent, and the red glare of the blazing lamp was cast on its 
 fluted columns, groined arches, and Gothic ornaments, giving a \vild 
 and romantic appearance to the scene, which was heightened by the 
 presence of Don Alvaro's troop. About sixty fine Spanish steeds, 
 with flowing tails and manes, stood ranged on each side oi the nave 
 of the building, saddled and bridled, bearing the carbines, holsters, 
 and valises of their riders, who, muflied in their long brown cloaks, 
 with their swords and helmets beside them, were sleeping among the 
 horse-htter, or looking up surprised at the interruption. Every man 
 lay beside his horse, and their tall lances were reared against the 
 shafted pillars, from which military accoutrements, curry-combs 
 horse-brushes, &c., were suspended from the necks of angels and 
 other effigies that adorned them. 
 
 " Pedro Gomez, raise the light," said Alvaro, and let us see the 
 face of this fellow, who to-night raised his hand against the life oi 
 your captain." . , . . , « ., 
 
 " Dios mio .'" cried Pedro, placing the lamp withm an mch ot the 
 prisoner's nose. , ^ ,, ... 
 
 " The villain Narvaez, by heavens !" exclaimed Eonald, recoihng 
 at the expression of indescribable hatred and ferocity legible m the 
 ruffian's countenance, while his eyes shone with the sparkle of a 
 demon's as the sullen glare of the lamp fell on their black balls. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Senor Cifuentes ? Speak up, man. You are the 
 very prince of rascals," said the major, giving hun a prob in the 
 stomach with his stick. , ,. , . 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Macdonald, scrutinizing him with disgust and 
 curiosity, " is this the fellow you told us about ? the keeper of the 
 wine-house at Albuquerque ?" 
 
 "Ay, the same," answered Eonald; "a wretch who slew in cold 
 blood the Prench officers. But he shall not escape us now." 
 
 '•'If I should, vou shall live to repent it,— you shall, by the holy 
 mother of God !" said the bold ruffian, with a scornful smile. 
 A few words made Don Alvaro acquainted with the story of 
 
 * "Fellow!" said he, sternly, "I might almost forgive you the 
 slaughter of the four Prenchmeu,— I wish, however, that it had been 
 
46 THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 done less treacherously ; but for this attempt on my own life you 
 shall hang, and that instantly, by San Juan of Merida ! as a warning 
 io all low-born knaves to beware ere they draw their weapons on a 
 noble hidalgo. Diego de la Zarza, Pedro Gomez ! bring hither a 
 horse-halt^r, some of you " cried he to the astonished troopers who 
 crowded round. " Run this fellow up to the roof. Santos ! do you 
 hear?" 
 
 He had scarcely spoken, before Pedro Gomez cast his horse's halter 
 over the neck of a gigantic stone angel, whose extended mngs, carved 
 on a corbelled stone, supported one of the oak beams of the roof, 
 and prepared -with ready hands a noose ^vith a slip-knot to encircle 
 the neck of Narvaez, who beheld these summary preparations with 
 considerable trepidation ; and he would soon have swung a corse, but 
 for the interference of the three British officers, who, natives of a 
 clime where the passions are less violent than in Spain, revolted at 
 the idea of so sudden an execution. 
 
 " Stay, Don Alvaro, and put off his exit until to-morrow," said 
 Campbell. " I do not admire such quick despatch, although I have 
 seen a Turk's head fly off like a thistle's top, when I was in Egypt 
 with Sir Ralph." 
 
 " It would be losing time in the morning, as we march by day- 
 break," rephed the Don ; " but worthless as the villain is, I may alter 
 my decree if he gives me the name of his base employer." 
 
 " The husband of her whom you serenaded this night in the Calle 
 de San Juan," answered Narvaez, in a guttural tone. 
 
 " What, the guerilla chief, Don Salvador Xavier de Zagala?" cried 
 Alvaro, furiously, his eyes flashing fire. " Base coward ! ignoble 
 jidalgo ! But my sword shall reach him ere long, if he is to be found 
 on this side of the Pyrenees,— it shall, by the bones of the Cid ! Your 
 five rascal comrades were guerillas of his band. I thought I knew 
 the scarlet caps of the vagabonds." 
 
 " Noble cavalier ! do not forget your promise," said Narvaez, sup- 
 plicatingly. " What is now your decree ?" 
 
 " That you shall be shot in the morning instead of being hanged 
 to-night ! Sargento Gomez, see this carried into execution punctu- 
 ally, before the trumpets sound ' to horse,' as you value your life." 
 
 VVith all the indifference that he assumed at first, Cifuentes was a 
 coward at heart, and piteous were the entreaties he made for mercy, 
 and the promises he gave of reformation for the future, if the cava- 
 lier would spare his life ; but they were unheeded. The dragoons 
 thrust hini into a narrow dormitory adjoining the chapel, and a 
 sentinel, with liis carbine loaded, was placed at the door. 
 
 " Send for the Padre, Alvarez ; and let him make his peace with 
 Heaven." 
 
 " Noble senor, it will be difficult to find the reverend Padre in his 
 sober senses at this hour," replied Gomez. 
 
 "You are right, Pedro; he has no longer the Holy Inquisition, of 
 terrible memory, to scare him from his cups. This fellow may die 
 easily enough, \nthout the help of Latin. Should he make the 
 slightest attempt to escape, remember, Diego de la Zarza, to shoot 
 him dead without fail. And now, senors, let us retire, and leave my 
 troopers to repose, as we must be all in our saddles at crow of the 
 cock." 
 " What will be done with the fellow who lies dead in the street ?" 
 
THE BOMANCE OF "WAE 47 
 
 asked lionaldj as they stumbled down the dark alley leading from 
 the convent. 
 
 '•What could we do with him, senor ?" rephed the don, with sur- 
 prise. " The carcase will be found in the morning, and the finder 
 will bury it for the sake of the clothes, perhaps. To find a man 
 stabbed in the street is no marvellous matter in our Spanish towns. 
 Ton saw how httle notice the clash of our swords attracted : scarcely 
 a window opened, and no person approached. We take these affairs 
 coolly here, senor." , 
 
 " So it seems, Don Alvaro," said the major. " But there is the 
 clock of the toAvn-house striking the hour of eleven, and we have a 
 weary route before us in the morning ; so the sooner we seek some 
 place to roost in the better. I left Colonel Cameron and the rest ot 
 ours preparing for repose, under the bieldy side of a granite craig, — 
 but I fear you don't understand me, — at the confounded bivouan 
 yonder ; and the sooner we join them, the longer rest we shall have." 
 
 " You shall have no bivouacking to-night, senors. One gets quite 
 enough of it in these times ; and when a good billet comes in the 
 way, it should be accepted. I reside in Merida ; my family mansion 
 is at the corner of the Plaza : you shall pass the night with me there. 
 My sister, Donna Catahna, will be most happy to entertain the pre- 
 servers of her brother, — three cavahers who draw their swords for 
 the freedom of Spain." 
 
 " Certainly, Don Alvaro, we should be sorry to slight your offer,'* 
 said the major, " A comfortable quarter is a scarce matter in Spain 
 just now; and if Donna Catahna will not be incommoded by three 
 soldados billeting themselves upon her mansion without notice, we 
 are very much at your service. When I was in Egypt in 1801, 1 
 remember an adventure just such as — " . 
 
 " Take care of the curb, major," cried Eonald, as the bulky field- 
 ofiicer tripped against the side of the pavement. 
 
 " Just such as this. W^e were quartered at—" 
 
 " Grand Cairo," interrupted Eonald, ruthlessly ; for he disliked the 
 repetition of long stories, which was a faihng of the worthy major's, 
 who lugged in Egypt and Sir Ralph Abercrombie on all occasions. 
 " Ay, I remember the story, and a capital one it is ! But here is 
 Don Alvaro's house." 
 
 As he spoke, they halted before a large mansion, ornamented with 
 lofty columns and broad balconies, upon which the tall windows 
 opened : through the curtains bright rays of light streamed into the 
 dark street. Alvaro apphed his hand to the large knocker hanging 
 on the entrance door, which appeared more like the portal of a prison 
 than that of an hidalgo's residence, being low, arched, and studded 
 with iron nails. 
 
 " Quien es ?" said a voice wit'hin. 
 
 " Gente de paz !" rephed Alvaro, while the hght from the passage 
 flashed through a little panel which was drawn aside, and through 
 which they were cautiously scrutinized. 
 
 The door was immediately opened by an aged and wrinkled female 
 servant, whose bright black eyes contrasted strangely with her skin, 
 which was shrivelled and yellow as an old drum-head. Old Dame 
 Agnes, lamp in hand, led them along a passage, up a broad wooden 
 staircase, and into a noble and spacious apartment, which displayed 
 the usual combination of elegance and discomfort, so common in th« 
 
48 THE EOMANCE OF WaB. 
 
 houses of Spanish nobles. The ceiling presented beautifully painted 
 panels, and a gorgeous cornice of gilt stucco, supported by pilasters 
 of the Corinthian order ; while the floor from which they rose wa.s 
 composed of large square red tiles. Four large casements looked 
 toAvards the Plaza ; they were glazed Anth glass,— a luxury in Spain, 
 but their shutters were rough deal boards, which were barely con- 
 cealed by the rich wliit€ curtains overhanging them : the furniture 
 -was oak,— massive, clumsy, and old as the days of Don Quixote. 
 Upon the panels of the ceiling, the bases of the pillars, and other 
 pla<:es, appeared the blazonry of coats armorial, displaying the alli- 
 ances of the family of Villa i ranca. 
 
 On the table, beside a guitar, castanets, music-books, &c., stood a 
 large silver candelabrum, bearing four tall candles, the flames of which, 
 flickered in the currents of air flowing through many a chink and 
 cranny, as if to remind the three ]3ritish officers that it was at home 
 only that true comfort was to be found. Heat was diffused through 
 the room by means of a pan of glowing charcoal placed in the centre 
 of the floor, and a lady, who sat -nitli her feet resting upon it in the 
 Spanish manner, rose at their entrance. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 DONNA CATALINA. 
 
 As she stood erect, her velvet mantilla fell from her white shouldera, 
 displaying a round and exquisitely-moulded form, tall and full, yet 
 hght and graceful. The noble contour of her head, and the delicate 
 outline 9f her features, were shown by the removal of her black lace 
 veil, which she threw back, permitting it to hang sweeping down 
 behind, giving her that stately and dignified air so common to the 
 Spanish ladies, but of which our own are so deficient, ovdng, probablj', 
 to the extreme stiffness of their head-dress. Her skin was fair, ex- 
 ceedingly so for a Spaniard ; but the glossy curls of the deepest black 
 falling on her neck, rendered it yet more so by contrast. Her crimson 
 Ups and the fine form of her nostrils, her white transparent brow- 
 and full dark eyes, shining with inexpressible briUiance, struck the 
 three Scots mute with surprise, — almost with awe. So sho^vy a 
 beauty had not met their gaze since their departure from Edinburgh, 
 and even Eonald while keeping his hand mthin the breast of his 
 coat upon the miniature of Alice, felt his heart beneath it strangely 
 moved at the sight of the fair Spaniard. 
 
 "Don Alvaro, I think you might have spent with me the only 
 night you have been in Merida for this year past," said the young 
 lady, pouting prettily. 
 
 " Nay, my dear Catalina, you must not receive us thus," replied her 
 brother in Spanish, her knowledge of English being very shght. 
 '■' Allow me to introduce three British officers, to whom I am indebted 
 for the preservation of my life, which six bravoes, employed by old 
 Salvador de Zagala, put in imminent peril to-night." 
 
 " All ! you have been at your old affair — you have been visiting the 
 Calle de San Juan. How often have I warned you ! Ti^ell, and the 
 bravoes ?" 
 
 *■ One has been sent to unrs^atorv to-night, and another shall be 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAR. G5 
 
 bear it for her sake, iu memory of the days that are passed away, and 
 the thoughts I had nourished for years— ay, for years — since tlie days 
 v.e gathered the wild rose and the heather-bell on the bonniebraesi 
 now almost wish never to behold again." 
 
 Eor the lirst hour or two, he felt as if every cord that Iwund liim. 
 to happiness and existence w^as severed and broken, and an acute 
 feeling of mental agony swelled his breast almost to bursting. His 
 Highland pride came,' however, to his aid, and roused Avithin him 
 feelings equally bitter, though perhaps less distressing ; and starting 
 up, he strode hastily about the apartment, and emptied more than 
 once a large horn of Malaga, from a pig-skin which lay on a side- 
 table near him, drinking deeply to drown care, and allay the wild 
 tumult of his thoughts. But the wine was as water, and he quaifed 
 it without ettect. 
 
 The baseness of her desertion grew every moment more vivid ; and 
 how openly must she have renounced him, when even the public 
 Journals had become aware of her intended alliance, which must 
 have been a measure of her own free will, as her father, Sir Allan, 
 '>vould never control her affections, and the age of forced marriages 
 was passed away, or existed only in the pages of romance. Love and 
 jealousy, sorrow, pride, and a feeling of helplessness at the great dis- 
 tance "which separated him from Britain, passed ra])idly through his 
 mind ; and during the mental agony and tumult of the first few 
 hours, he forgot Catalina and the honourable struggles he had made 
 with himself to ^^'ithstand the witchery of her beauty, until the 
 recollection of it rushed fully upon him, raising him in his own 
 estimation, and lessening the fickle Alice in an equal degree. 
 
 He hastily threw open his baggage-trunk, and producing writing 
 materials, commenced a letter, in ^vhich he meant to upbraid her 
 bitterly, and take a haughty and sad farewell of her for ever. But so 
 gi-eat Avas his agitation, so fast did his ideas crowd upon each other, 
 and so much were they mingled together and confused, that he wTote 
 only rhapsodies in incoherent sentences, and sheet after sheet was 
 filled, torn up, and committed to the flames ; until it at last flashed 
 upon his mind that there were no means at present of transmitting a 
 letter, and he abandoned the attempt altogether. Whenever he 
 thought of Catalina, he felt more consoled for the loss of Alice ; but 
 yet the deep-rooted affection, the cherished sentiment of years, which 
 he felt for her, was a very different feeling from the temporary admi- 
 ration with which the Spanish lady had impressed him ; but ideas of 
 a prouder, and perhaps more healing kind, came to his aid. 
 
 " I tread the path which leads to the greatest of all earthly honours, 
 — even the passage to the throne lies through the tented field ; and 
 although I look not for that, the ambitious Alice may yet repent 
 having slighted the love of Ronald Stuart of Lochisla. We know 
 not what fate may have in store, or what the great lotter.y of life may 
 oast up for me. Alice ! oh, how false, how fickle, and how heartless ! 
 Like t\nn tendrils of the same tree, like little birds in the same nest, 
 we grew unto each other — our love increasing with our size and 
 years ; and yet, after all the tender sentnnents we have exchanged, 
 and the happiness we have enjoyed, she has thus cruelly abandoned 
 me, preferring the glitter of a title to the love of a brave and honesi 
 heart ! But let her go ; she will hear of me yet," ho said almost 
 aloud, while his sparkling eye fell on his claymore, Avhich lay upou 
 the table, " for this is the land where honour and lame are within tb^* 
 
66 THE PvOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 gras]! of a rocklcas and daring soldier— for reckless of life and limb 
 Avill I bo fr(^ra this hour. But 1 may fall unhonoured and unknown, 
 as ihousands have already done — as thousands more shall do ; yet 
 Alice, though perhaps she may drop a tear for me, will never be 
 upbraided with the sight of my tomb ! " 
 
 Long and silently ho continued brooding over the cursed intelli- 
 gence, which every moment grew, in his fancy, more like some 
 vision of a disturbed slumber, or some horrible enigma ; and the 
 hour of twelve tolled from the belfry of San Juan, yet he thought 
 not of rest. He had grown cai-eless of all external objects, and sat 
 with his brow loaning on his hand, absorbed in his OAra heart- 
 corroding fancies. His lamp sunk down in the socket and expired ; 
 the stars and the pale moon, sailing apparently through clouds of 
 gauze, glimmered through the tall casement into the gloomy 
 chamber, and poor iLOuald still sat there, revolving and re-revolving 
 the matter in his mind, which became a prey, by turns, to the very 
 opposite sentiments of love and sorrow, pride, revenge, indignation, 
 and ambition. 
 
 ^ w * w *?• ^ 
 
 He awoke suddenly, and found that he had been asleep in his 
 chair. The bright light of the morning sun was streaming between 
 the dark hangings of the lofty windows, and the tolling bells of the 
 neighbouring churches reminded him that it was Sunday. The 
 instant he awoke, the aching memorifes of the past night rushed 
 upon his mind ; but he thought of the matter \nth a little more 
 composure, and the presence of Donna Catalina, all blushes, smiles, 
 and beauty, when the morning was further advanced, contributed very 
 considerably to the re-establishment of his serenity, but her keen 
 eye observed that he v\a.s ill at ease. His usual vivacity was gone ; 
 he appeared much abstracted, seldom speaking except of his 
 departure, and in a tone of more than usual regret. They had pre- 
 viously arranged to visit the church of San Juan on that day, that 
 Ronald might see high mass performed, and hear the sub-prior, 
 whom the citizens considered a miracle of learning and piety, preach. 
 
 Catalina retired to don her walking attire, while Eonald, from the 
 balcony, gazed listlessly into the street, scarcely observing Avhat was 
 passing there. Peasantry from the neighbourhood were crowding 
 in, attired in dresses at once graceful and picturesque; the men 
 wearing, some the close vest, the broad sombrero, knee-breeches, and 
 large mantle, while others were without it, in a loose jacket, "s\ith a 
 sasii of ample size and gaudy colours tied round their waists, and 
 having on their heads long slouched caps. Many — almost all — wore 
 knives displayed somewhere about their person, and all had a 
 peculiar swagger in theu' walk, which seemed not ungraceful. 
 JBright-eyed women in their black hoods or mantillas, — priests in 
 their dark robes of sack-cloth, their waists encircled -svilh a knotted 
 cord,— graceful peasant girls, their short bunchy petticoats displaying 
 the most splendid ancles in the Avorld, — sturdy muleteers with their 
 long whips, — and market-women from the south bearing loads of 
 butter, milk, and fruit, on their heads, were crowding the streets 
 and thronging about the dark piazzas in every direction, and a loud 
 gabble of tongues in Spanish was heard on all sides. Clouds of 
 smoke arose from cigars, as every man had one m his mouth ; and 
 here and there, under some of the piazzas, might be seen a few mule- 
 teers and oiive-cheeked girls, dancing a fandango or bolero about th& 
 
•THE llOMArJCE OF WAK. 67 
 
 door of a -wine-bouse to the sound of the guitar, the tambarine, and 
 the castanets, 
 
 " How very ditTerent is all this from the sober gi'avity which marks 
 our Scottish Sabbath day ! " thought llonald, as he glanced languidly 
 around the Plaza. Notwithstanding the mental excitement under 
 which he laboured, the chain of ideas recalled to his memory a few 
 hues of a poem he had once read, and wliich he now repeated to 
 himself :— 
 
 " O Scotland ! niucli I love thy tranquil dales , 
 But most on Sabbath eve, wiieu low the sun 
 Slants through the upland copse, 'tis my delight, 
 AVandcring and stoppini? oft to hear the sonj;: 
 Of kindred praise arise from humble roofs ; 
 Or when the simple service ends, to hear 
 The lifted latch, and mark the grey-haired man, 
 The father and the priest, walk forth alone 
 Into his garden plat or little field, 
 To commune with his God in secret prayer." 
 
 This was one of the many passages in it which were impressed upon 
 his memory, and he remembered, with peculiar bitterness of feeling, 
 that it was ^rith Alice Lisle he had first perused the pages of that 
 now forgotten poem, seated by her side in one of the green birchen 
 glades through which the Isla flowed towards the Tay. ^ 
 
 The heavy clang of a charger's hoofs broke in upon his reverie, and 
 raising his eyes, he saw an officer of the light cavalry ride furiously 
 into the Plaza, with his uniform covered with dust, and his horse and 
 accoutrements dripping with Avhite foam. Casting a rapid glanca 
 around hmi, he spurred at once beneath the balcony over which 
 Eonaldle^.ned, knowing him to be a British officer from his uniform. 
 
 He checked his horse by the curb-stone of the pavement. 
 
 "Evelyn — Lieutenant Evelyn, 13th Light Dragoons," said he, 
 introducing hmiself. " Mr. Stuart, I presume ? " 
 
 *' Yes, — Stuart, of the 92nd Eegiment," replied Honaid, bowing. 
 " I believe I have had the pleasure of seeing you before ? "' 
 
 "Ay, near La Nava, the evening we drove in Dombrouskr\i 
 advanced picquet." 
 
 " I now remember. But what word from the front ? " 
 
 "Oh! the old story,— a countermarch. Campaigning is like a 
 game at chess : we have been ordered to retire into Portugal, and the 
 second division will be in full retreat, by this time. I suppose they 
 will come down the other bank of the Guadiana." 
 
 " This movement, likely, has some relation to the recent invest- 
 ment of Ciudad Eodrigo. You will, of course, have heard of that ? " 
 
 " Our works are carried within a very short distance of theirs. It 
 is said that Marshal Marmout imagines it will hold out for several 
 weeks yet ; before which time he will give Lord Wellington battle, 
 and attempt its relief. His lordship appears to be preparing, as 
 troops from all quarters are concentrating under his command ; so 
 that, should Ciudad llodrigo not soon capitulate, we may expect a 
 battle with Marmont in a few days." 
 
 " Of course it must fall ; Marmont will never attempt its relief. 
 But will you not dismount and refresh yourself ? You appear to 
 have ridden far." 
 
 " I regret that it is impossible to dismount ; I have tarried too lon.c; 
 already. I am carrying despatches from Sir Eowland Hill to the 
 rear and I must be far beyond Alburiueri,ue before night. Mj" 
 
 F 2 
 
68 THE KOMAJ!JCE OF WAR.- 
 
 orders were to ride without dmv/ingc bridle ; but my nag is failing 
 already. Just before I left Fuenledel Maistre, an orderly drao^oon 
 brought up the mail-})ags from Lisbon ; and a Major Campbell of 
 yours, an immensely big man, but a soldier-like fellow, who insisted 
 that he had seen me in Egypt, although I never was there, gave me a 
 letter for you, that 1 might deliver it, on my route, at Merida." 
 
 "I thank you," replied Konald in a scarcely articulate voice, 
 while his fluttering heart became a prey to alternate hopes ana 
 fears. 
 
 " I trust it will contain good news for you," said the horseman, 
 unbuckling his sabre-tache. " Our letters here are like angels' visits, 
 * few and far between,' the post delivery being less regular than 
 within sight of St. Paul's. By the bye, how is that wound you 
 received the morning we marched from this ? I heard something of 
 the story, and would be glad to hear it all, had I time ; but there are 
 so many hard knocks going now, that one cares little about them. 
 Your arm is still in the slin" I see." 
 
 " I mean to discard it to-day. I am quite recovered now, and am 
 about to rejoin immediately. But the letter ? " 
 
 " / V, here it is," replied Evelyn, raising himself in his stirrups, 
 and handing the letter to Ronald, who received it by stooping over 
 the balcony, and knew at once tlie large round family seal, and the 
 handwriting of his father. 
 
 " Alice, Alice ! Evelyn, is there not another ? " he groaned aloud, 
 in the bitterness of his spirit. 
 
 "Another?" laughed the cavalry officer, who heard him but 
 imperfectly. " No, by Jupiter ; and I am sorry the one you have 
 received does not seem to be in the small running-hand of a fair lady ; 
 but it may contain what makes ample amends, you know,— a remit- 
 tance from the old gentleman, through Gordon, your paymaster, who 
 is as jolly a fellow as ever broached a pipe or a pig-skin of mne. Ah ! 
 'tis well when the old boy bleeds liberally. But now, so ho ! for the 
 road again ! I would advise you to look out sharply while here. 
 D'Erlon, the moment he becomes aware of our temporary retreat, 
 will throw forward some of his cavalry, and regain the places he has 
 lost. The low grounds by the river-side afford great advantages for 
 a concealed movement, and you run a risk of being taken prisoner- 
 the idea struck me as I entered the town a few minutes ago." 
 
 "How far is the division from this ?" asked Ronald, impatiently 
 awaiting the other's departure, that he might peruse the letter ; a 
 day's march, think you ?" 
 
 '"' Three, perhaps ; Fuente del Maistre is a long way off. Remember 
 that you mu=;t be careful what kind of guide you employ, should you 
 require one in rejoining. And now, adieu ! " 
 
 Adieu !" echoed Ronald. The other gaye his horse the spur, let 
 his reins drop, and was round the corner of the Plaza, out of sight 
 in an instant. 
 
 Feeling all that trembling eagerness and indescribable delight 
 which the arrival of a first letter from home, after a long absence, 
 infuses into the heart, Ronald tore it open, but for some minutes was 
 baffled in his attempts to read by an envious mist or film, which 
 seemed to intercept his sight and prevented him from proceeding 
 further than the date, which was upwards of a month back. The 
 ietter ran thus, and the ideas and style of the good old gentlemaa 
 were observable in every line of it :— 
 
THE EOMANCE OF "WAB. 69 
 
 " Locliisla, February 28th, 1812. 
 " My dear Boy, 
 " I received your letters dated from Lisbon and Portala^re in due 
 course, and 'cannot find words to express how overjoyed I was to 
 understand by thera that you were well, and did not feel the fatigue 
 of long marches. Ronald, my son, may God protect you ! You are 
 very dear to me indeed, — dearer even than the little ones that sleep 
 m the old kirkyard. I can scarce get on further, for the salt and hot 
 tears are filling my eyes, and it is no common emotion which makes 
 a stern old man, like me, Aveep. We are living much in the old way 
 here at the tower, with the exception that your absence has made a 
 sad blank in the little establishment. My dear boy, I am very lonely 
 now, and it is grievous when a man feels himself so in his old age. 
 Your gentle mother, and her four little boys, are with the angels in 
 heaven ; the green grass covers their sunny ringlets, and you alone 
 were spared me, but only to be exposed to the dangers of a soldier's 
 life, — dangers which make my heart shrink within me for your 
 safety. 
 
 " How very quiet is all around me at the moment I am writing ! 
 The bright evening sun is streaming through the mullions of the old 
 hall window on the hearth, where you used to play when a little 
 child, and your two old companions, Carril and Odin, are stretched 
 upon the rug; they often whine, and look sadly in my face, or at 
 your bonnet and gun in the corner, as if they still missed you. The 
 noble hounds ! I believe that although six months have elapsed 
 since you were here, they have not forgotten you. The wind scarcely 
 stirs the thickets about the tower, and all is very calm and siiy, all 
 save the beating of my own anxious heart, and its pulsations are 
 audible. 
 
 " All our friends and dependents here desire to he remembered to 
 you and to Evan Iverach; and I am assured danger ^rill never visit 
 you, if the prayers of brave and honest hearts can avert it ; for the 
 people at the claclian, and in all the glen, pray for you nightly and 
 daily, particularly old Donald. He does not pipe about so much as 
 he used to do, but pays more attention than ever he did to the 
 whiskey kegs in Janet's pantry. Poor man! I forgive his melan- 
 choly ; like me, he mourns the absence of an only son. 
 
 " Corrie-oich and I have quarrelled again, about a fight which took 
 place at the last fair, between his herdsman and AlpinOig. I would 
 fain harry the lair of the old fox, and give his turreted house to the 
 liames, as my father did in 1746. I would teach his fellows to beware 
 how they spoke to a servant or follower of mine. 
 
 " I am likely to have a row Avith Inchavon also. He has trespassed 
 more than once on our marches in his shooting excursions, in which 
 he is always accompanied now by the Earl of Hyndford, who, it is 
 said, is to be married to Miss Lisle, an old flame of yours, whom I 
 trust you have forgotten by this time, as she has undoubtedly done you. 
 
 " Inchavon's son has received a pair of colours in your regiment, 
 and has left Perthshire to join ; you \n\\, of course, keep him at a 
 due distance, and, as you value my paternal love, make neither a 
 friend nor companion of him. Porget not the Avords your gallant 
 old grandfather iised, after cutting down Colonel Lisle at Palkirk : — 
 • Never trust a Lisle of Inchavon, until your blade is through hi^ 
 body' 
 
70 THE BOMAITCE OF WAB. 
 
 "Sir Allan has revived his old claim to the lands and vacant 
 lieerage of Lyslc. and Ilyndibi'd, who is one of our represcutativo 
 jxjers, is using all his interest for him in the upper house. Let him 
 iish for any rank he pleases ; our blood, my boy, is nobler than Ms 
 own. We have been Stuarts of Lochisla since the days of our royal 
 ancestor, llobert the Second, and I seek no other title. 
 
 " By tne bye, that scoundrel iEneas Macquirk, the W.S. in Edin- 
 burgh, some time ago procured my name, as cautioner for a very 
 large sum, to a deed connected with some cursed insurance business, 
 of which I knew nothing. I fear the fellow is tottering in his 
 circumstances ; and should he fail, I will be utterly ruined, and the 
 old tower, which has often defied an armed host, will, perhaps, be 
 surrendered to some despicable Lowland creditor. To a Highlander, 
 who knows nothing of legal chicanery, what a curse those harpies of 
 the law are ! Remember me to John Cameron, of Tassifern, your 
 colonel ; he is a brave and good officer, and a true Highland gentle- 
 man. Be attentive to your duties, and never shrink from 
 
 But I need not say that ; I knoM"- that you will do what man dare 
 do, and will never disgrace the house you si)ring from, or the gallant 
 regiment to which you belong. Good bye to you, my boy ! let me 
 hear from you soon and often ; and that He whose presence is every- 
 where, may ever bless and protect you, Avill be always the earnest 
 prayer of your desolate old father, " Ian Stuaet." 
 
 CH.APTEE XIL 
 
 THE COXDE. 
 
 So much was Eonald engrossed in the perusal of this letter, which 
 so fully displays the eccentric manners of his father, that it was not 
 until he had withdra^A^l his eyes from its pages that he became aware 
 of the presence of Catalina, who stood by his side, veiled and robed 
 in her velvet mantilla for church. 
 
 " You have received a letter from your home ? I trust^ — I hope — 
 there is nothing in it to cause you sorrow. Wiry do you sigh so very 
 sadly ?" said she, in a tone of thrilling tenderness. 
 
 " Indeed I cannot say that its contents are calculated to instil any 
 other sentiments than sorrow," replied Honald, depositing it in his 
 breast ; " and I fear, Catalina, that the last day I shall pass with — 
 with you, will be a very unhappy one." 
 
 " The last day ! " she repeated sorrowfully. " And are you still 
 resolved on going so soon ?" 
 
 " My arm, you perceive, is perfectly well now," replied the officer, 
 tossing away the sling in which it hung ; " and it is indispensa,ble 
 if I would save my honour from disagreeable surmises, that I rejoin 
 my regiment. Dearest Catalina ! a hundred other circumstances, 
 rf which you are ignorant, compel me to leave you, — to leave you 
 perchance for ever." AMiile he spoke, a passionate flush gathered on 
 Jiis cheek, and passing his arm around the waist of the yielding girl, he 
 drew her gently towards him ; yet even the feeling of delight which he 
 experienced at that moment, mingled with a sensation of anger at 
 the faithlessness of Alice Lisle. To revenge himself, he pressed his 
 lins a second time to the soft and burning cheek of the beautiful 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 71 
 
 Spaniard, and felt his blood fly like lightning through his veins, 
 while he watched the long lashes which modestly shaded the 
 brilliance of her eyes, and read the smile of pleasure and inex- 
 pressible sweetness that played around her finely-formed mouth. 
 
 A step was heard on the staircase. 
 
 " Santa Maria ! Senor mio, cl senor Oolornador ; ray uncle the 
 prior ! " she whispered, startin g from Eonald's encircling arm. " Oh, 
 'tis only my gossiping cousin," she added with a smile, as Inesella do 
 Truxilio swept into the apartment, vnth. a long lace veil reaching 
 from her stately head nearly to her feet, enveloping her tall and 
 dashing figure. 
 
 " Pho ! I fear I have interrupted some very gallani- and tender 
 scene. How very unlucky ! Catalina, mi qneredo, how you blush ! 
 Your veil and long glossy ringlets are all sadly disordered. Indeed, 
 senor, you have quite turned the poor girl's head, and I fear we shall 
 have some unhappy brawl, should my brother the Conde de Truxilio 
 hear of it. He is one of Catalina's most passionate admirers, and we 
 expect him here shortly." 
 
 " Inesella, I thought you were my uncle the prior," faltered Cata- 
 lina, blushing mth confusion. 
 
 " Our uncle, the padre ? " cried the gay girl with a loud laugh. 
 " O madre de Bios ! do my little feet, which our citizens of Merida 
 admire so much, make so great a noise as your old gobernador's ? 
 Besides, he never leaves his room. Mi queredo, you compliment me ! 
 I?ut you must remember that I am considered the best Avaltzer in 
 Z^Iadrid, and the cavaliers there pretend to be very excellent judges. 
 My poor cousin, you are very much abashed ; allow me to arrange 
 your curls. But you should not be flirting here with a young officiale 
 instead of being at mass, and el Oohernador should give you a sermon 
 for doing so. But the bells have ceased to toll, and Ave shall be late ; 
 'tis fully five minutes' walk from here to the porch of San Juan's 
 church. So let us be gone at once, and use our joint endeavours to 
 make you, senor, a convert to the true faith." 
 
 llonald replied only by an unmeaning smile ; and taking his 
 sword and bonnet, prepared to accompany the young ladies. They 
 were followed by Evan Iverach and Pedro Gomez, carrying camp- 
 stools for their accommodation, the church (as usual in Spain) not 
 being fitted up with pews ; so that all who do not provide themselves 
 with seats, are obhged to remain either on their feet or on their 
 knees. 
 
 An indescribable emotion of deep religious veneration, inspiration 
 almost of holy awe, filled the agitated mind of the young Highlander 
 with sensations which he had never before experienced, when, for 
 the first time in his life, he found himself beneath the groined roof 
 and gigantic arches of the Eoman Catholic cathedral, while all its 
 thousand hollow echoes were replying to the notes of the sublime 
 organ, the bold trumpet tones of which shook the very pavement and 
 grave-stones beneath his feet. The appearance of the church, being 
 so very different from what he had ever beheld before, made also a 
 deep impression on his mind : the tall traceried windows, filled Avith 
 gorgeously-stained glass, — the strong variations of light and shadow 
 which they caused, — the long lines of shafted columns, and the 
 domed roof which sprung from their foliaged capitals, — the perfumes 
 of the lavender-flowers which, arising from smoking censers, filled 
 the air, — the dark and gloomy altar-piece, Anth the altar itself bear- 
 
72 XnE r.OM^ANCE OF "WAE. 
 
 ing a gi.^aiitio cracilix of irilt-work and enormous candlesticks oi 
 silver, the pale lights t\vinklin<j; around it, — the floating drapery of 
 the olliciating priests, — the sonorous prayers uttered in an unknoAMi 
 language, and the fervent responses of the swarthy congregation, 
 together with the '" pealing organ " and the melodious song of the 
 young choristers, — all these combined, entranced and elevated the 
 enthusiastic soul of the young Highlander, raising it I'rom the gross- 
 ness and bitterness of earth almost, as it were, to heaven, so §rand 
 and impressive, in form and ceremony, is the religious service of 
 the Church of Rome, as it exists on the Continent in all its ancient 
 glory. 
 
 Poor Evan, who had never heard any other religious music than 
 the humble Presb>i;erian psalm in Locliisla kirk, was for some time 
 struck with a feeling of such awe that he scarcely dared to lift his 
 eyes, lest he should encounter the formidable gaze of some spirit or 
 divinity standing on the altar ; and the Avonderful sound of the music 
 caused his bold heart to shrink, although he could have heard, without 
 his courage failing, the roar of a thousand pieces of cannon. How^- 
 ever, ^vhen the music ceased, and he had recovered his usual self- 
 possession, the native prejudices and inherent sourness of the true 
 JPresbyterian assumed its ascendancy on his mind. 
 
 "O, sir, is this no an unco kirk?" he whispered from behind, 
 " Gude guide us ! never will I trust myself w itbin the yett o' ane 
 raair. Just look, sir, at that puir papist Pedro, how he yammers, and 
 counts his string o' yellow beads ower and ower again. O'd, sir, this 
 dings a' ! And look at the pictures, the images, and a' that : it's 
 just a temptin' o' Providence to trust oursels inside o' this nest of 
 papistry, idolatry, and deevildom. Hech me, sir, what would the 
 auld men and caillochs in the clachan o' Lochisla think or say if 
 they kenned Ave were here ? And what would our decent body o' a 
 minister, auld maister Mucklewhame, think of that chield's awfu' 
 blatter o' lang neb bit words ?" 
 
 Ronald had often motioned him to be silent, and he now ceased as 
 the sub-prior, a black-browed priest of the order of St. Francis of 
 Assisi, ascended barefooted the marble steps which led to the lofty- 
 pulpit. He Avas attired in the garb of his order, a grey goAvn and a 
 cowl of Avoollen stutt", girt about his middle Avitli a knotted cord of 
 discipline. His chaplet hung at his girdle ; and his coAAi, falling over 
 his neck, displayed his swarthy features, coal-black hair, and shaven 
 scalp. At the same time, Ronald encountered the smiling glances 
 which the keen bright eyes of the ladies bestowed on him, as they 
 watched from time to time the impression made upon him by the 
 solemnity of their cliurch service. The sermon of the Franciscan 
 was filled more Avitli politics, and invectiA'es against the French and 
 their emperor, than religious matters, dAvelling emphatically on the 
 singular addition made by the priests to the Spanish Catechism at 
 that time, " to love all mankind, excepting Frenchmen, of whom it> 
 n'as their duty to kill as many as possible." 
 
 "Well, EA-an, Avhat think you of the discourse r" said Ronald, in 
 the loAv voice in Avhich the groups clustered round the columns gene- 
 rally conversed. " I dare say the Spanish sounds very singular to 
 your ear." 
 
 "Ay, su', it puts me in mind o' an auld saying o' my faither the 
 piper. * A soo may AAiiussle, but its mouth is no made for't.' O'd, 
 sir, I Avadna gie the bonnic wee kii-k at Locliisla, wi' its grassy grave- 
 
THE EOMA^X'E OF WAK, 73 
 
 yard, Avhar v:c used to play on the Sabbath morninL^'s, for a' the kirks 
 in Spain, forbye— " 
 
 " Hvisn ! " At that moment the priest had raised his voice, whilp 
 denouncing a curse upon aU heretics ; and his keen expressive eye 
 I'ell, perhaps unconsciously, on lionald, whose cheek reddened with 
 momentary anger. 
 
 Evan's reply, and his native Scottish accent, caused E-onald to 
 indulge in the same train of ideas. He acknowledged in his own 
 heart, that notwithstanding the gorgeous display before him, he would 
 prefer the humble and earnest, the simple and unassuming service in 
 the old village kirk at home, — the quiet sermon of the white-haired 
 minister, and the slowly-sung ])salm, raised with all the true fervour, 
 the holy and sober feeling which animate a Scotch congregation, and 
 recall the soul-stirring emotions which inspired those who bled at 
 Bothwell, at Pentland, and Drumclog. He thought of Alice, too ; 
 and eagerly did he long for the arrival of her brother Louis, that the 
 cause of her heartless desertion might be explained. 
 
 The cry of " Viva la Religion y Espana ! Miiera Buonaparte !" 
 from the preacher, echoed by the deep tone of a thousand Spanish 
 tongues, awoke him from his reverie, and he took prisoner within his 
 own the white hand of Catalina, who was playing witn the silk tassel 5 
 of his sash, unconscious of what she was doing. 
 
 " Senor," said she, blushing, and 'withdrawing it, " you seem very 
 melancholy." 
 
 '•' i have, indeed, much reason to be so. How can I appear other- 
 wise, when the hours we shall spend together are so few ? " But she 
 may forget me as soon as Alice has done, thought he, and his heart 
 sAvelled at the idea. The donna made no immediate reply, ana 
 llonald was surprised to perceive her colour change from white to 
 the deepest crimson, and then become deadly pale again, while her 
 dark eyes flashed with peculiar brilliancy and light. 
 
 " Senor, the original of this is probably the cause of your sadness," 
 she said, in a tremulous voice, while she held up her rival's miniature, 
 which had fallen from the lapelle of Ronald's uniform, and hung at 
 the full extent of the chain. " She is very beautiful. If this is her 
 miniature, she must be a queen among women ; and you love her 
 very much, doubtless," she added, in a cold and sorrowful tone, which 
 ?unk deeply into the heart of Konald, as he hastily concealed the 
 Dbject of her emotion. 
 
 " May I ask who she is, senor ?" 
 
 " A very dear friend, or rather one who was such." 
 
 '■' She is dead, then : or perhaps it is a portrait of a sister ?" 
 
 '■ I never had one," replied the young man, colouring Avith confu- 
 sion, while he taxed his imagination to find a reply in vain. Happily 
 for him, he was relieved from his dilemma by an exclamation from- 
 Donna Inesella, who had hitherto sat silent, and had, or aHected to 
 have, been gazing intently at the preacher. 
 
 ■' Holy Virgin ! " she earnestly -whispered. " See, Catalina, yonder 
 is my brother the conde, leaning against the third column from 
 Pizarro's monument," 
 
 "Here at church, — the Conde de Truxillo here?" replied her 
 cousin, becoming pale and agitated. 
 
 ■" AVould to Heaven and San Juan that Balthazzar ^vas anywhere 
 else than here at this moment ! Somewhat disagn:eeable will cer- 
 tainly come of it. Oh, senor, I tremble for you." 
 
74 THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 " For me, Donna Inesella ! Sure you mean not •what you say. I 
 liave a hand to protect myself with, and care not a straw for any 
 condd or cavaUcr in Spain.'- 
 
 '* True, senor. I meant not to offend, but my brother Balthazzar 
 is po fiery. Ah ! he sees us now." 
 
 ^ lionald looked in the direction pointed out, and saw a handsome 
 Spanish oflicer in a dashing staff-uniform, wearing massive epaulets 
 and aigulets of silver, and a score of military orders of knighthood, 
 stars, badges, ribands, medals, and crosses on his breast, leaning list- 
 lessly against a pillar of the church, holding in one hand his cocked- 
 hat, Avhich was adorned with a large plume of red and yellow feathers, 
 while the other rested on the hilt of a very long and straight Toledo. 
 TVith a careless sort of glance, he cast his eyes along the aisle, as if 
 he had been watching them ever since their first entrance ; but on 
 perceiving himself observed, he came hastily towards them. A frown 
 lor a moment crossed his fine forehead ; but the next a soft smile 
 replaced it, and he stroked the coal-black moustache which curled on 
 liis upper lip, forming a contrast in hue with his remarkably whit« 
 teeth below. 
 
 To his sister and cousin he paid his compliments in a graceful and 
 polite, yet distant manner. 
 
 " Jklthazzar, this is the British officer of whom I told you in my 
 last letter," whispered luesella, introducing Ronald ; " the same who 
 saved Alvaro de Villa Franca's life when " 
 
 " I have heard all the story, so spare me a repetition of it," replied 
 lie, waving his hand and coldly bo\Aing to llonald, at whose presence 
 he felt a displeasure which, certes, he took very little pains to conceal. 
 
 " But tell me, Balthazzar, what has brought you here so unex- 
 pectedly ? and why do you fro^vn in so unbecoming a manner ?" 
 
 " Faith, Inesella ! you are exceedingly nnpolite; but to be angry 
 vdth you is useless. I am carrying despatches from my colonel, the 
 Conde Penne Yillamur, to Don Carlos d' Espana, and I must leave 
 IMerida in a few hours, or less. But how is it that my fair cousin 
 Catahna has not one smile of welcome to bestow on me, though six 
 months have elapsed since I was last at Merida?" 
 
 " Indeed, Balthazzar, 1 am most happy to see you ; but el senor 
 padre Avould little like my laughing in churcli, you know." 
 
 "El senor 'padre ? pho ! But where is that most prudent of 
 Ijrothers Don Alvaro now ? I heard that he had run his captain 
 through the body, and so got command of his troop." 
 
 " 'Twas a base falsehood circulated by old Don Salvador, whose 
 guei'illas were supposed to have done the deed ; but Alvaro has joined 
 the Spanish army under Murillo, cousin conde." 
 
 '*He is a thoughtless brother, truly," replied the conde, glancing 
 nt Eonald, " to go off thus, leaving you under the care of my uncle 
 the prior, who is nearly as useless now as a piece of spiked ordnance. 
 
 A young lady without guidance But you look as if about to speak, 
 
 senor." 
 
 " Don Salvador de Zagala," observed Ronald, whom the conde had 
 never addressed until now, " is also Anth IVIurillo ; and there may bo 
 some dangerous brawl between Alvaro and him, should they meet." 
 
 "O Bios mio ! Santa Maria forbid !" exclaimed the young ladies 
 together. 
 
 ' It would l)e more prudent in Alvaro, senor, to allow the guerilla 
 cnief to go in peace, and without molestation. He suffered the 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAK. 75 
 
 ^Tong, and was in the right to resent it. My cousm AlvarOj although 
 an accomplished soldier, is no match for old Salvador, who in the use 
 of the sword and pistol has scarcely his equal in Spain ; besideSj 
 Murillo is a fine old follow, and he takes most summary vengeance 
 upon any noble cavalier who seeks the free privilege of the duello in 
 the camp. I presume, senor, you are at Merida on some duty ? I 
 believe you will find it very agreeable, — much more so than hard 
 fighting and long marches." 
 
 " No, conde ; 1 have been here for the recovery of a wound, received 
 from a Spanish hand in a manner at once base and dishonourable," 
 replied Ronald, his brows contracting at the sarcastic tone used by 
 the Spanish officer ; " a wound in the ann which is barely healed, 
 and it is scarcely an hour since I relinquished the scarf in which 
 it hvmg." 
 
 " Then, senor, I think that the sooner you rejoin your brave regi- 
 ment, the better for your fair fame. A gallant soldado who values 
 his honour would scarcely permit a scratch to detain him from the 
 field." 
 
 *' A scratch ! How now, conde ! what am I to understand by this 
 premeditated rudeness ?" said Eonald, furiously and aloud, his cheek 
 flushing, and his eye sparkling with an^er. " "What mean you, senor ? " 
 
 " Merely what I have said, senor officiale," replied Don Balthazzar. 
 in the same provoking tone of sarcastic coldness. " But be pleasea 
 to moderate your transports for another and more fitting time. It 
 would ill become a noble ca\'alier, like me, to brawl at church or in 
 the presence of ladies. But you shall hear from me again, senor ;" 
 and bestowing a vindictive glance at Ronald, and a cold bow on his 
 cousin and sister, he pressed through the crowd and left the church. 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! Inesolla, O Dies ! I dreaded that this would come 
 to pass the moment I saw Balthazzar here," whispered Catalina, in 
 gi'eat agitation. " He is so fierce and untractaljle, that he never visits 
 Merida without fighting a duel with some one. But you, senor mio, 
 surely you will not lay to heart what he has said to you ?" 
 
 '■ Calm yourself, Catalina. I know not what to think ; but cer- 
 tainly his behaviour to me is very unaccountable. Have no appre- 
 hension on my account ; as I said before, I care not for any cavalier 
 in Spain, and Heaven knows there are plenty of them." 
 
 " Pho ! Catalina," said her thoughtless cousin ; " heed not Bal- 
 thazzar's angry looks, though, indeed, he can bo fierce enough when 
 ho pleases. He will probably depart immediately with his despatches : 
 be said he had but a short time to tarry." 
 
 " Pray Heaven that may be so ! " 
 
 " And then Don Ronald and he will perhaps never meet again." 
 
 " Let us leave the church. O Inesella ! how my heart flutters ! " 
 ^ " Indeed, my sweet cousin, your eyes have been the cause of more 
 than one duel already, as the notches on Balthazzar's sword can 
 t.3.stify ; and you have great reason to feel sorrow and disquiet." 
 
 " I hear the hoofs of a horse ; 'tis galloping through the Plaza." 
 
 " It must be his, Catalina ; thanks to our Lady of the Rock, he is 
 gone ! They may meet no more." 
 
 The ladies were, however, both mistaken. Scarcely had Ronald 
 escorted them home, belbre Evan placed in his hand a note, 
 addressed to " El Noble Caballero, Don Ronaldo Stuart, 92nd Regi- 
 miento, Calle de Guadiana." 
 
 In spite of the many vexations which annoyed him, Ronald well 
 
7G THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 nigli laughed on seeing this strange and imperfect address. " This is 
 some trick of Alistor's/' thought he, as he tore open the billet, the 
 contents of which undeceived him. 
 
 Senor. 
 
 " When the clock of the Casa del Ayuntamiento strikes the 
 hour of two, I shall ho awaiting you in the thicket behind the ruins 
 of the castle of Merida. You will not fail to come well armed. 
 
 "Balthazzak de Teuxillo." 
 
 Anger and sun^rise were Ilonald's first emotions on perusing this 
 unlooked-for challenge, which he considered an additional aggression ; 
 and having already been grossly insulted, he deeply regretted that he 
 had not " stolen a march " on the conde, by sending him the hostile 
 message first. 
 
 " The devil ! " muttered he ; " this Avill be a pretty winding-up of 
 matters, to be shot by this vindictive Spaniard ! But, everything 
 considered, my hfe is scarcely worth having : certes, a challenge could 
 not have come at a better time, when my heart is filled with mis- 
 anthropy, gall, and bitterness, and my feelings deadened by the news 
 I have received within these twenty-four hours. Perhaps Alice may 
 weep when she reads of my death in the Gazette, — so and so to be 
 ensign, vice Stuart, deceased. Sorrow or death — come what may, my 
 heart is strung for it all." A sour smile crossed his features, and he 
 glanced at the clock of the corporation-house; it wanted but a 
 quarter of two. 
 
 " I shall be late," said he, buckling on his sword. " "VMiat shall 1 
 do in this cursed dilemma ? I have neither a friend to accompany 
 me, nor pistols to use : and the conde may object to so formidable a 
 weapon as the broad-sword. AVould to God Macdonald, Chisholm, 
 or any of ours, were here ! Evan," said he, turning to his servant, 
 who had watched his excitement, and heard his half-muttered 
 speeches mth considerable concern and surprise. " Evan ! " 
 
 " O'd, sir, ye needna speak sae loud : I'm just behint ye. What's 
 yer wull, sir ? " 
 
 " I have received a challenge to fight that Spanish officer you saw 
 at i;hurch, and you must accompany me a^s second. It mil be 
 prudent to come armed, as some of these Spaniards are treacherous 
 hounds, and the conde may be no better than his neighbours. Get 
 your musket and accoutrements, and follow me to the ruinous 
 castle at the end of the toAvn ; but do not alarm the young ladies, who 
 I see are walking in the garden below." 
 
 " A duel ! to fecht a duel ? Gude guide us, sir, that's unco sud- 
 den," replied Evan, turning pale Avith concern. " And are ye really 
 gaun ? " 
 
 " Going, Iveraoh ! can you ask me such a question ? " 
 
 '■ And your sair arm scarcely weel yet ! — it will never do. O'd, 
 sir, let me gang in your place, and my name's no Evan Iverach if 1 
 dinna gie that saucy-looking chield his kail through the reek." 
 
 '" Obey me instantly, — the time is nearly up ; follow me at once, 
 without further trifling. I should regret to speak harshly, Iverach^ 
 as this, perhaps, is the last day "we may ever spend together. I have 
 a great regard for you, Evan ; we have been friends since we were 
 little children, and I always forget the distance which birth and tho 
 rules of the service place between us in consequence." 
 
 " sir ! O'd sir—" 
 
TIIK EOMANCE OF WAR. 77 
 
 " Should I fall," said Ivonald, speaking in a rapid thou^di faltering 
 tone, " should I fall, you will find some papers and other matters in 
 my baggage, which I wish transmitted home to Lochisla; and 
 these I desire you will deliver either to Major Campbell or JMr. 
 Macdonald." 
 
 " Sir, sir — O Maister Ronald ; my very heart is bursting to hear 
 ye rin on in that gait," replied Evan, beginning to shed tears, whicL 
 he strove in vain to conceal. " I would — I would wi' pleasure gang 
 in your place, face this chield mysel, and gie him what he deserves. 
 Dinna think the waur o' me, sir, because I greet like a bairn. I 
 would face hand to hand ony mortal man without quailing; but my 
 spirit flees clean awa' when danger draws nigh you." 
 
 " Stay, Evan, my dear old playfellow ; hold, for Heaven's sake. 
 You Avill quite unman me. I am indeed deeply sensible of the regard 
 you bear me, and have not forgotten the kind act you performed in 
 our wretched bivouac at La Nava. But dry your tears ; your fathers 
 did not weep Avlien they followed mine to battle." _ 
 
 "Ye are richt sir," replied Evan, recovering his self-possession as 
 his pride was roused ; " but my faither wadna be ashamed to yammer 
 himsel, if he kenned that danger was nigh you. May be at this hour 
 they ken it at Lochisla; auld Janet sees things farther off than ither 
 folk. _ Ye'll no forget she has the gift o' the second-sicht." 
 
 " Listen ! If anything should happen to me, you ^^ill find attached 
 to this chain a miniature of INIiss Lisle, — Miss Lisle, of Inchavon," 
 continued his master in a tremulous voice. " Tell Mr. Macdonald it 
 is my particular desire that it be restored to her, or her brother 
 Louis, who will shortly be with the regiment. I trust in Heaven 
 you ^^'ill see this done. And for my father — my poor father ! you 
 
 will find in my largest trunk But I will tell you the rest by the 
 
 way : it is useless addressing you while you are in this agitated statQ 
 Keep up your heart, Evan, like a man and a Highlander!" 
 
 " Sir, if ye should fa'," replied Evan, in a tone of assumed firmness, 
 " a' that ye tell me most religiously will I obey, — ay, obey as I would 
 the commands o' a voice frae Heaven itself, — that is, if I can survive 
 you, which I dinna think possible. O lioo could I ever face the puir 
 jmld laird at bame, and tell o' what bad come ower ye in this unco 
 place ? " The honest fellow pressed his master's hands between his 
 own, while he endeavoured to subdue his sorrow and dread. 
 
 " But for what do I greet, sir?" said he, placing his regimental 
 bonnet jauntily on one side of his head. "A Scotchman is as gude 
 TVS a Spaniard, and better, may be. Ye were aye a deadly shot on 
 the muirs, and may settle this chield, as ye have dune mony a bonnie 
 fallow-deer, by an ounce o' lead in the wame." 
 
 At that moment the bell of the Casa del Ayuntamiento tolled the 
 hour of two. 
 
 " Time is up, by heavens ! " exclaimed Eonald passionately ; " and 
 this cursed count has obtained a triumph over me : he will be first oa 
 the ground!" He cast a hasty glance at the graceful figure o* 
 Catalina, as she leant on the margin of the fountain conversing with 
 Donna Inesella. Evan hastily examined the locl^ of his musket, and 
 they sallied forth in silci.cc. 
 
78 THE BOMAyCE OJ WAE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIIT. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 Passing rapidly through the Plaza, and down the great street 
 which leads towards the Guadiana, they ascended the eminence on 
 the outside of the city, where the remains of the mouldering fortress 
 stand. It was a solitary spot, surrounded by thickets of bushes and 
 tall weeping willows. There was little chance of an interruption in 
 such a place, especially at an hour when the streets were almost 
 deserted, while the lazy Spaniards were enjoying their siesta. "Within 
 one of the square courts, round which rose the mossy fragments of 
 shattered towers, they found the Conde de Truxillo holding his 
 charger by the bridle, and conversing with the Spanish doctor, 
 Mendizabal, whose case of instruments was displayed on a large mass 
 d fallen masonry near. 
 
 The conde seemed to be impatiently awaiting Eonald's appearance. 
 
 "Senor!"' said he haughtily, "you have been in no huri'y to 
 attend my summons. I beheve I mentioned in the church of San 
 Juan that I was hastening vdth. despatches to Don Carlos d'i.spana, 
 and consequently had no time to lose in Merida." 
 
 " I am but a few minutes beyond the appointed time, conde ; and 
 you must be aware that the notice I received was very sudden." 
 
 " As sudden as unwelcome, perhaps." 
 
 " Senor ! your observations are contemptible and your blood alone 
 can wipe out your repeated insolence," was Eonald's fierce reply. 
 " Conde, your life only can atone for such conduct ; and by the 
 heavens above, we part not this day until the sword is dyed with the 
 blood of one or both of us." 
 
 " This is mighty gay ! Tour language promises bold deeds, senor," 
 replied the other ironically. 
 
 " Por what have I received this hostile message from you, conde f 
 from you, whom I have never wronged ?" 
 
 "When I acquaint you, senor," replied the Spaniard, his olive 
 cheek glo'^dng for an instant ; " when I acquaint you that Catalina 
 de Villa Franca is my betrothed wife, I have, perhaps, sufhciently 
 answered that question." 
 
 " Donna Catalina is no more to me than any other lady in Spain," 
 said Konald, colouring in turn, for he knew the assertion to be 
 false. 
 
 " Enough ! " replied the conde, fiercely. " I did not come here to 
 chatter, senor, — my time is too short for that. You have brought 
 pistols, of course ? " 
 
 " I have no weapon but my sword ; and I am perfect master of it." 
 
 " "VVe will prove that in good time. I, however, am better pro- 
 vided." He took from his holsters a very handsome pair of long 
 horse-pistols. "Choose one, senor: and here are ball-cartridges 
 enough to last us till sunset, which you are scarcely like to see, if my 
 hand is as steady as it usually is." 
 
 Ronald rephed only by a scornful smile, and they proceeded each 
 to load. 
 
 " Now then," said Truxillo, " we ore all ready, I suppose. I will 
 retire to the ruinous wall, and you will please to stand where you are. 
 
THE EGiliJNCE OF WAE. V^ 
 
 'Tis a very convenient distance. ]3ut what moan you by bringing an 
 armed soldier Avitli you here?" he exclaimed, his attention being 
 attracted to Evan by the latter, in the excitement of the moment, 
 loosening his bayonet in the sheath. 
 
 " He is a private soldier of my own regiment. I had no other 
 friend in I\Ierida to accompany me." 
 
 " i^'riend ? A brave soldier requires none to assist him in defence 
 of his honour. You must know, senor, that a Spanish cavalier, in 
 an affair of this sort, seeks no other ally than a sharp blade and iure 
 eye: however, desire your fellow to retire, that there may be no 
 treachery, We draw lots for the first shot, I presume ? " 
 
 " Agreed, conde," answered lionald, whoso Highland blood was all 
 on fire, and whose anger had been gradually increasing at the 
 cavalier's insolent demeanour and assumed tone of superiority, until 
 he longed, with a fierce eagerness, to chastise him, by the infliction 
 of some severe bodily injury, — if not totally to deprive him of life. 
 Lots were dra^vn by Doctor Mendizabal, and thejirsi shot fell to the 
 conde. An expression of triumphant malice glittered in his large 
 dark eyes ; he smiled sourly, showing his white teeth, and retreated 
 close to the ruinous wall, where he planted himself about sixteen 
 paces off, and examined with the most scrupulous accuracy the flint, 
 priming, and muzzle of his pistol. 
 
 With the other in his right hand, Eonald stood erect, awaiting the 
 conde's fire. 
 
 I must o^vn, that when he heard the elide of the lock, his heart for 
 a moment failed him at the prospect of so sudden a death, and the fear 
 of falling unrevenged : it was the feeling of a moment only, — the next 
 he was all stern eagerness to be fired at, and to fire in his turn, 
 should he survive. With clasped hands and starting eyes Evan 
 watched the heart-stirring affair, stoutly resolving, should his master 
 fall, to avenge him by di'iving his bayonet through the heart of Don 
 Balthazzar. 
 
 " Cuidado, senor o^ficiale" cried the conde, triumphantly ; " Don 
 Alvaro's imprudence is likely to cost you dear. By Our Lady of tlio 
 Eock, your life is forfeited. I am the most deadly shot in all Castile ; 
 but yet I would spare you on one condition, — that you swear by a 
 soldier's sacred word of honour, never again to come into the presence 
 of Donna Catalina." 
 
 "Wliat right .have you to dictate terms so degrading? Never, 
 proud Spaniard, while I live will I make such a promise.'' 
 
 " Then die ! " cried the other, furiously. He raised his pistol : his 
 eye glanced over the sight for a second, — he fired, and the surround- 
 ing ruins rang with the sharp report. Eonalds's pulses beat more 
 freely as the hissing shot whistled through his Highland bonnet, 
 sending one of the long black feathers which adorned it floating away 
 on the evening breeze. 
 
 " Praise be to the Jjord in Heaven ! yo have escaped," said Evan, 
 fervently. " But it's your turn now, sir : level low, and if the muzzle 
 rises, you'll be sure to wing him like ony muir-cock ; and mony a 
 gude thousand we've bagged thegither in Strathonan, and mony mair 
 we'll bag gin we get ower this awfu' adventure." 
 
 " Dios y Demonios ! some demon of bell ha.-; turned aside my hand. 
 I have shot at a score, and never yet swerved in my aim," cried the 
 conde, in a hoarse tone of anger and surprise, when as the smoko 
 cleared off he behold his antagonist still standing erect before him. 
 
\m THE llOMAXCE or V.'All. 
 
 "No, by Santiago! I never missed befoie. You have stood rcy 
 discharge bravely, senor <;avali('r ; l)ut my couram' is not less than 
 your own. Fire !" he cried, laying his hand ujjon his heart. 
 
 " Noo, ^laister llonald. — noo, sir ! O, be calm ; may be ye'll never 
 liae sic anither chance. This chield looks unco saucy; but mind ye 
 the auld proverb, ' lUca ctick craws crouse on its ain middenstead.' 
 It's most awfu' wark this I'or a Sabbath evening ; but oh, sir ! level 
 low ; mark the buckle of liis waist-belt, and if the piece throws high, 
 like the it her, the l)raw dies at his button-holes stand a bad chance. 
 Evan spoke in an anxious and hurried tone, while he eyed the conde 
 with no slight feeling of hatred and animosity. Ronald levelled his 
 iiistol at tiic tall and finely-formed figure of his brave opponent, 
 who surveyed him steadily, without a muscle of his noble features 
 changing. 
 
 " I can never thus coldly shoot so fine a fellow," thought the gene- 
 rous Highlander, and tired his weapon in the air. An exclamation of 
 •-'orrow from Evan, and another of angry surprise from the Spaniard, 
 followed the report. 
 
 " Santos Saniissimos ! what mean you by this ? Am I unworthy 
 of being fired at ? You have most grossly insulted me by this action, 
 senor ; and you ought to have considered the very great honour I did 
 you in becoming personally your antagonist. " 
 
 "How! Don Balthazzar ; honour?" 
 
 " Certainly. Save mj self, perhaps, no cavalier of noble lineage, or 
 a long-transmitted name, would have condescended to contend thus 
 openly in arms with a stranger, whose birth and blood are both 
 obscure. No, senor ! a dagger-thrust from a dark corner would have 
 ,put an end to our rivalry. But think not to escape ; for, by our 
 Lady of the Eock in Leon, we part not this day until the sod smokes 
 mth the blood of one or other of us, — so defend yourself!" He 
 unsheathed his long cavalry sword, and rushed so suddenly upon 
 Honald, that the latter had barely time to draw and parry Ids im- 
 petuous onset. So fierce was his stroke, that the arm of the High- 
 lander tingled to the very shoulder when their keen blades clashed 
 together ; and so much Avas he infuriated at this unlooked-for assault, 
 that for some moments he struck blindly and at random, whirling his 
 heavy claymore round his head like a willow wand, and having many 
 narrow escapes from the sharp-pointed blade of the Spaniard, who 
 retained his temper and presence of mind admirably. Ronald soon 
 found the necessity of being cool likewise, and using art as Avell as 
 courage. In the fashion of the Highland swordsman, he placed 
 forward his right foot with a long stride, presenting it as a tempting 
 object for a blow, while he narrowly watched the eye of his adversary, 
 who instantly dealt a sweeping stroke at the defenceless limb, which 
 the young Gael withdrew with the rapidity of lightning, bestowing 
 at the same time a blow on the conde, which broke the shell of his 
 Toledo and wounded his right hand severely. He dropped his 
 shattered weapon. 
 
 " Claymore for ever !" shouted Evan, triumphantly capering about, 
 snapping his fingers, whooping and hallooing in a truly Highland 
 style, so overjoyed was he to see his master victorious. " Cla>anore 
 for ever and aye! bonnily dune,— bravely dime. Sir Wa.'' lace him- 
 self couldna hae matched him better. It was my puir ii,ld faither 
 learned ye that trick, Maister Itonald; and God be thrnkod it's a' 
 ower noo. and that your skin is a haiU ane." 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. H'^ 
 
 Tlio discomfited cavnlier bestowed on liim. a proud look, ut once 
 withering and disdainful. 
 
 '•Noble senor,-"' said ho. turning to Eonald, "you have this day 
 vanquished one of the most accomplished of King Ferdinand's 
 cavalry officers : in fact, senor, I am one of the best SNvordsmen in all 
 tj\\Q ten provinces of Spain ; and to disarm me thus, is no small feat 
 for so young a soldier, and I honour you for it. Catalina de Villa 
 Franca must be— but strike ! Fortune has placed my life a second 
 tune at your absolute disposal : take it ; for I swear by every saint on 
 our monkish muster-rolls, I will have no ignominious terms dictated 
 to me, even though disarmed and at your mercy. So strike the blow 
 that will free you from me for ever." 
 
 " Never ! gallant conde. This quarrel was your own seeking, ana 
 I forgive you for it freely, and for the many insults you have ofiered 
 ine." 
 
 " Senor officiale, you are too generous : no cavalier or rival in Spain 
 would lose the chance you cast away so carelessly." 
 
 " Evan, hand this gentleman his sword. And now, conde, we must 
 look to your wound. I trust it is not a severe one ?" 
 
 " Pho ! 'tis a mere scratch. " 
 
 "Yet it bleeds much." 
 
 " Carajo ! it does — more than I wish it to do. But, senor, I have 
 received so many wounds in ditferent ways, and have bled so much, 
 that I marvel 1 have any blood left in me at all." 
 
 " I regret that the cut is so severe," said lionald, as the conde 
 held up his hand, from which the blood streamed freely. 
 
 " Pho ! senor ; to express regret, though it may appear very gene- 
 rous, is folly. A few minutes since, we would with pleasure have 
 passed our blades through each other's hearts — but that feeling is past 
 now. Ho ! Mendizabel. Eogue ! Avhy do you tarry ! Bind up this 
 quickly, and let me begone. I have lost much time already, and 
 Carlos d'Espana vdW scarcely get the despatches within the appointed 
 time." The wound was tied up hastily, so impatient Avas l)on Bal- 
 thazzar to be gone ; and a strange excitement and irritability pos- 
 sessed him now, instead of his former coolness and self-possession. 
 
 The moment it was over, he sharply scrutinized his saddle-girths 
 and harness-bucklei5 ; after which he vaulted with the grace of a true 
 horseman upon the back of his noble Spanish charger, which had 
 stood by unmoved during the conflict between its rider and llonald. 
 
 " Senor," said the condd to the latter, in a low but emphatic 
 voice, " our quarrel isjended amicably for the present, but perhaps 
 we may meet again. JJo not think that a cavalier of old Castile Avill 
 t-lius easily resign to another so fair a prize as Catalina de Villa 
 Franca. No senor ; I must live for her, or learn to die for Spain." 
 
 He dashed the sharp rowels into his horse's flanks, tearing the very 
 skin ; and forcing the animal to leap a ruined wall, fully six feet 
 high, he vanished from their sight, and rode madly and recklessly 
 towards the centre street of the city. A few minutes more, they 
 beheld his glittering accoutrements flashing in the evening sun, as 
 he plunged forward at the same furious speed beyond the walls of 
 the city, and disappeared over the eminences ill the direction of 
 Albuquerque. 
 
 " He is a gallant fellow," thought llonald, who watched him until 
 he disappeared, "and a noble example he has given me. To him I 
 have almost unvdttingly acted that part, Avhich now Hyndford acts 
 
 I ' G 
 
82 THE nOlIANCE OP WAR. 
 
 to mc. IJut for Truxillo— I have nothing to regret ; I have actea 
 bouourably towards him ; and in my own heart I thank God that 
 this quarrel is ended amicably, and ^\ith so little damage." 
 
 An interruption now occurred to Evan's expressions of joy for the 
 eafety of his master, Avho, although most interested in the fortunate 
 issue of the duel, cared indeed least about it. Tor his attendance. 
 Doctor Mendizabel had received from E.onald a dollon, or onza, a 
 coin worth about £3. 10.?. English ; and as it was the iirst time iu 
 his life that he had ever received so great a fee, his thanks, his pro- 
 testations, and the s\veeps he made Avith his sombrero, were innu- 
 merable ; and he had just taken his departure, when Sarjjento Gomez 
 scrambled hurriedly over the ruinous walls, and leapbg mto the sort 
 of court Avhere they stood, advanced towards Eonald Avith a Spanish 
 mihtary salute. 
 
 " Noble senor," said he, "I have been in search of you over the 
 whole of Merida. A muleteer has Avithin this hour arrived from 
 Euente del Maistre, and says he saw a party of French cavalry 
 advancing down this side of the Guadiana. Donna Catalina wishes 
 to see you immediately. You must fly, seuor, if you would escape 
 being made prisoner." 
 
 " French cavalry ! IIov/ can it be possible ? Yet Evelyn, of the 
 13th, said something about it, which I have forgotten. Can the 
 veracity of your informant be relied on ?" 
 
 " He is true to death, senor ! He is my ov.'u brother, Lazaro 
 Gomez, of Merida, and an honester muleteer mil not be found on 
 the road between Madrid and Alcantara— and that is one of many 
 leagues in length. He has had the honour to be employed more 
 than once by my Lord ~\yellington, as a spy upon Marshal Soult 
 and Marmont." 
 
 "A recommendation, truly ! Are the enemy in force ?" 
 
 " He said two or three troops, senor — Dombrouski's lancers." 
 
 " Sir Rowland Hill is retiring on Merida. Did your brother Lazaro 
 see any sign of his troops ?" 
 
 "No, senor." 
 
 " 'Tis very unaccountable how they have outflanked our division 
 in this manner." 
 
 " Senor, they must have advanced by some secret way pointed out 
 by some of those traitorous banditti which infest every sierra and 
 wood just now. These fellov/s would hang their mother for a 
 maravedi ; so 'tis no wonder they are often false to Spain." 
 
 "These lancers must inevitably be captured by Sir Howland's 
 advanced guard, which cannot be far off now." 
 
 " True, senor ; but you may either be killed or taken captive 
 before the British come up — and so may I, as a Spanish soldier. We 
 must retire westwards to Albuquerque. Dut come, senor ; Donna 
 Catalina — " 
 
 " Yonder they come, by heavens ! " cried Eonald, as a cloud of dust 
 and the glitter of accoutrements appeared about two or three milc.> 
 off, advancing rapidly towards Merida by the river side. "AVe 
 shall have to retire without delay ; but I must first bid the ladies 
 adieu. Get your harness, Pedro ; and though there are but three of 
 us, we will not surrender, even to them, without firing a shot," 
 
 " Viva ! " cried the Spaniard, tossing his red forage-cap into the air, 
 and leaping up to catch it agaio, " Yiva, noble senor ! I will follow 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. ^'j 
 
 jou to death, even as I would the noble cavalier who commands my 
 troop, or King Ferdinand the Seventh himself." 
 
 Descending from the ruins of the fortress, they entered the city, 
 where all was terror, confusion, and dismay at the unexpected 
 appearance of the enemy, whose numbers were exaggerated, and 
 declared to be the whole of Marshal Ney's division, and which, 
 according to report, had utterly annihilated the British under Sir 
 Rowland Hill. Most of the inhabitants were taking to flight, laden 
 with their bedding and clothing. Hundreds of men, bearing burdens 
 of every sort, were pressing towards the western gate, followed by 
 women, whose lamentations were mingled Avith many a bitter 
 " cava jo " against the invaders of their soil. Others led mules and 
 donkeys laden with all kinds of household stuff, and a dense press 
 ensued among the crowd about the city gate, and loud curses of 
 anger and impatience Avere uttered on all sides at the delay in front, 
 the intense pressure from the continually increasing mass behind 
 permitting but few to get out at a time. 
 
 At length a passage was m.ade through the dense column by the 
 arrival of an important personage, — the corregidor, or chief magis- 
 trate of the city, surrounded by several alguazils in broad-leaved 
 sombreros, wearing the livery of the city, and armed with long 
 halberts, or Spanish blunderbusses with brass bell-mouths. The 
 corregidor was a grave old hidalgo, wearing a large military cocked- 
 hat and long moustaches twisted up to his ears ; he was muffled in a 
 large brown cloak, and smoked his cigar, while he surveyed with an 
 unmoved eye the crowd, where almost every face wore the expression 
 of terror, rage, impatience, and dismay. However, all fell back on 
 the right and left, as his old-fashioned coach, with its emblazoned 
 coats armorial and drawn by a single mule, advanced towards the 
 gate. Mounted on another mule rode a livery servant, wearing a red 
 feather in his sombrero, a stiletto in his sash, and armed Avith an 
 enormous whip, which was never a moment idle, being continually 
 at work either among the people to make them give way, or on his 
 cattle to make them increase their speed. 
 
 At the gate of the garden Eonald was met by the voung ladie.s, who 
 both advanced hastily towards him, exclaiming, 0, Don Eonald! 
 nave you heard — " 
 
 " They are in sight — " 
 
 " O Madre de Bios ! you will be either killed or taken a prisoner 
 over the Pyrenees to Prance." 
 
 ■' To escape either of these fates, I must bid you instantly adieu 
 senoritas, — unless you will consent to retire with me from Merida, 
 which Avill scarcely be a safe place for you while the Trench are in it. 
 The advancing party are some of Dombrouski's Polish lancers, who 
 are not famous for their sentiments either of chivalry or gentle cour- 
 tesy. _ They are rough dogs, I understand ; and in gallantry, are far 
 inferior to the brave cavalry of Prance." 
 
 "Oh, they are sad lellows, these lancers, and wear frightful 
 whiskers ; but we do not fear them, senor," replied Inesella, in her 
 usual laughiiig tone. "Tou must know that the Conde d'Erlon, 
 T^ho is one of my many most humble and devoted admirers, gave me 
 3 written protection the last time he was here, and all soldiers who 
 march under the tri-co '.our of Prance must respect and obey it • 
 liierefore, we do not fear them— quite the reverse. Some of the 
 
 G a 
 
84 THE KOMANCK OF WAR. 
 
 Trcnoh are verv gny cavaliers, and I knew a ven' hancL<5ome chasseur 
 
 But, pho ! poor follow ! he was assassinatcJ with some others at 
 
 Albuquerviue." 
 
 '• 'I'hen, Donna Ir.esella, you fear not to remain. And \nll your 
 lot lor protest your cousin y"' 
 
 ■■ O yeSj senor, it protects all who r:rc with me ; hut of cour?o 
 you — '* 
 
 " Must depart at once." 
 
 " Exactly, senor : old D'Erlon's letter will not protect you, who are 
 his enemy." 
 
 " Then, senoritas, now for flight," replied Honald, tightening his 
 sa.«h find belt. " I must abnndou my baggage to your charge. The 
 citizens are nearly all off en route for the north and west, and all the 
 church bells are tolling dismally. But I trust Sir Eowland Hill's 
 advanced guard "will bo here by to-morrow, and if so, our cavalry 
 under General Long will soon capture this handful of lancers." 
 
 " They appear, however, to have scared away my fiery brother, the 
 coude ; he galloped furiously dov/n the street a few minutes since, 
 nearly riding over a poor old padre (protect us. Heaven !), and left 
 the toAMi, without even bidding us adieu, although Catalina called to 
 him from the street balcony." 
 
 '' Alas ! Inesella," said Catalina, " your prattle will detain liim here 
 too long, and every mom^ent is fraught Avith danger." 
 
 " Holy Virgin, I hope not ! Do not compromise your safety by 
 tarrying longer here, senor. Take the road for the forest of La iS'ava, 
 and Pedro Gomez will direct yon. The Mother of God keep her holy 
 hand over you, brave cavalier ! for we may never meet agam." 
 
 '■ Farewell ! senor mio. We have been very happy in Merida," said 
 Catalina, iu a voice of assumed firmness, and presenting her white 
 hand while her lip quivered and her cheek turned very pale. At 
 that moment the distant sound of a cavalry trumpet was borne 
 towards them on the passing breeze. 
 
 " Come awa, sir ; we maunna bide a minute mair, — it's just a 
 temptin' o' Providence," urged Evan, examining his flint as he stood 
 at the garden gate Anth Pedro Gomez, who was armed with his 
 carbine, and had donned his helmet and accoutrements. 
 
 " Keep this for my sake, fair Catalina, and think of me sometimes, 
 M'lien I am far away from you," said Ronald, casting his tartan plaid 
 over her Avhite shoulders as a parting gift ; and kissing her pale brow, 
 and ner cousin's hand, he retired ha.stily from the garden, followed 
 bv tiie soldiers. 
 
 GHAPTEll XIY 
 
 MULETEEES. 
 
 Tri F. red sun was setting amidst a sea of light floating clouds, which 
 displayed a thousand blending shades of purple, saffron, and gold, 
 s-hedding the same warm hues on the scenery around Merida, tinging 
 every object of the beautiful landscape, through which, meandering 
 between dark green groves of the orange and olive, wound the slowly 
 rolling and broad-bosomed Guadiana, seeming hke a flood of lucid 
 Rold, in which the objects on it« .sides were reflected downAvards, the 
 
THE EO-MANCr: OF WAR. 85 
 
 changing ?ky above and the black ron.nd arches of lh(^ uoble bridge 
 all appearing inverted in the bosom of the stream, as on the surface 
 of a polished mirror. 
 
 The dark shadows of the neighbouring mountain were falling 
 across the plain and the city, rendering yet darker the gloomy and 
 antique streets, where all was still confusion and dismay, and from 
 which the chant of the ecclesiastics, and the deep ding-dong of the 
 tolling bells, were borne on the wind towards them, mingled with tb.e 
 shouts of the advancing cavalry, who came on in a clamorous style 
 truly French. Suddenly the dark mass emerged from among the 
 trees which had concealed then* approach, and galloped across the 
 bridge some hundred in jiumber, witli accoutrements glittering., 
 plumes waving, and the tri-coioured pennons fluttering from the 
 heads of their lofty lances. 
 
 " Now, then," exclaimed Eonald, as the last file disappeared from 
 the bridge, " we must strain every nerve to gain the wood of La Nava. 
 A party of these lancers may be sent forward to scour the roads, and 
 we are very far from safe yet." 
 
 " Courage, senor : 'tis but a couple of leaguers or so from hence, 
 and I am well assured that no ])atrol will they send out while there 
 is a single wine-house unsacked in Merida." 
 
 '' Cast away your knapsack, Evan : you Avill get another Avlien wa 
 rejoin. It is an encumbrance to you, so toss it away. Let us but 
 gain the shelter of the wood, and we will there await, in safety, the 
 arrival of our ov^'n troops, as they pass en route for Portugal." 
 
 Evan took his knapsack by the straps, and cast it into a deep pool 
 by the way side, saying it was better ''A' should gang that gate, than 
 ta' into the hands o' uncanny folk." 
 
 About eight miles from Merida they met Lazaro Gomez, the 
 brother of I'edro, and a party of muleteers of Catalonia, halted at a 
 fountain which babbled through an iron pipe fixed into the rock, 
 from which the water gushed, and fell into a little i)ebbled basin. 
 Near it stood an ancient stone cross, marking the tomb of one of 
 Don Alvaro's ancestors, who reposed here in unconsecrated ground. 
 In the course of centuries it had sunk deep into the earth ; but 
 on the upper part yet appeared the time-worn and half-obliterated 
 inscription : — 
 
 AQLI YACE. 
 
 EL NOBLE CABELLERO D. JUAX DE VILLA FRANCA, 
 
 .... ilUERTOS .... EATALLA ANO D. 1128. 
 
 RUEGUEN A DIGS POR EL. 
 
 This fountain and ancient tomb had been the object of many an 
 evening ride with Catalina, who related the history of Don Juan, a 
 romance which I may give to the public at some future time. Ivouald 
 I)aid but little attention to either the cross or brook, but advanced 
 towards the jovial muleteers, who were smoking paper cigars of iheir 
 own manufacture — laughing, singing, and drinking ar/uardicnte to 
 wash down their repa.st of bread, onions, and bacallao, oil and lettuce, 
 which w^as spread on the sward by the side of the fountain ; aroinid 
 which, cropping the herbage, wandered their mules, from whose 
 harness jingled a thousand little tinkling bells. On the approach O- 
 the British ofiicer, the frank fellows sprung to their feet with one 
 accord, and held their brimming horns towards him, while he viua 
 ijrectcd mth many i^ivas and sweeps of their sombreros. 
 
8C THE EOMAJS'CE OF V.\LR. 
 
 " Senor cavalier, I am glad you have escaped our enemies by means 
 aftlic intelligence I brought to Merida," said Lazaro Gomez, the 
 master-muleteer, a short, thick-set fellow, mth a round buUet-nead 
 and good-humoured lace, containing tliat roguish sort of expression 
 which, is always given by artists to the features of SanchoPanza. He 
 ■vvas tanned to the colour of mahogany by continual exposure to the 
 eun, and his chin displayed a short stunted black beard, and slovenly 
 ill-trimmed moustache. 
 
 " I urn much obliged to you indeed, Master Lazaro ; and I would 
 that it was in my power to reward you." 
 
 "Mention not reward, I beg of you, senor cavalier," repUed 
 Lazaro, making another sweep with liis sombrero. Eonald answered 
 by a grave bow. He had become too much accustomed to the appel- 
 lation of " cavalier," and the pompous politeness of the Spaniards, 
 even to smile when he was addressed in a style that would pass better 
 with the renowned Cid, Rodrigo of Bivar, than Eonald Stuart of the 
 Gordon Highlanders. 
 
 " But you must condescend to drink with us, senor," said a mule- 
 teer. " My horn is filled ^vith the best aquardiente. 
 
 "Viva el Eey!" said Eonald, in a complimentary tone, as he 
 emptied the cup. 
 
 "Viva el Eey!" cried the others, draining their liquor to the 
 dregs. 
 
 '■ Evan," observed Eonald, " you ^xi\\ relish this beverage ; 'tis 
 somewhat like our own mountain dew at home." 
 
 " It smells o' the peat reek, sir," said Evan, snuffing with his nose 
 over the horn which Lazaro had given him. " Sour water, I declare ! 
 perfect fushionless water," said the young Highlandman, after he had 
 drunk it all off, however. " Meeserable trash ! O'd, sir, I wadna 
 gie a gill stoup fu' o' what Alpin Oig used to brew wi' the sma' still in 
 the hole at Coir-nan Taischatrin, for a loch fu' o' this agyerdent, as 
 ye ca' it." 
 
 " How is this, Lazaro ?" asked Pedro, observing that Evan disliked 
 the liquor. " Have you nothing else but muddy aquardiente to offer 
 to honest soldiers ? Come, my jo\ial brother, broach us one of those 
 bloated pig-skins, which are piled on the backs of your mules 
 there?" 
 
 " Our Lady del Pilar ! a modest request," replied Lazaro. " Why 
 brother Pedro, bethink you. I cannot touch the burdens of my 
 cattle — they are the property of others. Could I broach a skin, our 
 best would be at the service of the noble cavalier. And as for our 
 atiuardiente, I avouch, by the head of his Holiness ! that better never 
 came out of Catalonia." 
 
 " I may pretend to be a judge," said the soldier, " as I have drunk 
 some thousand flasks of it ; and avouch, in return 'tis muddy as the 
 Tajo in a shower, and only fit for a Portuguese or a dog to drink !" 
 
 '■ Never mind, Lazaro ; your aquardiente is most excellent," ob- 
 served Eonald, seating himself by the gushing fountain, and partaking 
 of the bread and baccallao, or dried cod-fish, which composed their 
 simple fare. " Your mules seem hea\ily laden : how far do you 
 mean to travel to-night ?" 
 " As far as the first posada on the road to Majorga." 
 " What do your cattle carry in these large packages ?" 
 " Oh ! senor, many tilings ; principally flour, rice, corn, pulse, and 
 wine and oil in skins. These commodities wo have brought from 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR, &7 
 
 tliG centre of Catalonia and Arragon, and are carrying to the frontiers 
 »f Portugal, to sell among tlie British troops. We hope to find a 
 good market at the camp before Ciudad Jiodrigo, in the kingdom 
 of Leon." 
 
 " Catalonia and Arragon, did you say ? How ! Thes9 provinces 
 are in possession of the l^ench troops ! " 
 
 " True, senor ; hut we muleteers have ways of our own, b)' which 
 Avc evade the out-picquets and foraging parties of the enemy." 
 
 " Such as " 
 
 "Travelling fast all night, and concealing ourselves closely all 
 day, — and a hundred other modes, Senor, we would evado 
 Satan himself, did he lay snares for us. We muleteers are cunning 
 felloAVs!" 
 
 " You speak truly," observed Pedro. " A Spanish muleteer is a 
 strange being, and one that is as wily and active as a serpent ; but 
 they are happy fellows, I assure you, senor, and like no other men 
 that I know of. A muleteer makes his home everywhere, because 
 he is for ever wandering over all wide Spain. Cracking his wliip and 
 his joke, he travels with a light heart over our long dusty plains, and 
 through the deep passes of the lofty hills and sierras, singing merrily 
 to thejingle of his mules' bells, stopping only to smack his wine-horn 
 or the lips of the peasant girls, whom he loves _ almost as well as his 
 mules, — only almost, senor, because he loves his mules better than 
 himself. He gives them fine names; he scolds, talks, kisses, and 
 sings to them, to cheer them by the way; and at the posada or the 
 bivouac he provides for their wants before he looks after his own. 
 Caramba ! Vv'cre I not a soldier, I would certainly become a jolly 
 muleteer. He is a droll fellow indeed — soft-hearted and hard-headed, 
 but always honest, and true as the sun, senor." 
 
 " You have made a most excellent jianegyric upon them, Pedro," 
 remarked Eonald, when the soldier had stopped to take breath, and 
 the shout of laughter which his observations called forth from the 
 muleteers had subsided. 
 
 " Our Lady del Pilar ! good, good ! Well said, Pedro ; you 
 deserve another horn for that," cried the master-muleteer. " But if 
 it please you, draw some distinction between us and the muleteers 
 of Valencia, who are none of the best,— in fact the veriest rogues in 
 all Spain. They would cheat the holy Virgin herself, where she to 
 traffic with them. But talking of rogues, senor, if you would travel 
 with us to Majorga, we should be proud of the honour of your com- 
 panv, and in truth you mav find some advantage in ours." 
 
 " Why so, Master Lazaro ?" 
 
 " The ruinous chapel of Santa Lucia, in the cork-forest yonder, 
 has become the haunt of some desperadoes for this week past, — 
 fellows who are very unscrupulous whom they attack or encounter, 
 and with us, who are all stout and honest men, and well armed to 
 boot," — every man had a trahuco or blunderbuss with a brass bell- 
 muzzle slung across his back, — " you will be in greater safety. Our 
 escort is not to be despised in these perilous times." 
 
 " I thank you for your ofier and advios • b*:* ss I mean to await in 
 this neighbourhood the arrival of our ii*:T i-y f^ it would not suit m© 
 to travel so far westward as Majorga, and so I care not to take my 
 chance of encountering the thieves in the wood yonder. My High • 
 land follo;ver will of course, stand by me ; and Pedro will, I ifupposs 
 likewise." 
 
88 THE HOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 '' Muy I be blasted by a curse if I do not, senor I " The muleteers 
 cltipped their hands in tiijplause. 
 
 Are the rogues numerous?" a.sked Ronald. 
 
 '' Three or four, senor ; but stoutly armed desperadoes, and led by 
 a regular demon, long well kno\Mi as a frontier guerilla, whose only 
 delight was slaughter and war to the knife ! A fellow that could eat 
 lire, as the proverb say.s, and upon whom lead and steel were alike 
 ineffectual." 
 
 " AVe will put him to the test, if he crosses our path. I never 
 heard of a hide yet, unless covered by steel, that was proof against; 
 the point of a claymore. Three or four, did you say ? We are but 
 three ; but then we are soldiers, you know, and are alone worth a 
 dozen such as these fellows you speak of. But what has caused a 
 gallant guerilla to turn robber ?" 
 
 " "\\^hy, senor, 'tis a long story ; and we had it yesterday from a 
 poor muleteer of Codeciera, whom the villains rifled of his mules 
 and every raaravedi in his pouch, — the devil confound them for it i" 
 
 "Well, and this guerilla—" 
 
 " Kept a wine-house in Albuquerque ; but for some attempt to 
 assassinate the. famous cavalier Don Alvaro de Villa Franca, his 
 goods were confiscated to King Ferdinand by the corregidor's order. 
 On finding himself a penniless outlaw, he took his musket and 
 dagger, and turned bandit — keeping himself in the desert places of 
 the forest of Albuquerque and the Sierra de Montanches for some 
 weeks past. No^v he has begun to collect followers, and has sta- 
 tioned liimself in the Avood of La Nava, rendering its neighbourhood 
 anything but a safe one." 
 
 " Go on, Lazaro," said Eonald, eagerly ; " his name is — " 
 
 " Narvaez Cifuentes — a felloAv I never much liked, although I have 
 emptied some thousand horns at his casa. But what is the matter, 
 noble senor ; surely I have not offended you ?" 
 
 Ronald's eyes sparkled with stern delight, and true Highland fury 
 swelled within his breast, at the intelligence that Cifuentes Avas so 
 near ; and his mid reckless spirit and love of adventure made him 
 instantly resolve to search the wood and confront his hated enemy, 
 at all risks and hazards. 
 
 " Evan — Evan ! the daring wretch who attempted to assassinate 
 me is lurking among the dingles of the wood yonder. I will seek 
 him out and take vengeance on him, or perish. He has but three 
 armed Aillains -vvith him : you will, of course, follow me ?" 
 
 " Sir, I wadna be my faither's son, if I didna follow whare'er ye 
 led the way," replied Evan testily. " The venture's no' what I would 
 just like ; folk shouldna tempt danger or Providence, but folio v/ ye 
 I vnW as long as I can draw breath ; and, troth, I would amaist gie 
 up my hope o' salvation, to hae but a chance at the infernal riever 
 Avi' my firelock ! " 
 
 To Pedro and the muleteer, who were surprised at his sudden ex- 
 citement, Ronald related all he knew of Cifuentes ; and during the 
 narrative he was interrupted by many an indignant " cava jo " and 
 malediction on the wine-seller. When he had finished, the mule- 
 teers declared with one voice, that if they had not their mules to 
 attend to, they would have followed him into the wood and assisted 
 him to attack the liaiuit of the robbers among the ruins, and to kill 
 or capture his enemy ; but Pedro, animat<>d by the natural daring of 
 a Spaniard, and as a soldier of Spain considering it his duty to foUov/ 
 
THE EOMAjS'CE of WAll. S3 
 
 llonald as an officer of the allies, he at once volunteered frankly to 
 attend him in his rash undertaking. 
 
 The evening had hegun to deepen into the darker shadovi's of 
 night; and the pale evening star, twinkling amidst the blushing 
 blaze of the -western sky, had risen above the wood of La Nava, when 
 the sturdy muleteers, collecting their beasts of burden, moved off 
 with mucii noise, jolhty, and cracking of whips, in the direction of 
 the place where they meant to pass the night. Honald bade them 
 farewell, and. followed by his two soldiers, left the fountain, making 
 strjiight for the cork-forest, the dark foliage of which lay involved in 
 '■' a brown horror " before them. 
 
 It was a clear and beautiful moonlight night when they reached 
 the skirts of the wood, Avhence, on looking back, they beheld a red 
 light, Avhich spread over the sky, rising in the directioi; of Merida, 
 telhng that the French were at their old work— pillage and ruthless 
 deva.station. Stuart trembled for the safety oi' the fair I'rionds he 
 had left behind, and earnestly trusted that the Count d'Erlon's 
 letter would protect them from insult or outrage. 
 
 ''Braw wark at jMerida this bonnio nicht, sir,"' observed Ev;ui, 
 giving a last look to the rear ere they plunged into the recesses of 
 the forest. " My certie ! the very lift seems a' in a low, the clouds 
 are red wi' streaks o' fire : and here's Pedro, puir gomeril ! he is 
 like to gang clean daft at the sicht o't." 
 
 "You would not be in a very pleasant humour yourself, Evan, 
 were you to see the clachan of Strathfillan, or the " fair city ' <><! 
 Perth, blazing by the hands of invaders ; and Jessie Cavers, perhaps 
 — ay, even your Jessie, carried off like a stricken deer across tlio 
 saddle-bow of a Erench dragoon."' 
 
 " Sic waefu' things will never happen at hamc in auid Scotland, 
 God be praised for't ! never, sir, while oor men are made o' tiio 
 stuff they are; the broad-sword has bent, but it has not yet 
 broken ! But it's unco droll to hear how Pedro, puir chield, havers 
 to himsel." 
 
 Unaware of ho^\' he was listened to, Pedro Gomez ground his teeth 
 with ill-concealed rage, Avhile he invoked the curses of San Juan, 
 San Geronimo, and a hundred others, not forgetting our Holy Lady 
 of Maiorga, on the enemy. This vituperation appeared to give him 
 a deal of comfort; and thus consoling himself, he led them on 
 towards the ruins of Santa Lucia, by a pathway v/ith which he wa.s 
 well acquainted. It was so narrow that only "^one could pass at a 
 time, and so much intersected, crossed, and' barred by brambles, 
 bushes, and foliage, that they had infinite trouble in proceeding at 
 all. It led them into a deeper and denser part of the forest, the 
 dewy branches of which were now in full foliage ; the waving leaves 
 were glittering in a thousand hues and shades of green, as the pale 
 moonbeams fell on them, streaming in a gush of silver light on the 
 glistening grass, or down the dark dingles, as they pushed aside the 
 heavy branches in their progress, tearing the nets of silvery gauze 
 which many a busy spider was weaving from tree to tree in the merry 
 moonlight. 
 
 " Eor ony sake, Pedro, baud your %Yheesht, man ! " exclaimed the 
 Scottish soldier, impatiently ; " it's enough to mak' a body eerie to 
 hear ye growling and yammering that gate, in siccan a dismal place 
 Bs this. O'd sir, I fiever heard ony ane blatter sic words, exceptin' 
 the auld lawj-er body at Almendrelauchy, when Angus Mackie and 
 
00 THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 ni3 5ol had a feclit wi' liim. AVould ye like to he:ir tliat story, sir?'"' 
 he added, turnini? to his master. 
 
 " No, not at in-csent," was the reply ; " we must move in silence, 
 else 'tis useless to move at all. L'ook well to your flint and priming', 
 and keep your lock clear of ImisIil's. Should a mu.sketbe discharged, 
 it woulu alarm the thieves, on whom I ^vish to steal unperceived, if 
 possible." ILonald repeated these injunctions in the Spanish lan- 
 guage, as indeed he had to do most of his observations, and they now 
 advanced in perfect silence, follovring the intricate bindings of the 
 narrow track, v»hich in former days had been a well-beaten road to 
 the sequestered chapel of the forest, the fame of whose relicario drew, 
 in ancient times, scores of devout pilgnms at certain seasons. As 
 the pathway was now more open, Ronald took the lead. 
 
 It was certainly a rash and daring attempt to enter thus a wood, 
 every pass of which was unknown to them, and at night, on such an 
 errand, to search for so formidable a desperado as Narvaez Cifuentes. 
 a name which is yet a bugbear to the cliildren of Estramadura, ana 
 used by their mothers to frighten them to sleep ; more especially as 
 the number of his followers was doubtful, and it was only certain that 
 they would all be equally desperate and ferocious as himself. But 
 Ivonald's bold blood was up, and his eagerness to take vengeance upon 
 him for the recent wound that his hand had inflicted, and the pain 
 and suffering which that wound had caused, rendered him blind to 
 what might be the probable consequences. 
 
 Alice's desertion of him for a higher-bom and more wealthy lover 
 had rendered him careless of life, prompt to encounter and utterly 
 regardless of any danger, which was proved by the cold insensibihty 
 ^ntll which he conducted himself during his duel with the conde. 
 That native spirit of daring which exists in the bosom of every 
 mountaineer, and which he possessed in no slight degi*ee, likewise 
 spurred him on ; and thinking not of the rash manner in which he 
 was perilling his own life and the Uves of his friends, he continued 
 to penetrate resolutely into the most gloomy part of the wood. 
 
 Eh! gude guide us! what is that, sir?" exclaimed Iverach, 
 charging his musket breast high, while he started back in dismay as 
 some huge animal arose from its lair, upon which they had encroached, 
 and dashing furiously past them, swept through the forest glade like 
 a temj)est. 
 
 " What an awfu' like beast to meet in siccan eerie a place ! "' 
 
 " ]\Iany such have Ave shot at home on the green braes of Stra- 
 thonan and side of Eenmore. Is it possible that you knew not what 
 itATas?" 
 
 Evan was abashed, and trod on without replying, while he was 
 sadly incommoded by the rough brambles and stunted bushes, Avhich 
 tore his bare legs, where left uncovered by the tartan kilt and gar- 
 tered hose. 
 
 "Senor," said Pedro, "what a nol)le deer it was that rushed past 
 us just now!" 
 
 " Ay, faith ! and a splendid mark for a single ball at a range of forty 
 yard? or so ; but I am surprised to find it herein a cork-forest." 
 
 " It must have come down from the Sierra de Montanches, for 
 there, and among the high mountains of Guadalupe, many thousands 
 of gallant deer and the dark-broAATi roe-buck rove about in freedom." 
 
 Their attention was now attracted by a strange noise, which seemed 
 to approach them in front : it was a series of sounds, in tones some- 
 
tfgfi ROMANCE OF ri'AVi. 91 
 
 Ching between the snorting growl of some "\Aild animal and the 
 squeaking of young swine. Uonald, Avho had never heard such noises 
 before, Avas very much surprised, and kept his hand on the hilt of his 
 sword ; but poor Evan's nerves were sadly discomposed, and he felt 
 every hair on his scalp bristling under his bonnet, as the dismal 
 remembrance of the many awful beings who peopled the Coirnan 
 Taischatrin, and every thicket and corrie about Lochisla, rushed 
 upon his mind. All the stories he had heard of the dreadful water- 
 horse that dwelt in the castle loch (and which his father, the piper, 
 beheld one clear moonlight night floating on the surface of the placid 
 water, as he was returning from a dredyie), of the little fairies who 
 lived under the green holms of Corrieavon, and the yet more terrible 
 white woman who haunted the black muir of Strathonan and howled 
 to the wind the live-long night, all crowded horribly upon his 
 memory, and the perspiration burst forth from every pore, as some- 
 thing like a legion of flying devils swept tumultuously past them, and 
 plunging into the underwood disap])eared, sciueaking, growling, and 
 tearing the bushes to fragments in their wild career. 
 
 " Pedro ! What are all these, in the devil's name ? " cried Eonald, 
 starting back and half unsheathing his weapon. 
 
 " Only a herd of wild swine, senor," replied Pedro, with a laugh. 
 " Demonios, one fellow has given a stroke with his tusk in nassing, 
 which I little like." 
 
 " 'T'was only a drove of wild pigs," said llonald. " Cheer up, Evan ; 
 surely you were not frightened ? Yet you seem very pale in the 
 moonlight." 
 
 " Prightened, said ye, sir?" rephed, or rather asked, Evan indig- 
 nantly, but feeling considerably re-assured the wliile, " frightened ! 
 the deil a bit, sir. But I never got sic a start in a' my born days 
 syne the nicht the howlet gied me a flafi" wi' its wing, when we took 
 Maister Jilacquirk ower to the ruins on the Kirk -inch. Ye'll mind 
 o'd sir ; he Avas living A\i' the auld laird for a day or twa at the tower, 
 and we rov/ed him ower the loch in the boat, to gie a look o' the 
 bonnie ruins in the moonlicht." 
 
 " Macquirk ! " reiterated lionald, the name recalling a disagreeable 
 passage in his ftither's letter. 
 
 '■'Ay, sir, Ttlaister Macquirk, — a pleasant smooth-spoken gentle- 
 man, as a' Edinburgh writer-folk are. Eh ! God be wi' us, sir ! 
 what's this noo ? Mair mid pigs, I declare ! " cried he in considerable 
 trepidation. 
 
 " P.shaw ! Evan. Your father, old Donald, has made a complete 
 old 'ivife of you, by his horrible legends and stories." 
 
 " It's no for me, sir, to But it's just a temptin' of Providence 
 
 to be—" 
 
 " Hush ! 'tis only the barking of dogs. Tread softly, and keep 
 close under the darkest shadows of the fohage." 
 
 " There is a man yonder, senor, — evidently a sentinel," whispered 
 Pedro in a low voice. 
 
 " Where ? " asked Ronald as they halted. 
 
 " About thirty paces otf." 
 
 " Under the dark tree ? " 
 
 " Ay, senor,— the moon shines full upon him." 
 " Keep close in the gloom ; he sees us now, I think." 
 The figure of a man armed with a long musket appeared clearly 
 the brij^lit rafliance of the mooD streamed down the narrow pai 
 
 as 
 th 
 
92 THi: iiOMANCE OF WAK, 
 
 plittoriu'jj on the 'vutts of his pistols and liilt of the poniard stuck m 
 ihe worsted sash which w:us twisted round his waist. He wore a long 
 slouched cap, which hun;^ down his back, and various tassels, ribbons, 
 :i)id gewgaws of gold laco that adorned his short velvet jacket glim- 
 mered in the moonlight. 
 
 " Qtiieti vire .<'" challenged he, like a Spanish sentinei, while he 
 stooped his ear towards Ihe ground, listening intensely for a few 
 seconds. He appeared to have heard something. It was Evan's 
 feet rustling among the last year's leaves. The robber stood erect, 
 and cocked his musket while he looked forward into the gloom, a 
 passing cloud having obscured the face of the moon. 
 
 ^' Carajo ! Quien vire? Amigo-s 6 enemigosV he repeated, the 
 •sonorous tones of his voice re-echoing in the dingles of the wood, 
 tuid arousing the fierce growling of some dogs near at hand. 
 
 " This is one of the villains, senor, bedecked in all his ill-gotten 
 finery." 
 
 "AVe must despatch him," answered Eouaid in a fierce whisper, 
 his natural impetuosity becoming roused ; " we must rid ourselves of 
 him. but how ? " 
 
 " (^^nietly, senor, — leave him to mc. Every man lost to the enemy 
 IS one gained to us. — so says Murillo, and he — "' 
 
 "Pshav.^! never mind iMurillo. This fellow must be settled 
 wpr'lj , .r' we would steal upon the rest. AVhat would you advise ? 
 He certainly hears us, and should he tire in this direction, one of us 
 may be knocked on the head. I \vill rush on him, and disarm or cut 
 him down in a twinkling." 
 
 " Nay, noble senor ; his outcry would be as mischievous as the 
 discharge of his musket : the ruins of the chapel are close at hand, 
 remember. Leave him to mc," was Pedro's answer, while he coolly 
 displayed the blade of a long Spanish knife, which flashed as he drew 
 it, and, gliding from Ronald's side, advanced softly towards the 
 bri!:r;!nd under the shadow of the trees. 
 
 The challenge of the bandit again sounded through the lonely 
 wood. 
 
 " Cuidado, amigos mios : cuidado ? " he added in a voice of taunt 
 and warning, but evidently while he was uncertain whether or not 
 any one had approached his post. He drew his thumb-nail cautiously 
 across the sharp edge of his flint, he raised his musket to his shoulder, 
 and was about to fire in the direction of the place where llonald and. 
 Evan stood concealed. Another second would perhaps have sealed 
 the fate of one of them, wdien the stiletto of the dragoon glittered 
 near him in the pale moonlight, — a heavy blo->v was given, and a deep 
 groan succeeded ; the robber fell dying upon the sward, while his 
 musket only flashed in the pan, and fell rattling from his grat]! 
 witliout doing damage, llonald rushed towards the spot, and found 
 the blood-thirsty sargt^i o wiping his deadly weapon with scrupulous 
 accuracy, Avlnle'he kept his foot upon the yet warm, though breath- 
 less corpse of the man he had destroyed. The light of the moon felr 
 with a cold and ghastly lustre on the pale and rigid, yet very fine 
 features of the dead man, "becoming contracted and fierce with the 
 recent death-struggle. His white and up-turned eyes shone with 
 a terrible glare as the mooa-beams fell on them, and altogether there 
 was something sad and appalling in the sudden manner in which 
 this desperado had been hurled into eternity, with all bis unrepented 
 B.nd manifold sins upon his bead. 
 
THE KOMANCE OF AVAK. 93 
 
 " Awfu' worlc this, sir ! " said Evan, with a sliudder, while he sur- 
 veyed the stark and bokl features of the slain, around v/hom a black 
 {;ooI formed by his blood lay increasing. "A dour-lookinc; chield he 
 is, Avi' a jilooni on his brow that would suit liob Eoy himsol." 
 
 "1 would to Heaven, Gomez," observed the equally-excited Stuart, 
 " you had found some other mode of silencing him than this ; there 
 is somewhat in it at which I revolt." 
 
 The Spaniard laughed grimly. 
 
 " Senor," said he, " the man was only a robber : and Avhen old 
 Murillo gets hold of such he hangs them by scores at a time, and 1 
 have seen a stout beech bending under a load of such devil's fruit. 
 Pho ! senor, it matters not. Vt'e are now close upon the ruins of 
 the chapel, and tlie villains who harbour there have some formidable 
 allies— maslilf dogs. I hear them growling, and I assure you, senor, 
 that a demon may be as easily dealt with as a Spanish hound. You 
 will require all your resohition and energy to — " 
 
 "' I do not mean to relinquish the search, after having proceeded 
 so far," replied Ronald, interrupting the Spaniard, at whose tone he 
 felt a little piqued. " I assure you, Sargento Gomez, 'tis not the 
 sight of a little blood that will make the heart of Scottish Highlander 
 fail." 
 
 '' I meant not to ofi'end. senor: but let us ])rococd. The ruins of 
 Santa Lucia are some twenty yards from this." 
 
 ■' Forward, then, — lead on," 
 
 Eonald in passing possessed himself of the dead man's loaded 
 musket and well-filled pouch of ball cartridges, an acquisition on 
 which he had soon, reason to congratulate himself. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 TKi: BANDITTI. 
 
 Treading softly and warily, they came to an opening in the wood, 
 and found themselves close upon the ruins of the ancient structure. 
 It occupied the summit of a grassy mound, which sloped down on 
 all sides, and where the mouldered remains of some aiicient crosses 
 and tombstones l;iy half sunk and buried among the long rank grass. 
 The chapel had almost disappeared ; little remained save the crypt ; 
 and at intervals, amid a heap of shattered stones, rose tall ornamented 
 buttresses (surviving the intermediate walls), their summits glimmer- 
 ing in the moonlight, which streamed through loopholes and ya^vATi- 
 ing rents in the massive masonry, showing the weeds and grass 
 which waved in every nook and corner, flourishing around the pros- 
 trate effigies of departed Avarriors, whose monumental busts lay 
 stretched like rigid coriises under their ruined canopies. 
 
 "The old kirk o' Inchisla just, ower again !" exclaimed Evan, as 
 he surveyed the heaps of prostrate pillars and crumbled arches Avith 
 feelings of awe and veneration. 
 
 " Santos ! Avill you be silent ?" asked Pedro, in a fierce whisper in 
 Spanish. 
 
 " I dirma ken what ye say, mon ; yc are waiu' than an Aber- 
 donian." 
 
 " Keep silence, Evan ! " said Eonald : " Ave are clfisc ui)on their lair 
 novr." 
 
94 THK BO^fAKCE OF WAB. 
 
 A ray of light, stroaining through a cross-formed Iqophole, dre^v 
 them towards it ; and on looking in, they beheld the assembled con- 
 clave of the worthies they ^vere in search of, but found them more 
 numerous than Liizaro Gome/ had given them to believe. In the 
 crypt, or lower vaults of the chapel, stood upwards of twenty, per- 
 haps thirty, l)lack-browed and swarthy desperadoes, clustered around 
 the marble pedestal of a tomb, ui)on which were displayed a great 
 quantity of coin, jewellery, and various articles of value, all glitter- 
 ing in the streaming blaze of a luige oil-lamp placed amid them. 
 Most of the fellows were attired in embroidered jackets, adorned 
 with rich military lace torn from the uniforms ot the dead, laced 
 hose, and high-crowned sombreros adorned witli feathers, or long 
 cloth head-dresses resembling a nightcap. Some, however, were in 
 absolute rags ; none appeared to have been snaven, for a month at 
 lesLiit, and had their ferocious faces covered Avith masses of black 
 glossy hair, — probably as a disguise, to be removed as occasion re- 
 quired. All carried pistols and poniards in their sashes or waist- 
 belts, and most of them were armed with military carbines, muskets, 
 and accoutrements, French and English, thousands of wliich were 
 in these days to be found on every battle-field, and to be had for the 
 trouble of taking them away. Trunks, portmanteaus, mails, and 
 innumerable articles of plunder lay piled in various corners. 
 
 Fastened by strong cords to the pillars which supported the groined 
 roof of the crypt, ai)peared five or sLx fierce Spanish mastiff" dogs, 
 animals of a reddish colour generally, larger and stronger than Bri- 
 tish greyhounds. They seemed aware of the approach of strangers . 
 every moment they made the hollow vaults ring with their hoarse 
 yells, while they rolled about their fierce red eyes, and shook the 
 snow-white foam from their jet-black muzzles as they strained and 
 strove, almost strangling themselves in the attempt, to snap the 
 cords which bound them to the stone columns. 
 
 "Senor, Ave must retire, if it pleaseyou," whispered Pedro; "it 
 would be Avorse than Moorish rashness if three of us Avere to encoun- 
 ter thirty such devils. And then the dogs — " 
 
 " I fear Ave must abandon the attempt," replied the officer, in a 
 voice of stern regret. Discretion is the better part of valour, and 
 Naryaez and I may meet again ; but noAV — " 
 
 " it is just a temptin' o' Providence, sir," said Evan, " to bide here, 
 wi' sic a nest o' born deils beloAV us. What an aAvfu' looking galloAvs 
 rogue the chield is that counts out the siller." 
 
 The light fell fully upon the robber's face as Evan spoke. 
 
 " It is, — it is the very villain avIio fired at me near Merida," mut- 
 tered Eonald, almost aloud, in a tone of uncontrollable passion, and 
 feeling scarcely able to restrain himself from shootmg Cifuentes dead 
 upon the spot ; but he repressed the fierce sentiments of intense 
 hatred, indignation, and horror wdiich he entertained for him, and 
 paused even when his hand was on the lock of the musket which 
 he carried. 
 
 " Whelp !" exclaimed one furiously to Narvaez, " think you I will 
 thus tamely submit to be defrauded of my share in this matter ? Pe- 
 member, you are not at your old AA'ork of dealing out sour Avine at 
 Albuquerque ! The rings I took from the image of our Lady at 
 Majorga Avere alone AA'orth two hundred duros." 
 
 ''Pesetas, you mean, Julian ViSiZy—jpesetas ; they were copper 
 trash." 
 
THi; ROHANCE OF WAS. 95 
 
 "I say ihiros : they Avere pure and beaten gold, embossed riclily. 
 Methinks I should best know : I have prayed at that shrine some 
 hundred times ere — " Ho paused and grew pale. 
 
 " Bethink you, Julian, of my last night's work, and — " 
 
 "Bah ! The stabbing of an old ahogado." 
 
 "Old? Perdition seize him ! he fought fiercely for his ill-gotten 
 gold. I broke the blade of a choice knife on the bones that cover his 
 hard heart. But silence, Diaz, my pet ! Though we may eat flesh 
 in Lent, and rifle our Lady of Majorga, we would scorn to cheat 
 each other. Honour among — among — " 
 
 " Thieves ! End the adage at once, driveller," cried he whom they 
 named Julian Diaz, a wild-looking fellow, with a broken nose and a 
 frightful squint. " Honour," he added impatiently, " sounds strangely 
 indeed in such a rogue's mouth as thine, IN arvaez, — the broken keeper 
 of a "wine casa." 
 
 " Why not ?" cried a third. " Every man, from the king and the 
 soldier down to the lowest ahogado, swears now by his word of honour ; 
 and why may not we ?" 
 
 "Agreed, agreed. Go o\\ diavolo ! go on with the distribution," 
 cried the others impatiently. 
 
 " Fiend take these dogs ! what do they growl at ? Some one surely 
 approaches." 
 
 " Impossible," answered Diaz. " Lazarillo is watching the only 
 approach, and all is right ; so count on, Narvaez." 
 
 " Where was I ? Ay — three hundred and ninety-eight, three hun- 
 dred and ninety-nine, four hundred reals" continued Narvaez, 
 counting the money, " are one hundi'ed pesetas ; now, we are thirty 
 in number, including Lazarillo — " 
 
 " But the necklace and rings w^hicli I took from the old lawyer's 
 daughter?" interrupted the avaricious Juhan. 
 
 "San Jago of Compostella wither your accursed tongue!" ex- 
 claimed Cifuentes, grasping fiercely the hilt of his poniard ; " how 
 often am I to lose count by your interruptions ? Allow me to deal 
 to each man his share, and then preach, as of old, until you are 
 weary. When you left your cloister at San Juan, you should have 
 left there your monkish greed with your beads and cowl. One hun- 
 dred pesetas, then, is — is — twenty duros," &c. &c. ; and so on he con- 
 tinued to reckon and count, while his brother desi)eradoes watched 
 round in silence, Avith lowering looks of eagerness, ferocity, and 
 avarice, their hard-featured countenances appearing like those of 
 demons, as the yellov/ lustre of the lamp fell on their harsh outlines. 
 
 "Let us retire now, while we may do so in safety," whispered 
 Eonald. "But how nov/, Pedro! what is the matter ■v\ithyou?'* 
 h& asked, on observing that the face of the Spaniard was pale, fierce, 
 and betrayed symptoms of deep excitement. 
 
 _" Ah ! senor ojjiciale," he renlied in a scarcely audible voice, " Julian 
 Diaz, the wretch who was this moment disputing with the master 
 rogue, has done me more ■^Tong than even his life can atone for." 
 How — how so ? Speak low and quickly." 
 
 "Two years ago I was about to l)e wedded to a girl of Merida, 
 Isobel Zuares,— a fair creature, senor, and of good birth, for her 
 grandfather had been an alcalde. The very evening before our mar- 
 riage, this fiend Julian Diaz, who was then a monk in the Convento 
 de San Juan, sacrilegiously conceived a passion for her at the con- 
 fessional, and bore her that night by force to the forest of Albu- 
 
(K". THE KOMAKCE OF WAK. 
 
 quer(iue. Dios .' (J Dios ! scnor, I never again beheld her, — neve 
 :tiiain in hie at least: poor Isobcl !" He paused a mouient, and the 
 (juivcriiig muscles of his face, which appeared pale as that of a 
 sjjectre in the nioonli;^ht, showed the inward agony of his soul. 
 
 "AVell, Pedro, an.l this Diaz—" 
 
 " Since that day has been a ro])bcr and outlaw : as such ho has 
 eluded my search. Jkit now — *" He cocked and raised his carbine. 
 
 ''Tor Heaven's sake — for our own sakes, beware what you do, 
 C-Jomez ! We must retreat rather than attack. Our lives would 
 pay for our rashness in encounterin;^ so many." 
 
 " God be wi' us ! Would ye be tomptin' Providence by firing on 
 sic a nest o' caterans ?" said Evan angrily, as he dragged Pedro from 
 the wall towards the gloomy dingle. " Come awa, ye "desperate loon. 
 If ye baud your life at a bawbee only, I baud mine dearer than a' the 
 goud in the hill o' Kcir ; and there lies the ransom o' seven crowned 
 kings." 
 
 " Dlavolo ! I will not be restrained. " cried the dragoon fiercely, 
 disengaging himself from the grasp of the Highlander. *'I will 
 revenge Isobel Zuares, or die ! " He rushed to the loop-hole, and 
 tired at tlie group of ])andits. Julian Diaz, shot through the heart, 
 fell dead among his territied comrades. 
 
 " Follow me, senors ! 1 kno^v every pass and thicket of the wood, 
 and will easily elude their pursuit," exclaimed Pedro, dashing into 
 the bushes, and threading his way at random through the maze of 
 dark thickets and entangled underwood. The two mountaineers, 
 acting on the first impulse of the moment, also sought safety by 
 retiring, and followed Pedro \nth ease and rapidity through every 
 obstacle, having been accustomed from their boyhood to thread the 
 dense pine forests of the Scottish highlands. 
 
 On they hurried at random, pressing aside the heavy bushes and 
 branches, getting themselves bruised and torn by sharp brambles and 
 hard stumps ; but wounds and contusions were unfelt or unheeded in 
 the excitement of the moment, as they pressed forward regardless of 
 immediate consequences. Ivonald was boiling with iuAvard rage and 
 vexation to find himself retiring thus from wretches Avhom he so 
 lieartily hated and despised, and more than once he almost resolved 
 to stand and fight against them to the death ; but his discretion 
 overruled his desperate resolution, pointing out that flight and defer- 
 ring his revenge till another time would be the most prudent course 
 to pursue ; but that a future time Avould ever be, seemed at present 
 very doubtful. Piercely in ]")ursuit, following their path with scrupu- 
 lous precision, came the outlaws, eager for plunder and revenge. 
 These savage desperadoes had, however, been distanced by some 
 jiundred yards ; but their shouts, outcries, and the tread of their feet 
 -were distinctly heard, as they pursued Avith the speed and accuracy 
 of men accustomed to the ground, and to the irregular warfare of 
 guerillas. 
 
 Now and then the gloom of the dark wood was illumined by a 
 lurid flash, as a random shot was fired in the direction of the fugitives 
 who more than once had narrow escapes from being killed or 
 wounded ; the latter was to be dreaded, as it would have ensured, 
 perhaps, a death of torture from the i)oniards of the bandits. A part 
 of the forest was now gained where the trees grew thinner, and the 
 ground was more open ; but their path was embarrassed by piled 
 masses of rocks, roots and stumps of decayed trees, entwined bushes 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAH. 97 
 
 fallen cork-tree^, deep gorges and holes, and here and there the 
 stony bed of some bubbling brook. Nevertheless they still kept their 
 pursuers at the same distance, and trod on quickly and in silence. 
 
 The moon, which had been obscured for some time, now broke 
 forth and lighted the wild scenery ^vith the pale splendour of its 
 silvery light. 
 
 " These wretches are undoubtedly gaining upon us," said Ronald, 
 pausing a moment to listen and draw breath. Your ill-timed rash- 
 ness, Pedro, will certainly cost us our lives." 
 
 " For my own I care not ; but I regret that yours, noble senor, or 
 that of my gallant comrade, should be placed in such deadly peril 
 by me." 
 
 "It was a temptin' o' Providence to attack sic a gang," observed 
 Evan, who had begun to comprehend Spanish a little. " O'd, sir ! 
 gin we had but ten o' our ain braw fellows here, we would soon gar 
 tnem ca' a halt." 
 
 " Yes ; oh ! had we but so many of the Gordon Highlanders here, 
 I would soon give these vagabonds fight, thirty of them though there 
 be." 
 
 " Twenty-eight, senor ; my hand has struck two from the muster- 
 roll," said Pedro, ducking his head to avoid a shot which whistled 
 past. 
 
 " There they are now. How it stings me to the heart's core to fly 
 thus before such a despicable crew ! " 
 
 As the moon shone forth again, their pursuers were distinctly seen 
 behind, bounding over rocks, and leaping through bushes, clearing 
 every impediment with the activity of roes, while the ^\ild yells, 
 maledictions, and blasphemy, with which they startled the far echoes 
 of the lonely forest, imparted to the scene a singular and exciting, 
 but certainly terrible effect. Some becoming weary, or missing the 
 track, their numljers were now diminished to about a score, and shot 
 upon shot they sent after the three fugitives, the glitter of whose 
 polished appointments they could plainly discern in the moonlight. 
 " Fire on them ! take a cool and deliberate aim, that every shot 
 may take down its man ! " cried Ronald, in a voice which had become 
 hoarse with passion and fatigue ; while, hy way of example, he levelled 
 the musket of the dead robber over a fragment of rock, and let fly its 
 contents at the nearest pursuer, who fell with a shriek that started 
 the nild birds in the farthest recesses of the wood, and gave a tem- 
 porary check to the ardour of the banditti, who still followed them 
 closely, but more warily — firing at them from behind rocks and 
 bushes, maintaining a running skirmish^ which, notwithstanding the 
 danger, had something very exciting in it, and pleased Ronald's bold 
 and fiery disposition better than the unresisting manner of their 
 previous flight. 
 
 " Our Lady of Majorga assist us !" cried Pedro, in a voice of dis- 
 may. " We are lost now, senor : the fiends have brought up the dogs 
 to their assistance." 
 
 " Pause not a second, but fire and reload ; we have steel and lead 
 for the dogs, as well as for their less noble masters. Excellent ! that 
 shot told well, Evan." 
 
 "Ay, sir, the fallow is Licking up his shoon like a red-rae. I see 
 his leszs in the moonlicht dangling ower the cam o' stanes," replied 
 the other, coolly traihng his piece, and ramming another charge nard 
 home. "But o'd, sir, look at thae awfu' black tykes, louping owef 
 
 H 
 
98 THE EOMA>'CE OF AVAB. 
 
 sf;aur and b»jsb,banlc and brae, like fairies, or sic-like avvsome things. 
 bleutU-dogs, I declare ! tbe born deevils !" 
 
 '^ Jjemonios ! senors. I icU you we are lost," said Pedro, in a tone 
 cf anger and ini})aticnco. " You know not tlie unmatched ferocity of 
 our Spanish niaslilfs. They are yet far off; but should they reach 
 us, all the rotten bones in ihe rellcario of San Juan would not save 
 us. if we had them here." 
 
 Take courage, sargento ! I plaoe more reliance upon a strong 
 hand and a bold heart, than all the relicarios in Spain ; but, certes, 
 these are most devilish antagonists." 
 
 Leaping over every intervening obstacle with incredible speed, on- 
 ward came the six mastiff dogs, yelling and growling as if Pandemo- 
 nium had broken loose. Clearing rock and bush at a bound, on tiiey 
 came, their glossy skins and starting eyes shining and gleaming in the 
 light, which showed distinctly one that had outstripped its comrades. 
 Its growls were deep and hoarse ; the snow-white foam was dropping 
 on the grass and leaves from its red open mouth, as it came careering 
 lorward with the fearlessness, ferocity, and determination of some 
 oolical spirit. 
 
 For this one I will reserve my fire," said Stuart, knowing himself 
 iaj be a deadly shot ; " meanwhile blaze away, and aim steadily, brave 
 hearts !" 
 
 " A minute more, and it will be upon us : one must certainly be- 
 come its victim," rephed Pedro : " that victim must be me, if my 
 poniard fails to despatch it. My rashness brought this about, and I 
 am ready to pay the penalty." 
 
 " Pshaw ! never despond. Mark that fellow with the red cap." 
 
 " He is do-wn, senor," replied the other coolly, as he shot the man. 
 dead. " I can die content, I have gained vengeance on Julian Diaz, 
 and I shovild have been no true Spaniard had I not revenged myself." 
 
 " I will hold you but medio Uspanol, if you talk thus. Courage, 
 i»ood Pedro ! I will rid us of this pursuer, — my aim is deadly." 
 
 " Could we but escape this one, our safety would be secured. On 
 the other side of this stream is a cavern, the mouth of which is con- 
 cealed and overgrown with wild vines ; but I know^ it well, as I do 
 every foot of ground hereabout. Let us but gain it, and we can remain 
 there in safety until some assistance arrives. Yv'e are now close on 
 the road that leads from La Nava to Albuquerque." 
 
 They found themselves on the brink of a rushing torrent, which, 
 hurrying down from the summits of the Sierra de Montanches, swept 
 over its rugged channel towards the Guadiana, seeking the most un- 
 fi-equented and solitary gorges and defiles to wander through, 
 
 " Let us jump into the burn, sir," cried Evan, eagerly. Let us 
 jump in, and gang up the water a wee bit, and the sleuth hounds will 
 sune tyne the scent. My faither, the piper, aye tolled that was the 
 only way to get rid o' evil speerits and sic-like, to put a rinnin water 
 between them and yoursel. 
 
 " Right, Evan ! we are almost safe. Plunge in : follow me ! " cried 
 Bonald, springing into the stream, which rose to his waist : the others 
 followed. Keeping close under some v/eeping willows, that thickly 
 overhung the water, they eluded the search of the ferocious dog, 
 which at that instant gave a yell of disappointment as it shook the 
 foam from its chaps, and stood panting and growling on the bank 
 above them. It next ran fiercely to and fro, snorting and snuiiing 
 
THE llOMANCE OF WAK. 9S 
 
 the air, and teu ring up huge pieces of turf with its sharp fangs, as i f 
 to discover the lost prey. 
 
 " We must cross aud gain the cavern now, senor, while the rogues 
 are so far in our rear," said Pedro Gomez, after they had advancea 
 up the bed of the current a little way, treading with difficulty on thc- 
 slippery pebbles. " I know the path, senor ojD'icmle ; Ibllow me 
 promptly, if you please, — now is the critical time to elude them alto- 
 gether." Pedro sprang \nth agility up the steep bank ; Ronald fol- 
 lowed ; but poor Evan, encumbered by his wet tartan kilt, which in 
 the hurry he had neglected to lift hi the Highland manner, stumbled 
 in the centre of the rushing torrent, and at the moment ho fell back- 
 wards the fierce quadruped sprang upon him from the bank above 
 with a wild yell, and seizing him by the thick folds of his fillodh-beir, 
 drew him under water. He was so much disconcerled at linding 
 himself grasped by the terrible foe, that he was only able to utter a 
 faint cry when the stream closed over him ; but yet he struggled 
 fiercely with his gi'owling antagonist. 
 
 " God, he is lost ! " exclaimed Ivonald, when on looking back he 
 beheld the danger of his faithful follower. Half swimming, he hur- 
 ried to the spot, with his broad-sword shortened in his hand, and 
 grasping the dog by the throat, plunged the sharp weapon twice 
 through its body. Its teeth relaxed the hold of Evan's tartan, ana 
 the quivering carcase floated bleeding down the stream ; while the: 
 rescued Highlander, propping himself with his musket (which 
 luckily he had never relinquished), sprang up the bank, where he 
 shook himself like a water-dog, the wet streaming from his bonnet 
 and every part of his dress. 
 
 " Viva ! noble cavalier ; gallantly done ! Pollow me, — this is the 
 cavern," exclaimed Pedro ; and rushing up a steep ascent, they fol- 
 lowed his example in plunging at once through a thicket of dark 
 green bushes, and found themselves in a gloomy hole, the extent or- 
 height of which it was impossible to discover, being involved in utter 
 darkness. The densely thick foliage around the entrance formed u 
 complete exclusion to the light of the moon, which now revealed a 
 dozen or more of their pursuers on the opposite bank of the stream, 
 about which they hunted in every direction for some trace of those 
 they had pursued, and urged on their dogs, which, now completely 
 at fault, ran up and dowTi, scenting among the ^\■illow-trees and 
 shelving rocks, mingling their hoarse baying with the loud and bitter 
 curses of the banditti. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 A SIEGE. 
 
 " They must be somewhere hereabout," cried Cifuentes, with a 
 horrible oath, speakin" at intervals, while he panted ^\ith exhnustion 
 and fatigue. ' But where in the name of Beelzebub can they have 
 concealed themselves ?" 
 
 " They crossed the stream, I can swear," replied one fellow, whilo 
 he loaded his musket. " I salt them descend the bank with my own 
 eyes." 
 
 H 2 
 
100 THE EOMANCE OP WAK. 
 
 ^ " You could scarcely see them well with another man's, Puerco 
 Vadija ; but there is no trace of them on the opposite bank. One of 
 the dogs is missintr, too." 
 
 ' There it lies, floating among the rocks and foam yonder," replied 
 a third rullian. 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 "Ay, dead as Juda.s." 
 
 "'Demonio.t ! How can these cursed fiends have escaped us ?" 
 
 " Fiends they appear to be, certainly. They Avere but three in 
 number, and a hundred shots have missed them> while they have 
 slain some of our best men." 
 
 " By all the might of hell ! " exclaimed Narvaez, in a voice of bitter 
 rage, " they shall not escape us, if Ave once more gain sight of them. 
 To the gay bravo with the large black feathers I bear a hatred that 
 every drop of blood in his coward heart only can quench. To think 
 that they should escape us scathless, after having slain so many !" 
 
 " Poor Julian Diaz ! " said Vadija. " A more jolly monk was not 
 in Estremadura, where there are well nigh six thousand of the cord 
 and cowl." 
 
 "Dios ! it maddens me !" 
 
 " And then the brave Lazarillo de Xeres de los Cavalleros — " 
 
 " How, Yadija ! what of him ? " 
 
 " I found him lying dead in the pathway, stabbed twice in the 
 heart." 
 
 "Ho mi )•€.<! ! Close round me, comrades; we must fall on some 
 plan to seek vengeance. It is evident they have not crossed the 
 stream, — we must have seen them had they done so ; therefore they 
 must be close at hand, and—" The rest Avas lost in the clamour of 
 the others, Avho clustered round Cifuentes, each delivering his opinion, 
 and holding forth obstinately against those of his brother rogues, 
 many more of Avhom Avere coming straggling up from the rear, 
 panting and almost breathless Avith exertion. MeanAvhile the three 
 fugitives had thrown themselves, Avet as they Avere, upon the damp 
 floor of the cavern, happy to find rest and time to breathe Avith some 
 regiilarity and composure. 
 
 From behind their screen of thick foliage, E,onald heard all that 
 passed, and Avatched with increasing interest the picturesque appear- 
 ance of the bandits, Avhom he could plainly discern in the radiant 
 moonlight, that shed its clear cold lustre thi-ough the dark blue vault, 
 Avhere myriads of stars Avere tAvinkling. ^MeanAvhile Iverach, Avho 
 had quite recovered from the dismay caused by his recent immer- 
 sion, Avas busily employed drying his Avctted musket, and preparing 
 for action by fixing a ncAV flint and reloading, rejoicing to find that 
 his thick leather pouch had kept his ball cartridges perfectly dry. 
 
 " Thanks to Santa Maria, we are safe, senors," said Pedro ; " they 
 can never discover this cavern, which is so admirably adapted for 
 concealment. It was in ancient days the retreat of a holy hermit, 
 who AAas droAvned one dark night in the river beloAv, — but that came 
 of eating flesh upon a Friday, they say." 
 
 " I A\-ish Ave had gone to jMajorga with your brother Lazaro ; this 
 cursed adventure would then have been avoided. This hole is very 
 damp, and cold as the grave." 
 
 " But then it is so secure, senor ; and Ave can defend it to the last. 
 and sell our lives dearly should they attack us." Before Ronald could 
 reply,— 
 
fiOilANCE OF WAR. 101 
 
 " Bah ! Lope Ordonez, cried Narvaez, " how should they know 
 of this concealed cavern which you say is up yonder ? Are they not 
 British ? and two of them belong to those savages that go with their 
 limbs bare." 
 
 " The same guide that led them to the ruins of Santa Lucia, might 
 show them the cavern." 
 
 " llight, Ordonez. I thought not that there was so much wit in 
 that empty calabash of thine." 
 
 "They have a Spaniard with them," said he whom they named 
 Vadija ; " I saw the moon reflected on his steel helmet." 
 
 " A dragoon ! Had he a plume of red horse-hair ?" 
 
 " He had ; but I think he has left the half or whole of it amons 
 the bushes in his llight." 
 
 ''' Coramba .' then 'tis either Don Alvaro, or one of his rascally 
 troop ! I shall have revenge for the night they made me spend in the 
 Convento de San Juan at Merida. We will search this cavern, and 
 take a true Spanish vengeance on whoever we find there. Look well 
 to your knives and flints, comrades." 
 
 '■ I perceive," said Ordonez, " some alteration has taken place 
 among the vines which conceal the entrance. They are all broken 
 and trodden down : I can swear they were not so this morning." 
 
 " Then there it is they are concealed. Tie up the dogs ! bind 
 them to the trees ; cross the stream. Let whoever thirsts for ven- 
 geance, follow me ! let whoever is concealed there tremble, for their 
 hour is come !" said Narvaez, concluding with one of those frightful 
 Spanish maledictions with which their conversation was so freely 
 interspersed. The reader may suppose with what feelings of excite- 
 ment and desperation the three weary fugitives beheld their remorse- 
 less pursuers boldly cross the stream to storm their hiding-place. 
 But perhaps Cifuentes and his followers would have advanced less 
 courageously, had they been perfectly assured that those of whom 
 they were in search were really so close at hand. 
 
 _" Thank Heaven, and our own caution, the ammunition is dry," 
 said Ivonald ; and the sixty rounds we have among us will last until 
 to-morrow, if we are sparing and aim well. Let us fire on them as 
 they cross the stream ; 'tis neck or nothing with us now. See that 
 you make sure of your men. I will aim at Cifuentes — the scoundrel 
 with the long feather and high-crowned hat." 
 
 The three muskets at once flashed from the dark cavern, the 
 distant recesses of which echoed to the loud report, while the sudden 
 light filled its windings and craggy nooks, illuminating them for an 
 instant as a flash of lightning would have done. Three of the banditti 
 fell splashing in the middle of the stream, which bore them ofl" from 
 the reach of their comrades, whom this unlooked-for volley had 
 stricken with dismay. Ronald missed Narvaez, owing to a sudden 
 motion of the latter ; but severely wounded Puerco Yadija, who was 
 behind him. Evan and Pedro had both killed their men. 
 
 The wild shrieks and outcries of the dromiing robber, re-echoing 
 among the Avindings of the stream, so greatly appalled and terrified 
 his brother rogues, that, in.stead of advancing to the assault, they 
 re-crossed the stream, fled uj) the bank, and ensconced themselves 
 behind the rocks and trees, seeking shelter from the deadly aim of 
 their concealed enemies, and abandoning Vadija to his fate ; but his 
 last drowning cry, as it came sweeping towards them on the night- 
 wind, found an echo in the heart of his slayer. From behind the 
 
102 THE EOMAls'CE OF TTAB. 
 
 covers where they had posted themselves, a sharp fire was maintained 
 on both sides for some hours, ^^^thout any damage being done. 
 However, the tliree soldados had the best of it in this bush-tighting 
 sort of warfare, as they could aim steadily at a head, or a leg, or an 
 arm, the moment it a])peared in view, without exposing themselves 
 in the slightest degree ; while their opponents took for their object 
 of attack the large dark cluster of vines which concealed the 
 cavern's mouth, and leaden bullets innumerable came whistling 
 through the intertwined foliage, and were flattened against the rocks, 
 or sunk with a loud bang into the soft green turf near its entrance. 
 But Ronald and his friends escaped most miraculously, while the 
 shot hissed often within an inch of their ears, causing a peculiarly 
 unpleasant and tingling sensation Avithin them, which must be ex- 
 perienced to be comprehended properly. 
 
 " Dios mio, senors ; my cartridfjes are nearly expended. I have but 
 six left," cried the dragoon, shaking the little cartridge-box which 
 hung at his shoulder-belt. 
 
 " Heavens ! I have fired my last shot," exclaimed Stuart, in reply, 
 when, on putting his hand into Lazarillo's canvass pouch, he found 
 it empty. " AVe can never hold out till some relief comes. Evan, 
 how stands your pouch ?" 
 
 " Four charges, sir ; deil a ane mair. We maun defend this hole 
 by the cauld aim when a' are gane." 
 
 " Stay — cease firing. Reserve the ten rounds, to be used only in 
 case of some pressing extremity," said llonald, first in English, and 
 then in Spanish. 
 
 " Exactly, senor ; ten rounds are the lives of ten men. Should 
 the ladrones advance again, we will not fire until we are well assured 
 our fire will prove effective." 
 
 " They are more numerous now than before," observed the officer, 
 pushing aside the vines to view their foes. " There are a dozen more 
 high-crowTied sombreros among them ; I see them plainly above 
 the rocks." 
 
 "Santos! O senor, allow me to fire ? " asked Pedro, slapping im- 
 patiently the butt of his carbine. " See yonder felloAV behind the 
 chestnut ; his whole body is visible. Do allow me, noble senor ? 'tis 
 a fair chance." 
 
 " Hold, my fiery sargento ; we must be sparing of what is left us — 
 The devil ! Draw back, man, or you will certainly be shot." 
 
 At that moment six muskets flashed from concealed places, and 
 some of the balls grazed the cone of Pedro's steel helmet, which the 
 waning light of the moon had revealed to them. 
 
 It soon became apparent to the bandits that the ammunition of 
 their antagonists was expended, and their courage and insolence rose 
 accordingly. They shewed their whole figures at times, and fired 
 with greater rapidity than before, shouting, — 
 
 " Mueran los heregos ! Muera, borrachos ! perros ! ladrones ! " 
 and many a loud and deep carajo, together with innumerable other 
 Spanish epithets and maledictions. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, day begins to break," observed Pedro Gomez, as 
 a pale light in the east began to replace that of the faded moon. 
 
 " TV'e shall then get rid of these bawling rascals ; they will scarcely 
 iare to besiege us in open daylight." 
 
 '* I have my doubts as to what course they may pursue, senor," 
 
 "How. Pedro?" 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. lOS 
 
 " Indeed, senor, in the present disorganized state of the country, 
 our Spanish robbers are bold enough to do anything. Throughout 
 the whcle land they are numerous as the leaves of the forest, anc 
 keep up lines of regular communication between one place anC 
 anotlier. We may thank the rrencli invasion for such a state ol 
 things." 
 
 " AATiy are such bands permitted to exist ? " 
 
 " Exist, senor ! Can sliaven monks or lazy alcaldes subdue them ?'■ 
 
 " No ; but armed soldiers may." 
 
 "Lord Wellington does not meddle with tho.ra, as they never 
 juisault his troops; and old JMurillo's soldiers have always work 
 enough on hand without making war on the banditti" 
 
 " Eut how do these fellows come to be so numerous ? Ah, curse 
 that ball ! a narrow esca])e." 
 
 " Senor, war compels our peasantry to liecorae fierce and roving 
 guerillas : from the guerilla to the bandit is an easy transition." 
 
 " I may rejoice that at home, in my own country, we have nothing 
 of that kind to exi)ericnce. 'Tis perfect daylight now: the thieve? 
 are still on the watch. I would they had retired, as I feel ver:/ . 
 jnucli exhausted by fatigue and want of sleep." 
 
 The two soldiers felt in the same predicament^ and the reader ma" 
 imagine the comfort of being drenched by ibrdmg the deep stream, 
 and then being obhged to pass the night in a damp cavern without 
 sleep or rest, after the stirring events, exhaustion, and fatigue of th-3 
 day, and the exposure to the 1)ullet.s of some tTcenty desperadoes for 
 an entire night. Evan vvas seized \'sith a cold shivering, like a fit of 
 the ague, and began to drop asleep in spite of his strenuous efforts 
 to keep himself awake. 
 
 Pedro produced his crucifix, and began to mutter his mornin:^; 
 orisons, mingling with them sundry invectives against ladrones, and 
 wishes for a cup of aquardiente to stimulate him to fresh exertior.-. 
 The fire of the besiegers had now ceased, and they contented them- 
 selves with watching the spot as they sat among the rocks smoking 
 paper cigars, and fixing new Ihnts to their pieces ; while coarse jokes 
 were mingled Avitli the growls and curses of three or _ four that lay 
 bleeding under the shelter of a large block of granite rock, bui 
 untended and uncared for by their comrades. 
 
 "The sun has risen," said lionald, as its bright beams dart'Od 
 through openings in the \ines. "I will reconnoitre round abou':, 
 and perhaps I may discover some signs of our troops, if I can see th^- 
 road which leads to Merida." He received no answer. The mumble - 
 jumble of Pedro's paternoster, and a ])rolonged snore from Iveracli. 
 informed him that his companions in peril were not inclined fo r 
 conversation. Laying aside his bonnet, he crept close to the moutii 
 of the cave, and putting back the foUage softly, cast a careful and 
 keen glance aronnd him. Their besiegers on the opposite bank 
 of the stream were still stationed a»s I have described them, and 
 appeared evidently determined to revenge the fall of their comrades 
 by starving their slayers into a capitulation. Jiehind them, and to 
 the right rose the umbrageous foliage of the cork-wood, intermingled 
 with lofty chestnuts, stretching aAvay in long vistas until lost in. 
 gloom and obscurity. On the left the trees were more scattered, and 
 between the trunks he beheld the wide plain extending away in the 
 direction of Merida, its broad and level extent bounded by a blue 
 undulating ridge of far-ofi' mountains, the line of which lay lowdowu 
 
i04 THE BOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 f n the distance, and formed the boundary of the horizon. The warm 
 lustre of the morning sun -was shed joyously on the wide expanse, 
 calling into life a thousand birds and insects, and causing the wild 
 flowers to raise their dewy heads, and shake the moisture from their 
 opening petals. 
 
 But throughout all the wide prospect which the lofty situation of 
 their retreat enabled him to command, not one human being 
 appeared — no succour was in sight. O how he longed to behold the 
 glitter of arms, the flash of burnished steel, through the dusty cloud 
 which announces afar off the march of armed men ! And his heart 
 beat with redoubled velocity while he gazed upon the band of con- 
 temptible yet dreaded ruffians, whom they had kept at bay the- 
 live-long night. 
 
 The report of a musket, the whiz and crack of a ball, as it was 
 flattened against the hard granite walls of the cavern, made him 
 suddenly withdraw his head ; and the loud shout of savage derision 
 and laughter which arose from those below caused his blood to boil 
 tumultuously, and his heart to swell with anger and impatience. 
 He soon found himself becoming a prey to weariness and exhaustion, 
 o^ving to the fatigue, excitement, and want of sleep which he had 
 endured during the last twenty-four hours, and it was with the 
 utmost diflficulty he refrained from following Evan's example, and 
 falling into slumber. Often did Pedro Gomez recommend him 
 earnestly to do so, reminding him how much might yet have to be 
 endured, and promising to keep faithful watch and ward ; but Eonald 
 dared not trust him, fearing that he too might be overcome with 
 drowsiness, and leave them at the mercy of the bandits. Towards 
 noon, to their inexpressible satisfaction, the besiegers began to draw 
 off by degrees, as if wearied of the affair, and retired into the wood, 
 leaving the ford of the river free." 
 
 " Hio ! our Lady del Pilar ! " cried Pedi'o, exultingly. " Viva ! 
 senor ; they have abandoned their post. Should we get off scathless 
 I vow most solemnly to visit the shrine of our Lady of Majorga, and 
 
 5 resent her A\ith three days' pay, and a new hat of the best kind that 
 ladajoz or Zafra can produce." 
 
 "And should we not get off scathless, Pedro?" said Eonald 
 merrily, as he rose from the ground and stretched his limbs. 
 
 " Then not a maravedi shall she get from Sargento Gomez, — no, 
 diavolo ! " 
 
 Eonald laughed aloud at the Spaniard's ideas of religious gratitude, 
 and aroused his servant, who started up ^\ith agility, grasping his 
 musket, all alive in an instant to the recollection of their situation. 
 
 " Gracious me, sir ! I daur say I have slept. On sic an occasion 
 as this to tempt Providence vA' — " 
 
 " Never mind, Evan, my honest man ; all is right now." 
 
 " But the rei^^ng loons — " 
 
 "Have abandoned their post and fled. We have nothing to do 
 now but to march off, and make the best of our way to some safe 
 place. Had we accepted the offer of the honest muleteer, we should 
 nave escaped a most disagreeable night ; but as the play says, ' All is 
 well that ends well.' " 
 
 " But dinna be ower rash, sir," said Evan cautiously, as he looked 
 through the screen of vines, and surveyed the ground with a sharp 
 glance, " Be weel assured that the caterans are gane for gude and 
 a'/' he added, grasping his master's belt as he was about to descend. 
 
THE liOMANCE OF "WAR. 10,1 
 
 "Gone? I tell you they are so undoubtedly," replied Ronald^ 
 testily. " You see there is no trace of them now, and we had better 
 depnrt from our uneomfoiiiable billet without further delay." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir ; but just bide a wee — bide a wee. "What 
 ca' ye that?" 
 
 While he spoke, the head of a man rose slowly above one of the 
 masses of granite overhanging the forest river, evidently watching 
 their place of concealment. The instant it appeared, Evan levelled 
 and fired his musket, and the black scowling visage of Narvaez 
 Cifuentes withdrew immediately. 
 
 " The scoundrels are only in ambush," said Ronald, in a fierce tone 
 of disappointment. " They are watching us still ! " 
 
 " I do not believe, senor," replied Pedro, " that they would dare to 
 hem us in thus, if the French were not in Merida. The corregidor 
 and alguazils of the city would have been upon them long ere this 
 time." 
 
 "I do not think so. Pew pass this deserted place; and unless 
 some of our troops, when crossing the plain, are attracted towards 
 us by the sound of our arms, we have no other chance of friendly 
 succour." 
 
 " And if not, senor ? " 
 
 " Then nothing is left us but to make one bold dash for our liberty, 
 or sell our hves as dearly as possible. Their design is evidently to 
 starve us out, the revengeful dogs ! " 
 
 " The whole band are rising from their cover. Santos ! had we 
 left this cavern, what a fate would have been ours ! Cuidado, senor ! 
 Carajo ! keep back." 
 
 Scarcely had Pedro spoken, when the report of twenty muskets 
 awoke the echoes of the place, and enveloped the bank, the stream,, 
 and the wood, in white volumes of curling smoke ; and many of the 
 shot whistled into the cave, but luckily fell on the rocks, against 
 which they were flattened as broad as cro"vyn-pieces, leaving, where- 
 ever they struck, a white round star marked upon the stone. Shot 
 after shot was fired at the place, but without better success. A sort 
 of natural breast-work of turf, running across the mouth of the den, 
 completely shielded the three fugitives from the dangerous and 
 well-directed fire of the outlaws, who continued this system of 
 distant warfare for several hours, until towards evening they again 
 ceased entirely, but continued to watch, although they did not dare 
 to come to closer combat with their opponents, the deadly accuracy 
 of whose aim was a sufficient cause to deter them from attempting 
 to carry the cavern by storm. 
 
 " The rogues are indeed very determined, senor," said Pedro. " I 
 hope we shall not have to sjiend another night in this dismal place 
 cowering and shivering like rats concealed in a drain." 
 
 " I trust not ; but when it grows darker, we must make one despe- 
 rate attemi)t to cut a way through them, or perish. I trust to a 
 running fight for setting us free of them." 
 
 " Our Lady of Succour ! would that the hour was come ! The 
 holy father that dwelt here must have liked a damp couch better 
 than I do, demonio !" 
 
 " Doubtless he cheered himself with many a long horn of aquar- 
 diente, if they had it in those days." 
 
 '• Ay, senor, and the place was often enlivened by the presence of 
 the peasant girls of La I*f ava, who came hither 'or confession. The^ 
 
-OG TlIK EOMA.S'CIC OF U'A2. 
 
 are droll dogs, llioso solitary monks. Many a strange story is cuF" 
 rent of the white-bearded Padre of San Jiart<jlomi." 
 
 " What, ho who shows the sulphurous spring of Alange ?'" 
 
 "Ay ; ho is as arrant a knave as we have on this side the pass of 
 Uoncesvalles. IJut the sun is setting now, senor (.'aballero: I see the 
 trees are casting long shadows across the plain towards the east- 
 ward." 
 
 " Haud ye awee, Pedro. As sure a.s I live, I hear — I hear the 
 skirl in o' a bag-pi]->e." 
 
 "A pipe, Evan?" exclaimed Stuart," a pipe? T trus', it is not 
 imagination ! By all that's sacred I hear it too, " he -adde^l -tooping 
 liis ear anxiously to listen. " 'Tis playing— w4iat is the air ?" 
 
 " The 'Haughs o' Croradale.' O, sir, I ken it wcel," replied the 
 Jlji^hlander in a thick voice, while his eyes began to glisten. 
 
 Senor officiale," said Pedro, who had been reconnoitring through 
 the vine-bushes, " there are British troops moving on the plain, — 
 red uniforms at least." 
 
 "Highlanders! Highlanders!" replied Ronald, exultingly, as he 
 beheld a long way olf a party of kilted soldiers marcliing across the 
 dusty plain. The setting sun was shining on the polished barrels of 
 their sloped arms, which flashed and gleamed between the trunks of 
 the trees at every step; even the ribands fluttering from the drones 
 on the pii)er's shoulder could be discerned, and the heart -stirring 
 strain he was blowing came floating towards them on the iitfui 
 wind. 
 
 " What troops are these ? and where can they have come from ? 
 They march towards Merida, and the Trench are there." 
 
 " AVhat regiment they belang to, sir, 1 dinna care : let that flea 
 stick to the Ava'. But they are some o' ocr ain folk, that's certain. 
 I see the braw feathered "bonnet, the filledh-beg, and the gartered 
 hose. O Maister Stuart ! can we no fa' on some plan to \nn their 
 attention ? 'J'hey are fast leaving us behind ; and it' s an awfu' 
 tliocht to be here, hunted in a hole like a >drded tod lo\n'ie, and yet 
 to see the tartan waving in the sun, and hear the wild'skirl of the 
 piob mhor. O'd, sir ! my birse is getting up ; I feel myself turning 
 'wild." 
 
 " Stay, Evan. Unless you want a bullet to make a button-hole in 
 your skin, keep back ! A man on horseback has met them : they 
 have halted." 
 
 " 'Tis a pity the knaves cannot see them, senor. By the elevation 
 of this place, we command a farther view than the jwst wliich these 
 rascals occupy by the river-side." 
 
 " They must have heard the sound of the pipe to which they 
 marched." 
 
 " I do not think so ; they would have fled liad they heard it 
 Sound is said to ;uscend, senor." 
 
 " True—" 
 
 " O'd sir," interrupted Evan, who continued to look through the 
 vines, in spite of one or two shots which were fired at hini, " I would 
 fain ken if thae chields are Gordon Highlanders or no. 1 think they 
 belang to the old Ibrty-twa: ihey have sojue red feathers in their 
 bonnets." 
 
 " lied feathers ? Not one ; they are all black and white : I see 
 Ihem distinctly ; but whether they are the Eoss-shire Bufls or any 
 
THE ROMAJN'CE OF WAR. 107 
 
 of ours, I know not. They are certainly not 42nd men ; their long 
 feathers are all white." 
 
 ■' The gloaming's sae mirk and sae far advanced, that I canna see 
 very weel ; and my een are sair wi' being in the gloom o' this dismal 
 den sae lang." 
 
 " They are British troops ; to what corps they belong we need not 
 care, as all are friends olike. They have piled their arms. Surely 
 they mean to bivouac there for the night. 1 pray to Heaven they 
 may !" 
 
 '• sir ! let us do something to let them ken o' their friends that 
 are here in tribulation and jeopardy. Fire twa or three shots, just 
 to draw them towards us." 
 
 " Not one. We have but nine rounds left, — three each ; and as 
 our lives depend upon them, they must be reserved for a grand 
 attempt as soon as it is dark. Besides, from the way the wind blo\vs, 
 they would never hear the reports at such a distance. The clouds 
 are fast gathering, and I see with pleasure we shall have a very black 
 night. Wa shall certainly escape them, if we are courageous and 
 discreet. What think you, Pedro Gomez ?" he asked in Spanish. 
 
 " Of course, senor caballero. And as you will scarcely know tho 
 way after it is dark, if I have the honour to be again your guide, 1 
 will get you off securely. Should I be shot— a fate which our Lady 
 of Succour avert ! — you will find an easy ford some hundred yards 
 down the stream. You may cross it fearlessly, and gain safely the 
 place where our friends are Ijivouacked so quietly on the plain." 
 
 ■•' We shall scarcely find the s]iot in the dark, even with your aid, 
 Pedro. AVhat marks the ford ?" 
 
 " A stone cross, erected by the monks of San Juan to guide tra- 
 vellers. During a storm, one of the brotherhood ])erished when 
 crossing the stream just below us here, aud they marked the shallow 
 part by a stone, to avoid such accidents in future." 
 
 " But think o' tlie sleuth-hounds, Maister llonald," said Evan, 
 who had been listening attentively to Pedro, and endeavouring to 
 comprehend his Spanish. " I scunner at the very thocht of them, 
 after the douking that ane gied me in the burn belov,-." 
 
 "We must take our chance of these infernals. But be cool 
 and firm ; the time is coming when we must have all our wits 
 about us." 
 
 Their conversation had often been interrupted by a stray bullet 
 from the besiegers, who lounged lazily on the opposite bank, smoking 
 their cigars, tearing hard American hacallao with their teeth, and 
 sucking the purijle wine from a huge pig-skin, which they had 
 pierced in several places ^ith their knives, allowing it to stream on 
 the green sward with a heedless prodigality which showed how easily 
 it had been come by. This employment they varied by venting curses 
 at each other, and at their obstinate opponents, at whom they now 
 and then sent a random shot : and on one occasion a complete volley 
 at Evan's bonnet, which, by way of bravado, he had elevated to their 
 view on the point of his bayonet. A storm of balls whistled about 
 it, and the young Gael laughed heartily at tlie joke. 
 
 "Your bonnet is riddled," said llonald, on seeing the feathers 
 nearly all shot away. 
 
 ■" Deil may care, sir ! the king has mair bonnets than this ane ; 
 and there's plenty ostrich feathers whar thae cam frae," replied he. 
 
103 THE P0MA3STE OF WAR. 
 
 hoistin-? it agnin tlirough the vines; but the Spaniards did not 
 unstc their ammunition upon it a second time. 
 
 The bivouac of their comrades, which they watched with untiring 
 eyes, and other distant objects, faded gradually from their view as 
 the increiising darkness of night deepened around them. The sky 
 grew l^lack, a.s masses of dense and heavy clouds drifted slowly across 
 it ; and the cold Spanish dews began to descend noiselessly on the 
 leaves, which, as the wind died away, hung motionless and still ; and, 
 save tlie nnittering voices of the outlaws, not a sound broke the still- 
 ness of the lonely place but the hoarse brawl of the mountain 
 torrent as it rushed over its stony bed, from which the white foam 
 glimmered through the darkness. 
 
 " Senor," whispered Pedro, " the night is perfectly dark, — ^just such 
 as one would wish for on such an occasion." 
 
 " Then now is our time to sally," was llonald's reply, as he grasped 
 his musket, and slung his claymore on the brass hook of his shoulder- 
 belt, that it might not impede him. " Now or never ; follow me ! " 
 
 He pushed softly aside the foliage, and issued from the cavern. 
 They were enabled to see objects with greater distinctness, owing to 
 the pitchy darkness they had endured in their retreat, where it was 
 so dense that one could not discern the face of the other. Enabled 
 thus to see his way with greater accuracy, Ronald descended the bank 
 of the river in the direction of the stone cross. The others followed 
 with hasty and stealthy footsteps, and in a few minutes they gained 
 the rude column which marked the ford. 
 
 " We are safe, senor caballero ! " exclaimed Pedro, when they 
 stood on the opposite side. " Our Lady of Majorga shall get the 
 three days' pay, a hat of the best Zafra felt, and a pound of wax 
 candles to boot." 
 
 " You are liberal to her ladyship. When are your presents to be 
 given ? " 
 
 " The first time I pass her shrine," laughed the other, " which may 
 not be during the term of my natural life." 
 
 " Yonder is the bivouac," said Ronald, as they scrambled hurrieaiy 
 up the embankment ; " they have lit a fire. How very close upon 
 us it appears." 
 
 " The plain is so level, that distance deceives ; but they are fully a 
 quarter of a mile from us yet." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Evan, overjoyed to find himself safe. " Tak' 
 that, ye ill-faured loons ! " firing his musket in the direction of their 
 foes. 
 
 " Pool ! " exclaimed Ronald angrily ; " how have you dared to fire 
 without my desiring you ? " 
 
 Evan's deprecating reply was cut short by a shout from their 
 baffled enemies, who, firing their pieces at random, rushed hurriedly 
 towards the ford, mingling their outcries with the yells of their dogs. 
 But the unexpected appearance of the large watch-fire blazing on 
 the plain, and the dusky lorms of the soldiery crowding around it, 
 sei-ved completely to check their pursuit ; and ^vith many a hoarse 
 malediction and threat, after firing a volley in the direction where 
 they supposed the fugitives to be, they retired with precipitation 
 into the fastnesses of the cork -wood. 
 
 " What a cursed adventure we have had ! " exclaimed the ofiicer, 
 throwing away the pouch and musket of Lazarillo de Zeres de los 
 Cavalleros, when they halted to draw breath for a few seconds. 
 
THE BOMANCE OF WAE, 109 
 
 ■" Evan Iverach, you are a rash fellow ; by firing that useless shot, we 
 might all have lost our lives. It may also have alarmed the troops 
 yonder, and caused them to get under arms." 
 
 " O'd, sir, never mind ; there's nae folk like our ain folk," replied 
 his follower, capering gaily when the figures of their countrymen, 
 clad in the martial Scottish garb, became more distinct. " O how 
 my heart loups at sicht o' the belted plaid, the braw filledh-beg, and 
 the bare legs o' our ain douce chields." 
 
 " Wha gangs there ? " shouted close by the voice of an advanced 
 sentry, the black outline of whose bonnet and gray great-coat they 
 saw looming through the gloom. " Wha gangs there ? " 
 
 " Friend," replied llonald. 
 
 " Friends, friends, — hurrah ! " cried his follower, rushing upon the 
 astonished sentry, and grasping him by the hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A MEETING. 
 
 Around the ample fire, on which a succession of billets and crack- 
 ling branches were continually heaped, were grouped some seventy 
 or eighty soldiers — Gordon Highlanders, as was evident from their 
 yellow facings and the stripes of their tartan. The fairness of their 
 complexions, and the Dright colour of their untarnished uniform, 
 served likewise to show that they had but recently arrived from 
 Great Britain. Some lay fast asleep between the piles or bells of 
 arms, while others crowded round the fire, conversing in that low 
 voice, and behaving in that restrained manner, which the presence of 
 an officer always imposes on British soldiers. 
 
 The officer himself sat close by the watch-fire, which shone brightly 
 on his new epaulets and other gay appointments. His plumed 
 bonnet lay beside him on the turf, and his fair curly hair glistened 
 in the flame, which revealed the handsome and delicate but rosy 
 features of a very young man — one, perhaps, not much above seven- 
 teen years of age. He was laughing and conversing with the soldiers 
 near him, in that easy manner which at once shows the frankness of 
 the gentleman and soldier, and which is duly appreciated by those 
 in the ranks, although it tends in no way to lessen the respect due to 
 the epaulet. A black pig-skin lay near him, from which he was 
 regaling himself, allowng also some of the sokUers to squeeze the 
 hquor into their wooden canteens. 
 
 On llonald Stuart's approach, the sudden apparition of an officer 
 m the uniform of their own regiment, coming they knew not whence, 
 created no small surprise in the little bivouac ; and the sudden mur- 
 mur and commotion which arose among them, caused the young 
 officer to turn his head and look around him. 
 
 " Ronald — Ronald Stuart ! " he exclaimed, in well-known accents, 
 as he sprang lightly from the green turf, his eyes sparkling \nthsur- 
 ■prise and joy ; " how have you come so unexpectedly upon us ? '' 
 
 '■'Ah, Louis, my old friend ! and you have really joined us to follow 
 the pipe and the drum?" replied Stuart, grasping his hand, and 
 longing to embrace him as he Vv-ould have done a brother ; but the 
 presence of so many restrained liim, and be contented liimseif with 
 
no THE UOMANCE OF WAh. 
 
 gazing fondly ou tlic iiice of bis early friend, and tracing in bis fine 
 features tlie resemblance be bore to liis sister. Tbe expression Mas 
 tbe same, but the eyes and bair of Alice Lisle were dark ; tbe eyes 
 of Louis were ligbt blue, and bis bair Avas fair — of that soft tint 
 between yellow and auburn. His i'eatures of course, possessed not 
 tbat exquisite feminine deb(%acy wbicb appeared in tbe fair face 
 of Alice, but yet tbe family likeness was striking, and pleasing fo/ 
 iloiiald Stuart to contemplate and recognise. 
 
 " He bas ber very accent and voice," tbougbt be. " Well, Louis ! 
 and bow are all at borne among tbe mountains ? Does old Benmorc 
 keep bis bead in tbe mist, as usual ?" 
 
 " All were well wben I left in January last ; and I dare say tbe red 
 deer and muirfowl keep jubilee in our absence, for sad bavoc we 
 used to make among tbem,'* 
 
 Tbe soldiers, to allow tbem tbe freedom of conversation, respect- 
 fully fell back, and clustered round Evan Iveracb, who, after be bad 
 paid bis rustic compbments " to bis auld friend JNIaister Lisle, frae 
 tbe Incb-bouse," began to regale bis gaping countrymen witb au 
 exaggerated narrative of bis late adventures in Spain ; and many a 
 " Hoigb ! Oicb ! Eigb !" and otber Scottisb interjections of wonder, 
 be called fortb as he proceeded. 
 
 After a bearty draugbt from tbe boracbio-skin, many were tbe 
 questions asked and answers given about bome and absent friends ; 
 and Konald's account of bis rencontres and adventures witb Cifuentes, 
 certainly did not impress Louis Lisle witb a very bigb opinion of tbe 
 state of society and civilization generally in Spain. 
 
 "Tbis must be a strani,'e .-ountry," observed he, "wben fellows can 
 rove about plundering and rieving, as Rob Hoy and the Serjeant 
 Mbor used to do in our grandfathers' days. And tbe villains from 
 whom you have sufiered so much are still lurking in that dark forest 
 of cork-trees?" 
 
 " Yes ; their fastness is in the heart of it. If the rules of the ser- 
 vice sanctioned such a proceeding, I would witb this party of ours 
 surround the wood, hunt out the rascals from their lair, and put 
 everv one of them to death." 
 
 ' Eut Lord Welhngton— " 
 
 "Would make it a general court-martial affair. But there is 
 a time for everything, and this Spanish robber and I may meet 
 again.*' 
 
 " Spain appears a wretched country to campaign in." 
 
 "Truly it is so." 
 
 " I liked Lisbon pretty well ; and found much amusement in fre- 
 quenting the assembly room, the Italian opera-house, the theatre, 
 and. circus for the bull-fights." 
 
 "Eaith ! I saw none of these things, Louis; my purse is scarcely 
 so deep as yours. And the public promenades, you visited them, 
 doubtless ?" 
 
 " The trees and shrubbery are beautifully arranged ; but I cannot 
 admire the ladies of Lisbon, they are so little, so meagre and tawny.'* 
 
 "You will like Spain better. Hand me the pig-skin, if you 
 please." 
 
 " I have not been very favourably impressed by what I have seen 
 of it. The roads on our route are all but impassable, — mere sheep- 
 ti'acks in some places ; and the posadas are the most WTetcbed to be 
 imagined." 
 
TilE UUilA^ICE OF "VVAE. IH 
 
 "Kaiher different from the snuj; ' Old George' at Perth with its 
 portly landlord, bowing waiters, and smiling hostess." 
 
 " Ivather so ; and tiresome indeed 1 found the march thus far, — ■ 
 the towns in ruins, and between them immense desert tra<;ks, wher(j 
 neither a house, a human being, nor a vestige of cultivation was U 
 be seen." 
 
 " iiut it was a useless order to march your detachment thus far to 
 the ^vesLward, when the division is retreating. You could have 
 ioiued at Portalagre." 
 
 " I am aware of it ; but to march and join the regiment without 
 delay were the orders given me by the commandant at Forlalagre. Ey 
 niy route, this day's march sliould have ended at Merida ; but a 
 umleleer, to my no small surjjrise, informed us of its being in posses- 
 sion (jf the French : and having no one to consult, I felt at a loss how 
 to act, and halted here." 
 
 " ' Twas rash of tlF ourly old commandant to send so young and 
 inexperienced an oHicer in charge of a detachment through a foreign 
 country ; but those Ibllows on the staff, who skulk in the rear, have 
 never the true interes ■ of the service at heart." 
 
 "And Sir Kowland '■iill is retiring on the Portuguese frontier?" 
 
 " £}i route, I believe, for Ciudad Eodrigo, where Lord AVellington 
 means to give battle to Marmont. The troops are marching from 
 all points to join him, and we may soon have the ^dory of being 
 actors in a general engagement." 
 
 " Well ; and this place, Mer 'ua— " 
 
 " Is possessed by three or four troops of Prench lancers : I .saw 
 them enter last night. You have acted most prudently in halting 
 here, as a skirmish with so numerous a party was well avoided. But 
 we shall probably have the pleasure of seeing them prisoners of war, 
 when our people come up in the course of to-morrow. I shall make 
 a t<jur round the sentries in a few minutes, and see that they are on 
 the alert, and then retire to roost under that laurel-bush : I feel quite 
 worn out with my last night's aflair." 
 
 "You must act for yourself now, Stuart. Should anything occur, 
 you of course take command of the party," replied Louis drily, and 
 in a tone totally different from that of his late observations. 
 
 " Ay, Louis ; I am a senior sub, you know," said llonald, colouring 
 at the other's tone. 
 
 "V/hat sort of a man is Cameron of Passifern?" asked Louis 
 abruptly, after a long pause. 
 
 " A true soldier every inch ; and a prouder Highlander never dre'»7 
 a sword." 
 
 " Pierce and haughty, is he not ?" 
 
 "Yes, but a perfect gentleman withal. Tou will find the most of 
 ours very fine fellows — young men of birth and blood, (ire and anima- 
 tion ; and you \vi\\ be charmed with the appearance of the regunent. 
 ^Tis indee<l a splendid corj^s. " 
 
 Another long and perplexing pause ensued, while an expression of 
 doubt and perturbation began to cloud the faces of both. Need I 
 say that Ahce— Ahce Lisle, of whom neither had yet spoken, was 
 the cause ? Although until now he had disguised it, Lisle's indigna- 
 tion wa.s bitterly aroused to find that Ronald conversed on a variety 
 of topics with an air of lightness, and asked a thousand questions 
 about friends at homo in Perthshire, yet that never once had the- 
 name of Alice passed his hps. His pride was roused, and con* 
 
in THE Romance of ti'ae. 
 
 •sequentlyhe determined not to bethefirstto speakof his sister, andthe 
 
 anger which was swelUng in his heart caused him to assume a distant 
 
 and haughty behaviour towards his friend, who considered it but a 
 
 confirmation of the report which he had seen in the Edinhnrgh 
 
 Journal ; and his mountain i).'ide and indignant feehngs were Uke- 
 
 \\'ise roused, making him, in turn, display a cold distance of manner 
 
 to one whom he had regarded as his earliest and dearest, almost only 
 
 friend and companion — as his very brother. 
 
 And this was the happy meeting to which both had so ardently 
 
 looked forward as a source of pleasure for some time past ! 
 
 ******** 
 
 "Truly," thought Ronald, "my father's old-fashioned prejudices 
 were not Avithout a cause ; these Lisles of Inchavon are not endued 
 with either the sentiments of a(i"ection or honour." 
 
 " Poor Alice !" thought Lisle, at the same moment ; " how have 
 her fond and misplaced affections been trifled with ! Scarcely lias 
 this heartless Highlander (full of his mountain pride and bombast) 
 parted Avitli her, before she is forgotten as utterly as if she did not 
 exist." 
 
 However, they kept these thoughts to themselves, and continued 
 to nurse their minds into a state of hot indignation against each 
 other, indignation mingled with feelings of disappointment and 
 sorrow, especially on the part of Louis Lisle. 
 
 He had produced from his havresack the remains of his last day's 
 rations — a few hard biscuits and some cold meat, on which Ronald, 
 although he had fasted so long, merely made a show of regahng him- 
 self : he felt little inclination to eat, but often applied himself to the 
 wine-skin. After a long and confusing sort of pause, during which 
 both had severely taxed their imaginations for somewhat to converse 
 about, 
 
 " I have heard," observed Eonald, " that your father is again suing 
 for the lonj^ dormant peerage, the title of Lord Lysle." 
 
 " Yes, it IS the case. How heard you of it ? " 
 
 " By a letter from Lochisla. I drink to Sir Allan's health ! I have 
 not seen him since the day I pulled him out of the deep hnn at Cor- 
 rieavon. I wish him every chance of success ! " 
 
 " There is little doubt but we shall carry our point during this 
 session of Parliament : my fathers descent in a direct line from the 
 last lord is now clear beyond a doubt or quibble. He is certain to 
 gain the day." 
 
 " I am sure I shall be most happy " 
 
 "The Earl of Hyndford," continued Louis, in the same cold 
 manner, " is my father's most particular friend, and has some interest 
 
 with the law lords. He is on the ministerial side, and But what 
 
 is the matter?" 
 
 " Nothing, nothing. Is there any more wine in the skin ? I feel 
 very faint after my late fatigue, surely," muttered Stuart, making a 
 tremendous mental effort to appear calm. But the name of Hjmd- 
 ford had caused his heart to leap as it were to his very lips, which 
 quivered as a nervous spasm t\ntched them, while his forehead grew 
 livid and pale. 
 
 "Ronald, what on earth is the matter?" asked Louis, kindly, 
 perceiving the changes of his countenance. " Are you turning faint, 
 or ill?" 
 
THli EOJIANCE OF WAK. Il3 
 
 " 111,— Sick at heart," replied Stuart, scarcely knowing what he 
 said, while he eagerly longed to ask a question— a single question, 
 which he dreaded to. hear answered; but the fierce native pride or 
 his race came to his aid, and the inclination was repressed. 
 
 " For what shall I condescend to mention her name ?" thought he. 
 " To ask in a trembling tone after one wiio has forsaken me thus, 
 becomes me not. Faithless Alice ! neither farewell word, token, or 
 letter has she sent me ; but— but I will be calm !" and he placed his 
 hand upon the little miniature, which at that moment he imagined 
 was pressing like a load upon his heart. 
 
 " Good Heaven, Stuart ! you are certainly very unwell," said 
 Louis, anxiously, his indip.nant feelings givingway to concern. ''What 
 can I do for you?" 
 
 " Oh ! 'tis nothing. It is past— a spasm— the wound I received at 
 Merida." 
 
 " Are you still troubled by it ?" 
 
 " No ; that is— I mean—" 
 
 He was relieved from his embarrassment by an exclamation of sur- 
 prise and intense disgust from Lisle, who suddenly leaped up from 
 the green turf on which they were seated. 
 
 " It is a skull ! " he exclaimed, turning something round and white 
 out of the sod with his foot. 
 
 "A skull?" 
 
 " Yes ; I knew not what it was. I felt something round and sm9oth 
 lying half sunk in the earth, and my hand rested on it for some time. 
 How does it come to lie here ?" 
 
 " No uncommon affair in Spain. It is the head of one of those 
 poor fellows I told you of. I saw him killed here the day Long's 
 brigade of horse drove the French advanced picquet into the cork- 
 n-ood." 
 
 ■' What ! did you not bury them ?" 
 
 " No ; we had no time. The wolves came at night and saved us 
 the trouble." 
 
 " And this is dying in the bed of glory ! " 
 
 " So romancers tell us." 
 
 " Ay, Stuart, 'tis all very fine to read of honour and glory. The 
 tiharge, the encounter, and the victory, in a novel — " 
 
 " When seated in a well-curtained and softly-carpeted rpom, with 
 your feet encased in morocco slippers, and a huge fire roaring up the 
 chimney : but here it is a very different matter." 
 
 " Nevertheless, 'tis a gay thing to be a soldier," said Louis, eyeing 
 liis shining epaulet askance. 
 
 "It is, indeed ! 1 have felt some delicious moments of gratified 
 I)ride since I first donned the red coat,— moments in which I would 
 scarcely have exchanged my claymore for a crown. But this ghastly 
 Heath's head had better be removed. Probably the poor boy it be- 
 longed to, for he was scarcely anything else, had his own bright 
 (h-eams of glory and military renown, and left his sunny vineyards 
 with hopes that one day he should exchange the goat-skin jmch for 
 ihe baton of a marshal of France. If he had such visions, where are 
 they all now ? But let it be taken away. Evan, dig a hole with your 
 bayonet, and bury it deep under the turf." 
 
 This temporary excitement over, the two friends again relapsed 
 into their dry and unfriendly distance of manner. 
 
 I 
 
114 THE B0MA2fCE OF V/AE. 
 
 " Gi'^s me jinollicr cup from the borachio skin ; I Avill drink to Si? 
 Allan's health belbre I compose myself to rest for the night/' said 
 Eonald, anxious to put an end to it by retiring. 
 
 '* Drink, and replenish again, — you are most welcome ; but you will 
 excuse me, Stuart, if I re])ly somewhat coldly to your many expres- 
 sions of regard for my family," replied Louis, assuming a haughtiness 
 of manner which it was impossible to pass over. 
 
 " How so? AVhat mean you ?" asked Ilonald, hurriedly, his blood 
 mounting to his very temples while he tossed the wine-horn from 
 him. 
 
 " To me it appears very singular," began the other in a determined 
 tone, " indeed most unaccountable, that you have never yet inquired 
 for or mentioned one, whom I had ever/ rouBon, until to-night, to 
 believe to be very dear to you, and ever uppermost "n your thoughts." 
 
 " You mean," faltered K-onald — " 
 
 " My sister, Alice, — ^iiss Lisie," said Louis, giving vent to his long- 
 concealed passion and spleen. '' What am I to understand by this 
 singularity of conduct, at once so cruel, so dishonourable, and — " 
 
 "Halt, sir! Stay, — beware what you utter!" rephed Eonald, 
 fiercely, in turn. 
 
 " As her brother, I demand an immediate explanation ! " cried the 
 Dther, starting from the ground, Avhile he grew pale with anger. 
 
 "By heavens ! you shall have none." 
 
 " None ! Do you then — " 
 
 " Speak lower, sir. I am not accustomed to he addressed in this 
 imperious way. Passifern himself would not dare to speak to me 
 thus. Eestrain your manner, or the soldiers will observe it." 
 
 " By the gods !" said the other, in a tone of fierce irony, " I little 
 thought to find that one of the Stuarts of Lochisla, — a family, a 
 house, that have ever prided themselves on their notions of honour 
 and noble feeling, — would behave thus to a gentle and too-confiding 
 gu'l. But I will arraniie this matter at anotlier time." 
 
 "And Lord Hyndford?" 
 
 Louis changed colour evidently. 
 
 " How, ]Mr. Lisle, — how can you thus get into heroics with me," 
 said Eonald, observing it, "and in so bad a cause ?" 
 
 " Cause, sir ! Your conduct is at once unbecoming either a soldier 
 or a gentleman," exclaimed the bold boy, stoutly, " and a stern 
 reckonmg must be rendered at another time !" 
 
 Eonald smiled scornfully, while his eyes flashed, and his trembling 
 fingers involuntarily sought the basket-hilt of his sword ; but he 
 passed his hand ovor his hot throbbing forehead, and subduing his 
 emotions, turned haughtily upon his heel and withdrew. 
 
 And thus ended his first interview with the brother of Alice after 
 their long separation. 
 
 # « « « ^ 
 
 Seeking a solitary part of the bivouac, he laid himself under the 
 shelter of a 'oush, and yielding to the excessive fatigue that oppressed 
 him, fell into a deep sleep, ^vhich A\as destined to be of very shorL 
 duration. Meanv/hile Louis I^isle, unable to enjoy the slumber 
 which sealed the eyelids of the surrounding soldiers, sat listlessly by 
 the flaring fire, watching its red crackling embers for hours, vyhile 
 his young heart was so filled vnt\\ sorrow, indignation, and disap- 
 pointment at ^vhat he considered the altered behaviour of Eonald 
 Stuart, that he could have wept like a child but for very shame. A1i 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAlI. 115 
 
 last, overcome by the wine, of which he had drunk deeply to drown 
 thought, and by the heat of the blazing fagots^ he stretched himseL 
 upon the turf and dropped asleep, to dream ol his happy home and 
 the fair sister he loved so dearly. 
 
 About an hour before daybreak, a time when the chill feeling of 
 the atmosphere increases in Spain, lionald was roused from his heavy 
 slumber by some one shaking his arm. 
 
 " Another shot ! Keep up your fire, Pedro ! " he muttered, not 
 knowing where he was. Holloa ! what is the matter ?" he cried, as 
 the glare of the lire, flashing on the epaulets of Louis, recalled nis 
 wandering ideas. 
 
 " Mr. Stuart, troops are in motion on the plain to the eastward. I 
 considered it my duty to acquaint you," replied the other, and 
 withdrew. 
 
 " They are either our own people, or some IVench party thrown 
 forward from Merida. Stand to your arras, there. Men rouse, 
 rouse ! Piper, blow the gathering. Mr. Lisle, get the men under 
 arms, — let them fix bayonets and load : I will be with you imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Moving in tlie direction of the advanced sentry who had given the 
 alarm, he distinctly heard the rapid tramp of horse approaching 
 towards them along the beaten track — it deserved not the name of 
 road — from ]Merida. 
 
 "Cavalry!" thought he, drawing his sword. "Now then for a 
 solid square : I will not surrender to Dombrouski, Avithout a show of 
 fight, even should he come with all his lancers at his back, in their 
 panoply of brass and steel." At that instant the cavalry halted ; but 
 the darkness was so great, that he could not discern any trace of 
 them save their sabres, which glittered in the light of the watch-fire. 
 
 " Teevils and glaumories ! " shouted the advanced sentinel, a bluflf 
 Gael from the forest of Athole, as he " ported" liis musket. " Wha's 
 tat ? — wha gaes there ?" 
 
 "What the devil does he say? The challenge was German, 
 Wyndhain," said a distant voice. 
 
 " Low Dutch, decidedly," replied another with a reckless laugh. 
 " Perhaps they are some of the chasseurs Britanniqv.es" 
 
 " What would bring them here ? Some of the cacjadores, probably." 
 
 " Who goes there ? What troops are these ?" cried llonald. 
 
 " Holloa ! all right, A reconnoitering party thrown out from the 
 advanced guard of the second division. What are you ?" 
 
 " A detachment for the first brigade." 
 
 "Scots?" 
 
 " Gordon Highlanders." 
 
 " Captain AV'yndham took you for the drowsy Germans," said the 
 oiiicer, riding forward. "All is right, then ; we belong to the 9th Light 
 Dragoons, and General Long sent us forward to discover what the 
 fire on the plain meant. We took you for some of the enemy, a party 
 of whom we captured at IMerida a few hours ago. Lord knows how 
 they came there ! I am sure old Sir Rowland does not." 
 
 " Then it seems the division is on a forced march." 
 
 "Ay, the devil take it ! It knocks up our cattle confoundedly,'* 
 answered Wyndham. The whole column will be here in an hour : 
 but I must retire, and report to Long. Adieu. Party ! threes 
 .about ; forward — trot ! " and away they went. 
 
 Scarcely had five minutes elapsed, when the advanced guards 
 
Il6 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 coM.«i<iins of part of the 0th and 13th Light Dragoons, with tho 
 2iid Hussars of the King's German Legion, came up at an ea.'^y trot. 
 Pieree-looking fellows were these last, — wearing blue uniforms, large 
 heavy cocked-hats, leather jack-boots, and enormous moustaches. 
 The appearance of the brigade of horse, as they passed, was at once 
 striking, martial, and picturesque. The red glow of the blazing lire 
 glittered on the polished harness of man and horse, and the bright 
 blades of the crooked sabres. 
 
 They certainly had not the showy and ball-room appearance of 
 cavalry on home service, yet they were the more military and sol- 
 dierlike. Continual exposure to all weathers had bronzed their 
 cheeks, and turned the once gay scarlet coat from its original hue to 
 purple or black, and the bright epaulets to little more than dusky 
 wire. The canvass havresack and round wooden canteen hung at 
 their backs; and the coarse yellow blanket, strapped behind the 
 saddle of officer and private, did not diminish the effect of the scene. 
 When the morning was further advanced, and the banks of rolling 
 vapour, which for some time rested on the face of the plain, rose into 
 tlie air, Ronald found the baggage of the division close upon the spot 
 occupied by the detachment which he now commanded. A strange 
 medley the train presented. Horses, mules, and asses, laden with. 
 trunks, portmanteaus, bags, soldiers' wives and children, tents and 
 tent-poles, bedding, and camp utensils ; and here and there rode a 
 few officers' wives on horseback, attired in close warm riding-habits. 
 The whole of the long straggling array was surrounded by a guard 
 with fixed bayonets, under the command of a field-officer, who 
 spurred his horse at a gallop towards the party of Highlanders. 
 
 Stuart advanced to meet him. It was impossible to mistake the 
 gigantic figure which bestrode the panting horse, the forest of ostrich 
 plumes waving in his bonnet, or the stout oak staff which he flourished 
 about. 
 
 "Eg>pt for ever!" cried the major, reining in his horse, which 
 shook the sod beneath its hoofs. " Holloa^ Stuart my boy, is ii really 
 vou ? Glad to see you sound mnd and limb again. We thought the 
 French had carried you off. Who are these with you ?" 
 
 " The draft just come up from Lisbon. Allow me to introduce 
 Mr. Lisle, of ours. Major Campbell," said Eonald, presenting Louis, 
 with a stiff formality which stung the younger ensign to the heart. 
 
 " Lisle ? Ah ! glad to see you. Welcome to this diabolical coun- 
 try ! We had a capital fellow of your name Avith us in Egypt. Many 
 strange adventures he and I had at Grand Cairo. He left us after 
 our return home : some relation of yours, perhaps ?" 
 
 " My uncle ; he is a younger brother of my father's," answered 
 Louis, colouring slightly Avith pleasure. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! a devilish fine fellow he was ; but perhaps he is 
 changed by matrimony, which always spoils a true soldier, and cuts 
 up the esprit de corps which we Highland troops have imbibed so 
 Ltrongly. I heard that he had married an English heiress, and now 
 commands some foreign battalion in our serrice up the Mediter- 
 ranean." 
 " The Greek Light Infantry." 
 
 " A splendid climate, their station. Little drill and duty, — wine 
 to be had like water ; and then the white-bosomed Grecian girls, 
 with their bare ankles and black eyes ! Ah ! it beats Egypt, which 
 is a very good place to li\ e in, if one is a sheikh or pacha. And so 
 
THE KOMANCE OF WAll. 117 
 
 yoLi nro really n nephew of my old crony and bottle-companion, 
 Lodowick Lisle ? I remember his fii'st joining ns at Aberdeen, when 
 Ave were embodied, in 17'.-)!. A handsome fellow he was ; standing six 
 feet throe in his shoes ; but I overtopped him by four inches." 
 
 " I have often heard him mention your name— Colin Campbell, at 
 Inchavon— with terms of singular affection and respect." 
 
 " Have you, really ? Honest Lodowick," replied the major, his 
 eyes glistening. " Would that I had something in my canteen to 
 drink his health with ! Did he ever tell you of our march to Grand 
 Cairo, when we were in Egypt with Sir llalpli ? " 
 
 " I do not remember," 
 
 "'Twas a most harassing affair, I assure you." 
 
 "Now for an Egyptian story," thought Eonald, observing the 
 major composing his vast bulk more easily in his saddle. 
 
 " It was sad work, ]Mr. Lisle, marching over dusty plains of burn- 
 ing sand, — the scorching sun glaring fiercely above us in a cloudless 
 sky, blistering and stripping the skin from our bare legs and faces _ 
 while our parched throats were dry and cracked, but not a drop oi 
 water could be found to moisten them with in the accursed desert 
 through which we marched. Our shoes were worn out completely, 
 and the hot rough sand burned our feet to the bone ; and 1 assure 
 you we were in a most miserable state when we halted among the 
 mosques and spiies, the gaudy kiosks and flowery gardens of Grand 
 Cairo, — a place which at a distance appears like a city of candlesticks 
 and inverted punch-bowls. Old Wallace, the quartermaster (a queer 
 old carle he was), was sent about to provide shoes for the corps, who, 
 by his exertions, were in a short time all supplied with elegant pairs 
 of Turkish slippers, embroidered and laced, and turned up at the 
 toes. Droll-looking brogues they were, certainly, for the Gordon 
 Highlanders, in their gartered hose and filleadh-begs ; yet, certes, 
 they were better than nothing. But I was not so lucky as the rest. 
 In all Grand Cairo there was not a pair of their canoe-looking slip- 
 pers to be found which would suit me, — my foot, you see, is a size 
 above a youn^ lady's. And so I might have marched the next day 
 in my tartan nose, had not Osmin Djihoun, a shoemaker (whose shop 
 occupied the very site of the great temple of Serapis, which wa? 
 destroyed by Theophilus the patriarch (as you, having just come 
 from school, will remember), undertaken to produce me a pair of 
 shoes by next morning, under terror of the bastinado and bowstring, 
 which the Sheik-el-Beled, or governor of the city, threatened duly 
 to administer if he failed to do." 
 
 " Well, major ; and your next day's march passed over in comfort ? " 
 asked Ronald, who had listened with impatience to this story. 
 
 " Com])aratively so. Another affair I could tell you of, in whiclj 
 Lodowick Lisle bore a part. It happened at the Diamond Isle. The 
 Diamond Isle, you must know, is a place at the mouth of the new 
 port of Iskandrieh, as the Arabs call the citv of Alexander the Great. 
 
 Old Lodowick and I " 
 
 " The baggage has all passed, major. You will scarcely overtake 
 your command by sunset, if you wait to tell us t?iat story ; it is very 
 iong, but, nevertheless, very interesting. I have heard it some dozen 
 times." 
 
 " A good story," replied Campbell, ccimposedly, " cannot be told too 
 often. Therefore, the Diamond Isle — " but I will not insert hero 
 the worthy major's story, which he obstinately related, and with a. 
 
118 Tnr; ROiLi^■cE of war. 
 
 the tedious jirolixity and feeling of entire self-satisfaction that eveiy 
 old soldier displays in the narration of some personal adventure. 
 
 " By the bye, 8tuart," said he, as he concluded, " have y?ii any- 
 thing in the pig-skin I see ijing near the fire yonder ? " " 
 
 " Not a drop ; otherwise it should have been offered long ago. I 
 .im sorry 'tis empty ; but not expecting visitors, the last drain was 
 squeezed out la.st night." 
 
 " Car a jo ! A^'ell, Lisle, and how are all the dep6t ? How's old 
 Inverugie. and llosse of Beinderig, — the JBar'>a-Roxo, as the dons 
 used to call him ? " 
 
 "All well when I left." 
 
 " Glad to hear so, — ^jovial old Egyptians they are ; many a cask of 
 Islay and true Eerintosh we have drunk together, and, through God's 
 help, many more I hope to drink with them. The very idea of the 
 smoking toddy — the lemons and nutmeg, makes me confoundedly 
 thirsty." 
 
 " Doubtless, major, you had a morning draught at Merida ? " 
 
 " The devil the drop, Stuart ; but very nearly a wame full of cold 
 pewter, — and ounce balls are hard to digest." 
 
 " How ! ■\^alat occurred ? " 
 
 " It was unluckily my turn to be field officer of the guard over 
 this infernal baggage, which, as we are retreating, moves of course 
 in front of the column. AYe advanced as fast as possible to get into 
 Merida, hoping to halt there and refresh. As we approached the 
 bridge, I was drawing pleasant visions of the dark purple mne in the 
 borachio skins at the wine-sellers in the Plaza, and was thinking of 
 the long gulping draught of the cool Malmsey liquor I would enjoy 
 there ; when bang, whizz, came a bullet from a carbine of a French 
 vidette, avIio appeared suddenly before us at the bridge-end. My 
 belt-plate turned the shot, or else there would be a majority vacant 
 at this hour in the Gordon Highlanders. The same thing happened 
 to me once in Egj-pt, when I was there with Sir Ealph. I will tell 
 you how it was." 
 
 " I would rather hear it at the halt, major, if it be ail the same to 
 you," said Eonald, interrupting the prosy field-officer without cere- 
 mony. " Well, and this vidette ? His shot — " 
 
 " Caused a devil of a commotion among my motley command. The 
 ladies shrieked and galloped off, the children cried in concert, the 
 donkeys and mules kicked and plunged, the drivers lashed, and swore, 
 and prayed, while the guard began to fire. I knew not what to do, 
 when up came the 9th and Germans, sword in hand, sweeping on 
 like wildfire ; and entering the city, after a little fighting and a great 
 deal of shouting and swearing, captured a hundred and fifty French 
 lancers, all in their shirts. Their quarter-guard alone escaped by 
 swimming the Guadiana ; but their chef cVescadre, a French colonel, 
 the Baron Clappourknuis, was taken in his saddle. You will see 
 him when Sir Rowland comes np. But 1 must ride hard now, and 
 regain my straggling command, which has left me far in the rear. 
 Adieu, lads, adieu ! " and away he went at a hand gallop. 
 
 In a short time, the long line of dust which appeared in sight 
 annouc.ced the approach of the division ; and the bright steel points 
 of standard-poles, of pikes and bayonets, glanced " momentarily to 
 the sun" as they advanced across the level plain. About a quarter 
 of a mile off, moving forward on the right and left, appeared two 
 dark masses of armed horse — Colonel Campbell's brigade of Porta- 
 
THE EOilllsCE OF WAK. 119 
 
 guesc cavdry, coverinc; tlie flanks of the infantry. Eagerly did 
 Stuart watch the dark ibrest ot waving feathers which distinguished 
 his own regiment, while he awaited their arrival standing apart from 
 Louis Lisle, who eyed him with an expression of anger and disquiet. 
 Since the departure of Camphell, neither had addressed a word to 
 the other, and both felt how exceedingly irksome and disagreeable 
 was this assumed indiiierence, this appearance of hauteur and 
 coldness. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 CASTELLO BRANCO. 
 
 " Well, Ronald, my Ion camarado, and so you are really here, 
 and in safety?" said Macdonald as he came up at the head of his 
 sub-division. " Quite well now, I perceive. You received my letter 
 from your servant, of course ? " 
 
 " Yes. I have a thousand strange adventures to tell you of; but 
 I will reserve them for the halt, 'which I suppose will be at the 
 castle of Zagala. But, meanwhile, let me hear the regimental news." 
 
 " Defer that till the halt also, — talking is dry work. A few rank 
 and file were knocked on the head at Fuente del Maistre ; but the 
 officers, you may see are all present. V,'e feared you wore on you 
 route for France, when we heard that Lombrouski's dragoons were 
 in Merida." 
 " A daring deed it was, for a handful of mten to advance thus." 
 " Daring indeed ! " 
 
 "But then they were Poles, — and the Poles are no common troops. 
 Sad work, however, they have made at Ivlerida. Every shop and 
 house in the Plaza has been gutted and destroyed." 
 
 " ;More shame to the citizens ! A city containing five or six 
 thousand inhabitants, should have made some resistance to so small 
 a party." 
 
 " Ay ; but the cits here are not like Avhat our Scottish burghers 
 were two centuries ago, — grasping axe and spear readily at the 
 slightest alarm. By Sir Rowland's orders, Thiele, the German 
 engineer, blew up the Roman bridge, to prevent D'Erlon from 
 pressing upon part of the 13th, who form the rear-guard." 
 " 'Twas a pity to destroy so perfect a relic of antiquity." 
 " It was dire necessity." 
 
 " Did you see anything of our friends in the Calle de Guadiana, — 
 the house at the corner of the Plaza ? " 
 
 " Ah I Donna Catalina'a residence ? Blushing again ! Why, no ; 
 it was dark, and I was so fatigued when we marched through the 
 market-place, that I could not see the house, and Passifern is so 
 strict that it is impossible to leave the ranks. 13ut I could observe 
 that nearly all the houses above the piazzas are in ruins. However, 
 we have captured nearly every man of the ravagers. A glorious- 
 looking old fellow their commander is, — a Prench chef-de-hataillon. 
 Monsieur le Baron de Clappourknuis, as he styles himself." 
 " Clappourknuis ? That has a Scottish sort of sound." 
 " The name is purely Scottish. I had a long conversation with 
 him an hour since. He is grandson of the famous John Law of 
 Laurieston, and brother of the Prench general, the great ^Marquis of 
 
J 20 THE KUMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 Laurieston. He takes his title of Clappourknuis from some littie 
 knowes, which stand between the old castle of Laurieston and the 
 Prith of Porth. '>Vhat joy and enthusiasm he displayed at sif?htof 
 our regiment, and the 71st ! ' Ah, mon ami !' he exclaimed, holding 
 up his hands. ' Braave Scots, — very superb troupes ! ' he added, iu 
 his broken Endish, and the soldiers gave him a hearty cheer. H^ 
 IS a true Prcncliman of the old school, and has a peculiar veneration 
 i'cr Scotland, which is only equalled by his bitter hatred for England ; 
 and all my arguments were lost in endeavouring to prove to him 
 that we are one people, — one nation now. There is one of the 71st 
 a relation of the Laurieston fomily : I must introduce him to the 
 baron, who seems to have a great affection for all who come from the 
 land of his fathers. — A handsome young man, apparently, this Louis 
 Lisle, our new sub." 
 
 "Very agreeable you'll find him, I dare say," replied Eonald, 
 colouring slightly. 
 
 <* A smart fellow he is, and -will please Fassifern. His harness is 
 mighty gay and glossy just now, but a night's bivouacking— by the 
 bye, he is from Perthshire, is he not ? " 
 
 ' " Ay, the mountainous part of the country, — my own native place. 
 He comes of good family, and we are old acquaintance." 
 
 " Yet you seem to behave very dryly to him : why you have not 
 spoken to him since the corps came up." 
 
 " 1 have my reasons. A few words Avith him last night — I will tell 
 you afterwards," said Ronald in confusion. 
 
 " Pshaw, Stuart ! you should not dishearten a young sub, who has 
 just joined by this sort of behaviour. Nothing disgusts one who has 
 recently left liis liome with the service, so much as coldness on the part 
 of those that he considered his friends. I shall see it made up—" 
 
 " I beg, Macdonald, you will not interfere in this matter," was 
 Honald's answer, with'a vehemence that surprised his friend. " I 
 am aware how I ought to behave to Mr. Lisle : we must be on 
 distant terms, for the present at least." 
 
 " You are the best judge, of course," said jMacdonald, with some 
 confusion. " I merely meant for the best Avhat I said. I dislike dis- 
 cord among brother officers." 
 
 " I am aware that your intentions were good — they always are so, 
 Alister; but change the subject. How did you like Almendralejo ?" 
 
 "Not well: a dull place it is, and the dons are very quarrelsome." 
 
 "Ay, I remember your letter mentioning two brawls with the 
 inhabitants." 
 
 "Your servant, Mr. Iverach, and that rogue Mackie, of your own 
 company, were the heroes of one." 
 
 " I should be glad to hear the story now. My servant has often 
 mentioned it, when I had neither time nor inclination to listen." 
 
 " There is an old abogado at Almendralejo," answered Macdonald, 
 " a fierce old fellow he is, with bristling moustaches twisted up to his 
 verj' ears, and eyes like those of a ha\vk— the Senor Sancho de los 
 (ilarcionadas, the peo])lc there call liini, for shortness, but he has a 
 name as long as a Welsh pedigree. This lawyer dwells, of course, in 
 one of the best houses in the town, and on him Iverac'h rmd Angus 
 Mackie were billeted. He has a daughter, whom I have seen on the 
 Prado, a fine-looking girl, with regular features, Spanish eyes, and 
 ^3 Danish ankles— quite be^vitching, in fact; and although she has not 
 
ROMANCE OF 
 
 Donna Catalina's stately and splendid appearance, yet slip is plum 
 as a partridge, and rosy, pretty, and merry as can be imagined. Her 
 beauty completely vanquished the heart of Mackie, on whom she 
 had cast favourable glances, for he is 'what Campbell calLs one of the 
 duchess's picked men (a strapping Blair-Athole man, from the- 
 mountain of Bein jMeadhonaidh). 
 
 " A very agreeable correspondence ensued between tlupm, but how 
 they managed I cannot tell, as neither knew a word of the other's 
 lang-aage, and Angus speaks more Gaelic than English ; so I suppose 
 they conversed by the eyes instead of the mouth. 
 
 " There is a French writer who exclaims, ' Ah ! what eloquence is 
 so powerful as the language of two charming eyes!' and very pro- 
 bably Tilaster Angus (whom I now see trudging away yonder with 
 his knapsack on) found this to be the case. At last the (ihoriado 
 began to suspect what was going on, and his blood boiled up at the 
 idea that the Scottish private soldier should have the presumption to 
 address his daughter, and the treacherous old fox hatched a very nice, 
 but very cowardly plan for cutting of!" poor Mackie. 
 
 "The Senora Maria he put securely under lock and key, and 
 despatched a message to her cavalier that she Avould expect him that 
 evening after vespers, sending at the same time a stout ladder of 
 ropes, Avith wlutli he was to scale her Mindow. The plan succeeded to 
 admiration. The savage old attorney and some five or six kinsmen, 
 mufiled and masked, lurked in a dark place, grasping their knives 
 and crucifixes, for a Spaniard never thinks he can commit a murder 
 comfortably without having his crucifix about him : if it contains a 
 piece of the true cross, so much the better. Mackie came to the 
 rendezvous, but attended by his comrade Iverach, and both had 
 luckily brought their side arms ■svith them. Scarcely had the un- 
 suspecting gallant placed his foot on the first step of the ladder, Avhen 
 the concealed assassins rushed upon him, dagger in hand, from their 
 ambush. The Highlanders drew and fought manfully with their 
 bayonets, ran two through the body, and after receiving a fe^^' cuts 
 in return, put the rest to flight ; and so the matter ended for the 
 night. But a terrible row was made about it next day. Cameron's 
 quarters were besieged by all the alcaldes, alguazils with their hal- 
 berds, abogados, and" other rogues in the town, headed by the cor- 
 regidor, demanding revenge. Fassifern made a short matter of it with 
 them, and desired the guard to drive them out. I know not how it 
 might ultimately have ended, if the route for Villa Franca had not 
 arrived just then, and put a stop to the aflair by our sudden march. 
 But since that occurrence I understand Mackie has not been the 
 same sort of man he was — always grave, absorbed, and thoughtful. I 
 fear he will give us the slip, and desert. The old lawyer's daughter- 
 seems to have bewitched him. He has more than once asked leave 
 to return to Almendralejo, although he knows that it is now in pos- 
 session of the enemy, and that his death is certain, should he be seen 
 there again." 
 
 During the five days of the weary forced march across the Spanish, 
 frontier to the town of Portalagre, in Portugal, the same distance of 
 manner and reciprocal coolness which we have described in a pre- 
 ceding chapter, subsisted between Ronald Stuart and young Lisle : 
 and although secretly both longed to come to some satisfactory, and: 
 if possible a friendly explanation, their Scottish pride and stubborn- 
 ness forbade them both alike to make the first advances towards a 
 
122 itOMAXCE OF ViXH. 
 
 reconciliation. Louis had written to his sister, but hadsaid DothinR 
 of Honald, further than that he was well, &c. 
 
 At Niza, Ronald parted with Pedro Gomez, who had acconi])anied 
 him thus far, but whom he now despatched to join his troop in a 
 neifihbouring province, giving him in charge a long letter to Dou 
 Alvaro. _ The morning the first brigade entered Niza, they found the 
 greedy inhabitants busily employed in pulhng their half-ripe 
 oranges from the trees, and carrying them olf in baskets Avith 
 the utmost expedition, lest some of those soldiers — soldiers who 
 were shedding their blood to rescue the Penuisula from the iron 
 grjisp of Napoleon ! — shoidd have plucked a few w passing under the 
 groves. 
 
 That night a part of the Highland regiment were quartered in 
 the convent of San Miguel, and great was the surjJrise of the reve- 
 rend Padre Jose, and the rest of the worthy brotherhood, to find 
 themselves addressed in pm-e Latin by private soldiers, who could 
 not speak either Spanish or Portuguese. But to those who know 
 the cheapness of education at our Scottish village schools, this will 
 excite little wonder. 
 
 Next day the troojps entered Castello Branco, a fortified place, 
 situated on the face ot a rugged mountain a couple of leagues north 
 of the river Tajo, or Tagus, a city of great importance in bygone 
 days. Its streets are narrow, close, and dirty, like those of all Portu- 
 guese towns, where the refuse of the household hes piled up in front 
 of the street-door, where lean and ravenous dogs, ragged mendicants, 
 and starving gitanas contest the possession of the \vell-picked bones 
 and fragments of melons and pumpkins, that lie mouldering and 
 rotting, breeding flies and vermin innumerable under the influence 
 of a burning sun. Water is conveyed to the houses, or, flats, as in 
 ancient Edinburgh and Paris, by means of barrels carried on the 
 backs of men from the public fountains. The streets are totally 
 destitute of pa\ing, lamps, or police ; and by night the passenger, 
 unless he goes well armed, is exposed to attacks of masked footpads, 
 or annoyed by the bands of hungry dogs which prowl ia hundreds 
 about the streets of every Portuguese to^vn. 
 
 Major Campbell and Stuart, witli some of the ofHcers, were seated 
 in one of the best rooms of tneir billet, — the most comfortable 
 posada the place possessed, and truly the Peninsular inns are Hke no 
 others that I know of. As they were in the days of liiiguel Cer- 
 vantes, so are they still : in everything Spain and Portugal are four 
 hundred years behind Great Britain in the march of civilization. 
 
 In a posada, the lower story, which is always entered by a large 
 round archway, is kept for the ac(;ommodation of carriages and 
 cattle. It is generally one large apartment, like a barn in size, the 
 whole length and breadth of the building, floored ■nith gravel, and 
 staked at distances with posts, to which the cattle of travellers are 
 tied, and receive their feed of chopped straw, or of Indian corn which, 
 has become too rotten and mouldy for the use of human beings. 
 The whole fabric is generally ruinous, no repairs being ever given ; 
 the furniture is always old, rotten, and decajed, — the chairs, beds, 
 &c., being but nests for myriads of insects, which render guests sufli- 
 ciently uncomfortable. Sahanas limpitas (clean sheets) are a luxury 
 seldom to be had ; and provisions, a thing scarcely to be thought of 
 in a Spanish inn. However, as Senor E-aphael's posada was at some 
 distance from the actual seat of war, it was hoped that his premise* 
 
THE EOMANCE OF AVAE. 123 
 
 "svouid be better victualled, and he was summoned by the stentorian 
 voice of Campbell, the house being destitute of bells. 
 
 " Well, Senor d.e Casa," said the major, as ho stretched himself 
 along half a dozen hard-seated chairs to rest, " what have you in the 
 larder ? Anything better than castanas quemadas and cold water ? 
 — agua Tiermoisissima de lafuente, as they say here ?" 
 
 " Si, si, noble caballero," replied the patron, as he stood with his 
 ample beaver in his left hand, bouing low at every word, and laying 
 his right hand upon his heart. 
 
 " Ah ! Well, then, have you any beef or mutton, — roasted, boiled, 
 or cooked in any way ?" 
 
 " No senor ojfficiale ; no hay." 
 
 " Ari.y ."^h ? You are near the Tajo." 
 
 " Si, haccallao." 
 
 " Pho ! horabre ! "What, have you nothing -else ? Any fowl ? " 
 
 " No hay." 
 
 "Any fruit?" 
 
 ''No hail." 
 
 " Diavolo ! Senor Raphael," cried Campbell angrily, after receiv- 
 ing the same reply to a dozen things he asked for ; " what on earth 
 have you got, then?" 
 
 " Siievos y tocino, senor mio." 
 
 " Could you not have said so at once, hombre ? Ham and eggs, 
 — excellent ! could we but have barley-meal bannocks and v/Iiisky 
 toddy with them ; but here one might as well look for nectar and 
 the cakes that Homer feeds his gods with. Any Malaga or sherry ? " 
 .. "Both, senor, in abundance." 
 
 " Your casa seems well supplied for a peninsular one, — j'^aiz y cehol- 
 las, cursed onions and bread, with bitter aauardient.e, being gene- 
 rally the best fare they have to offer travellers, however hungry. 
 But -presto 1 Senor Raphael ; look sharp, and get us our provender, 
 for saving a handful or so of rotten castanas, the devil a morsel have 
 we tasted since we left Niza yesterday. And, d'ye hear, as you value 
 the reputation of your ca^ja, put not a droj) of your })oisonous garlic 
 among the viands ! " 
 
 As the evening was very fine, they experienced no inconvenience 
 from the two unglazed apertiires where windows ought to have been, 
 through which the soft wind blew freely upon them. The apart- 
 ment commanded a view of an extensive plain, through which 
 wound the distant Tagus, like a thread of gold among the fertile 
 fields and enclosures of every varying lint of green and brown. 
 Golden, is the term applied to the Tajo, and such it really appeared, 
 while the saffron glow of the western sky was reflected on its current, 
 as it wound sweeping along throtigh ample vineyards, groves of 
 orange and olive-trees, varied here and there by a patch of rising 
 corn. Par down the plain, and around the base of the hill of Castello 
 Branco, the red fires, marking the posts of the out-lyin^^ picquets, 
 were seen at equal distances dotting the landscape ; and their white 
 curling smoke arose through the green foliage, or from the o])en 
 corn-field, in tall spiral columns, melting away on the calm evening 
 sky. 
 
 "A glorious view," observed Ronald, after he had surveyed it for 
 some time in silence ; " it reminds me of one I have seen at home, 
 where the blue Tay winds past the green carse of Gowrie. That hill 
 yonder, covered with orange-trees to its summit, miirht almost pas? 
 
12-1, aOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 for the hill of Kinnoul with its woods of birch and pine, and those 
 stony fragments for the ruined tower of Balthayock. " 
 
 " Truly the scene is beautiful ; but its serenity might better suit 
 an English ta.ste than ours," replied Macdonald. 'Tor my owk- 
 part, I love bettor the wild Hebrides, with the foaming sea roaring 
 between their shores, than so quiet a scene as this." 
 
 " Hear the western islesman ! " said an oflicer, laughing. " He i.s 
 never at home but among sterile rocks and boiling breakers." 
 
 " You are but southland bred. Captain Bevan," answered Mac- 
 donald gravely, "and therefore cannot appreciate my taste.'' 
 
 '■ The view — though 1 am too tired to look at it — is, I dare say, 
 better than any I ever saw when I was ^vith Sir Ealpli in Egypt 
 where the scenery is very fine." 
 
 "The sandy deserts excepted," observed Bevan. "Many a day 
 marching together, we have cursed them, Campbell." 
 
 " Of course. But where is that young fellow, Lisle ? I intended 
 to have had him here to-night, for the purpose of wetting his com- 
 mission in Senor Eaphael's sherry." 
 
 " He is at Chisholm's billet, I believe. They have become close 
 friends of late," replied another officer, who had not spoken before. 
 
 " So I have observed, Kennedy ; he is the nephew of an old Egyp- 
 tian campaiimer, and I love the lad as if he Avas a kinsman of my 
 own. But here come the S'ivres!' Smoking hot and tempting, 
 faith ! especially to fellows so sharply set as we are. Senor Raphael 
 deserves a pillar like Pompey's erected in his honour, as the best 
 casa-keeper between Lisbon and Carthagena." 
 
 Wliile the talkative major ran on thus, the "maritornes" of the 
 establishment brought in the supper, or dinner, on a broad wooden 
 tray, and arrayed it on the rough table — cloth there was none — to 
 the bertt advantage, flanking the covers with several leathern flasks o* 
 sherry, brown glazed jugs "of rich oily Malaga, and round loaves ot 
 bread from the Spanish frontier. 
 
 " Now, this is what I consider being comfortable," observed the 
 major, as he stowed his gigantic limbs under the table, and gazed on 
 the dishes with the eager eye of a hungry man who had tasted nothing 
 for twenty-four hours. 
 
 " "We have been lucky in receiving a billet here, and are much 
 indebted to the worshipful alcalde," said Bevan, interrupting a silence 
 which nothing had broken for some time, except the clatter of plates 
 and knives. '' A little more of the ham, major." 
 
 " And huevos ? With pleasure. But eat away, gentlemen ; be 
 quite at home, and make the most of a meal when you can get one. 
 I'll trouble you for that round loaf, Kennedy." 
 
 " Splendid bread, the Spanish." 
 
 " I have seen whiter in Egypt, when I used to visit the house of 
 Captain Mohannned Djedda, at Alexandria " 
 
 " A visit nearly cost you your life there once, major." 
 
 '■' You remember it, Bevan ; so do I, faith, nor am I likely to forget 
 it. But it is too soon for a story yet ; otherwise I would tell the 
 affair to the young subs. Help yourself plentifully, Stuart. Lord 
 knows when we may get such another meal ; so store well for to- 
 mor rone's march." 
 
 " I am hungry enough to eat an ostrich, bones and all, I do be- 
 \ieve," said Kennedy. And in truth, this fare is the most delicious 
 
THE EOMA^'CE OF AVAE. 125 
 
 I have seen since I first landed at the Castle of 13elem, some eighteen 
 months ago. 
 
 "Simple fare it is, indeed," replied the major. '"Tis very well: 
 the Senor Raphael's tocino is excellent, being cured probably for his 
 own use ; but his eggs are not so fresh as I used to get from my o^v^a 
 roosts at Craigtianteoch, near Inverary." 
 
 " A deuced liard name your estate has, major. A little more ham, 
 if 3-ou please." 
 
 " Few can pronounce it so well as myself, Bevan. Craig'fi'anteoch, 
 — ikat is the proper accent." 
 
 "Meaning the rock of the house of Fingal, when translated?" 
 observed llonald. 
 
 " Right, Stuart, my boy ; the rock of the king of Selma." 
 
 " It has been long in your family, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Since the year 400. You may laugh, Bevan, being but a Low- 
 lander, yet it is not the less true. Since the days of the old Dabriadic 
 kings, when the great clan Campbell, the race of Diarmid, first 
 became lords of Argyle," replied the major, with conscious i)ride, as 
 he pushed away his plate and stretched himself back in his chair, — 
 "Ardgile. or Argathelia, as it was then called. My fathers are 
 descended in a direct line from Diarmid, the first lord of Loch ow." 
 
 "A long and noble pedigree, certainly," observed jMacdonald, with 
 a proud smile, becoming interested in the conversation. '" It out- 
 herods mine, though I come of the line of Donald, the lord of the 
 Western Isles." 
 
 "Come, come, gentlemen, never mind descents: none can trace 
 further up than Adam. Let us broach some of these sherry bottles," 
 said Bevan, impatiently. " Pedigrees are too frequently a subject for 
 discussion at Highland messes, and were introduced often enough at 
 ours, when we had one. Yesterday, at Niza, at the scuttle there, 
 which we called a dinner, the colonel and Old Macdonald nearly 
 came to loggerheads about the comparative antiquity of the Came- 
 rons of Fassifern and Locheil." 
 
 "D— n all pedigrees !" cried Kennedy, uncorking the sherry. " I 
 am not indebted to my forbears the value of a herring scale !" 
 
 "These are matters only for pipers and seanachies to discuss," said 
 Eonald, affecting a carelessness which he ^vas very far from feeling. 
 Few, indeed, cherished with a truer feeling of Highland satisfaction 
 the idea that he came of a royal and long-descended line. "Let the 
 subject be dropped, gentlemen. Fill your glasses : let us drink to 
 the downfall of Ciuaaf^ Eodrigo !" 
 
 "Well said, Stuai.,'' echoed Kennedy; "push the Malaga this 
 way," 
 
 ' I'll drink it Avith all my heart," said the major, filling up his 
 glass ; " let it be a bumper, a brimming bumper, gentlemen, the 
 downfall of Ciudad Eodrigo !" 
 
 "Pretty fair sherry this, major." 
 
 " But it has all the greasy taste of the confounded pig-skin." 
 
 "Why the deuce don't the lazy dogs learn to blow decent glass 
 bottles?" 
 
 " Try the Blalaga. Fill uj., and drink to the hearts we have left 
 Dehind us!" 
 
 " Eight, jMacdonald,— an old Scottish toast," ansvt-ered Campbell, 
 emptying his horn. " But for Ciudad Eodrigo, I almost wish that 
 
126 THE BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 the plnoe may bold out until we encounter old Marmont, and thrash 
 his legions to our heart's content, eh ! Bevan ?" 
 
 " A few days' march will bring us close on Lord Wellington's 
 head-qunrters ; and should the i)lace not capitulate by that time, we 
 shall probably a^t Vimieraover again in the neighbourhood of Ciudad 
 liodrigo. " 
 
 ''I shall be very happy to see something of the kind," observed 
 Ronald. "I have been six months in the Peninsula, and have 
 scarcely heard the whiz of a French bullet yet." 
 
 " Should we come within a league of Marmont, your longing for 
 lead will probably be gratified — as we used to say in Egj'pt, especially 
 should he attempt to raise the siege. But drink, lads ; talking makes 
 cue very thirsty." 
 
 " I am heartily tired of our long forced marches by night and day, 
 and was very glad when, from the frontiers of Portugal, I looked 
 back and saw the wide plains of Spanish Estremadura left so far 
 behind." 
 
 "Many a weary march we have had there, Alister." 
 
 "And many more we shall have again." 
 
 " jSever despond," said Bevan. " With honour and the enemy in 
 our front — " 
 
 "As we used to say in Egypt— 'Both be !' Carajo ! Pll thank 
 
 you for the sherry." 
 
 "But the troops of the Count d'Erlon — " 
 
 " Are arrant cowards, I think. They have fled before the glitter 
 of our arms Avhen three leagues off: the very flaunt of our colours is 
 quite enough for them, and they are otf dodi3le quick ! " 
 
 "The soldiers of la helle France behaved otherwise in Egypt, when 
 I was there with g-allant old Sir lialpli. But we shall come up with 
 them some time, and be revenged for the trouble they have given us 
 in dancing after them between Portalagre and Fuente del MaLstre." 
 
 " That was a brilhant affair," said Macdonald, " and you unluckily- 
 missed it, Stuart." 
 
 "Ay ; but I hope Marshal Marmont will make me amends next 
 week ; and if ever Senor Nai-vaez comes within my reach — " 
 
 " Or mine, by Heavens ! he shall be made a mummy of !" 
 
 " You could scarcely reduce him to anything more disagreeablej 
 Alister. I sa,Av some in Egyijt a devilish deal closer than I relished, 
 said Campbell, filling his glass as if preparing for a story, while a 
 smile passed over the features of his companions, Avho began to v.\read 
 one of those long narratives which were readily introduced at all 
 times, but especially when wine was to be had, and the evening was 
 far advanced. The smile, however, %vas unseen, as the dusk had in- 
 creased so much that the gloomy apartment was almost involved in 
 darkness. But without, the evening sky was so clear, so bhie and 
 spangled, the air so cool and balmy, and the perfume wafted on the 
 soft breeze from the fertile plain below so odoriferous, that they 
 would scarce have exchanged the ruinous chamber of the posada in 
 which they were seated for the most snug parlour in the most 
 conifortable English inn, with its sea-coal fire blazing through the 
 bright steel bars, the soft hearth-rug in front, the rich carpet around, 
 and the fox-hunts framed on the wall. 
 
 " Mummies, indeed !" continued the field-ofiicer ; "I almost shiver 
 at the name!" 
 
THE EOilANCE O? WAS. 127' 
 
 "How SO, major?" asked lionald. "What! a 13 ritisli grenadier 
 like you, that would not duck his head to a forty-six ]oound shot ?" 
 
 "Why, man ! I would scorn to duck to a sliot from auld Mons 
 Meg herself ; but then a mummy, and in the dark, is anot her afiair 
 altogether. I care nothing about cutting a man down to the breeks, 
 and did so at Corunna, in Egypt, and in Holland, more than once ; 
 but I am not over fond of dead corpses, to tell you the truth, and 
 very few Highlandmen you'll find that are. Have I never before 
 told you of my adventure with the mummies, and the iulzie that 
 Passifern and I had at Alexandria ?" 
 
 "No— never!" 
 
 " Bevan knows all about it." 
 
 " He was in Egypt ' with Sir Ealpli,' you know. It must be some- 
 thing nev,^ to us, major." 
 
 " I'll tell you the story ; meantime light cigars and fill your glasses, 
 for talking is but dry work, and there's sherry enough here — not to 
 mention the Malaga — to last us till reveille, even if we drank as hard 
 as the King's German Legion." 
 
 His companions resigned themselves to their fate, — three of them 
 consoled by the idea that it was one of the major's stories they had 
 never heard before. Cigars Avcre promptly lighted ; and the red 
 points, glowing strangely in the dark, wore the beacons which dimly 
 shoAved each Avhere the others sat. 
 
 " Drink, gentlemen ! fill youi' glasses, fill away, lads. Hov/ever, I 
 must tell you the afiair as briefly as possible. I am field-officer for 
 the day, and have to visit the quarter-guards and cursed out-picquets 
 in the plain below : but I will go the rounds at ten, and desire them 
 to mark me at two in the morning. They are all our own fellows, 
 and will behave like Trojans, if I wish them." 
 
 " Well, Campbell, the story." 
 
 After a few short pulls at the cigar, and long ones at his wine-cup, 
 the major commenced the story, which is given in the following chap- 
 ter, and as near the original as I can from recollection repeat it. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 THE major's STOEY. 
 
 " We are a fine regiment as any in the line ; but I almost tiimk 
 we Avere a liner corps when we landed in Egypt in 1801. We had 
 been embodied amoni; the clan of Gordon just six years before, and 
 there was scarcely a man in the ranks above five-and-twenty years 
 of age, — all fiery young Highlanders, raised among the men of L*kir- 
 Athol, Braemar,, Stratudu, Garioch, Strathbogie, and the duke's own 
 people, the ' gay and the gallant,' as they were styled in the olden 
 time. 
 
 '• There is a story current that the cori>s was raised in consequence 
 of some Viuyor between the Duchess of Goi'don and the Prince of 
 Wales, about who would muster a regiment in least time ; and, cer- 
 tainly, her grace got the start of his royal highness. 
 
 "The duchess (here's to her health, — a sjjlendid woman she is !) 
 .'iperintended the recruitin<^ department in famcus style, — one 
 
128 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 worthy Camilla herself ! With a drum and life — oftener with a scorA 
 of pipers strutting before her, — cockades flaunting and claymores 
 U'leaminti, I have seen her jiarading through the Highland fairs and 
 cattle-trysts, recruiting for the ' Gordon Highlanders ;' and a hearty 
 kiss on the cheek she gave to every man who took from her owii 
 \vhite hand the shilling in King George's name. 
 
 " Hundreds of jjicked mountaineers — regular dirk and claymore 
 men — she brought us ; and presented the battalion with their colours 
 at Aberdeen, where we were lully mustered and equipped. Trotting 
 her horse, she came along the line, wearing a red regimental jacket 
 with yellow facings, and a Highland bonnet with an eagle's wing in 
 it : a hearty cheer we gave her as she came prancing along with the 
 staff. I attracted her attention first, for I was senior sub of the 
 grenadiers, and the grenadiers were always lier favourites. I would 
 tell you what she said to me, too, about the length of my legs, but it 
 ill becomes a man to repeat compliments. 
 
 " Eight proud I was of old Scotland and the corps, while I looked 
 along the serried line when we drew up our battle-front on the sandy 
 beach of the 13ay of Aboukir. Splendid they appeared, — the glaring 
 sun shining on their plaids and plumes, and lines of burnished arms. 
 Gallant is the garb of old Gaul, thought I, and Avho would not be a 
 soldier ? Yes, I felt the true esprit du corps burning within me at 
 the sight of our Scottish blades, and equally proud, as a Briton, at 
 the appearance of other coii)s, English or Irish, as they mustered on 
 the beach, beneath St. George's cross or the harp of old Erin. The 
 tri -colours and bayonets of France were in our front, and the moment 
 was a proud one indeed, as we advanced towards them, animated by 
 the hearty British cheers from our men-of-war in the bay. All know 
 the battle of Alexandria. AVe drove the soldiers of Bonajjarte before 
 us 'like chaff before the wind;' but the victory cost us dear: man. 
 3i bold heart dyed the hot sand with its gallant b ood, and among 
 them our countryman, noble old Abercromby 
 
 "Poor Sir Ealpli ! AVhen struck by the' death-shot, I saw him 
 reel in his saddle, his silver hair and faded uniform dabbled A\ith his 
 blood. His last words are yet ringing in my ears, as, waving his 
 three-cocked hat, he fell from his horse, — 
 
 " ' Give them the bayonet, my boys ! Forward, Highlanders ! 
 Eemember the hearts and the hills we have left behind us !' 
 
 " Here's his memory in Malaga, though I would rather drink it in 
 Islay or Glenlivet. We did give them the bayone\ and the pike too, 
 in a style that would have done your hearts good to have seen. It 
 ■was a glorious \-ict-ory, — Vimiera, the other day, was nothing to it, — 
 and well worth losing blood for. That night we hoisted the union 
 on the old Arab towers of Aboukir, and Lord Hutchinson took com- 
 mand of the army. On the 18th September, 1801, we placed Alex- 
 andria in the power of the Turks. Our wounded we stowed aAvay in 
 the mosques and empty houses ; our troops were quartered on the 
 inhabitants, or placed under canvass without the city walls, and we 
 found ourselves while there tolerably comfortable, excepting the 
 annoyance we suffered from insects and the enervating heat, which 
 was like that of a furnace ; but the kamsin, or ' hot wind of the 
 desert^,' one must experience to know what it really is. 
 
 " When it begins to blow^, the air feels perpetually like a blast 
 xushing from a hot fire, and the atmosphere undergoes a change suffi- 
 cient to stril<e even the heart of a lion with terror. The lowering sky 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE, 129 
 
 becomes dark with, clouds of .a bloody hue, and the sun, shorn of itf 
 rays and its glory, seems to float among them hke a round ball of 
 glowing purplCj while the whole air becomes dense and dusty, ren- 
 dering respiration out of doors almost an impossibility. Although 
 during the reign of the terrible Tcamsin the sun was scarcely \'isible. 
 the water in the public fountains grew hot ; our musket-barrels and 
 steel weapons, the wood, marble, iron, and everything, felt warm and 
 burning. When the awful blast is discovered afar oft", coming sweep- 
 ing from the arid deserts of Libya and Arabia, the inhabitants of 
 cities fly to their dwellings for refuge, and shut themselves up 
 closely ; the wandering Arab in the silent wilderness hollows a pit 
 in the sand wherein to hide himself; and the unfortunate traveller, 
 when surprised on the way -side, throws himself on the earth, with 
 his face towards Mecca, while he covers his mouth and nostrils with 
 the lawn of his turban, or the skirt of his robe : the very camel 
 buries its head in the sand till the fearful blast is over. Hand me 
 the sherry, Kennedy : the very remembrance of the Tcamsin makes 
 me thirsty. 
 
 " Cameron — I mean Fassifern — and I lived together in the same 
 tent, which was pitched without the city, in a spot w here enormous 
 ruins incrusted with saltpetre were piled on every side. I well re- 
 member drawing back the triangular door of the tent, and looking 
 cautiously forth when the wind had passed. Here and there I saw 
 the prostrate corpses of some Turks and Egyptians, Avho had been 
 suffocated by inhaling the hot sandy air. They presented a terrible 
 spectacle, certainly. They were swelled enormously, turned to a 
 pale blue colour ; and there they lay, rapidly festering and decom- 
 posing in the heat of the sun, although they had been ahve and well 
 that morning. 
 
 " By it I nearly lost Jock Pentland, my servant, I discovered the 
 poor chield lying, half dead, at the base of Cleopatra's Needle, and 
 had him looked to in time to save his life. Many of our men were 
 dangerously afiected by it ; but when it passed away, all was right 
 again, — and I remember how pleased Fassifern and I were, when, for 
 the first time after the kamsin, we sallied forth on our daily \As\i to 
 our friend Mohammed Djedda, a Turkish captain, with whom we 
 had become acquainted in the course of garrison duty, and who had 
 a very handsome house of his owa. within the walls of Alexandria. 
 
 " Cameron and I had become ;lose comrades, then being only » 
 couple of jovial subs. _ He was senior, and has got in advance of mo 
 but since he has obtained command of the corps, he keeps us all uo 
 the staff''s end, and acts the Highland chief on too extended a scale. 
 Yet Jock (we called him Jock then, for shortness ; but it would be 
 mutiny to do so now) is a fine fellow, and a brave oflicer, and I i^ledge 
 him heartily in Senor Raphael's sherry. 
 
 " To a stranger, the appearance of Alexandria is certainly strildng. 
 The gigantic ruins of a people whose power has passed away, overtop 
 the terraced roofs of the moderns. The embattled towers, the shining 
 domes, the tall and slender minarets, rise on every side among groves 
 of the graceful palm and spreading fig-tree, intermingled wth the 
 sad remains of the years that are gone, the crumbhng temple, tlie 
 prostrate pillar, and the mouldering archway ! Friezes and pedes- 
 tals, rich with carving and hieroglj^jhics, lie piled in shapeless 
 masses, covered }\ith moss and corroded with saltpetre, meeting the 
 view on every side, and striking the stranger \nth veneration ai 
 
 I. K 
 
130 THE r.OiIAKCE OF WAH. 
 
 awe, V. liile his heart is filled with sadness and sublimity. The ruins 
 of these vast palaces, which the great genius of Dinocrates designed, 
 and which the immense wealth of Alexander erected, are now the 
 dwelling-place of the owl and the jackal, the serijent, the asp, and 
 the scorpion. The inhabitants of the modern citj^ are indeed strange- 
 looking l)cings, with brown faces, bushy black beards, and wearing 
 large turbans of linen on their bald pates. Their dress appears like a 
 shapeless gown of divers coloui's, enveloping them from chin to heel ; 
 a scimitar and poniard in the sash, slippers on the feet, and a pipe 
 six feet long in the hand, completes their costume. The women are 
 muflied up to the eyes, which are the only parts of them visible ; and 
 then the shaggy cameb and hideous asses with which everj- thorough- 
 fare is crowded — " 
 
 " Well, major, but the mummies ; you have not told us of them 
 yet," said Konald, becoming impatient. 
 
 " I am coming to the pomt," replied the major, not in the least 
 displeased at the interruption, abrupt though it was ; " but you must 
 permit me to tell a story in my o^m rambling way. To continue, — 
 
 " The redoubtable captain, IMohammed Djedda, had become a very 
 great friend of ours : we used to visit him daily, in the cool part of 
 the evening, pretending that we came to enjoy a pipe of opiiun with 
 him, under the huge nojyal or cochineal-tree which flomished before 
 his door. He knew no Enghsh, I very little Turkish, and Cameron 
 none at all ; consequently our conversation was never very spirited 
 or interesting, and we have sat, for four consecutive hours, piilling 
 assiduously, or pretending to do so, at our long pipes, \nthout utter- 
 ing a syllable, staring hard at each other the while with a gravity 
 trtily Oriental, until we scarcely knew whether our heads or heels 
 were uppermost. We took great credit to ourselves for never laugh- 
 ing outright at the strange figure of the Capitan Djedda, as he sat 
 opposite to us, squatted on a rich carpet, and garbed in his silken 
 vest, gown, wide cotton pantaloons, and heavj' turban, looking like 
 Elue Beard in the story-book. You may wonder what pleasure we 
 found in this sort of work, but the secret was this : Mohammed was 
 one of the most fashionable old bucks in the Turkish service, and of 
 course could not do without four wives, — no Turk of any pretensions 
 to rank being without that number. These he kept in most excel- 
 lent order and constant attendance upon his own lazy person, 
 although he had a score of wretched slaves, — poor barefooted devils, 
 who wore nought to hide their bro^vn skins but a blue shirt girt 
 about their waist with a leather belt, and a red kerchief twisted 
 round their crowns. 
 
 " But Mohammed's veiled and draperied spouses were the gentlest 
 creatures I ever beheld, and not in the least jealous, because he enter- 
 tained for them all the same degree of cool contempt ; and often he 
 told us, ' that women were mere animals, without souis, and only 
 good for breeding children and mischief.' One brought his pipe and 
 lit it, a second spread his carpet under the nopal, a third arranged 
 nis turban, and a fourth put on his slippers ; but he would scorn to 
 thank any with a slance, and kept his round eyes obstinately fixed 
 on the ground, as became a Turk and superior being. This strange 
 old gentleman had two daughters ; perfect angels they were — seraphs 
 or houri. AVe could not see their faces, all of Avhich, vnih the excep- 
 tion of the eyes, were concealed by an abominable cloth veil, which 
 it was almost incurring death to 3*emove before such an infidel as 
 
THE E03L4.:S'CE OF AVAE. 131 
 
 me. But their eyes ! By heavens such were never bolield, not even 
 m the land of sunny eyes, — so large and blaclv, so liquid and spark- 
 liny ! No other parts v^^ere visible except their hands and ankles, 
 'which were bare and white, small and beautiful enough to turn the 
 heads of a whole regiment. Tlie expression of their lustrous eyes, 
 the goddess-like outline of their thinly-clad forms, made Cameron 
 and me imagine their faces to be possessed of that sublime degree of 
 da^izling beauty which it is seldom the lot of mortals to — " 
 
 "Excellent, major," exclaimed Alister; "of all your Egyptian 
 stories this is the best. Then it was the daughters you went to 
 see ? " 
 
 " To be sure it was ! and for the pleasure of beholding them, 
 endured every evening the staring and sinoldng with their ferocious 
 old dog of a papa, who, could he have divined what the two giaours 
 were after, would soon have employed some of his followers to deprive 
 us of our heads. I am sure, by the pleased and melting expression 
 of their eyes, that the girls knew what we came about, and we would 
 certainly have opened a correspondence with them by some means, 
 could we have done so ; but as they were kept almost continually 
 imder lock and key, we never found an opportunity to see them 
 alone, and letters — if we could have wTitten them — would have been 
 useless, as they could neither read nor write a word of any known 
 language, their education being entirely confined to dancing, singing, 
 and playing on the 'o-6d, a kind of guitar used in Egypt : it is a plano- 
 convex affair, which you may often see introduced in Eastern views 
 and paintings. 
 
 "Well, as I related before, on the evening after the blowing of the 
 Tcamsin, Fassifern and I departed on our daily visit, eagerly hoping 
 that we might have an opportunity to see Zela and Azri, the two 
 daughters, alone, as we marched the next day en route for that great 
 city of the genii and the fairies, Grand Cairo, and might never again 
 be at Alexandria. "We were confoundedly smitten, I assure j^ou, 
 though wo have often laughed at it since. We were as much in 
 love as tvv'o very roitjantic young subalterns could be, and very- 
 earnest — hoping, fearing, trembling, and all that — we were in the 
 matter." 
 
 " Well, mnjor, and which was your flame ? " 
 
 " Zela was mine. They named her ' the I'^liite Hose of Sidrah ; ' 
 which means, I believe, ' the wonderful tree of ]\lahomet's paradise.* 
 But to continue : 
 
 " On approaching the house, we found it all deserted and silent. 
 The carpet and pipe lay under the shadow of the umbrageous nopal, 
 but the grave and portly Mohammed Djedda was not there. The nouse 
 and garden likewise were tenantless, and after wandering for some 
 time among its maze of flower-beds and little groves, where the 
 apricot, the pomegranate, date-palm^, custard-ap]3le, and fig-tree, 
 flourished luxm'iantly, we were met'' by one of Mohammed's half- 
 naked slaves, who informed us — me at least, as I alone knew a little 
 of his guttural language — that the Capitan Djedda, his four wives, 
 his slaves, and all his household, were gone to the great mosque, to 
 return thanks for the passing away of the kamsin. 
 
 " As \\(i were very much overcome by the heat of the atmosphere, 
 we were about to enter the cool marble vestibule of the mansion, 
 when the airy figiires of the young ladies, in their floc ting drapery 
 aoneared at an upper window. 
 
 k2 
 
132 THE KOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 " ' Now or never. Colin ! ' said I'assifern, ' The young ladies are 
 upstairs and the nouse is empty ; we will pay them a visit now in 
 safety/ 
 
 "'And what if old Blue Beard returns in the meantime with all 
 his ]\raraelukes?' 
 
 " ' Then there is nothing for it but cutting our way out and escaping. 
 'We march to-morrow, and the affair would be forgotten in the hurry 
 of our departure. But is not death the penalty of being found iii 
 the chambers of Turkish women ? ' 
 
 " ' So I have heard,' said I, shrugging my shoulders ; ' but old 
 Mohammed will scarcely try experiments in the art of decapitation 
 jvhile our own troops are so near. Yonder are the sentinels of the 
 42nd among the ruins of the Eoman tower, almost within hail.' 
 
 "^ ' Which is the way, Colin ? ' asked he, as we wandered about the- 
 vestibule, among columns and pedestals surmounted by splendid 
 vases filled with gorgeous flowers. 
 
 " ' Up this staircase, I think.' 
 
 '■ ' But what the devil am I to say when we meet them ? I knov.- 
 not a word of the language.' 
 
 " ' Tush ! never mind that, Jock ; do as 1 do,' said I, as we ascended 
 the white marble steps leading to the upper stoiy, and passed through 
 several apartments, the very appearance of which made me long to 
 become Mohammed's son-in-law ; but I can assure you, that never 
 until that moment had I thought seriously of making the ' White 
 'Rose of Sidrah' Mrs. Colin Campbell, of Craigfianteoch. The 
 chambers through which we passed were singular, and gorgeously 
 rich beyond conception ; realizing all those ideas of oriental magni- 
 ficence which are so well described in the 'Thousand and One 
 Nights.' The walls, floors, and columns were of polished marble, 
 pure and spotless as snow ; and then there were arches hung, and 
 pillars wi'eathed, with festoons and garlands of dewy and freshly- 
 gathered flowers. Globes of crystal, vases of the purest alabaster, 
 Persian carpets, hangings of damask and silk, girt with cords and 
 tassels of gold, appeared on every side, and m many of the apart- 
 ments bubbled up fountains of bright and sparkling water, diflusing 
 a cool and delightful feeling through the close atmosphere of the 
 mansion. 
 
 " The tinkling sound of the 'o-6d, or EgjT^tian lute, attracted us 
 towards the kiosk which contained the fair objects who had led us 
 on the adventure. We raised the heavy folds of a glossy damask 
 curtain, and found ourselves, for the first time, in their presence 
 unobserved by others. 
 
 " The two graceful creatures, who were as usual closely veiled, 
 sprang from the ottomans on which they were seated, and came 
 hastily towards us, exclaiming in surprise mingled with fear and 
 pleasure, ' Ma slia Allah ! Ya mohareTc, ya Allah ! ' and a score of 
 such phrases as the tumult of their minds caused them to utter. 
 
 "' Salam alai Jcom' said Eassifern, meaning ' good morrow,' which 
 was all the progress he had made in the oriental languages, and we 
 doffed our bonnets, making a salaam in the most graceful manner. 
 
 " ' Colin, tell them to take off their confounded veils,' whispered 
 Cameron. 
 
 " I asked thera to do so in the r;ost high-flown style imaginable, 
 but they screamed out another volley of exclamations, and fled away 
 to the further corner of the anartment^ vet came again towards us 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. lod 
 
 timidly, while I felt my heart beating audibly as 1 surveyed the «oft 
 expression of pleasure that beamed in their orient eyes. They were 
 evidently delighted at the novelty of our visit, though their pleasure 
 was tinged with a dash of dread when they thought of their father's 
 return, and the boundless fury of a Turkish vengeance. Zela placed 
 her little white hands on my epaulets^ and looking steadfastly at mo 
 through the round holes in her veil, burst into a merry shout of 
 laughter. 
 
 " ' Beautiful Zela,' said I, as I threw my arm around her, ' "Whit« 
 E,ose of Sidrah, at what do you laugh ? ' 
 
 '"' ' You have no beard ! ' said she, laughing louder. ' "Where is the 
 bushy air which hangs from the chin of a man ? ' 
 
 " ' I haven't got any yet,' I answered in English, considerably put 
 out by the question ; but I was only a sub, you know, and had never 
 even thought of a razor; my chin was almost as smooth as her own, 
 and so she said as she passed her soft little hand over it. Again I 
 attempted to remove the veil which hid her face, but so great was 
 her terror, so excessive her agitation, that I desisted for a time. But 
 between caressing and entreating, in a few minutes we conquered 
 their scruples and oriental ideas of punctilio, when we were per- 
 mitted to remove their laA^•n hoods, and view their pure and sublime 
 features, with the heavy masses of long black and glossy hair falling 
 over naked necks and shoulders, which were whiter than Parian 
 marble. They were indeed miraculously beautiful, and fully reahzed 
 our most romantic and excited ideas of their long-hidden loveliness. 
 
 "I had just obtained some half-dozen kisses from the de\^y little 
 mouth of Zela, wdien I saw Cameron start up and draw his sword. 
 
 " ' What is the matter, Fassifern ? ' I exclaimed ; but the appalling 
 and portly figure of Mohammed Djedda, as he stood in the doorway, 
 swelling Avitli rage and Eastern ferocity, was a sufficient answer. In 
 his right hand he held his drawn sabre of keen Damascus steel, and 
 in the other a long brass Turkish pistol. Crowding the marble 
 staircase beyond, we saw his ferocious Mameluke soldiers, clad in 
 their crimson henishes or long robes of cotton, and tall kouacJcs or 
 cylindrical yellow turbans, while their spears, poniards, and scimitars, 
 short, crooked, and of Damascus steel, flashed and glittered in a 
 manner very unpleasant to behold. The poor girls, horrified beyond 
 description at being discovered in the society of men, of Christians, 
 and unveiled too, were so much overcome by their terrors, that they 
 were unable to fly ; and calling on the bride of Mahomet in Paradise 
 to protect them, embraced each other franticly and fondly, expecting 
 instant death. 
 
 " ' Here is a devil of a mess, Cameron,' cried I, drawing out Andrea, 
 Let us leap the window, and fly for the camp ! ' 
 
 '■' ' But their carbines throw a dozen balls at once,' was his hurried 
 replv. 
 
 ' Shoulder to shoulder, Jock ! now for the onset,' said I, pre- 
 paring to rush recklessly upon them, ' "VVe must take our chance 
 of— 
 
 "The rest was cut short by a slash the old savage made at me with 
 his scimitar, which took three inches ofl" the oak stick I cut at home 
 in the green woods of Inverary, before I left them to follow the 
 drum. My blood began to boil. 
 
 " ' Mohammed Djedda ! ' said I, in Turkish, ' we have done no 
 wrong ; we are straiigers among you, and know not the iaws of the 
 
131 THE LOMAXCE OF NYAK. 
 
 land. Allou- us to depart iu peace; otherwise you mav have good 
 reason to repent/ I added, pointing to the tents of the auld forty- 
 twa.' 
 
 " ' Depart in peace, said you ? Despicable giaour ! ' thundered he, 
 his Turkish tone becoming more guttural by his ferocity. ' Never — 
 never ! By the sacred stone of Mecca ! — by every hair in the beard 
 of the holy Prophet ! — by the infernal bridge which spans the sea of 
 fire ! slave of an accursed race, ye never shall ! Never ! I have 
 sworn it,' 
 
 " I saw Cameron's eyes flash and glare as he prepared to sell his 
 life as dearly as possible. 
 
 " ' Then our steel for it, old man ; and remember, should vie fall, 
 our friends in the white tents will avenge us.' 
 
 " ' Thou too .«halt die ! ' growled the old barbarian, discharging his 
 pistol at poor little Zela^, who fell dead without a groan, with the 
 purple blood streaming Irom her wliite bosom, which I saw heave its 
 last convulsive throb around the death-shot. The thick mushn 
 turban of jMohammed saved him from one tremendous blow which 
 I dealt at his scowling visage, but he sunk to the earth beneath the 
 weight of the claymore. 
 
 ^^^ Allah, il Allah! death to the soldiers of Isauri !' yelled his 
 infuriated followerSj rushing madly on me, and in an instant I was 
 vancjuished : I received a terrible blovr on the back of my head from 
 the iron mace of a Mameluke. I remember no more than just seeing 
 Cameron cut dovm. two to the teeth, run a third through the brisket, 
 leap the ■^indo'^v, and escape. 
 
 " ' Good bye, Cameron ; gallantly done ! ' cried I, as I sunk stunned 
 and senseless by the lifeless corse of Zela. 
 
 " How long I lay insensible I know not ; but when my faculties 
 returned, I found myself stretched upon the ground, which felt cold 
 and damp, and in a place involved in the deepest and most impene- 
 trable gloom. I found that the epaulets and lace had been torn from 
 my coat, and an intense pain on the back of my head reminded me 
 of the blow of the steel mace ; and on raising my hand to the wound, 
 I found my hair clotted and hardened with coagulated blood. Eats 
 or some monstrous vermin running over me caused me to leap from 
 the ground, and endeavour to discover where I was. This the dark- 
 ness rendered impossible ; but by the chill atmosphere of the place, 
 the difficulty of respiration I experienced, and the hollow echoes of 
 my feet, dying dismally away in distant canties, I conjectured rightly 
 that I was imprisoned in some subterranean vault. What the 
 agony of my mind was when this idea became confirmed, you may 
 better conceive than I describe. I recollected that the troops 
 marched next day, and that unless Fassifern made some most 
 strenuous attempt to discover and free me, I should be left at the 
 mercy of the lawless Mohammed, either to be his perpetual captive 
 in a dungeon, to be left to a slow hngering death by starvation, or a 
 more expeditious one by some mode of torture, such as the most 
 refined spirit of Eastern cruelty and barbarism could invent. 
 
 " In groping about, I soon came in contact with a stone walL, 
 which I felt carefully all round, but no door or outlet could I dis- 
 cover. A succession of wooden boxes placed upright, sounding and 
 hollow when I touched them, informed me at onee of the truth, — 
 that I was cast into one of those ancient catacombs which are so 
 numerous under the city of Alexandria, — horrible caverns hollowed 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 135 
 
 m the bowels of the earth, where the mummy-reniains of the subjects 
 of the Pharaohs, the Ptolemies, and others, outstandmg the course 
 of more than twenty centuries, lay swathed in their bandages and 
 embalming ! The blood rushed back upon my trembling heart, and 
 every hair on my aching head seemed to bristle upon my scalp, as I 
 staggered dizzily against the mouldy wall, knocking down half a 
 dozen mummy-collers, which fell heavily and hollowly upon the 
 pavement. 
 
 " You may imagine what were my feelings when I reviewed my 
 situation. I, a superstitious Highland boy, that used to shake in my 
 brogues, hke a dog in a wet sack, if I passed the kirk-yard of Inve- 
 rary after nightfall, and never went into the dark but with my eyes 
 closed tight, for fear of seeing something " uncanny," when I found 
 myself in this gloomy repository of the dead, I was so confounded 
 and terriiied, that it was long before I recovered my self-possession 
 so far as to cast a firm glance of scrutiny around me, and endeavour 
 to discover some means of escape. — I perceived with joy a faint ray 
 of daylight streaming through a small aperture which appeared 
 nearly twenty feet above me. 
 
 " ' JDaAvn has broken ! ' I exclaimed in sudden anguish ; 'the troops 
 must have marched ! Cameron cannot have escaped Mohammed, or, 
 oh, my God ! surely he would not, without making an effort to save 
 me, abandon me to i>erisli here ! ' 
 
 " ' Perish here ! ' repeated half a dozen dreary echoes. I lookett 
 around me in consternation. The sounds almost seemed to proceed 
 from the red blubber-like Ups of the frightful faces which I now- 
 perceived carved and painted on the outside of the upright 
 mummy-coffers. They were the figures of the dead, and tinted ^vitli 
 those imperishable colours with which the ancient Egji:)tians deco- 
 rated the exterior of their teuiples. The large round eyes of these 
 appaihng effigies seemed to be staring hard at me from every dark 
 corner, winking, goggling, and rolling; while their very mouths, 
 capacious and red, expanded into a broad grin, methought at my 
 misery. Against the black wall they were ranked at equal distances, 
 but here and there were some which had fallen to pieces, and lay 
 upon the earth, exposing the decayed and mouldered corse standing 
 stark, gaunt, and erect, swathed tightly in its cerements. Others 
 had fallen down, and lay prostrate among little urns, containing, I 
 suppose, the embalmed remains of the sacred ibis, the monkey, or 
 other animals revered by the ancient idolaters. Enormous bats 
 were saihng about, black scorpions, and many a huge bloated reptile, 
 of which I knew not even the name, appearing as if formed alone 
 for such a place, crawled about the coiiins, or fell now and then Avith 
 a heavy squa]3l)y sound from the wet shmy wall on the moist and 
 w^atery pavement, 
 
 " 13y the grey light, struggling tlirough what seemed a joint in the 
 keystone of an arch above, I was enabled to note these tilings, and I 
 did so vriili wary and fearful glances, while my heart s^^•elled almost 
 to breaking when I thought of my blighted hopes, and that home 
 which was far awa — the green mountains of Mull and of Morven, 
 and the deep salt lochs of Argyle ; and dearer than all, the well- 
 known hearth where I had sat at the knoc of my mother, and heard 
 her rehearse tho.?e M'ild traditions of hill and valley, v/hich endeared 
 them more to me. 
 
 " ' Have the followers of the false Lsauri departed ? ' asked the gut- 
 
136 THE EOMANCE OF WAS. 
 
 tural voice of old Mohammed or some one above ue ; while the 
 cranny over-head became darkened, and the tramplins of feet, 
 together with the clatter of weapons, became audible. 'Have the 
 eaters of pork and drinkers of wine, — have the unclean dogs departed 
 from the Avails of Iskandrieh ? ' I listened in breathless siispense. 
 
 " ' They have,' answered the yet more guttural voice of a ^ilame- 
 luke : ' they go towards the desert. May they perish in the sand, 
 that the jackal and wolf may fatten and howl over their bones !' 
 
 " ' Amen, — Allah Tcelur ! Great is God, and Mahomet is his holy 
 l*rophet ! ' replied the Capitan Djedda, while my heart died Avitliin 
 me to hear that our people had departed from Alexandria. These 
 were some of the un^ateful infidels for whom brave Sir Ealph, and 
 so many gallant Britons, had reddened the arid sand -svith their 
 blood ! 
 
 " ' Then bring ye up this follower of Isauri,' said Mohammed, ' and 
 he will see whether his prophet, or all the dervishes and moUahs of 
 his faith, can preserve him from the death I have sworn he shall die. 
 Ere night, his carcass shall be food for jackals ; and while the un- 
 behever looks his last on the bright setting sun, Hadji Kioudh get 
 
 ready the ' "What word he finished with I know not, but it 
 
 was suflicient to strike terror to the inmost recesses of my heart, I 
 well knew some terrible instrument of torture was named. 
 
 " What my emotions were I cannot describe, when I found death 
 60 near, and knew that I was powerless, defenceless, and unarmed, 
 having no other weapon but my oaken staff, which, strange to say, I 
 had never reUnquished. I beheld the daw of an iron crow-bar 
 inserted in the cranny which admitted light, for the purpose of rais- 
 ing the stone trap-door of the catacomb ; and as the space opened, I 
 saw, or imagined I saw, the weapons of Mohammed's followers 
 flashing in the sun-light. My life never appeared so dear, or of such 
 inestimable value, as at that moment, when I found myself about to 
 lose it, — to be sacrificed hke a poor mouse in a trap. I cast around 
 a furious glance of eagerness and despair. A small round archway, 
 wliich I had not before observed, met my eye , yawning and black it 
 appeared in the gloom, and supported by clumsy short Egyptian 
 pillars. I fiew towards it, as novels say, animated by the most tumul- 
 tuous hopes and fears, prating to Heaven that it might aflFord me 
 some chanco of escape from the scimitars of the savage Mahometans, 
 who had already raised the trap-stone, and lowered a long ladder 
 into the vault. 
 
 " The passage was long but straight, and guided by a distant light, 
 glimmering at the other end, I sped along it mth the fleetness of a 
 roebuck, receivmg, as I went, many a hard knock froui the bold 
 carvings and knobby projections of the short dumpy pillars that 
 formed a colonnade on each side. I heard the sabres and iron maces 
 of the Mameluke warriors clatter, as successively five or six of them 
 leaped into the vault, and set up the wild shout of ' Ya Allah ! * 
 when they found that I was not there. By their not immediately 
 searching the passage, I concluded that they were unacquainted Avith 
 the geography of the place, and, in consequence of their having come 
 from the strong glare of the sun, were unable to perceive the arch 
 in the gloom of the cavern. They became terrified on finding that 
 I was gone, and -withdrew, scampering up the ladder with the utmost 
 precipitation, attributing, I suppose, my escape to supernatural 
 means. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 137 
 
 " I kept myself close between the twisted columns, scarcely daring 
 to breathe until they had withdrawn and all was quiet, when 1 nxim 
 pursued my way towards the glimmering light, which was still in 
 view, but at what distance before me I could form no idea. Some- 
 times it appeared close at hand, sometimes a mile ofi', dancing before 
 me like a will o' the wisp. My progress was often embarrassed by 
 prostrate columns, and oftener by heaps of fallen masonry. More 
 than once I was nearly suffocated by the foul air of the damp vaults, 
 or the dust and mortar among which I sometimes fell. But I strug- 
 gled onward manfully, yet feeling a sort of sullen and reckless 
 despair, putting up the while many a pious prayer and ejaculation, 
 strangely mingled with many an earnest curse in Gaelic on Moham- 
 med Djedda, and the architect who planned the labyrinth, though, 
 perhaps, it might have been the great Gnidian Sostrates himself, 
 lifter toiling thus for some time, until, wearied and worn out, I 
 found myself in the lower vault of one of those large round towers 
 which are so numerous among the ancient and ruinous fortifications 
 of Alexandria. A round and shattered aperture, about ten feet 
 Irom the floor, admitted the pure breeze, which I inhaled greedily, 
 while my eyes gloated on the clear blue sky ; and I felt more exqui- 
 site delight in doing so than even when gazing on the pure snowy 
 bosom of the beautiful Zela, whom, to tell you the truth, I had 
 almost forgotten during the quandary in which I found myself. The 
 cry of ' Jedger Allah ! ' shouted close beside the ruinous tower, in- 
 formed me I was near the post of a Mussulman sentinel, and com- 
 pelled me to act with greater caution. I heard the cry (which 
 answers to our ' All's well ! ') taken up by other sentinels at intervals, 
 and die away among the windings of the walls. 
 
 " By the assistance of a large stone, I was enabled to reach the 
 aperture, through which I looked cautiously, to reconnoitre the 
 ground. It was a glorious evening, and the dazzling blaze of the red 
 sun, as it verged towards the west, was shed on the still, glassy sea, 
 where the white sails of armed xebecs, galleys, and British ships of 
 war, were reflected downwards in the bosom of the ample harbour. 
 Appearing in bold light or shadow, as the sun poured its strong 
 lustre upon them, 1 saw the long lines of mouldering battlements, — 
 the round domes, the taper spires and obelisks w^hich rose above the 
 embrasures, where the sabres and lances of the Turks gave back the 
 light of the setting sun, whose farewell rays were beaming on the 
 pillar of Diocletian and the grey old towers of Aboukir, from the 
 summits of which were now waving the red colours of Mahomet. 
 But the beauty of the scenery had no charms for the drowsy JMoslem 
 (vvhose cry I had heard, and whom I now perceived to be a cavalry 
 vidette), stationed under the cool shadow of a palm-grove close by. 
 He was seated on a carpet, with his legs folded under him. His 
 sabre and dagger lay near him, drawn, and he sat without moving a 
 muscle, smoking with grave assiduity, and wearing his tall yellow 
 JcoxiacJc very much over his right eye, which led me to suppose that 
 he was a smart fellow among the Mamelukes — perceiving, to my 
 great chagrin, that he was one of Mohammed's savage troop. His 
 noble Arab horse, with its arching neck and glittering eyes, stood 
 motionless beside him, its bridle trailing on the ground, while it 
 gazed with a sagacious look on the columns of smoke which at times 
 curled upwards from the moustached mouth of its master, who was 
 staring flxedly in an opposite direction to the city. I followed the 
 
138 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 point to Which he turned his round glassy eye, and Ijeheld, to my 
 inexpressible ioy, an Engli.-:h iul'antry regiment — Hutchinson's rear- 
 guai'd — halted under a gi'ove of fig-trees, but, alas ! at a distance far 
 beyond the reach of my call. 
 
 " I formed at once the resolution of confronting the sentinel, and 
 endeavouring to escape. The moment "was a precious one : the corps 
 was evidently about to move ofl', and was forming in open column of 
 companies, with their band in the centre. While I was collecting all 
 my scattered energies for one desperate and headlong etfort, a loud 
 uproar in the distant catacomb arrested me for a moment, and I 
 heard the terrible voice of Mohammed Djedda, exclaiming — 
 
 " ' Barek Allah ! we shall find him yet : the passage, slaves ! the 
 
 Sassage ! Ey God and the holy Prophet, if the giaour escape, false 
 oes, ye shall die ! Forward ! ' 
 
 A confused trampUng of feet, a rush and clatter followed, and I 
 sprang hghtly through the aperture into the open air. Stealing softly 
 towards the unconscious Mameluke, I wreathed my hand in the 
 flo^^ang mane of his Arab horse, and seizing the dangling bridle, 
 vaulted into his wooden-box saddle ; while he, raising the cry of 
 * Allah, il Allah ! ' sprung up like a harlequin, and made a sweeping 
 stroke at me "v^ith his sharp sabre. He wjls about to handle his long 
 brass-barrelled carbine, when, unhooking the steel mace which hung 
 at his saddle-bow, and discharging it full on his swarthy forehead, I 
 stretched him motionless on the earth. At that instant Moham- 
 med, sabre and lance in hand, rushed from the ruined tower, at the 
 head of his followers. 
 
 a c 
 
 Hoich! God save the king — hurrah!' cried I, giving them a 
 shout of reckless laughter and derision, as I forced the fleet Arab 
 steed onward, like an arrow shot from a bow — madly compelling it 
 to leap high masses of ruinous wall, blocks of marble and granite, 
 all of which it cleared hke a greyhound, and carried me in a minute 
 among our ov/n people, "oith whom 1 was safe, and under whose 
 escort I soon rejoined the regiment, whom I found all assured of my 
 death — especially the senior ensign, Cameron, who had got off scot- 
 free, havmg related the doleful story of my brains being knocked 
 out by the Mameluke soldier of Mohammed Djedda, a complaint 
 against whom was about to be lodged with the Shaik-el-heled by 
 Lord Hutchinson, commanding the troops. 
 
 " AVell, this was my adventure among the mummies, and it was 
 one that left a strong impression, you may be sure. How dry my 
 throat is with talking !— Pass the decanters— the sherry-jugs, I mean 
 — whoever has them beside him : 'tis now so dark, that I cannot see 
 where they are." 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 ANOTHES XIGHT AT MEETDA. 
 
 The conversation which ensued on the close of the majors story^ 
 was interrupted by the clatter of a horse trotting along the cause- 
 wayed-street. 
 
 '' That must be my batman, Jock Pentland, with my horse for the 
 rounds," said Campbell, impatiently. '' 1 am sure I told the Lowland 
 
THE eojIaxce of wah. 13S 
 
 .oon uot to come till the bells of San Sebastian rang the hour 
 of ten/"' 
 
 " It is a dragoon, I think ; but the night is so darx I am not cer- 
 tain/' said B,onald, as he drew back from the open window. "He 
 has dismounted here." 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and the host appeared bearin;? a 
 long candle in his hand, flaring and sputtering in the currents of air, 
 while he, bowing very Ioav, introduced the Conde de Truxillo, v.ho 
 advanced towards them, making his long stafi'-plume sweep the tile^ 
 of the floor at every bow he gave. 
 
 " Welcome, noble conde ! " said Stuart, rising, and introducing 
 him to the rest. 
 
 " Ah, Don Eonald, are you here ? I am indeed proud to see you." 
 
 " You come upon us most unexpectedly, conde." 
 
 " I have been in my saddle all day," replied the other, casting him- 
 self languidly into a chair, " and have this moment come from the 
 quarters of Sir Rowland Hill, for whom I had despatches — " 
 
 " From Lord Welhngton ? " 
 
 " Yes, caballeros." 
 
 " And Ciudad Eodrigo ? " cried they, eagerly. 
 
 " Has fallen— " 
 Fallen?" 
 
 " Two days ago." 
 
 " Hurrah i Well done. Lord Wellington ! " cried Bevan, draining 
 his glass. 
 
 " The devil ! " muttered Campbell ; " then we shall have no fighting 
 with Marmont." 
 
 " He has retreated to Salamanca," said the conde, '' abandoning to 
 its fate the fortress, which I saw the gallant Inglesos carry by storm 
 in the course of half an hour, — killing, wounding, and capturing 
 three thousand of the enemy." 
 
 "Glorious news, Don Balthazzar, " said Sonald. "But refresh 
 yourself; here is sherry, and there Malaga, with cigars in abund- 
 ance. After you have rested, we shall be glad to hear an account of 
 the assault." 
 
 " I thank you, senor caballero," said the count, providing himself, 
 
 " What is our loss ? " asked Campbell. " Have many qffieiales y 
 soldados fallen ? " 
 
 '■' ^VTiat the allies suffered I have never heard, — at least 'twas not 
 kncvMi when I left for Castello Branco ; but two brave general officers 
 have been slain." 
 
 " Their names, conde ? " 
 
 " Crawfurd and Mackinnon ; one fell dead while I vsas speaking to 
 him." 
 
 " GkiUant fellows they were, and countrymen of our own too ! " 
 said Campbell, gulping down his sherry with a dolorous sigh. "But 
 'tis the fortune of war ; every bullet has its billet, — their fate to-day 
 may be ours to-morrow." 
 
 During a long discussion which ensued upon the news brought 
 by the conde, the latter applied himself to the remnants of the 
 tocino and huevos, with infinite relish. 
 
 " I wonder what the despatches for Sir Eowland may contain ? " 
 observed Captain Bevan, supposing that theconde might throw some 
 light on the matter; but the hungry Espagnol was too busy to 
 hear him. 
 
■140 THE HOMANCE OF WAH. 
 
 " Most likely an order to retrace our step?/' replied Campbell. *' i 
 ■uoiild wager my majority against a maravedi, that you will find it to 
 be the case." 
 
 " Very probably. The devil ! we are a mere corps of observation 
 just now. 
 
 " It was not wont to be so ^vith the second division," observed 
 Kennedy. 
 
 "Never mind," replied Campbell* "it will be our -turn in good 
 
 time. I drink this horn to our most noble selves Hah ! there 
 
 are the bells of San Sebastian. I must be off to visit these con- 
 founded picquets ; my horse will be here immediately." 
 
 The major rose and buckled on Andrea, surveying ^\ith a sour look 
 the long line of equi-distant fires which were glomng afar off, mark- 
 ing the chain of out-posts, around the base of the mountain, and 
 along the level plain. 
 
 " Here comes my oatman, Jock," said he, looking into the street. 
 *' Pentland, my man ; is that you ? " 
 
 "Ay, sir ! " rephed a soldier, dressed in his white shell-jacket and 
 kilt, as he rode a horse up to the door and dismounted. 
 
 "You are a punctual fellow. Desire Senor Eaphael, the inn- 
 keeper, to give you a canteen full of aquardiente. Arc the holsters 
 on, the pistols loaded, and fresh flinted ?" 
 
 "A's richt, sir," rephed the gi'oom, raising his hand to his flat 
 bonnet. 
 
 " I will see you again, lads, when we get uiider arms in the morn- 
 ing," said Campbell, enveloping himself in an immense blue cloak. 
 
 " How, major ! Are you so fond of bivouacking that you mean to 
 sleep \nth the out-picquets ? " 
 
 " Not quite, Alister ; but I mean to finish the night at Fassifern's 
 billet, and fight our battles and broils in Egypt over -again for the 
 entertainment of his host, a rich old canon, who is said to have in 
 his cellars some of the best wine on this side of the peak of Ossian." 
 
 "Do not forget, senor, to make the reverend Padre's borachio- 
 skins gush forth hke a river," said the conde, " A priest would as 
 soon part with his heart's blood, as his "^nne to a stranger." 
 
 " I am too old a soldier to require that advice, Balthazzar," said 
 Campbell, ^\Tapping his mantle around his gigantic figure, which the 
 Spaniard surveyed \\ith a stare of surprise. "I regret you have 
 not all invitations ; but be as much at home here as you can, and 
 be careful how you trust yourselves within any of Senor Eaphael's 
 couches. Peninsular — pardon, conde — I mean Portuguese posadas, 
 are none of the most cleanly ; and if you would wish to avoid being 
 afflicted with sarna for twelve months to come, it would be quite as 
 safe and pleasant to repose on the floor." 
 
 " The sarna ! major," exclaimed Stuart ; " what does that mean ?" 
 
 " We give a less classical name for it at home in the land o' cakes," 
 said Campbell, as he descended the stair, making the place shake* 
 with his heavy tread ; " but you \vill discover to your cost what it 
 means, if you are rash enough to sleep between the sheets of any 
 bed in the posadas of this country." 
 
 Don Balthazzar returned next mormng to rejoin Lord WelUngton's 
 staff at Ciudad Eodrigo. 
 
 His despatches contained an order to Sir Eowland Hill to return 
 into Spanish Estremadura, the retreat of Marshal Marmont render- 
 ing the presence of the second division unnecessary in PortugaL 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 141 
 
 Many were sadly disappointed when this order was read next morn- 
 ing in the hollow squares of regiments, — all having been in high 
 spirits, and filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of a brush ^vlth 
 the enemy before the expected capitulation of the celebrated fortress; 
 but there was no help for it, — obedience being the lirst duty of a 
 soldier. _ On the march towards Merida again, they consoled them- 
 selves Avith the hope that the Marshal Duke of Dalmatia, General 
 Drouet, or some of the commanders in their front, would make 
 them amends by showing fight. The British army had now been, 
 supplied with tents sent out to them from Britain ; and they had 
 the prospect of encamping with Avhat they considered tolerable com- 
 fort during the summer campaign, and not lying, like the beasts of 
 the field, without a shelter from the inclemency of the vreather. 
 
 The same degree of coldness and hauteur Avas yet maintained 
 between E-onald and Louis Lisle, who never addressed each other 
 but when compelled by military duty to do so ; and only then in the 
 most distant terms, and studied style of politeness. The quarrel 
 A-hicli had ensued on their first meeting was yet rankling in the 
 liearts of both, and their fiery Scottish pride was fast subduing the 
 secret feeling of friendship which still lurked in the breast of each. 
 
 The weather had become very warm, and the soldiers suffered 
 excessively from the burning heat of the sun and the extreme 
 scarcity of water, when traversing the wild and arid plains of Estre- 
 madura. Their rations were of such an inditferent quality, and so 
 very scant, as barely to sustain life ; and Eonald Stuart, although a 
 stout young Highlander, felt often so much exhausted, that his 
 heavy broad-sword nearly dropped more than once from his hand. 
 
 If such was his situation, what must that have been of the poor 
 private soldiers, laden as they were with their heavk arms, ammuni- 
 tion, and accoutrements, — knapsack, great coat, blanket, havresack, 
 and canteen, — a load weighing nearly eighty pounds ! Day after 
 day they marched forward in the face of the scorching sun, — hot, 
 fierce, and glaring, hanging above them in the blue and cloudless 
 vault, "vvithering the grass beneath their feet, and causing the earth 
 to gape and crack as if all inanimate nature were athirst for rain 
 and moisture. Every breath of Ctlr they inhaled seemed hot and 
 suffocating, like the fiery blast which gushes from an oven when the 
 door is opened. 
 
 More than once on the march had Ronald relieved Louis by 
 carrying his heavy standard, when he was almost sinking with ex- 
 haustion ; but the want of water was the chief misery endured. The 
 supply Avith which they filled their wooden canteens at the public 
 fountains of Albuquerque, Zagala, and La Nava, became during the 
 march heated and tainted, sickly to the taste and uurefreshing. 
 
 Kow and then, when a spring was passed on the line of march, the 
 soldiers, unrestrained by discipline, crowded eagerly and wildly about 
 it. striving furiously, almost at drawn bayonets, for the first canteen- 
 ful, until the place became a clay puddle, and further contention 
 was useless. 
 
 " O for ae sough o' the cauler breeze that blaws ower the braes o' 
 Strathonan ! " Evan would often exclaim, as he wped away tho 
 perspiration that streamed from under his bonnet; "or a single 
 mouthfu' o' the Isla, where it rius sae cauld and deep at Corrie-avon, 
 or the foaming swirl at the hnn o' Avondhu, for my tongue is amaist 
 burnt to a cinder. Gude guide us, Maister llonald, this is awfu' " 
 
li'2 THE EOilANCE 01' VTAE, 
 
 " O'ds man, Iverach, if I was again on the bonnie Ochil or Lomona 
 liills," said a Lowlander, " de'il ding me gin I wad gie ower driving 
 i?heep and stols to follow the drum." 
 
 " Or si&.an to pe shoot at for twa pawbeesta hoor, — teevil tak' it ! '* 
 added a Gordon from Garioch. 
 
 " Hear to the greedy kite ! " exclaimed the Lowlander. ''An 
 Aberdonian is the chield to reckon on the bawbees." 
 
 "Teevil and his tarn pe on you and yours!" cried the Gordon, 
 angrily. " Oich, oich ! it's well kcnt that a Fifeman would rake hell 
 for a bodle, and skin — " 
 
 The commanding voice of Colonel Cameron, exclaiming, " Silence, 
 there, number four company ! silence on the march ! " put an instant 
 end to the controversy. 
 
 " Hot work this, Stuart, very, Eeats Eg;^'pt ahnost," Campbell 
 would say, as he rode past at times. 
 
 Various were the emotions which agitated Ronald's breast, when 
 he beheld before him the windings of the Guadiana and the well- 
 known city of Merida, which was again in possession of the French. 
 The jealous feeling ^nth which he regarded Alice Lisle caused him 
 to look forward "\nth almost unalloyed pleasure to the expected 
 meeting with his winning and beautiful patrona ; and il was with a 
 secret sensation of satisfaction — of triumph perhaps, of which, how- 
 ever, he almost felt ashamed that he had witnessed the proud blood 
 mantling in the cheek of young Louis, when he (Eouald) was rallied 
 by Alister, Kennedy, and others, about his residence at 3Ierida, and 
 the favour he had found with Donna Catalina. 
 
 At the fountain where Stuart had been regaled by the muleteers, 
 a fierce struggle ensued among the soldiers for a mouthful of water. 
 The French troops had maliciously destroyed the pipe and basin ; 
 the water, in consequence, gushed across the pathwaj^, where the 
 current had now worn a channel. Although the wliole of General 
 Long's brigade of cavalry had passed through it, rendering it a thick 
 and muddy puddle, yet so intense was the thirst of the soldiers, that 
 an angry scramble ensued around it to fill canteens, or obtain a 
 mouthful to moisten their tongues, which were swollen, and clove 
 to their palates. By dint of the most strenuous exertions, Evan 
 Iverach had supT)lied his master's canteen with the sandy liquid, 
 neglecting to fill his own, although, poor fellow, he was perishing 
 with thirst, ilonald had placed it to his lips, but found the water 
 so much saturated with sand, that it was impossible almost to taste 
 it. He vras replacing the spigot in the Httle barrel, when th-e ex- 
 clamation of — 
 
 _" My God ! 1 shall certainly faint with exhaustion. Soldiers, I 
 will give a guinea for a drop of water — only a single drop," pro- 
 nounced in a remarkably soft and musical English accent, arrested 
 his attention ; and on looking up, he perceived a young lady, attired 
 in a fashionable riding-habit and hat, pressing her graceful Andalusian 
 horse among the Highlanders, who were crushing and jostling around 
 the mutilated fountain. The wind blew up lierlace veil, discovering 
 a quantity of fair silky curls falling around a face which was very 
 pretty and delicate, but thin, apparently from the fatigue and priva- 
 tions which were making many a stout soldier gaunt and bony. 
 Many who had filled their vessels at the fountain, held them towards 
 her ; but she gratefully took Honald's, thanking liim by a smile from 
 the finest blue eyes in the v/orld. 
 
THE KO:\IAlsCE OF WAE. 143 
 
 " I am afraid it is impossible you can drmk it," said he, as lie lield 
 aer bridle, " it is so tliick with clay and animalculsc." 
 
 " It is very bad. certainly ; but yet better than nothing," replied 
 the lady, as she orank of it, quenching her burning thirst eagerly. 
 " Ah, dear sir ! I regret to deprive you of it ; but accept my kindest 
 thanks in return. My name is Mrs. Evelyn ; Mr, Evelyn, of the 
 9th Light Dragoons, will return you a thousand thanks for your 
 kindness to me. But I must ride fast, if I would see him again before 
 ,hey attack Merida ; and so, sir, good morning ! " 
 
 She struck her i\ ndalusian with her little riding-rod, and bowing 
 gracefully, galloped along the hne of the infantry column towardi 
 ■where the horse-brigade were forming, previously to attacking seven 
 hu idred foot, which, with a strong party of steel-clad cuirassiers, 
 occupied the city. Every eye Avas turned on the young lady as she 
 flew along the line of march, Avith her long fair ringlets, her lace veO, 
 and the skirt of her riding-habit waving wide and free about her. 
 
 " God's blessing on her bonnie face ! " _ 
 
 " Her een are as blue and hricht as the vera lift aboon ! " exclaimed 
 the soldiers, charmed with her beauty and grace. 
 
 " What a happy fellow Evelyn is to possess so fine a girl," said 
 Captain Sevan. 
 
 '^ How famously she manages that Andalusian horse ! " 
 
 " Had Evelyn been a wise man, he would have left her at home in 
 Kent. He has a splendid property there — a regular old baronial hall, 
 with its mulhoned windows and rookery, surrounded by lawns and 
 fields, where myriads of flies buzz about the ears of the gigantic 
 plough-horses in the warm Aveather. How foolish to bring a delicate 
 English lady from her luxurious home, to undergo the ten thousand 
 miseries incident to campaigning ! " 
 
 " But Avhat on earth can have brought her up from the rear just 
 noAV, Avhen her husband's corps are about to drive the enemy from 
 their position ? " 
 
 " There goes Long ! " said Campbell, exultingly flourishing his 
 stick. " Keep up your hearts, my boys ! It will be our turn, in a 
 few minutes, to give them a specimen of what we learned when in 
 Egypt Avith Sir Ealph." 
 
 It was Sir lloAvland Hill's earnest desire to capture this small 
 party of the enemy ; for which purpose the cavalry were ordered to 
 ford the Guadiana at some distance below the ruined bridge, to out- 
 flank them, and, if possible to cut ofl" their retreat. The Erench 
 battahon of infantry, dressed in blue uniform Avith Avhite troAvsers 
 (rather unusual, the Erench troops being generally very dirty in 
 their persons Avhen on service), were seen in position on the opposite 
 side of the river, dravm up in iront of some orange plantations, while 
 their squadron of cuirassiers occupied the avenues of the city, Avhere 
 their brass casques, steel corslets, and long straight swords were seen 
 flashing in the noon-day sun. While the rest of the division halted, 
 the first brigade, consisting of the 50th and 71st Highland Light 
 Infantry, 92nd Highlanders, and Captain Blacier's German Rifle 
 company, commanded by Major-general Howard, were ordered to 
 adA'ance A\ith all speed upon the town; Avhile the 9th and 13th 
 English Light Cavalry, and king's German Hussars, boldly plunging 
 into the Guadiana, SAvam their horses across the stream under a fire 
 from the carbines of the cuirassiers, Avho, on finding tbeir flank thus 
 turned, fu*ed one regular volley, Avhich unhorsed for pver many of 
 
Ii4 THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 Long's brigade, and then fled at full speed. At the same time the 
 battalion of infantry disappeared, \ntnout firing a shot, among the 
 groves in their rear. 
 
 " Forward ! double quick ; " was the word ; and, ^vith their rustlina; 
 colours bending forward on the breeze, the first brigade pressed 
 onward at their utmost speed down the descent towards the city, and 
 through its deserted streets, making their echoes ring to the clank of 
 accoutrements, and the rapid and rushing tread of many feet. The 
 ultimate escape of the enemy was favoured by the delay caused in 
 
 Sro\iding plauks to cross the blown-up arch of the Roman bridge, 
 'afters and flooring were, without ceremony, torn from some neigli- 
 bouring houses, thro^m hurriedly across the gap, and onward again 
 swept the impatient inflmtry, eager to come up mth, to encounter, 
 and capture this little band, which had so adroitly eluded them. 
 Eut for that evening they saAv them no more ; and, after a fruitless 
 pursuit for some miles, returned to Merida wearied and fatigued, 
 when the shadows of night had begun to darken the sky and 
 scenery. 
 
 Followed by ours the enemy's cavalry had retired at a gallop along 
 the level road to Almendralejo ; often they turned on the way to 
 shout " Vive rEmpereur ! " to brandish their s\^'ords, or fire a shot, 
 which now and then stretched a British dragoon rolling in the dust. 
 As the first brigade were returning towards Merida, a mournful 
 episode in my narrative came under their observation, — one which 
 calls forth all the best feelings of the soldier, when the wild excite- 
 ment of the hour of conflict has passed away. IS'ear one of those 
 rude wooden crosses, so common by the wayside in Spain, placed to 
 mark the spot where murder has been committed, lay an English 
 troop-horse in the agonies of death ; the froth and blood, oozing from 
 its quivering nostrils, rolled around in a puddle, while kicking faintly 
 with its hoofs, it made deep indentations in the smooth grassy turf. 
 Beside it lay the rider, with his glittering accoutrements scattered 
 all about. His foot was entangled in the stirrup, by which he 
 appeared to have been dragged a long way, as his uniform was torn 
 to pieces, and his body was soiled with clay and dust. A carbine- 
 shot had passed through his brain, and he was lying stark and stifi"; 
 his smart chako had rolled away, and the features of a dashing 
 English dragoon, — the once gay EveljTi, were exposed to view. 
 Beside the corse, weeping in speechless sorrow and agony, sat his 
 wife, — the same interesting young lady who had that morning drunk 
 from Ronald's canteen at the fountain. Her face was ashy pale, — 
 pale even as that of her dead soldier, — and she seemed quite uncon- 
 scious of the appr9ach of the Highlanders, who could not be restrained 
 from making an involuntary halt. Her hat and veil had fallen ofl', 
 permitting her fair curls to stream over her neck and shoulders : she 
 uttored no sound of woe or lamentation, but sat with her husband's 
 head resting on her lap, gazing on his face with a wild and terrible 
 expression, while her little white hands were bedabbled with the 
 blood which clotted his curly hair. From Merida she had seen him 
 unhorsed, and dragged away in the stirrup by his frightened steed 
 which had also been wounded. A\lth shrieks and outcries, she had 
 tracked him by the blood for two miles from the to^vn, until the 
 exhausted charger sunk doAvu to die, and she found her husband 
 thus. 
 Colonel Cameron, on approaching, sprang from his horse, and 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 14$ 
 
 raised her from the j^round, entreating her to return to Mcrida, a3 
 night was approaching, and to be left in so desolate a place was 
 unsafe and unadvisable. But she protested against being separated 
 from the corpse of her husband, and, as it was impossible to leave her 
 there, Cameron gave orders to carry Mr. Evelyn's remains to Merida. 
 A temporary bier was made in the usual manner, by fastening a 
 blanket to two regimental pikes : in this the dead officer was placed, 
 and borne off by two stout Highlanders. Mrs, Evelyn mounted her 
 Andalusian, which Evan Iverach had adroitly captured while it was 
 grazing quietly at some distance, and Cameron, riding beside her, 
 gallantly held her bridle-rein as they proceeded towards the city. It 
 was totally dark when the brigade, forming close column of regiments 
 halted in the now desolate Plaza. 
 
 The soldiers were instantly dismissed to their several billets. 
 
 That which Eonald had received was upon the hovel of a poor 
 potter, residing hear the convent of San Juan ; but instead of going 
 thither, he made straight towards the house of the old prior de v ilia 
 Eranca, at the corner of the Calle de Guadiana, earnestly hoping, as 
 he wended on his way, that it had escaped the heartless ravages he 
 saw on every side of him. 
 
 " I will show this fiery Master Lisle of ours that I have more than 
 one string to my bow, as well as the fickle Alice," he muttered aloud, 
 and in a tone of gaiety which I must own he did not entirely feel. 
 
 That morning the mails had been brought up from Lisbon, and 
 both Louis and himself had received letters from home ; and Ronald 
 concluded that there was still no letter from Alice, as Louis had, as 
 usual, not addressed him during all that day. Old Mr. Stuart's 
 letter was far from being a satisfactory one to his son. 
 
 " Inchavon," said he, in one part of it, " has now taken upon him 
 the title of Lord Lisle, and has gained a great landed property in the 
 Lothians. As these people rise, we old families seem to sink. All my 
 aflairs are becoming more inextricably involved ; the rot has destroyed 
 all my sheep at Strathonan, and a murrain has broken 9ut among 
 our black Argyleshires. The most of the tenants have failed to pay 
 their rents ; the farm towns of Tilly- whumle and Blaw-wearie were 
 burned last week, — fifteen hundred pounds of a dead loss ; and the 
 damned Edinburgh lawyers are multiplying their insolent threats, 
 their captions and homings, for my debts there ; and all here at home 
 is going to wreck, ruin, and the devil ! I trust that you keep the 
 Hon. Louis Lisle at a d.ue distance ; I know you will, for my sake. 
 Folk, hereabout, say his sister is to be married to Lord Hyndford, 
 during some part of the next month." 
 
 The last sentence Eonald repeated more than once through his 
 clenched teeth, as he stumbled forward over the rough pavement of 
 the market-place. As he looked around him, his heart sickened at 
 the utter silence and desolation which reigned everywhere ; not a 
 single light visible, save that of the silver moon and twinkhng stars. 
 
 As he approached the well-known mansion where he had spent so 
 many delightful hours, the gaunt appearance of the gable, the roof- 
 less walls, the fallen balconies, the shattered casements, informed 
 him at once that " the glory had departed." 
 
 The house had been completely gutted by fire ; and Eonald, while 
 lie gazed around him, recalled the old tales of Sir Ian Mhor's days, 
 when the savage cohorts of Cumberland (Cumberland the bloody and 
 the merciless) were let loose over the Scottish highlands. In the 
 
 L L 
 
lii} THE KOilA>'CE OF -VVAli. 
 
 •rarden, the flower-beds were trampled down and destroyed, — the 
 
 shrubbery laid wa.ste, — the marble fountain was in ruins, and the 
 
 water rushing like a mountain torrent through Catalina's favourite 
 
 walk. The utmost labour had been oxi)cnded to ruin and destroy 
 
 cverythinc, — Don Alvaro's rank and bravery having rendered him 
 
 })articulariy odious to tlio soldiers of the usurjjer, Jose])h Buonaparte. 
 
 iYasmcnts of gilded chairs, hangings, and books, were tossing about 
 
 in all directions. Some of the latter l-ir<juald took up, and saw by 
 
 the light of the moon that they had belonged to Catalinas little 
 
 library (books are a scarce commodity in Spain), and were her most 
 
 favourite authors. There wiis the romance of " Araadis de Gaul," 
 
 wTittcn by that good and valiant knight, Yasco de Loberia, "Lopez 
 
 de lluedas," " Armelina," "Eusenia," "Los Enganados," all separate 
 
 works, and other dramas and pastorals. iJut one richly-bound little 
 
 book, printed at Salamanca, the " Yidas de los Santos," upon which 
 
 iier ovi-n hand had Vvritten her name, he kept as a remembrance, — 
 
 he scarcely required one, — and bestowing a hearty malediction on the 
 
 Pi'ench, against whom he now felt the bitterest personal enmity, he 
 
 left the place with an anxious and heavy heart, intending to question 
 
 the first Espanol he should meet as to the fate of the family of Villa 
 
 Pranca. He encountered several in the streets, but none could give 
 
 him the least information ; and as he was weary \\ith the fatigues of 
 
 the day, he retired to his billet at the house of the potter. On the 
 
 way thither, a ray of light shining through a low barred window, 
 
 and the wailing as of one in deep distress, attracted his attention. 
 
 On looking in, he perceived the lady-like and gi-accful figure of 
 
 Mrs. Evelyn bending over a table, on which, muilled up in a cavalry 
 
 cloak, lay the cold remains of him she loved '•.\"ith her whole heart. 
 
 A weary dragoon, booted and accoutred, lay asleep in one corner ; in 
 
 another were grouped some Irish soldiers' Avives, smoking and sipping 
 
 aquardiente, while they listened in silence to the sorrowful meanings 
 
 of the young lady, and the lowly-muttered yet earnest prayer which 
 
 a poor Cistertian padre, almost worn out with years and privation, 
 
 offered up for the soul of the deceased, around whose bier he had 
 
 placed several candles, which he had consecrated by lighting them at 
 
 the shrine of San Juan. The chamber was ruinous and desolate, 
 
 Avithout either fire or furniture. It was, in sooth, a sad and strange 
 
 situation for the poor girl, whose fair head rested on the bosom of 
 
 the slain ; and Eonald, as he turned away, thought of what her gay 
 
 and fasliionabve friends at home would "have said could they have 
 
 seen her then, — bowed down in absorbing sorrow, %\ithout a friend to 
 
 comfort her, and st^rrounded by saualid miserv and desolation. 
 * «5 * * * 
 
 About daybreak next morning, Evelyn was buried hastily in a 
 grassy spot amon^ the ruins of the castle of Merida, — the alcalde 
 having piously objected to the burial of a heretic in consecrated 
 ground. "Without other shroud but his tattered and bloody tmiform, 
 — v/ithout other coffin than his large military cloak, — he w"as lowered 
 into thehastily-made tomb. The chajjlain of the brigade performed 
 the burial service, and he was hurriedly covered up. A volley of 
 carbines from his troop, andthe sobs of his young widovr as she stood 
 by, leaning on the arm of i'^assifern, were the last requiem of the 
 EriLili'jh dragoon. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 147 
 
 OHAPTEP. XXL 
 
 THE OUT-riCQUET. 
 
 The patron of E-onald's Lillet could not give him any information 
 al30ut I)onna Catalina, or any of the inmates of her mansion, — the 
 hotel de Villa Tranca, as the citizens named it. He knew that it 
 had been occupied by the Trench, whose commanding officer quar- 
 tered himself upon it as the best house in the place, and that his 
 soldiers had burnt it when they saw that they should be compelled 
 to abandon Merida, on the second advance of the British. Prom the 
 "iirst occupation of the town by the enemy, none of the Villa Franca 
 family had been seen. This was all the information he could obtain ; 
 and Konald was led to conclude that Catalina and her cou.sin had 
 escaped, and might be at Majorga, or some other town on the Spanish 
 frontiers. 
 
 The poor pcdron was a potter by trade, and made brown earthen- 
 ware crocks and jars, which he retailed through Estremadura, in 
 panniers slung on the back of a mule ; but he earned barely suffi- 
 cient to su})port his wife and family. Kevertheless, to show their 
 loyalty to King Perdinand, and their gratitude to his allies, the 
 ^airona had, by dint of much exertion, procured for Eonald, on the 
 morning of his departure, what was considered in Spain a tolerable 
 breakfast. 
 
 On the wooden table was placed a large crock full of boiled pork 
 and peas, opposite to which stood a jar of goat's-milk, plates of eggs, 
 dried raisins, and white bread, — even coffee was on the table ; a dis- 
 play altogether of viands that raised the wonder and increased the 
 appetites of the six hungry children vv'ho crowded round the board, 
 holding up their little brown hands with many exclamations of 
 v/onder, and cries to their madre and padre to help them ; but their 
 parents were intent on doing the honours of the table to the noble 
 caballero. 
 
 In one corner of the miserable apartment lay the glossy hide of an 
 English horse. Eonald, by some particular spots, recognised it to be 
 that of Evelyn's charger, about the flaying of which the host had 
 been employed since daybreak, intending, as he said, to make it into 
 caps and shoes for his children. The latter were all swarthy and 
 active, but sadly disguised by rags and ffitb, which obscured the 
 natural beauty of their Spanish faces and figures, excepting one little 
 girl, about ten years of age, who ai^peared to be her mother's pet, and 
 consequently was more neatly dressed. Ponald ^vas often amused at 
 the looks of wonder with which this little creature watched him 
 while eating— keeping at a distance, as if he were an ogre ; but when 
 she became more familiar, venturing to touch the black feathers oi 
 his bonnet, and other parts of his glittering di'ess, though ahvay.s 
 keeping close to the short skirt of the madre' s petticoatras if she 
 feared being eaten up, or carried off for some futiu*e meal, by the 
 strange caballero, the richness of whose uniform filled the little boys 
 with wonder and envy. 
 
 ^ At last, by dint of much entreaty, she permitted herself to be 
 di'av.n towards him. Eaising up her radiant eyes, she took a copper 
 crdcifix from her bosom, and asked him if the people in his country 
 
148 THE EOIIANCE OP WAE. 
 
 wore a tiling like that. On his telling her no, she broke away from 
 his arm, and crying, " O mi madre — the heretic ! the devil !" hid her 
 face in her mother's skirt ; while the rest of the children shrunk 
 around their father, grasping his legs for safety, and even he seemed 
 much discomposed. Not liking the idea of being regarded as a bug- 
 bear, Ronald, in the grey daylight, finished his breakfast as speedily 
 as possible, and was hurried in doing so by the warning bugles for 
 the march. 
 
 Kanald Dim and his six pipers blowing the gathering, in concert 
 with the drums of other corps beating the "assembly" in the Plaza, 
 soon followed, and he left the house of the hospitable but supersti- 
 tious potter, who Avould not accept a single maravedi for the enter- 
 tainment he had given, — a circumstance wliich Ronald did not regret, 
 his pecuniary affairs not being tlien in a very flourishing condition, 
 as the troops were three months' pay in arrear. 
 
 When the second division approached Almendralejo, they found 
 that it had been abandoned by the enemy in the night. As on the 
 march of the preceding day, the troops suffered greatly by thirst and 
 the intense heat of the weather ; and as the regiments passed 
 through in succession, the inhabitants were employed for hours 
 handing water through their barred windows to the soldiers, Avhile 
 crowds in the streets were kept running to and fro from the foun- 
 tains with all sorts of vessels, as if a general conflagration had taken 
 place. 
 
 " Viva Ferdinando ! mnera Napoleon !" cried a soft voice from the 
 balcony of a house near the Casa de Ai/untamiento, the tall spire of 
 which is visible for leagues around. 
 
 " AVho can that handsome girl be— she vfith. the tight boddice and 
 braided hair?" asked Stuart of Alister, as the corps halted, for the- 
 usual rest of five minutes, in front of the town-house. 
 
 " Handsome girl ! How should I know, Ronald. Where ? " 
 
 '' Leaning over the antique stone balcony : she has tossed a chaplet 
 among the men at the other flank of the company." 
 
 " And one fellow has placed it on the point of his bayonet. That 
 is the Senora Maria I told you of." 
 
 What ! the daughter of the ahogado ?" 
 
 " The same. I used to meet her often at the Prado and at church, 
 when we lay here. Her true knight, Angus Mackie, has obtained 
 the wreath, I perceive." 
 
 " A handsome girl, indeed ! The flowers were intended for him, 
 doubtless." 
 
 " And there is the ahogado himself," exclaimed Macdonald. " What 
 the devil is the old fellow about ?" 
 
 "\Miile they were speaking, a fierce-looking little Spaniard, with a 
 bald head and large grey moustaches, wearing an old-fashioned 
 doublet of black cloth slashed on the breast with red, rushed into the 
 balcony, and grasping the young lady by the arm, drew her roughly 
 into the house, dashing to the casement with such violence that 
 several panes of glass were shattered, — a damage, which he was 
 observed a minute afterwards to be inspecting Avith a rueful coun- 
 tenance, glass being an expensive article in Spain. He withdrew 
 with a fierce aspect as a loud laugh of derision arose from the com- 
 panies of Highlanders in the street. 
 
 To describe the wearying marches performed by the troops under 
 Sir Rowland Hill's command in that province of Spain, would be at 
 
THE llOMANCE u£ WAE. 149 
 
 once useless and uninteresting. Scouring the country of the enemy, 
 they had many a march and counter-march between Merida, La 
 Zarza, La Querena. Medelhn, and Don Benito. From the last two 
 the enemy were driven, but not without some fighting, especially at 
 JDon Benito. During that week often on the march, as they tra- 
 versed the lofty sierras or level plains, they heard, mellowed by 
 distance, the roar of the far artillery, which announced that the 
 strong city of Badajoz had been besieged by Lord AVellington, by 
 whose orders Sir Rowland's division advanced towards that plaee, to 
 form the covering army. 
 
 On the evening when it was known the fortress would be stormed, 
 while the greatest anxiety pervaded every breast for the success of 
 the great attempt, Hill's division halted and encamped near the 
 village of Lobon just about sunset. Makmg a corresponding move- 
 ment to form a junction with the second division, Sir Thomas 
 Graham, "the hero of Barossa," hovered mth his troops in the 
 direction of the heights of Albuera, ready to concentrate and repel 
 together any attempt which the great duke of Dalmatia with his 
 legions might make to relieve the beleaguered garrison of General 
 Phillipon at Badajoz, which was a few miles distant, in the rear of 
 the hamlet of Lobon. 
 
 Although the troops encamped, all were in reaxiiness to march at a 
 moment's notice to sustain the besieging army, if they should fail in 
 carrying the place. Scarcely had they halted, before the ^and 
 guards of cavalry were formed, and the out-picquets, to be furnished 
 from the first brigade, paraded and despatched to their several posts 
 where pointed out by the major of brigade. With some other offi- 
 cers this exciting duty fell upon Eonald, who, with a picquet of twenty 
 Highlanders, was directed to march to a given distance into the plain 
 in front of Lobon, halt his party, and throw forward his chain of ad- 
 vanced sentries^ extending them so that they could keep up the line 
 of communication with those of other picquets on the right and left, 
 and to double them should the weather thicken during the night. 
 
 " By what shall I kuow^ where to halt the main body of my picquet, 
 major?" asked Eonald, looking rather blankly towards the waste 
 expanse of desert plain^ which extends for more than seven leagues 
 around Badajoz. " It is as level as the very sea ; nothing bounds it 
 but the distant heights of Albuera." 
 
 " March on that star," said W technically, as he raised him- 
 self in his stirrups, and pointed tow^ards a bright planet which was 
 "'j winkling where the lingering streaks of yellow edged the dark 
 horizon, glowing like heated bars of gold through openings in the 
 dusky masses of clouds, which appeared to rest o'er Albuera, the 
 l^osition of Graham. " You will march straight upon it, and halt 
 your picquet where you find a man's head stuck upon a pole." 
 
 " Upon a pole!" 
 
 " Ay. Queer mark, is it not ?" 
 
 '•' Yery. I am to halt there ? " 
 
 '■' A dismal thing to have beside one for a whole night, — in a place 
 -as dreary, and eerie too, as the pass of Drumouchter." 
 
 " Is it the head of a murderer ?" 
 
 " Yes. His body is buried beneath it — a common practice in this 
 part of the country, I believe." 
 
 " A man's head used to be quite a common mark when 1 was in 
 Egypt with Sir Ralph Abercrombie," chimed in Campbell, who had 
 
150 THE EOllAXCE OF AVaB. 
 
 stretched himself on the dcivy t^r-iss near. " I have seen a corps 
 of turbanod Turks, reviewed near Alexandria, using the spiJced 
 heads of Frenchmen as we do our red camp-colours, as points to 
 wheel on." 
 
 "You had better take up your ground, Mr. Stuart," said the 
 brigade major, to cut short any intended story, "and remember 
 carefully to make yourself master of your situation, by examining, 
 not only the space you actually occupy, but the heij^hts within mus- 
 ket-shot, the roads and paths deading to or near the post, ascertain- 
 ing their breadth and practicability for cavalry and cannon, and to 
 ensure a ready and constant communication with the adjoining post 
 and videttes,— in the day by signals, in the night by patrols,'^ &c. ; 
 and the old fellow did not cease his long quotation from the " Regu- 
 lations," which he had gotten by rote, until compelled to do so by 
 ■want of breath. 
 
 When he made an end, and had ridden off, Eonald marched his 
 picquet in the direction pointed out, keeping as a guide the star 
 already mentioned. He soon found the haltmg-place, and there, 
 sure enough, was a human head placed upon a pole about ten feet 
 high ; and a more grisly, hairy, ferocious, and terrible face than it 
 presented, human eyes never beheld. In ferocity its expression was 
 that of Narvaez Cifuentes, but it was fixed and rigid, — the eyes 
 glassy and bursting from their sockets, — the jaws wide and open, dis- 
 playing a formidable row of large white teeth. It was much decayed 
 by the heat of the weather, although it had been only three days, 
 exposed ; and as the breeze blew swiftly past, it caused the long damp 
 tresses of black hair to wave round the hvid brow with an effect at 
 once strange and terrible. 
 
 Having posted his line of sentries to the best advantage, shoiving 
 them in what direction they were to keep a " sharp look out,"— the 
 direction where Marshal Soult lay, — he returned to the spot, where, 
 stretched upon the turf among the rest of the soldiers, he lay_ listen- 
 ing to the distant thunder of artillery, and watching the lurid light 
 which filled the horizon, continually increasing and waning as the 
 tide of conflict turned on the battlements of Badajoz. More vividly 
 at times the red light flashed across the sky, and louder came thQ 
 boom of the heavy cannon, as the salvoes were discharged against 
 the walls of the doomed city; and while the soldiers looked and 
 listened, they thought of the blood and slaughter in which they mighli 
 soon bear a part, should the present besiegers fail in the assault. 
 Although at that hour hundreds — ay. thousands, were being swept 
 into eternity, the soldiers cared not for it, apparently ; many a tale 
 ■was told at which they laughed heartily, and many a reminiscence 
 narrated of Bergen-op-Zoom, Mandora, Corunna, and other fields 
 and countless frays, in wliich some of them had borne a part. 
 
 It was a fine moonlight night ; the most distant part of the plain 
 could be distinctly seen, and the myriads of stars shone joyously, as 
 if to rival the radiance of their queen, while every blade of grass, and 
 every leaf of the scattered shrubbery, so common on Spanish plains, 
 glittered as if edged with liquid silver. Prom the dark village of 
 Lobon, and the white glimmering tents of the encampment, arose 
 the hum of voices ; from the plain through which wound theGuadiana, 
 came the murmur of its current ; and save these, no sound broke th» 
 stillness of the hour but the roar of Badajoz, which sounded afar like 
 thunder among dis'smt hills. 
 
THE E0iLiI7CE OF Vv'AE, 151 
 
 "VVliile Ronald ■u'as rei^aling himself upon a mess, consisiinj^ of a 
 few ounces of ration-beef fried in a camp-kettle lid, with a handful of 
 garhanzos or beans, which Evan had brought him from the adjacen'o 
 village, his attention was aroused by the glitter of steel on the plain, 
 advancing, as he imagined, from the direction where Soult was knowu 
 to be, and from Avhich he was expected to make some demonstration 
 to relieve General Phillipon's garrison, llonald was instantly on 
 the alert. He sprang to his feet, — ordered the picquet to " stand to 
 their arms," himself advancing a little to the front, to reconnoitre. 
 
 Perhaps there is no situation more exciting to any officer, espe- 
 cially a young one, than out-picquet duty : he is left to act entirely 
 for himself, — to rely on his own judgment, and so much depends upon 
 him in many ways, that he is apt to grow bewildered. The respon^i- 
 bility is indeed great, when the yery fate of a kingdom may depend on 
 the alertness of his sentinels, and the posts he has assigned to them. 
 Pully alive to all the duties of his situation, Ronald moved anxiously 
 to the front, and beheld a dark gi'oup advancing furiously along the 
 plain at full gallop, making straight for his post, with steel ca.sques 
 and tall lances glittering; but that they were^nly six anned horse- 
 men he could see distinctly, and the cry of ' Amigos ! amigos a la 
 guerra de la Independencia ! J^iva Esiyana !" Viva Espana !" in 
 pure Castillian, assured him that they were Spaniards ; and he sprang 
 forward just in time to arrest the arm of his advanced sentinel, who 
 had levelled his musket to fire, a circumstance which would have 
 caused the whole encamped division to get under arms. 
 
 Another moment, and the strangers came up, the hoofs of their 
 panting steeds shaking the earth, and tearing the turf as they were 
 suddenly reined in, while the white foam fell from their dilated 
 nostrils. A glance showed Ronald that they were six lances of Don 
 Alvaro's troop, escorting a party of Spanish ladies, who to his no 
 small surprise were all mounted like men, wearing wide trov/sers 
 and broad flapping sombreros, with veils and long waving plumes. 
 Although this mode of riding surprised the Scot very much, it is one 
 extremely common in some parts of Spain, Raising his hand to his 
 bonnet, he inquired which vvay they had come ? 
 
 "Ah! Don Ronald, — have you quite forgotten me, and the sad 
 night we spent in the diabolical cavern at La Nava?" exclaimed 
 Pedro Gomez, dropping the point of his lance, and causing his nettle- 
 some steed to curvet in a style more like unto a knight of chivalry 
 than a serjeant of dragoons. 
 
 " Hovv- ! Pedro, my bon camarado, is this you ? Why — how— 
 which way are you riding ? " 
 
 "Commanding an escort, senor ojjlciale ; travelling with four 
 ladies of our regiment from Segura de Leon to Idanda Nova, to 
 keep them out of harm's way." 
 
 "And the senoritas — " 
 
 " Senor it asl Pho ! Somos iodos Jiomhres," said one contempt- 
 uously in Spanish. 
 
 "All men?" reiterated Ronald in surprise. 
 
 A burst of laughter from the fair speaker followed ; and bending 
 her face close to his,— so close that her soft curls fell upon it, she 
 added, " Inesella de Truxillo. I knew not that my features were so 
 easily forgotten, even by the admirers of my cousin." 
 
 " Senora, how happy am I to see you here, and in safety ! The 
 ravages at Merida led me to expect the worst. .A.nd your cou?iq. 
 
152 THE KOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 Donna Catalina, — she is of course, with you ? " said Ilonald, looking 
 ;inxi()usly at the faces of the other three ladies. 
 
 *' O most unfortunate CataUna ! " exclaimed Inesella, beginning to 
 weep, " I fear she is for ever lost to us." 
 
 " How, Donna Inesella ? Speak, for Heaven's sake !" said Ilonald, 
 while his heart lluttered with agitation. 
 
 '' O Juan de Dios ! be her protection. She was carried off by the 
 enemy, while I escaped in consequence of the Count d'Erlon's man- 
 date. The house was destroyed by fire, and our miserable uncle, the 
 poor dear old padre, perished in it." 
 
 A deep malediction was growled by the escort, who reined their 
 horses back a few paces. 
 
 " The demons ! and by whose order was that done?" 
 
 '■ Their chef d'escadre, the Baron de Clappourknuis, or some such 
 name." 
 
 " He is now a prisoner in the castle of Belem ; but Catahna — " 
 
 " Was torn from my arms by force. A field-ofiScer of the French 
 guards carried her off across the bow of his saddle ; I heard her fear- 
 ful cries as he swani his horse across the Guadiana, on the night 
 that the British returned and attacked Merida. I have been wander- 
 ing about in several places since then, and am anxious to reach 
 Idanda Nova, Idanha a Yelha, or any place of safety, until all this 
 Terrible work is over. Mother of God ! look towards Badajoz ! The 
 sky seems all on fire ! Alas ! the poor soldiers — " 
 
 " Has Don Alvaro heard of his sister's fate ?" 
 
 " O yes, senor. Poor Alvaro ! I have had sad work cheering him 
 under the misfortune. He is now my husband," added the graceful 
 donna, blushing deeply, while her usually soft voice sunk into a 
 whisper. 
 
 '•' Oh, indeed ! I am most happy, Donna Inesella, to hear But 
 
 how could you celebrate so joyous an event while so great a mystery 
 hangs over the fate of poor Catalina?" 
 
 " O Don Ronald ! I know not," replied the young lad3% confasedly. 
 " What a very strange question to ask !" 
 
 '■ Pardon me, senora !" 
 
 " Santa Maria ! I am not angry with you ; but Don Alvaro is so 
 
 very impetuous, and fearing the chance of war But ah ! senor, 
 
 we must bid you adieu if we would reach the city of Elvas before 
 dawn, and 'tis many good leagues from Lobon." 
 
 The other ladies, who had become impatient at the delay, now 
 proposed to ride on, and the arrival of the field-officer on duty, to 
 visit the out-picquet, put an end to the conversation. Ronald briefly 
 pointed out to them, to the best of his knowledge, the safest road to 
 Elvas, and the one by which bands of roving guerillas were least 
 likely to be met with ; and then hurried ofi" to the post, while the 
 ladies and their escort galloped in the direction of Lobon. 
 
 Ronald watched the helmets and spears of the troopers, and the 
 waving feathers of the ladies, as long as they were in sight ; and so 
 negligent was he during the inspection of his picquet, that, to use a 
 mess-room phrase, he gained a hearty roicinr/ from old Lieutenant- 
 colonel Macdonald, the senior major of his regiment, who was mighty 
 indignant at the absence of mind he displayed, and the general 
 answers he gave to questions asked of him. But it was not to be 
 wondered at : his thoughts were Avith Catalina, and his bosonx nas a 
 prey to a greater degree of anxiety and uneasiness than he had felt 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAK. 153 
 
 for a very long time. That Catalina, the proud, the gentle, and the 
 beautiful, should be a captive in the hands of so unscrupulous an 
 enemy as the French, subjected to their insolence, and perhaps 
 barbarity^ filled him with thoughts that stung him almost to madness • 
 and, findmg it impossible to sleep, although the grass was soft as 
 velvet, and the bright moon was shining gloriously, he remained 
 walking to and fro between the piles of arms until daylight, watch- 
 ing the waning blaze of Badajoz, and listening to the noise of the 
 assault as the night-wind, sweeping over the plain, brought it to his 
 ear. Intently he watched the light ; and when, towards morning, 
 the boom of "the red artillery" died away, he almost hoped that the 
 assault had failed, and that an order would arrive for the second 
 division to advance to support the besiegers, that he might have an 
 opportunity of meeting hand to hand the enemy, against whom he 
 had conceived a peculiar feeling of detestation ; or that he might have 
 the desperate honour of leading a forlorn-hope, an affair, by the bye, 
 of which he had as yet but a very slight conception. The (fin of war, 
 which had lasted the live-long night, ceased at day-break, and the 
 flashes of cannon and musketry were no longer seen on the ramparts 
 of the capital of Estremadura, in the direction of which all eyes were 
 anxiously turned, although it is not distinctly visible from Lobon. 
 
 About sunrise a British staff-officer spurred his horse furiously 
 into the encampment. He was covered with dust, and even blood ; his 
 plumes were gone, and his whole appearance told of the part he had 
 acted in the dangers of the past night, and the speed with which he 
 had ridden. It was towards Eonald's picquet that he advanced. 
 
 "What news from Badajoz ?" cried the latter. 
 
 " Glorious ! glorious ! " replied he, evidently in a fierce state of 
 exultation, full of wild excitement and tumult, as one might be sup- 
 posed to be who had spent such a night of accumulated horrors, 
 while he checked with some difficulty the headlong speed of his jaded 
 charger. " I have not a moment to spare : where arc t l.\e quarters of 
 General Hill?" 
 
 " Our troops have carried the place, then ?" 
 
 " Again, again, and again the columns were repulsed with frightful 
 slaughter ; but again and again the assault was renewed, fighting as 
 ice alone can fight. Badajoz is in ruins, — but it is ours ; the breaches 
 and ditches are filled with the dead and the dying. Phillipon, re- 
 tiring to fort San Christoval, surrendered his garrison prisoners of 
 war this morning at daybreak, after doing all that mortal men could 
 do !" A cheer arose from the picquet, who crowded round. 
 
 " And our loss — " 
 ^ " Pour thousand killed, wounued, and missing, — rough calculation ; 
 that of the enemy five thousand." 
 
 " Nine thousand in one night !" 
 
 " A strange trade is war, truly ! but a night such as the last is an 
 era in a man's lifetime. Sir Rowland's quarters, where are they ?" 
 
 '' The cottage yonder — " 
 
 " With the vine-covered chimney and broad eaves ?" 
 
 " Under the chesnuts.'* 
 
 " Thanks. Fighting is in store for you in the neighbourhood of 
 Truxillo ; you mil know it all in good time. Adieu.'' 
 
 Dashing his gory rowels into the flanks of his horse, he galloped 
 towards the tented camp. Immediately on his reaching it, a tremen- 
 dous cheer arose among the soldiers, who came rushing from their 
 
15'1 THE nOifAXCi: OF WAK. 
 
 tents ami cantonments in the village. Infantry cliakoes, grenadier 
 caps, and Highland bonnets were tossed into the air, — caught, and 
 tossed up again. The regimental bands played " Rule Britannia," 
 and other national airs; while, amid the shouts, cheers, and rolling 
 of drums, were hoard the pipers of the Highland regiments blowing, 
 " There's nae folk like our ain folk," as they paraded to and fro before 
 the quarters of the general, who, to increase the rejoicing, ordered 
 an extra ration of rum to be served out to every man on the occasioa 
 by the commissary. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 THE FLAG OF TETJCE. 
 
 About a fortnight after this, Sir Eowland Hill reviewed his divi- 
 sion of the army near the town of Almendralejo. In the evening, a 
 strong detachment, consisting of the first brigade of infantry, part of 
 the second brigade, a body of British cavah-y, artillery, and Por- 
 tuguese ca(;adores, were selected from the division, and marched an 
 hour before daybreak next morning, pursuing the road to Madrid 
 under the command of the general liimself, who left Sir WilUam 
 Erskine in charge of the remainder of the division, which continued 
 in cantonments at Almeudi-alejo. 
 
 That some great enterprise was on foot there could be no doubt, 
 from the secrecy maintained by the general as to the object of the 
 march, the sohtary places through which their route lay after leav- 
 ing the Madrid road, and the deserted places in which they con- 
 cealed their bivouacs at night. Great excitement existed among the 
 troops, and many were the surmises as to what might be the ulti- 
 mate object of this sudden expedition, until it became known that 
 to force the pass of INIiravete, and destroy certain forts erected at the 
 bridge of Almarez on the Tagus, were the intentions of their leader. 
 
 On the evening of the 15th May the troops destined for this parti- 
 cular ser\'ice entered the city of Truxillo, the place from which Don 
 Balthazzar takes his title. It is, like most Spanish cities, situated 
 on a rocky eminence, contains about four thousand inhabitants, a 
 handsome Plaza, and several churches. Eonald was billeted on the 
 very house in which the famous conqueror of America, Pizarro, was 
 born, and the mouldered coat-armorial of whose noble family yet 
 appeared over the entrance-door. He had just finished a repast of 
 hashed mutton and garlic, — time had reconciled him to the latter, — 
 and was discussing a few jugs of Xeres seco with his host, when the 
 serjeant-major of the Gordon Highlanders, tapping at the door with 
 his cane, warned him to join Captain Stuart's out-picquet as a super- 
 numerary subaltern. 
 
 His host, Don Gonzago deConquesta, a lineal descendant of Pizarro, 
 was detailing the once great honours of his now decayed house when 
 this unwelcome intelligence was brought to Stuart, who, snatching 
 his cloak and sword, vented a malediction on the adjutant, and 
 departed in no pleasant mood, bearing with him a couple of bottles 
 of the Xeres seco, which were pressed upon him by Don Gonzago, 
 who said that he never went on duty (he was a Capitan de Cazadores) 
 without F'enty of liquor. It was a lesson he had learned in his 
 
THE EOilAJS'CE OF WAR. 155 
 
 campaigns " under the great General Liniers, at Buenos Ayres, in 
 1807." "The out-picquet, which Ronald departed to join, was posted 
 near the river Almonte, at the base of the large mountain, on the 
 summit and sides of which. appeared the three divisions of TruxiUo, 
 — the castle, the city, and the town, as they are styled. And often, 
 as he hurried down the hill, he looked back at the picturesque 
 Spanish city, with its Gothic spires and belfries, its embattled fortress 
 lines of frowning ramparts built on masses of rock, and its thousand 
 casements, gleaming like burnished gold in the Ught of the setting 
 sun. 
 
 It was a beautiful evening : the air was cool and balmy,— the sky 
 blue and cloudless, and the clear atmosphere showed vividly the 
 various tints of the extensive landscape, where yellow fields, green 
 thickets, and the windings of the Almonte stretched away far in the 
 distance. 
 
 The chain of sentinels were posted along the sedgy banks of the 
 river, and on a green grassy knoll beside it, amid groves where the 
 yellow orange and clustering grape were ripening in the sun, sat 
 E/Onald and the officer commanding the picquet, Captain Stuart of 
 the 50tli regiment, discussing the flasks of Xeres seco. While they 
 were conversing on the probable issue of the intended attack on the 
 castle of Miravete and the French forts at Almarez, a sentry by the 
 river-side passed the word of alarm, that some of the enemy were in 
 motion on the other side of the stream. 
 
 Far do^^Ti the Almonte, advancing over the level ground from the 
 direction of the Madrid road, appeared four figures on foot, and the 
 glitter of polished metal showed that they Avere armed men. 
 
 "Mr. Stuart," said the captain of the picquet, "take with you a 
 file of men and a bugler^ and see who these may be. You may cross 
 here,— I suppose the river is fordable. Should you see any tiling 
 suspicious farther off, let the bugle-boy sound, to warn us." 
 
 This promises to be an adventure," said Eonald, fixing his sword 
 in his belt, and preparing to start. " A flag of truce, probably, sent 
 from the castle of Miravete." 
 
 " ]Most likely : they have come from that direction. Sir Eowland 
 will be ill pleased to think the enemy know of his vicinity. But as 
 these communications are generally only for the purpose of recon- 
 noitering and gaining irtelligence, you must be careful to frustrate 
 any such intentions by answering reservedly all questions, and 
 beware that their cunning does not out-flank your caution." 
 
 " Fear not : man to man if they — " 
 
 " Nay : should it be a flag of truce, you must receive it with all 
 attention and courtesy; but you had better move ofi", and meet 
 them as far from here as possible." 
 
 " There are two stout fellows of my own company here ; I will 
 take them with me. Ewen Macpherson Mackie, unpile your arms, 
 and follow me. Look sharp there, men ! " 
 
 Accompanied by two sturdy Highlanders, and a bugler of the 50th 
 foot, he crossed the Almonte, which took them up to the waist, and 
 scrambling over the opposite bank, advanced towards the strangers 
 without feeling much discomfort from the wetting, — fording a river 
 being with them a daily occurrence. 
 
 Four French soldiers appeared to be coming straight towards them, 
 through the middle of a waving field of yellow corn, treading it 
 down in a remorseless manner, that would have put any blufl'Eug- 
 
IW THJC EOilANCE 01 WAK. 
 
 lish farmer or douce gude-nian of the Lothians at his wits' end, had 
 lie seen tliem. It appeared to be a toilsome pathway, as it rose 
 breast-high, and in some places hid them altogether, save the tops of 
 their grenadier caps. On gaining the skirts of the lield, they broke 
 their way through the lofty vine-trellis which covered the road like 
 a long green arbour, and could now be perfectly discerned ; and as 
 they neared each other, Ronald felt a degree of excitement and 
 ].lcasure roused within him, for which it was not difficult to accountj 
 This being his first meeting with the enemy in arms. 
 
 Two of them were tall Erench grenadiers in dark great-coats, 
 adorned with large red worsted epaulets, wearing heavy bear-skin 
 caps and hairy knapsacks, and had their bayonets fixed on their 
 long muskets. 
 
 In front advanced an officer, wearing the same sort of cap, and the 
 rich uniform of the old Guard. A little tamhoi'.r, with his brass 
 drum slung on his back, trotted beside him. 
 
 " Halt ! exclaimed Ronald, when they Avere about four hundred 
 yards oif. " "With ball-cartridge prime and load." 
 
 The performance of this action was seen by the strangers. The 
 little tambour beat a long roll on his drum ; and the officer, halting 
 his tile of grenadiers, displayed a white handkerchief, and advanced 
 alone. Ronald did so likewise, and they met at an equal distance from 
 their respective parties. The officer (whose brown cheek bore witness 
 of service) wore the little gold cross that show^ed he Avas a Chevalier 
 de la Legion d'Honneur, and raising his hand to his grenadier-cap in 
 salute, he pulled from the breast of liis coat a long sealed despatch. 
 
 "Monsieur officier," said he, "here is a communication from Mar- 
 shal Soult to General Sir Rowland Hill, which I have the honour to 
 request you Avill see forwarded." 
 
 Ronald bowed and took the lettei:, surprised to hear such pure 
 English spoken by a Frenchman ; while the latter unslung a metal 
 flask which hung at his waist-belt, to share its contents in friendship. 
 
 " Croix Dieu .'" he exclaimed, starting back with a look of recog- 
 nition and surprise. "Ah, Monsieur Stuart, mon ami, have you 
 forgotten me quite ? Do you not remember Victor D'Estouvillc 
 and the castle of Edinburgh ? " 
 
 Ronald gazed upon him in astonishment. 
 
 " D'Estouville ! is this indeed you ? " 
 
 " I am happy to say it is ; who else could it be, monsieur ? I was 
 very tired of being a prisonnier de guerre in that gloomy bastile in the 
 Scottish capital ; but an exchange of prisoners took place soon after 
 YOU left it, and now I am again a free man, fighting the battles of the 
 Emperor, with the eagle over my brow, and wearing my belted 
 sword. Brave work it is, — but I am as miserable now as I was then." 
 
 "Hard fighting and no promotion, perhaps?" 
 
 " We have plenty of both in the service of the great Emperor. I 
 am now major in the battalion of the Guard." 
 
 " Allow me to congratulato you. And — and — what was the lady's 
 name ? Diane de Montmichel ?" 
 
 " C'est le diable !" muttered he, while his cheek grew pale as death ; 
 l)ut the emotion instantly passed away, and a bold and careless look 
 replaced it. 
 
 D'Estouville, you did not find her faithless, I hope r" 
 
 ^ 1 found her only Madame la Colonelle, as we say in our service." 
 
THE SOilANCE OF WAR. 157 
 
 " The wife of your colonel ! How mucli I regret to hear it. The 
 devil ! I think women arc all alike perfidious." 
 
 "Perfidious indeed, Monsieur Stuart, as many a husband and 
 lover, on his return from captivity, finds to his cost. But I mean to 
 revenge myself on the whole sex, and care no more for the best of 
 them than for the meanest ^Z^e dejoie that ever was horsed through 
 a camp on the wooden steed. On my return to Prance, I hastened 
 to the valley of Lilleboune ; but it was no longer a paradise to me. 
 My sisters were all married to knaves who cared nothing for me, and 
 a grassy grave in the churchyard was all that remained to me of my 
 dear mother. Eut misericorde ! la belle Diane was no longer there, 
 — she had become the wife of my colonel, the Baron de Clappour- 
 knuis, forgetting poor Victor D'Estouville, her first love (that which 
 romances make such a fuss about) ; he who had preferred her before 
 all the maidens of the valley of Lillebonne, — and there they are 
 numerous and as beautiful as the roses." 
 
 " Learn to forget her, D'Estouville ; you may find it — " 
 
 " She is forgotten as my love. Croix Dieic ! nay, more ; she is 
 forgiven." 
 
 " And she is now Baroness Clappourknuis ? 
 
 " Oni, monsieur, — such, I suppose, she would rather be, with the 
 Doorish old colonel for her husband, than the wife of Victor 
 D'Estouville, a poor siihalterne as I was then." 
 
 " Certes, you have got rapid promotion. And you are really now 
 a major ? " said Eonald, feeling a little chagrin. " I am still only an 
 ensign, — sub-lieutenant, I believe you style it." 
 
 " JDiahle ! your promotion is long of coming, especially in these 
 times, when heads are broken like egg-shells. But I would rather 
 have my peace of mind, than promotion to the baton of a marshal 
 of the empire." 
 
 " Then you have not forgotten her, although you so often protest 
 you have ? " 
 
 " I have forgotten to love her, at least. Teste ! I am quite cured 
 of that passion. I can regard her, and speak of her with the utmost 
 nonchalance ; and, as a proof, I volunteered to bring this letter from 
 the duke of Dalmatia to your general, relative to procuring the 
 release of the baron, my chef, by exchanging him for some British 
 prisoners captured at Villa Garcia, where, by some misadventure, 
 our rear-guard was so severely cut up by your heavy cavalry under 
 Sir Stapleton Cotton. You see. Monsieur Stuart, I am so calmed 
 down in this matter, that I can, even without a pang, negotiate for 
 the restoration of her husband to her arms." 
 
 At that moment a bugle from Captain Stuart's post sounded, as 
 if warning Ronald to retire. 
 
 " A bugle-call," said D'Estouville; "the officer commanding the 
 outrpicquet has lost his patience." 
 
 " I must now bid you farewell ; we may soon meet again, but in 
 less pleasant circumstances." 
 
 " Then you do mean to carry Miravete ? " said the Frenchman 
 with sudden animation. 
 
 " I have not said so," replied Eonald, coldly. " I merely said we 
 might meet — " 
 
 " Not unlikely, if your general comes further this way. The forts 
 of Napoleon and Eagusa> covering the bridge of the Tagus at Almarez, 
 
158 THE KOMANCE OF WAE, 
 
 and the town of Miravetc, det>nded as they are by the bravest hearts 
 of the old Guard, might bar the passage of Xerxes with his host." 
 
 "But surely not against the capturors of Badajoz and Ciudad 
 jiodrigo ? " said llonald, gently, with a smile. 
 
 " Feste ! ovi. These were mLsadveutures, and the great Emperor 
 ■will soon make us amends. There was something va'ong in this last 
 affaii* at Badajoz ; yet the soldiers fought well, and Philhpon, their 
 general, is, as we say, guenner sans peur et sans reproche" replied 
 the I'^renchman, while a flush of indignant shame crossed his bronzed 
 cheek, and he twisted up his heavy moustache v^ith an air of military 
 pride and ludicrous confusion. 
 
 Again the bugle sounded from the other side of the river, warning 
 them to part. D'Estouville uncorked his flask, and filling up the 
 stopper, which held about a wine-class, with brandy, presented it to 
 ilonald, and they di*ank to each otter. The two grenadiers of the 
 Guard, their tambour, the two Highlanders, and the young bugler, 
 were now beckoned to advance, and D'Estouville shared the contents 
 of his flask among them, while they shook hands all round heartily, 
 and regarded each other's uniform, accoutrements, and bronzed 
 visages with evident curiosity. 
 
 '■' \Ve have drunk to the health of your General HilL Cestun 
 vietix routier, as we Frenchmen say," observed D'Estouville, replacing 
 Ms empty flask. '"'As for your leader. Monsieur Wellington, I 
 cannot say I admire him : he is not the man to gain the love of the 
 soldier. No medals, — no ribands, — no praise in the grand bulletin, — 
 no crosses like this won under his command, I'ive VEinpe-rcur ! 
 The great Napoleon is the man for these, — the man for a soldier to 
 live and die under. Bvit I must bid you farewell — without returning 
 what you so kindly lent me in the castle of Edinburgh." 
 
 " I beg you will not mention it." 
 
 "There is little use in doing so, all the gold I have being on my 
 shoulders. Nom d'un pape I never ^rlll I forget your kindness. But 
 I hope your general has no intention of beating up our quarters at 
 Almarez ? " 
 
 "I have not heard that such is his intention/' said Eonald, 
 colouring at the equivocal nature of his reply. 
 
 " We are very comfortable there at present ; quite country quarters, 
 in fact." 
 
 " How ! are you stationed there ? " 
 
 '•' I am commandant of the forts of the bridge. A wing of my own 
 battalion of the Guard forms part of the ganison. But we must 
 part now, monsieur. How dark the evening has become ! Almarez 
 is a long way off among the mountains, and we shall barely reach it 
 by to-morrow. I am anxious to return and console a certain lady 
 there, Avho has, I suppose, been pining very much in my absence." 
 
 " Indeed ! 'Tis no wonder, then, that Diane de Montmichel is so 
 easily forgotten." 
 
 " Peste ! I am executing but a part of my grand plot of vengeance 
 against the sex," replied the other gaily. "I am a droll fellow, 
 monsieur, but quite the one for a soldier. The young creature is 
 superbly beautiful. I captured her at a toviTi near this a few weeks 
 ago, and carried her to Almarez, to enliven my quarters there. But 
 diabh ! she is ever drooping like a broken lily, weeping and up^ 
 braidin 
 return 
 
 ig me in Spanish ; but I must make a bold effort, when I 
 , to carry her heart by escalade. 1 have half won the out- 
 
THE liOMANCE OF WAR. 159 
 
 works already, I believe. Soldals .'" cried he, turning quickly round, 
 " portez vos armes ; demi-tour a droite, — marcTie ! " 
 
 He touched his cap and went off with his party, saying, in a loud 
 and laughing tone, '' Adieu, mon ami; when I return to Almarez, I 
 shall speak of you to la helle Cataline." 
 
 Eonald, who had listened to his last observations with some 
 emotion, started at the name he mentioned, and would have recalled 
 him ; but a long, loiid, and angry bugle-blast from the out-picquet 
 compelled him to retire and recross the Almonte, but he cast many 
 an anxious glance after the dark and lessening figures of IJ'Estouville 
 and his soldiers, as they toiled their way through the field of tall 
 corn. 
 
 The evening had now given place to the night, the last trace of 
 day had faded from the mountainous ridge of the Lina, and the 
 waning moon was shming coldly and palely above the spires and 
 castle of Truxillo, 
 
 "Mr. Stuart," said one of the soldiers, as they marched along 
 under the dark shadows of the thick and gloomy vine-treliis, " if i 
 micht daur to advise, it wadna be amiss to ask that chield with the 
 sark owre his claes, what he means by followin' us aboot, as he has 
 dune, glintin' and glidin' here and there in the gloaming." 
 
 " Who — where, ^lacpherson ? " 
 
 " Under the vine-trees, on your riclit hand, sir." 
 
 Eonald now perceived, for the first time, a priest in a light grey 
 cassock or gown, which enveloped his whole body, keeping pace with 
 them — taking step for step, at a short distance. 
 
 " He has been close beside ye, sir," continued the soldier, " the 
 haill time ye were speaking to the Irenchman, — listening and 
 glowering wi' een like a gosshawk, although he aye kcepit himsel sac 
 close amang the leaves o' the bushes, that you couldna see him as 
 we did." 
 
 " Do 3'ou really_ say so ? What can the fellow's object be? By 
 the colour of his robe, he looks like one of the l^ranciscans of 
 Merida," said Eonald, considerably interested while he watched the 
 priest narrowly, and saw that he was evidently moving in time Avith 
 them, but keeping himself concealed as much as pos.>ible among the 
 poles of the trellis- work, and the vines which were twisted around 
 them. 
 
 " Holloa, Senor Padre, holloa ! " cried Stuart. But no sooner did 
 he speak, than the mysterious padre glided away, and, as any monlc 
 of romance would have done, disappeared, and no further trace could 
 they find of him at that time. j\Iany were the surmises of the soldiers 
 about the matter, and Ewen Macpherson, a Gael from Loch Oich, 
 gave decidedly his opinion _ that "it v.as something no cannie." 
 But the affair passed immediately from the mind of Eonald, whose 
 thoughts were absorbed in the idea that Donria Catalina Mas a 
 prisoner in the hands of the French. It roused a thousand stirring 
 and harrowing emotions within him ; and forgetting that he was 
 observed, he often muttered to himself, and grasped his sword with 
 energy, as they hurried along. 
 
 Fording the Almonte again, they clambered up the bank, and on 
 gaming the grassy knoll, Eonald presented Soult's letter to Captain 
 Stuart, from whom he endured a very disagreeable cross-questioning 
 as to what his long conversation Avith the Frenchman had been 
 about. He found his sentiments of regard for D'Estouville very 
 
150 THE BOiliJN^CE OF WAE. 
 
 much lessened when he appeared in the new character of a rival, 
 and eagerly he longed for the assault on Almarez, that he might 
 have an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and, if possible, freemg 
 Catalina at the point of the sword. Often he repented not having 
 followed D'Estouville at all risks, and commanded him, on his 
 honour, to treat the lady with the respect which was due to her rank 
 and sex. 
 
 It was a clear moonlight night, and he lay awake on the grassy 
 sod, musing on these matters, and thinking of Alice Lisle and the 
 relation in which he stood to her. Old Stuart, the captain of the 
 picquet, after having drained the last drop of the X??ts .seco, had 
 wrapped himself up in his cloak, and went to sleep under a bush, 
 Avith a stone for a pillow. Prom his reverie Ronald was aroused by 
 seeing, close by, the same figure of the monk in the grey tunic, 
 e\idently watching him, and \nth no common degree of mterest, as 
 his eyes seemed to sparkle under the laps of his cowl, in a manner 
 which gave him a peculiar and rather uncomfortable aspect. 
 
 " Ho ! the picquet there ! " cried Stuart, springing to liis feet, and 
 making a plunge among the orange foliage where the figure had 
 appeared. " Holloa, sentry ! seize that fellow ! Confound it, he has 
 escaped ! " he added, as the appearance vanished again, without 
 leaving a trace behind. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ALMAEEZ. 
 
 It was Sir Rowland Hill's intention, in order to keep his move- 
 ments concealed from the enemy, to march his troops in the night, 
 and halt them before daAATi in the wood of Jarciejo, situate about 
 half-Avay between Almarez and Truxillo. 
 
 On the night of the intended departure from the latter place, 
 Ronald sat late with the worthy descendant of Pizarro, Captain Don 
 Gonzago, listening to his long stories about that " famous and noble 
 cavalier General Liniers, and the campaigns of Buenos Ayres," until 
 the shrill bugles at the hour of midnight sounded " the assemhly" 
 through the echoing streets of the city. In ten minutes the whole 
 of the troops destined to force the strong places of the Prench were 
 under arms, and the snapping of flints, the ringing of steel ramrods^ 
 the tramp of cavalry and clash of artillery guns, travelling caissons 
 and clattering tumbrils carrjang the tools of sappers, miners, 
 pioneers, &3., gave token of the coming strife. 
 
 Many a flickering light from opened casements streamed into the 
 dark street on the bronzed visages and serried files of the passing 
 troops, whom they greeted with many a viva ! or hurrah ! 
 
 Departing from the ancient house of Pizarro, Ronald hurried 
 through the dark and strange streets towards the muster-place, and 
 twice on his way thither was his path crossed by the priest men- 
 tioned in my last chapter ; but the pale outline of his figure eluded 
 his search, — the first time by disappearing under the black piazzas of 
 the to\'VTi-house, and the second time in th/T'. deep gloomy shadow of 
 the cloisters of San Jago de Compostella and although Ronald 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAK. Ittl 
 
 eagerly loug-ad to follow him, so much was he pressed for time, thai 
 he found it impossible to do so. 
 
 Without the sound of drum or horn, they began their midnight 
 march, descending from Truxillo towards the Almonte, — the soldiers 
 carrying with them, in addition to their heavy accoutren: ^nts, axes, 
 sledge-hammers, and iron levers, to beat down stockades any? gates, 
 and scaling-ladders to aid the assault ; which cumbersome luinle- 
 ments they bore forward by turns during the dreary night-march. 
 
 Oh, the indescribable annoyances and weariness of such a march ! 
 To feel oneself overpowered with sleep, and yet be compelled to 
 trudge on through long and unknown routes and tracts of countrj' — 
 seeing with heavy and half-closed ej-es the road passing by like a 
 running stream, no sound breaking the monotonous tread of the 
 marching feet — to drop asleep for a moment, and be unpleasanUy 
 aroused by your nodding head coming in contact with the knapsack 
 of a front file — to trudge on, on, on, while every limb and fibre is 
 overcome with lassitude, and having the comfortable assurance that 
 many will be knocked on the head before daybreak, while your 
 friends at home are lying snugly in bed, not knowing or caring a jot 
 iibout the matter. 
 
 Before da^vTi the detachments were secreted and bivouacked in the 
 wood of Jarciejo, where they remained the whole day, keeping close 
 within its recesses, as they were now in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of the enemy, t:pon whose strongholds a night-attack was 
 determined to be made. Before morning broke, Eonald had an 
 opportunity of bringing to a parley the monk, who appeared to dog 
 him in so mysterious and sinister a manner. 
 
 Standing under the dark shade of a large chesnut, as if for conceal- 
 ment, he suddenly es])ied the glimmer of his long and floating grey 
 cassock. The young Highlander agilely sprung forward, and caught 
 him by the cope, when, as usual, he was about to fly. 
 
 "WeD, reverend padre, I have caught you at last! How now, 
 senor ? " 
 
 "What mean you, caballero ? " asked the priest grufifly, turning 
 boldly upon him. 
 
 " Priest ! I demand of you," replied the other angrily, " your inten- 
 tions ? Your following me about thus cannot be for good : answer 
 me at once, if you dare ! I will drag you to the quarter-guard, and 
 have you unfrocked, — by Heaven I will, if you answer me not 
 instantly." 
 
 "Sombre,! understand you not," said the priest insolently. "Un- 
 hand my cope, senor officiale, or, demonio ! I have a dagger — " 
 
 " A dagger ! How, you rascally padre ! dare you threaten me ? " 
 
 "Why not, if you grasp me thus ?" answered he in a tone, the 
 (leepness and ferocity of which caused llonald to start. " Unhand 
 me, senor cavalier, or it may be the ^vorse for you in the end. I am 
 a holy priest of el Conventc de todos Santos, at Merida, and bear a 
 letter from the corregidor to Sir Eiowland Hill, who has employed 
 me as his guide." 
 
 " I believe you not : you are no priest, but some cursed spy of 
 Soult's, and if so, shall hang before sunrise. Draw back his cowl 1 " 
 said Stuart to the soldiers, who thronged round. 
 
 " Santos- Saniissimns ! O Madre de Dies!" cried the other, evi- 
 dently in tribulation, " touch it not, lest ye commit a grievous sin. I 
 -am under a vow, which ye comprehend not. l) nhand me, noble 
 
163 THE KOlfANCE OP WAJR, 
 
 cavalier ! I am but a poor priest, and may not contend with armed 
 soldiers." 
 
 The fjniff voice of the priest died away in a whining tone ; and at 
 this crisis, up came the bri??ado-major, saying that Sir llowlund 
 syished to speak ^ntll the jruide, adding that he was astonished to 
 find an ollicor l)ra\vling with a monk, and expounded, for Ronald's 
 benefit, the Avhole of the ][)rosy passages in general orders relating to 
 " guides," "conciliation ot the Spaniards," &e. &c. 
 
 The priest brolce away, and followed him through the wood, 
 bestowing as he departed a hearty malediction on Ronald as a sacri- 
 legious heretic, who, although he valued it not a rush, was surprised 
 at such an ebullition of wrath from a friar, — a character in Spain 
 generally so meek, humble, and conciliating. 
 
 The dagger, too ! The mention of it had aroused all his suspicion, 
 and he resolved to watch the reverend father more narrowly in 
 future; and yet General Hill must have been well assured of his 
 honour and veracity, before he would trust to his guidance on so 
 important an occasion as the present. 
 
 Arrangements having been made for a night attack upon the 
 enemy, the troops were again under arms at dusk, mustered and 
 called together from the dingles of the wood, as noiselessly as possible 
 by voices of orderlies, and not by note of bugle or bagpipe. Formed 
 in three columns, they quitted the forest of Jarciejo, and followed 
 the route pointed out by the guide. 
 
 Another long and weary night-march was before them, — a night 
 that might have no morning for some of them ; but they entertained 
 not such dismal reflections, and remembered only a high spirit of 
 emulation, which the recent captures of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz 
 called forth. The night was intensely dark, not a star lit the vast 
 black dome of heaven, and each column, guided by a Spaniard who 
 knew the country well, set out upon its separate march. The first, 
 composed of the gallant 28th (familiarly known as the slashers) and 
 ■ 34th regiments, with a battalion of Portuguese cagadores, under the 
 orders of General Chowne, were directed to take by storm the tower 
 of Miravete, — a fortress crowning the summit of a rugged hill, 
 rising on one side of the mountain pass to which it gave its name, 
 and through which the road to Madrid lies. 
 
 The second column, commanded by General Long, was directed to 
 storm the works erected by the garrison of Miravete across the pass, 
 which consisted of a strong gate, ^vith breast-work and pahsadoes, 
 loopholed for musketrj^, and defended by cannon. 
 
 General Howard's, or the first brigade, formed the third column, 
 composed of the .^,Oth regiment, the 71st Higliland Light Infantry, 
 and the Gordon Highlanders, together -with some artillery. Those 
 marched by the mountains ; the priest acting as their guide to the 
 forts at the bridge of Almarez, which they were ordered to " take at 
 the point of the bayonet." Sir Rowland Hill accompanied them, 
 riding beside the grey padre, who had been accommodated with a 
 mule, with a dozen bells jangling at its bridle. 
 
 The night, as I have already said, was intensely dark ; a general 
 blackness enveloped the whole surrounding scenery, and the summits 
 of the gloomy mountains among which they marched could scarcely 
 be discerned from the starless sky that closed behind them like a 
 vast sable curtain. Many hours more than the general had ever 
 iralculatod upon were spent on the way, and numerous suspicions of 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF VVAE 163 
 
 the guide's knowledge or veracity were entertained ; yet to all ques- 
 tions lie replied with some monkish benediction, muttered in a 
 snuflling tone, and insisted that the route he led them was the nearest 
 to the village of Almarez. 
 
 But many a malediction did the heavily-armed soldiers bestow on 
 their monkish guide, and the desolate and toilsome way he led them. 
 Struggling through dark defiles and narrow gorges, encumljcred witti 
 fallen trees and rugged masses of rock, twisted brushwood, and 
 thickets, every one of which might, for aught they knew, contain a 
 thousand riflemen in ambush, — through toilsome and sh])pery chan- 
 nels of rushing streams, — over immense tracts of barren mountainous 
 waste, they were led during the whole of that night, the ]iriest's 
 grey cope and cassock waving in the gloom as he rode at the head of 
 the cokmm, appearing like the ignis-faimis, Avhich led them about 
 until, at last, when morning was drawing near, the column halted 
 in the midst of a deep swamp, which took some ankle deep, an'i 
 others above their leggins or gartered hose, in water, — the reverend 
 padre declaring, by the sanctity of every saint in the calendar, he 
 knew not whereabouts they were. A scarce-smothered malison broke 
 out from front to rear, and the soldiers stamped their feet in the 
 water from pure vexation. Close column was now formed on the 
 50th regiment, and Sir Eowland questioned the padre in so angry a 
 tone, that the whole brigade heard him. 
 
 " Hold the bridle of his mule, and cut him down should he attempt 
 to fly," said he to his orderly dragoon. " And now, scnnr padre, 
 answer me directly, and attempt not to prevaricate ; for by Heaven if 
 you do, you will find your cassock no protection fro^u the halberts or 
 a musket-shot, — one or other you shall feel without ceremony." 
 
 " Noble caballero," urged the padre. 
 
 " SHence ! This night you have played the traitor to Ferdinand, 
 to Spain, and to us. Is it not so ? " 
 
 " No, senor general," replied the other stoutly. 
 
 "Through your instrumentality, the attack on Almarez has 
 failed." 
 
 " Ira se en hiimo ;"* replied the priest, doggedly, 
 
 " Do you mock us, rascal ?" 
 
 " No, cavaher ; but no true Spaniard likes to be questioned tnus 
 imperiously." 
 
 " Y9U speak somewhat boldly for a priest. But daylight is already 
 breaking, and we must retire into concealment, or abandon the 
 attempt altogether. Point out some track by which we may retreat, 
 or, priest and Spaniard as you are, I will order a drum-head court- 
 martial, and have you shot as a traitor and spy, or leaguer with the 
 enemy." 
 
 " Gracios excellenze .'" urged the padre. 
 
 " Your entreaties are of no avail. You have deceived us, with the 
 usual treachery of your nation, false monk !" 
 
 " By San Juan, I have not, general ! The robe I wear, and the 
 letter of the corregidor of Merida, sufficiently attest my vei-acity. 1 
 have eri'ed through ignorance, not intention." 
 
 " I pray it may be so," said Sir Rowland, in a kinder tone. " God 
 forbid I bhould wrong an honest man ! But where lies the village of 
 Almarez — " 
 
 At that moment the flash of a cannon a long way df<wn the mouwc 
 
 \t will end in smoke,— a Spanish saying 
 M 2 
 
164 THE nOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 tains, among whose shattered peaks the report was reverbera'tod, 
 answered the question. 
 
 By tlie time which elapsed between the sight of the flash and the 
 sound of the rei)ort, it seemed to be fired about a mile distant. " The 
 morning gun, — that is Almarez ," muttered the soldiers. 
 
 " Cahalleros // soldados !" cried the priest with sudden energy, " I 
 have been no traitor, as you seem to suppose me. In truth I knew 
 not the road, — by San Jago de Compostella, I did not ! To-morrow 
 night, without fail, I will guide you to the gates of Almarez. I tell 
 you this as truly as that every raaravedi of my reward shall go to the 
 shrine of my good Lady of Majorga, whom some rogues have lately 
 plundered of tier robes." 
 
 " Unhand his bridle," said Sir Eowland ; " I must believe him. 
 Major, what think you ?" 
 
 '' There is no alternative," replied the major of brigade ; " but as 
 the regulations say, ' Giddes cannot be too jealously watched;' and, 
 again, m page — " 
 
 " 'lis a waste of time to expound the regulations to a man whose 
 knowledge is confined to his Eible and mass-book," replied the 
 general with a smile. " We will retire up the mountains, and lie 
 concealed till favoured again by the darkness. Let the column break 
 into sections, and move off left in front. Colonel Cameron, your 
 Highlanders will lead the way." 
 
 ' A solitary place of concealment was gained among the rugged 
 mountains of the Lina, where the bivouac was hidden from the sen- 
 tinels on the castle of Miravete. 
 
 The oflicers anxious to lead that most desperate, but gallant, of all 
 military enterprises, the forlorn hope in the intended assault, were 
 requested to send their names to the general. In spite of all that 
 Macdonald and his more cautious friends could say to dissuade 
 Ronald from so heedlessly exposing himself to danger, the fiery young 
 Highlandman offered to lead the storming-party. He well knew how 
 great was the danger, and how little the chance of escape attending 
 those who headed the forlorn band ; but he was animated by no 
 ordinary feelings, and spurred on by the most powerful of all human 
 passions, — love and ambition. With these inspiring his soul, what 
 is it that a brave man feels himself unequal to encounter and over- 
 come ? Eonald was also eager to distinguish himself, to gain the 
 favour of the general, tbe applause of the troops, the freedom of 
 Cataliua, and the admiration— alas ! he could no longer look for the 
 love — of Alice Lisle. 
 
 The brigade-major informed him (not forgetting to add a stave of 
 the regulations thereto) that his namesake. Captain Stuart, of the 
 ^Oth regiment, had likewise sent his name as a candidate for the des- 
 perate honour, and had been, of course, accepted, in consequence of 
 his superior rank, adding that Sir Rowland would not forget Mr. 
 Stuart in the next affair of the same kind, and that on the present 
 occasion he might, if he chose, attend the storming-party as a super- 
 numerary, as it was very likely the first fire would knock its leader 
 on the head. With this Ronald was obliged to be contented — rather 
 chagrined, however, to find that he had exposed himself te the same 
 danger, without a chance of obtaining the same honour. 
 * During that day the ground was carefully examined and recon- 
 noitred. The rugged bed of a dried-up stream, which led from the 
 
'nrs ROMANCE OF WAR. 168 
 
 summits of the Lin a to the Tagus at Almarcz, was chosen as the 
 surest Hne of route on the next occasion. 
 
 ^Vhuarez was a miserable httle Spanish village, consisting of two 
 rows of huts or cottages, leading to an ancient bridge, which had 
 l3een recently blown up, but the want of which the French supplied 
 by a strong pontoon, extending between their forts on each side of 
 tiie river, — the one named Eagusa, and the other Napoleon. The 
 latter tete-du-pont was strongly intrenched, and defended by nine 
 pieces of heavy cannon and five hundred men ; Eagusa was a regular 
 work, defended by an equal number of men and iron guns. A large 
 square tower, rising in the midst like a keep, added greatly to the 
 strength of the place. 
 
 After remaining for three days bivouacked among the solitai^ 
 mountains of the Lina (a ridge or sierra which runs parallel with 
 the Tagus), about ten o'clock on the evening of the last the third 
 column got under arms, and making a circuit among the hills under 
 guidance of the priest, to avoid Miravete, arrived at the bed of the 
 stream, which, in the darkness, was their surest guide to Almarez. 
 But before reaching this place, either by the ignorance or treachery 
 of their guide, they were again led astray, and spent another night 
 marching about in the darkness and solitude of these dreary sierras. 
 It was close on dawn of day before they gained the village of Almarez 
 at the base of the hills, by descending the rough channel of the rill, 
 a long and toilsome path, admitting but one file abreast, as the rocks 
 rose abruptly on each side of it, and the passage was encumbered by 
 large stones, projecting roots and trunks of fallen trees, which caused 
 many of the soldiers to be hurt severely, by falling in the dark as 
 they toiled on, bearing, in addition to their arms, the scaling-ladders, 
 the hammers, levers, and other implements for the assault on the 
 gates of the tete-du-pont. 
 
 The intention of taking Almarez by surprise was frustrated by 
 the garrison in the castle of JNIiravete. General Cho^vne's colunni 
 having made an assault on the outworks of the place, its soldiers, to 
 alarm the forts at the bridge, sent off scores of rockets in fiery circles 
 through the inky-black sky ; beacons of tar-barrels blazed on every 
 turret, and red signal-lights glared in every embrasure of the cm- 
 battled tower, purpling the sky above and the valley below, flaring 
 on the hideous rents, yawning chasms, and precipitous fronts of the 
 huge basaltic rocks among which it is situated, and some of which, 
 covered with foliage, overhang the dark blue waters of the Tagus. 
 In some places the basaltic crags reared their fronts to the height of 
 several hundred feet above the straggling route of the third column. 
 The scene was wild, splendid, picturesque, and impressively grand, 
 such as few men have looked on, — the dark sky, the tremendous 
 scenery, and the tower blazing with its various lights and fires, while 
 the peals of musketry from the assailants and the assailed rever- 
 berated among the hills, the outlines of which were now distinctly 
 visible, — their sides dotted here and there by flocks of Merino sheep, 
 goats, &c., which had escaped the forage-parties of the enemy. 
 
 General Hill was now perfectly aware that an attempt to carry the 
 
 forts by surprise was frustrated, as the assault upon them all should 
 
 have commenced at once ; yet, relying on the mettle and chivalry 
 
 ^f his gallant troops, worn out as they were by their night-marches, 
 
 '^ did not hesitate to make the etfort, although he knew that tV^ 
 
ICG THE KOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 garrisons of the tctcs-dn-povt would bo under arms for bis reception. 
 Within an hour of daybreak the three regiments had quitted their 
 path, and formed in order at some httle distance from the scene of 
 intended operations. 
 
 All was still and dark. Before them lay the quiet little village 
 of Almarez. with its orange-trees and vineyards, and with its ruined 
 bridge, the broad abutments and piers of the centre arch of which 
 hang over the Tagus, whose deep dark waters swept sluggishly on, 
 rippling against the jarring and heaving boats of the pontoon bndge 
 winch the foe had thrown across the river a little lovv'cr down, and 
 at each end of which appeared the rising mounds, crov/ned — the 
 nearest by Fort Napoleon, and that on the other side by the extended 
 trenches and lofcy tower of Ragusa. 
 
 All was singularly and ominously still Anthin the forts: none ap- 
 peared stirring except the sentries, whose figures against the sky 
 were discerned moving to and fro on the bastions, or standing still to 
 watch the lights of Miravete, which were yet blazing afar off among 
 the dark mountains of the sierra. 
 
 Preparations vv-ere now made for the attack. The colours were 
 uncased and thrown upon the breeze ; the flints and priming were 
 examined. The Gth regiment of the Portuguese line, and two com- 
 panies of German riflemen under Captain Blacier, were ordered to 
 form the corps-de-rcserve, and moved behind a rising ground, which 
 would cover them from the enemy's fa*e • while the three British 
 regiments, formed in two columns, pressed forward pell-mell upon 
 the Utes-du-pont. Now indeed was the moment of excitement, and 
 the pulsation of every heart became quicker. But the soldiers 
 placed the utmost reliance upon the skill and gallantry of their 
 leader and colonels. At the head of the 50th regiment was Stuart, 
 a man whose perfect coolness- and apathy in the hottest actions sur- 
 prised all, and formed a strong contrast to the enthusiastic spirit 
 of gallant Cadogan of the Highland Light Infantry, and to the proud 
 sentiments of chivalry, martial fire, and reckless valour which ani- 
 mated Cameron of Fassifern. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 d'estoutille. 
 
 The storming-party, with their broad scaling-ladders, passed for- 
 ward double-quick to the front. 
 
 "Heaven guide you, Ronald !" whispered Louis Lisle, hurriedly, 
 pressing the hand of Stuart as he passed the flank of his company. 
 
 " God bless you, Lisle ! 'tis the last time we may look on each, 
 other's faces," replied the other, his heart swelling Anth sudden emo- 
 tions of tenderness at this unexpected display of friendship, at such 
 a time, and from one to whom he had long been as a stranger. 
 
 " Maniez le drapeau ! Vive V Empereur ! Appretez vos armes ! 
 Joue—feu !" cried the clear voice of D'Estouville from the fort ; 
 and instantly a volley of musketry broke over the dark line or 
 breastworks, flashing like a continued garland of fire, showing the 
 bronzed visages and tall grenadier caps of the old French Guard, 
 while the waving tri-colour, like a banner of crape in the dark, was 
 run up the flag-stafr. 
 
THE EOMAIn^CE OF WAR, 167 
 
 " yive I'JEmpereur ! Camiotiiers, commencez le feu J" cried a 
 noarse voice from the angle of the epaule, and the roar of nine 
 twenty-four pounders shook the Tagus in its bed, "while crash came 
 their volley of grape and canister like an iron tempest, sweeping one 
 half of the storming-party into eternity, and strewing fragments of 
 iimbs, fire-locks, and ladders in every direction. A roar of musketry 
 from the British, and many a soul-stirring cheer, were the replies, 
 and onward pressed the assailants, exposed to a tremendous fire of 
 small-arms from the buhvarks, and grape and cannon-shot from the 
 flanking bastions of the tcte-du-pont, which mowed Ihem down as a 
 blast mows mthered reeds. 
 
 When now, for the fu'st time, the sharp hiss of cannon-shot, the 
 groans of dying, and the shrieks of wounded men, rang in his ears, 
 it must be owned that Konald Stuart experienced that peculiar sen- 
 sation of thick and tumultuous beating in his heart, boundless and 
 terrible curiosity, intense and thrilling excitement, which even the 
 most brave and dauntless must feel when Jl7'st exposed to the dangers 
 of mortal strife. Bat almost instantly these emotions vanished, and 
 his old dashing spirit of reckless daring and fiery valour possessed 
 him. Captain Stuart had fallen dead at his feet without a groan — 
 shot through the head and heart by the first fire from the epaule — 
 and Ronald, sword in hand, now led on the stormers. 
 
 " Follow me, gallants ! and we will show them what the first bri- 
 gade can do," cried he, leaping into the avant-fosse. A "wild hurrah 
 was his reply ; and the soldiers rushed after him, crossing the ditch, 
 and planting their ladders against the stone face of the sloping glacis, 
 exposed to a deadly fire from loop-hole, parapet, and embrasure; 
 while the PrBnch kept shouting their war-cry of " Long live th6 
 Emperor ! " and the voice of D'Estouville was heard above the din, 
 urging them to keep up a rapid fire. 
 
 ' Soldats—joue! Chargez vos arrnes—jonel Vivaf!" echoed 
 always by the hoarse voice of the artillery-officer from the bastion. 
 
 " Steady the ladder, Evan Bean Iverach," cried Stuart. " Keep 
 close by me, and show yourself your father's son. God aid our steel ! 
 Follow me, soldiers — forward ! Hurrah ! " With his sword in his 
 right hand, his bonnet in his left, and his dark hair weaving about his 
 face, he ascended the ladder fearlessly, and striking up the bayonets 
 Miiich bristled over the parapet, leaped upon it, brandished his sword, 
 miraculously escaping the shoAver of shot which hailed around him. 
 With dauntless bravery, he sprang from the parapet among them, 
 and instantly the French gave way before the irresistible stream of 
 British troops who poureci in upon them, and a desperate struggle 
 took place — short, bloody, but decisive. 
 
 "A/i, moil Dieu ! Rallie — rallie ! soldats ! Diahle ! Croisez la 
 Idionette" shouted D'Estouville, franticly, — setting his men the 
 example, by throAving himself headlong on the bayonets of th(^ 
 assailants ; l)ut he was driven back, and his efforts were in vain ; a 
 score of ladders had been placed against the glacis at other places, 
 and the works were stormed on- almost every part at once. The 
 defenders were driven back, but fighting with true French bravery 
 for every inch of ground. The British assailed them ^vith irresistible 
 impetuosity, bearing them backwards with the charge^, oayonet, the 
 clubbed musket, the pike, and the swo^d. By the particular favour 
 of Providence, llonald escaped th'^ dangers cf thz rorlorn hope, while 
 ihe soldiers who composed his band vv«xe mowTi down like leaves m 
 
1(38 THE ROJIANCE OF WAR. 
 
 autumn ; ])ut while pressing forward among the enemy, two powerful 
 q;roiiadiors of Ics Gardex Fron<;ais rushed upon him with their 
 levelled bayonets, putting him in imminent peril. The pike of a ser- 
 geant of the oOtli freed him of one assailant, and, closing with the 
 other, he dashed his head against the breech of a carronade, and 
 passed his sword through the broad breast of a third, who came up 
 to his rescue, and the warm blood poured over the hand and blade of 
 his conqueror, who now could scarcely keep his feet on the wooden 
 platform surrounding the inner side of the breastwork, which was 
 covered with blood and brains, and piled with dead and wounded — 
 with drums, dismounted cannon, and broken weapons. The scene 
 ^yhich was now presented is far beyond my humble powers of descrip- 
 tion. The blaze of cannon and musketry from Kagusa, at the other 
 end of the pontoon bridge— \vhere the garrison fired at the risk of 
 killing their comrades — glared on the glassy bosom of the Tagus, 
 tinging it ^-vitli that red and golden colour so ft-eely bestowed upon iti 
 by poets. But vrithin the inner talus of the breastwork and bloody 
 platform, the scene would have produced horror in one less excited 
 than men contending band to hand, and who regarded honour rather 
 than life. 
 
 There lay the ghastly dead, cold and pale in the grey light of the 
 morning, — across them in heaps, the w^ounded, quivering with inten- 
 sity of agony, grasping the gory ground mth convulsive clutches, 
 and tearing up the earth, which was soon to cover them, in handfuls, 
 while their eyes, starting from the sockets, were becoming glazed and 
 terrible in death. Others, who had received wounds in less ^^tal 
 parts of the frame, were endeavouring to drag themselves from the 
 press, or stanch their streaming blood, imploring those who neither 
 heard nor heeded them for '"Water! water, for the love of God!" 
 Yells of sudden agony, the deep groan of the severely wounded, and 
 hoarse death-rattle of the dying men, mingled and were lost in the 
 tumultuous shouts of the French, the steady and hearty cheers of 
 the British, the clash of steel, the tramp of feet and discharge of 
 musketry, the notes of the wild war-pipes of the 71st and 92nd, which 
 were blown loud enough to awaken the heroes of Selma in their 
 tombs. Many acts of personal heroism were performed on both sides 
 before the enemy were fairly driven from their works, for which they 
 fought \vith the characteristic bravery of their gallant nation. 
 
 But longer contention would have been madness. The right wing 
 of the Highland Light Infantry, and the whole of the 50th regiment, 
 poured in upon them like a flood : the Avhole place was captured in 
 the course o^ fifteen mimites, and its garrison driven into the litt.le 
 square formed by their barracks, and into the bastion from which 
 their imperial tri-colour flung its folds over the conflict. 
 
 " On ! Forward ! Capture the colours before they are destroyed ;" 
 was now the cry : and hundreds, folloAring Colonel Stuart, of the 
 50th, pressed forAvard into the bastion, across the demi-gorge of 
 which the enemy had cast bundles of fascines, composed of billets of 
 wood, baskets of earth, &c., over which they presented their bayonets, 
 and kept up a rapid fire. 
 
 Still eager to distinguish himself, Eonald pressed on by the side of 
 the colonel of the 50th, and while endeavouring to break the hedge 
 of steel formed by the enemy^s bayonets, he was thrust in among 
 them and borne to the ground, and his campaigns Avould probably 
 have ended there, had not Evan Iverach, at the peril of his life. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 16& 
 
 plunged over the fascines after him, and borne to the earth a iYench 
 oflicer, whose sabre was descending on his master's head. 
 
 The athletic Highlander pinned the Gaul to the earth, and un- 
 sheathing a slcene-dhu (black knife), drove it through the breast of 
 his discomfited foe. 
 
 " Nombril de Belzehnh ! Les sauvages l£cossais ! Sucre lileu ! 
 Camarades, sauvez-moi V — but his comrades had barely time to save 
 themselves from the tide of armed men, who poured through the gap 
 which Evan and his master had formed. 
 
 " Hurrah, Highlanders ! " cried the stentorian voice of Campbell 
 from another part of the works, where he appeared on foot at the 
 head of his company (he was major by brevet), armed with a long 
 Highland dirk in addition to his formidable Andrea Eerrara. 
 " Hurrah ; brave hearts ! Give them Egypt over again ! Mount 
 the platform, lads ! slue round the cannon, and blow their skulls 
 off ! '■' A hundred active Highlanders obeyed the order. Tlie twenty- 
 four pounders were reversed, loaded, pointed, and lired in a twinkling, 
 sending a tremendous volley of grape-shot among the dense masy 
 which crowded the dark square, from which arose a yell such as might 
 come from the regions of the damned, mingled with the gallant cry 
 of " Tive VHm'pereur .'" 
 
 " Well done, brave fellows ! Load and fire again ! there 's plenty 
 of grape ! Another dose ! Give it them ! — hurra !" cried the inex- 
 orable Campbell again. The effects of the second volley were indeed 
 appalling, as, from the elevation of the platform, the shot actually 
 blew off -the skulls of the unfortunate French in scores. This was 
 the decisive stroke. The bastion and square were alike abandoned,^ 
 and all rushed towards the Tagus, to cross and gain the tower of 
 Eagusa; but the garrison of that place, on finding that Eort Napo- 
 leon was captured and its guns turned on them by the German artil- 
 lery, to ensure their own retreat, destroyed that of their comrades, 
 by cutting the pontoon bridge. D'Estouville's troops had now no 
 alternative but to surrender themselves prisoners of war. 
 
 So enthusiastic Avere the soldiers while flushed with excitement 
 and victory, that, following the bold example of Evan Bean, numbers 
 swam the Tagus, and from the other side fired after the fugitive 
 garrison of Eagusa. 
 
 " Surrender, noble D'Estouville ! Eesistance is unavailing," cried 
 Eonald to his old acquaintance, who with his back agamst the 
 colour-staff, surrounded by corpses and scattered fascines, stood on 
 his guard, with his proud dark eyes flashing fire under his grenadier 
 cap. He was resolute apparently to die, but never to surrender to 
 force. 
 
 " Halt ! keep back, soldiers ! " said Stuart, striking down a ridge of 
 threatening pikes and bayonets. " He will surrender to me. Yield, 
 gallant D'Estouville ! you may now do so without a shadow of 
 dishonour." 
 
 13ut he seemed to have forgotten the speaker, as he only replied by 
 \ blow and a thrust. 
 
 " He is a gallant fellow !" said Eassifem, tossing the bridle of his 
 hv.>rse to an orderly, and making his way through the press. Save 
 him, if possible, Stuart. Monsieur, rends voire epee, vos armes." 
 
 " Monsieur, permit me to retain my sword, and I will surrender 
 'tis but le droit de la guerre." 
 
 '■' Certainly, sir, if it is your wish." 
 
170 THE n03£ANCi: OF WAIi. 
 
 ' Croiv Dieu ! Cursed fortune ! So soon again to be a captive ! 
 Surely I was born under some evil star !" 
 
 " Motisieur" replied Cinieron, " you have behaved most nobly m 
 this aliair. The ylory of the vanquished is scarcely less than that o* 
 the victors." The Frenchman was subdued by the well-timed 
 flattery, and layini; his hand uix»n his brea-st, answered by a bow. 
 
 " Mon am!, to you I render myself. C'est un aimable roue," said 
 DTDstouville, laying his hand familiarly on Ronald's epaulet while 
 sheathing his sword ; '" I become a prisoner without shame. The 
 great Emperor might yield him.self without dishonour to you, my old 
 Mend ; and in truth L would rather surrender to a descendant of 
 the ancient friends of France than to your southern neighbours, for 
 with them a sea of blood will never quench our enmity. Croix 
 I>ieu ! what is this ? The base cowards in Ragusa have cut off the 
 retreat of my soldiers ! Ah ! false Monsieur de Mesmai, the Emperor 
 shall hear of this. Dlahle !" 
 
 A proud and peculiar smile shot over his features as the soldiers 
 pulled down the tri-colour, and bore it oif as a trophy from the 
 bastion. He folded his arms, and leaning against the flag-stalT, sur- 
 veyed the ebbing conflict apparently with the utmost coolness and 
 perfect nonchalance ; but the quivering of his moustached lip showed 
 the workings of his heart, though he endeavoured to conceal them. 
 
 With many a cry of '" Faites honne guerre, messieurs les Ecossais ! 
 Qnartier — quartier ! Les lois de la guerre, messieurs !" the discom- 
 fited enemy clamorously demanded to be taken as prisoners of war, 
 as the firing had now ceased everywhere ; and they often called aloud 
 on " les Ecossais," probably from seeing that the majority of their 
 conquerors wore the kilt and trews of tartan. 
 
 "Soldafs, vos armes a terre !" cried the crest-fallen D'Estouville 
 over the parapet of the bastion ; and, as one man, the ;?hattered 
 remains of the gallant garrison grounded their arms, while a strong 
 party of the Gordon Highlanders, with fixed bayonets, surrounded 
 them as a guard. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CATALIXA. 
 
 It was now clear daylight, and over heaps of dead and wounded 
 which were stretched around, Ronald went in search of Catalina 
 through the buildings composing the barracks, which were arranged 
 in the form of a square. At every turn his passage was encumbered 
 by the miserable victims of the morning's carnage, mostly French, 
 as the majority of the British killed and wounded fell in the avant- 
 fosse. Here lay the war-worn and grey-haired grenadier of the 
 Guard, seamed with the scars of Austerhtz and Jena, blowing the 
 bells of froth and blood from his quivering lip, and scowling defiance 
 with his glazing eye at the passer. Beside or across him lay the 
 muscular Highlander, his bare legs drenched in gore, casting looks 
 of imploring helplessness, cra^-ing " Maister Stuart, for the love o' 
 the heevin aboon them, to bring the wee'st drop of water, or send 
 some ane to stanch their bluid." Here lay one Frenchman with his 
 skull shot away and brains sc;attered about,— another vut in two by 
 
THE llOMANCE OF WAB, 171 
 
 a round shot-, and scores, otherwise torn to pieces by Carapbell's ter- 
 rible volley Iroiu the plu'tibrni, lying in long lines, which marked the 
 lane made by the course and radius of each discharge of grape, and 
 the v.iiole place swam with blood and bi'ains — a horrible puddle, like 
 the floor ot a slaughter-house. All this was as nothing to witnessing 
 the frightful agonies of the wretched wounded and dying, goadea 
 with the most excruciating pain, choking in their lilood— their limbs 
 quivering in extremity ol torture, while they shrieked the eternal 
 cry of " water !" and shrieked in vain. 
 
 Little know our peaceful and plodding citizens at home of the 
 miseries of ^var ! 
 
 In search of Donna Catalina, Ronald wandered everywhere through 
 the deserted' and confused quarters of the enemy, but she was no- 
 where to be found ; and he was about to cross the river and search 
 the tower of llagusjt, or fiucstion D'Estouville, when drums beating 
 in the square called liim to the parade of the regiment. 
 
 It was now a beautiiul morning, and the rising sun shed its lustre 
 on the ridges of the Lina and bindings of the bright Tagus. _ At 
 their base, in the pure bosom of the glassy river, the trees and vine- 
 yards, cottages and ruined bridge of Almarez, the bastions of Fort 
 Napoleon and black tower of Ragusa., were reflected downwards as 
 clearly as if in some huge mirror. Above them the morning mist 
 from the cork-woods, and the smoke of fire-arms from the forts, 
 mingling,' together and ascending in volumes, melted away on the 
 thin breezy air. Long and loud blew pipe and bugle, mustering the 
 troops in the square of the Ute-du-pont ; but many v/ho had marched 
 to them merrily yesterday, lay stark and stiff now, and heard their 
 blast no more. The military store-houses of the enemy bad been 
 broken open and given over to pillage, and skins of wine, bottles of 
 rum, and kegs of French brandy, were to l3e had for the broaching. 
 Barrels were staved, and hams, rounds of beef, &c., were tossed by 
 the soldfers from one to another, and every man lilled his havresack 
 with such provisions as he could lay his hands on. 
 
 When this scene of tumult and disorder was ended, the (;aptu':'CTs 
 of the Fort Napoleon were mustered in the barrack -square, to receive 
 the thanks of General Hill for the steadiness and dashing gallanti-y of 
 their conduct throughout the assault. The soldiers burned to give 
 the fine old fellow three hearty cheers, but discipline Avithheld them. 
 
 Addressing himself to llonald in particular, he thanked him for the 
 dauntless manner in which, on Captain Stuart's fall, he had led the 
 assault. While the general spoke, E-onald felt his heart glo^ving Avith 
 the most unalloyed delight, and the reward of being thus publicly 
 thanked before his comrades was sufficient for the dangers he had 
 dared and overcome. " How proud,^' thought he, " will the i)eor)le 
 at the old tower of Lochisla be, when they hear of this day's work ! 
 And Alice Lisle — surely she — " 
 
 Here the soft and plaintive voice of one well known to him broke 
 the chain of his thoughts. 
 
 " O Senor Don Ro7iald ! por amor de JDlos /" exclaimed Cata- 
 lina with sudden joy, " for the love of the holy Virgin^ protect me !" 
 
 " For the love of yourself, rather, fair Catalina," said he, advancing 
 from the flank of his company to Avhere he saw her kneeling on the 
 ground between the close ranks of German rifles, who beheld her 
 distress with sullen apathy. How beautiful she looked then ! Her 
 white hands were clasped in an agony of terror, and her long glos^ 
 
17- THE BOMANCE OF '.VAH. 
 
 liair rolled in dishevelled ringlets about lier fine neck and shoulders. 
 He raised her from the ^ound. 
 
 " Catulina," said he, '* 1 cannot leave my post to see you from the 
 fort ; but do me the favour to take my arm, and i)ray do not be so 
 agitated. There i? no danger now." 
 
 '■ O no — ^vitli you I am safe," she replied with a delightful smile 
 of entire confidcuce, which caused a thrill to pass through Konald's 
 heart as she placed her arm in his. " O amigo onio ! what a terrible 
 morning this has been ! How terrified I have felt since the roar of 
 the cannon roused me from 1>ed. And you have escaped ! Praise 
 be to the A'irgin for it ! she heard my prayers. Ah ! how I trembled 
 for you. when I saw from a loop-hole the black plumes of your 
 regiment." 
 
 Ronald pressed the little hand which lay on his arm, but he knew 
 not what to say. A tremor of softness ana joy filled his heart, 
 causing him to turn with disgust from the objects of bloodshed and 
 strife tliat lay everywhere around, and his eyes rested on the donna's 
 radiant features with a pleasure Avhich he had never known till then. 
 HoAV agreeable it was to hear the frank girl talking in this way ! 
 
 " O santa Maria!" she exclaimed with a shudder, after a pause, 
 " I can scarcely look around me, so many fearful sights present them- 
 selves everywhere to my eye, — sights of which we knew nothing at 
 happy Merida, before tlie false Napoleon crossed the Pyrenees." 
 
 " AVith God's help, and our good steel, Catalina, we will drive his 
 legions back again, or into the sea at Bayonne ; and then again at 
 Merida, the fandango, the bolero, and waltz — " 
 
 ^^ Amigo mio, senor ! you speak as might become the Cid Rodrigo ; 
 but although your hand maj' be as stout, and your sword as long as 
 his, why be so rash ? How you leaped over the parapet, among the 
 horrid bayonets of the French — " 
 
 " You saw me, then ?" said Eonald, with delight. 
 
 " And trembled for you." , r 
 
 " How fortunate I am to have your good Avishes. I dare say you 
 are very happy at being freed from this place ?" 
 
 " O very — very ! But surely it was not on my account that all this 
 frightful work has been made. Perhaps you have heard how I was 
 carried ofi" from Merida ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and I cannot express the uneasiness the rela,tioii gave me. 
 
 " A French officer, a Major D'Estouville, carried me off across his 
 saddle a captive maiden, by force, as any fierce Moor of Grenada 
 would have done long ago. I have been since a prisoner here." 
 
 "Well, but this D'Estouville—" 
 
 " Such a gay cavalier he is ! But T was very tired of him, and 
 longed to be at pleasant Merida-, mth its sunny Prado and orange- 
 groves, instead of this dull, guarded fort, with its bulwarks and 
 . ditches, cannon a-nd gates. I was much annoyed by Monsieur 
 I)'Estouville's speeches and protestations ; but 'tis all at an end now, 
 and I trust he has escaped, though I Avish not to see his face again,' 
 Do you know if he is safe ?" 
 
 " I saved his life but an hour since," replied Ronald, the pique 
 which he felt at her first observations disappearing. '" But I do not 
 see him among the prisoners," he added, examining the sullen and 
 disarmed band as they marched past out of the fort, surrounded by 
 their armed escort commanded by Louis Lisle, from whose cheek the 
 blood was trickling from a sabre-wound, which he heeded not. 
 
THE EO]VtANCE OF WAE. 17S 
 
 The officers on parole uncovered their heads on passing the young 
 lady, wno now, when her terror was over, began naturally to feel 
 abashed and confused to lind herself leaning on an officer's arm on a 
 military parade, exposed to the gaze of several regiments. 
 
 •" Oh, I trust he has escaped ; 'twere a thousand pities if so sprightly 
 a sol dado should be injured." 
 
 " On my word, if you take so great an interest in this rash French- 
 man, I shall feel quite jealous." 
 
 " You have no reason, senor. I tell you I never wish to see his 
 face again, though it is a very handsome one," responded the donna, 
 with an air of pique, while a purple blush crossed her features. 
 '' Holy Mary, would 1 had my veil here ! To be thus gazed at—" 
 
 " Here comes one v/ho may give us some information. Mac- 
 donald, Avhere is the French commandant— D'Estouville ; the young 
 man with the bear-skin cap and crimson feather ?" 
 
 " With his fathers, I believe, poor fellow. He was a gallant soldier 
 as ever drew sword," replied Alister, who at that moment came past, 
 and paid his respects to Donna Catalina, whom he was not a little 
 surprised to see amidst the ranks of the Highlanders, leaning on 
 Eonald's arm, while her long beautiful tresses streamed about like 
 those of some wood-nymph or goddess. 
 
 " I rejoice to see you in safety, senora. I heard of your being in 
 the hands of the enemy, — indeed it made so deep an irnpression on 
 my bon camarade, that he could not keep it a secret. Faith, Stuart," 
 he added in a whisper, " you have picked up something more precious 
 than a skin of ^lalaga, or a keg of French eau de vie." 
 
 " Stay, Alister," replied the other, with an air of displeasure ; " a 
 truce to raillery. I am sorry to see you wounded." 
 
 "A few inches of skin ripped up— a mere nothing," said Mac- 
 donald, whose arm was slung in his sash. " I received it from the 
 bayonet of a fine old grenadier, whom Angus Mackie has sent to his 
 long home." 
 
 "Well, but the commandant — " 
 
 " Poor fellow ! I am sorry for his fate, — he seemed so gallant and 
 reckless. " 
 
 " The devil, man ! what has happened ?" 
 
 " Have you not heard ?" 
 
 " No ; he yielded himself to me, with permission to retain his 
 sword." 
 
 " Better had he tossed it into the Tagus ! Scarcely had you left 
 him, when up came that fiery borderer, Armstrong, of the 71st (at 
 least I have heard that it was Armstrong), demanding his sword, not 
 beiagaware of the terms on which he had rendered himself prisoner. 
 The Frenchman, D'Estouville I think you call him, either could not 
 or would not comprehend him ; and Armstrong, by a single stroke 
 of his sword, cleft his skull through the thick grenadier cap." 
 
 An exclamation of rage and impatience broke from Ronald, and of 
 pity from Catalina, Avho clasped her hands and raised her dark 
 melancholy eyes to heaven, while he cast an angry and searching 
 glance along the ranks of the Highland Light Infantry. 
 _ " Sir Rowland Hill," continued Alister, " regrets this unfortunate 
 circumstance very much, and has sent him otf in a bullock-car to 
 Merida, in charge of a French medical officer liberated on his ]->arole. 
 Eutlmustbid you adieu, as our company is ordei*ed to assist Thiele, 
 the German engineer, to destrov the tower and bastions of Ragusa. 
 
174 THE fiOilAKCE OF WJlK. 
 
 Heaven knows how ^Ye shall acconvplish it: it looks as massive as the 
 old nilo of Maoial in the Western Isies." 
 
 •■' ^^'hat is that villanous priest about ?" said Honald, when Mac- 
 donald had withdrawn, and he saw their guide, with the grey cassock 
 uedaubed with blood, busying himself about the prostrate dead and 
 wounded. "Surely he is not plundering. Prick him with your 
 bavonet, Macpherson, and drive him off." 
 
 'O no, senor, Heaven forbid!" said the young lady hurriedly, 
 " He must be confessing, or endeavouring to convert some, before 
 they die and are lost for ever." 
 
 "Scarcely, Catalina," replied Honald, seeing they were men of the 
 71st. " These are true Presbyterians, from a place called Glasgow, 
 in my country, and would as soon hearken to the devil as a liomaa 
 Catholic priest." 
 
 " How good must be the priest "who endeavours to gain the dying 
 soldier from the hot grasp of Satanas !" said the lady, not compre- 
 hending him. " Call him, Don llonald; I have not confessed since I 
 left Merida." 
 
 " What sins can you have to confess, Catalina ? Besides^ I do not 
 like this fellow. But since you look so imploringly, and desire it so 
 much, I will bring him to you. But let him beware. Ho reverend 
 gohernador ! Senor padre of the Convento de todos Santos, let alone 
 the havresacks of dead men, and come hither." 
 
 The priest, starting from his occupation, crossed his hands 
 upon his breast, and came stalking slowly towards them, with his 
 head enveloped in hiii cope, and his cross and rosary dangling before 
 him. 
 
 Catalina, wearied with excess of agitation and the want of sleep 
 ■was anxious to procure a female attendant, and to be sent to the 
 village of Almarez, from which she hoped to find some means ot 
 travelling to the residence of her cousin and sister, Donna Inesella. 
 And as Eonald's duties at that time required his being alone, he sent 
 her off on Major Campbell's horse, accompanied by the priest and 
 Evan Iverach, whom he desired to see her safe in the best house of 
 the village, and to remain with her until he could come in the even- 
 ing. Immediately on means being procured to convey the suffering 
 wounded to the rear in blankets, bullock-carts, hurdles of branches, 
 crossed pikes, &c., the forts were ordered by Sir Eowland Hill to be 
 completely destroyed. Eighteen pieces of cannon were spiked and 
 cast into the Tagus. The dead, British and French, friend and foe, 
 the victors and the vanquished, found one common grave. About 
 four hundred corses were tossed into the ava^it fosse — arms, accoutre- 
 ments, and everything for burial. The heavy stone parapets, the 
 revetement, and earthen works were thrown over on them, for the 
 double pui-pose of covering them up and to dismantle the place. 
 Gates, palisades, and bridges were destroyed, and barracks and store- 
 houses given to the flames, consuming in one universal blaze of 
 destruction everything that could not be carried off. 
 
 Eagusa was destroyed by the German artiUery, vrho lodged a quan- 
 tity of powder in the vaults of the tower, to demolish it effectually 
 by explosion. Lieutenant Tliiele, a German officer of engineers, 
 having fired the train, and found that the powder in the vaults did 
 not explode, entered the chamber Avhere it lay, to ascertain the 
 reason. At that instant it blew up, carrying the unfortunate man 
 into the air, amidst a cloud of dust and .stones. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 176 
 
 From battlement to foundation the massive stone tower, burst and 
 rent, tottered for an instant, and then sunk like a house of cards, 
 but with a mighty crash, which shook the frail cottages of the adjacent 
 village. A shower of stones and mortar was scattered in every direc- 
 tion, and the mangled corse of Thiele fell into the river many yards 
 off, and sunk to the bottom unheeded and uncared for, 
 
 Such was the storming of Ahnarez, which took place on the 18th. 
 May, 1812 ; and for the capture of which Sir llowland, afterwards 
 Lord Hill, received the title of Baron Almarez of the Tagus. 
 
 As soon as the laborious work of destruction was completed, the 
 troops were marched from the ruined forts, with their colours llying 
 and drums beating ; and ascending the hills of the Lina to the dis- 
 tance of about half a league, bivouacked on their grassy sides. As they 
 retired, Honald looked back to the place where so many had found a 
 tomb, and where, but for another destiny, he might have found his. 
 Under the mounds made by the levelled ramparts, lay the mangled 
 remains of men who but a few hours before were in life, and in the 
 full enjoyment of health and spirits. A cloud of dust and smoke yet 
 hung over the ruins, between which the glassy Tagus was flowing 
 still and clear, \nth its surface glowing in the full splendour of the 
 meridian sun, — floAving onwards as it had done a thousand years 
 before, and as it will do a thousand after those who fought and died at 
 Almarez are forgotten ! 
 
 Leaving the bivouac on the mountain-side, where fires were light- 
 ing and preparations making to regale on what had been found in 
 the stores of the enemy, Honald, immediately on arms being " piled," 
 returned to the village, which he found almost deserted by the popu- 
 lation, who wore rummaging and searching about the ruins of the 
 forts for whatever they could lay their hands on, heedless of the 
 lamentations made by the widows of some of tte slain, who hovered 
 near the uncouth tomb of their husbands. 
 
 ilt the door of a dilapidated cottage, the walls and roof of which 
 appeared to be held together solely by the thick masses of vine and 
 Avild roses clambering about them, Ronald found Evan busied in 
 cleaning his musket and harness, which were, of course, soiled yvith. 
 the morning's strife, and clianting the while his favourite " Keek 
 into the draw-well," &c., to drov/n the monotonous Ave-Maria of an 
 old blind village matron, who was telling over her rosary while she 
 sat on a turf by the door, warming herself in the rays of the bright 
 sun. 
 
 He entered softly the desolate earth-floored apartment in w-hich 
 Donna Catalina was awaiting his return. In one corner, with his 
 hands as usual meekly crossed over his bosom, stood the burly and 
 disagreeable figure of the priest, — disagreeable because there A\as a 
 sort of mystery attached to him, which the shai)eless appearance of 
 his garments and the custom of wearing a cowl instead of a scull- 
 cap or shovel-hat, tended not a little to increase; and Konald, as a 
 Scotsman and thorough Presbyterian, was naturally not over-fond of 
 any one connected with 
 
 " Tlie Pslv, that pagan fu' o' pride," 
 
 augd consequently he bestowed on the apparently unconscious padre 
 a tern look of scrutiny and distrust. At u little square opening, 
 that servo^l the puipose of a window, and around which the cluster- 
 ing grapes and rose.'^ formed a rural curtain, Catalina was seated with 
 
176 THE EOMANOE OF WAE. 
 
 her soft pale cheek resting on her hand, which was almost hidden 
 among the heavj' curls, the hue of which contrasted with its white- 
 ness, lier dark eyes were intently ilxed on the green mountains of 
 the Liua, where the British bivouac was visible. The scabbard of 
 Stuart's claymore jarring on the tiles of the floor, roused her from 
 her reverie, and a rich blush suffused her face, from her temples to 
 her dimpled chin, as she advanced towards him in her usual confiding 
 and frank manner, and pjissed her ann through his. 
 
 " The reverend father will perhaps retire, and keep the oldpatrona 
 at the door company in her devotions," said lionald after some con- 
 versation, and the monk immediately withdi'ew. 
 
 " Ah ! senor mio," said Catalina in a gentle tone of deprecation, 
 "why do you treat the poor nriest so haughtily ?" 
 
 " 1 do not like hira, Catalina — on my honour I do not ; and I 
 believe there is no love lost between us. I could have s\vorn I sa\v 
 the cross hilt of a dagger glitter under the cope of his cassock, as he 
 withdrew just now." 
 
 " His crucifix, perhaps." 
 
 " He told me he carried a dagger, when I confronted him in the 
 wood of Jarciejo." 
 
 " Well, 'tis very probable he bears it in these sad times for protec- 
 tion ; he can scarcely gain any from cross or cope now. He says he 
 is Father Jerome, of the convent of All Saints at Merida. I think I 
 have heard his voice before : he has not shown his face, as he says a 
 vow compels him to conceal it. But indeed you must be respectful 
 to him. The noblest hidalgos and cavaliers in my country respect 
 the poorest Franciscan. " 
 
 " The meanest clown in mine, Catalina, cares not a rush for the 
 Pope and all his cardinals," 
 
 " Maclre Maria ! I mil not listen to you," said she, placing her 
 hand on his mouth, " You must not talk thus ; 'tis very sinful. 
 But, alas ! you know not the sin of it. Ah ! senor, if you love me,'* 
 she added, blushing deeply, " if you love me as you have said you do, 
 speak not so again." 
 
 " Love you, Catalina ! " replied the young man, intoxicated with 
 the tenderness of the expression, while he drew her towards him. 
 
 " Oh, stay, — what — who is that ?" said the lady hurriedly, as the 
 room became suddenly darkened, 
 
 "'Tis only that cursed priest." 
 
 " Surely it was a British officer; his epaulets glittered among the 
 vine-leaves." 
 
 '•' Was 1 to find the padre eaves-dropping, his cassock would scarcely 
 save him from a good caning." 
 
 " Alas ! that would be most foul sacrilege. But speaking of him, 
 reminds me of a plan we had formed just before you came in. 1 mean 
 to put myself under his escort, and to travel to Truxillo, where the 
 alcalde, or my mother's brother, Don Gonzago de Conquesta, will 
 iind me a proper escort to Idauha-a-Velha, where you say my cousin 
 inesella resides." 
 
 " And think you I will intrust you the length of Truxillo with 
 this dubious character, — a priest with a poniard in his robe ?" 
 
 " Aniigo mio," said she, pouting prettily, " surely I can dispose of 
 myself as I please ?" 
 
 " Catalina, a thousand times I have told you that 1 prize your safety 
 
THE liOMANCE OF WAR, 177 
 
 belore my own," said Jlonald, kissing her forehead. " I wil; ir.yself 
 travel \nth you to Idanha-jv- Velha." 
 
 " I thank you ; but it may not be. I may travel \vitli a padre ; but 
 the rules of society would not permit the cavalier or soldado to bo 
 my patron or guardian," 
 
 '■ i3ut this priest — " 
 
 "You judge of him harshly, indeed. I assure you that ho prays 
 very devoutly, and I can trust myself with him without fear, especially 
 for so short a distance as from this to Truxillo. I have no fear of 
 the French, and neither robber nor guerilla in Spain will insult the 
 relative of so famous a en valior as Don Alvaro de Villa Franca. Ah ! 
 Iiad Alvaro lived in the days when Spain was most glorious, when 
 her chivalry were the first in Europe, his deeds would have outvied 
 even those of the Cid." 
 
 Eonald's indecision in this matter was ended by the arrival of 
 an orderly, saying that the colonel mshedto see him as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 •' AVhat a confounded predicament ! " exclaimed the impatient 
 Eonald, when the Highlander was gone. " I do not half like in- 
 trusting you with this cunning priest ; and yet I must, — there is no 
 alternative. I believe I am selected by Sir Rowland Hill to carry 
 the account of this victorious morning to Lord Wellington ; and as 
 I cannot protect you myself, I mvist resign you to him." 
 
 Konald racked his invention to find other schemes, but the young 
 lady had made up her mind, and was obstinate in consequence ; 
 therefore her cavalier had to submit, and make such arrangements 
 for her departure as would enable him to repair immediately to 
 Passifern, 
 
 A few duros procured D'Estouville's splendid black charger from 
 a Portuguese cacadore, whose share of plunder it had become, and a 
 side-saddle was placed upon it for the lady. The priest had his stout 
 mule, and another was procured for a ruddy, brown-cheeked jpaAsfn^ff, 
 or young peasant girl, whom Catalina had engaged to accompany her 
 by the way as a female attendant, and who, although she had a proper 
 saddle, thought it did not in the least savour of want of vergnenza 
 (modesty) to ride, a la cavalier, in the Spanish manner. 
 
 Ronald having got all these matters arranged satisfactorily with 
 promptitude and despatch, returned to bid adieu to Catalina, wha 
 drooped upon his shoulder, and gave way to a passion of tears. 
 
 He was so much agitated by this display of affection and tender- 
 ness, that he could scarcely persuade himself to separate from her, 
 and with difliculty restrained a strong inclination to make some ra;>h 
 and formal proposal. But, as he pressed his lip to her pale cheek, 
 he assured her that he would in a very short time obtain leave of 
 absence, and visit her at Idanha-a-Yelha. 
 
 But for some faint hopes and lingering love for Alice Lisle, Ronald 
 would at this exciting moment have brought matters to a climax 
 with the beautiful donna ; and if it is possible for the heart to have 
 feyo loves at once, his was certainly in that singular predicament. 
 His case is truly described in the words of the Scottish song, — 
 
 " My heart is divided between them, 
 I diiina ken which I wad hae; 
 Rif^ht willingly my heart I wad grien them, 
 iiut how can I gie it to twae' 
 
 N 
 
178 THE KOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 " My heart it is ru^gM and tonnonted, 
 I'd live wi' or die for them huitii ; 
 I've dune wliat I've often repented. 
 To baith I have phjjhted my aith." 
 
 They were reclining in the recess of the opening or ^viiidovr, 
 Uirougi'i ^vhicll the vines straggled. Poor Catalinaj, as the hour of 
 departure drew nigh, no longer cared to conceal tue sentiments of 
 her heart, but hung on lionald's breast ; while he returned her 
 embrace with ardour, and their glossy hair mingled together in the 
 bright sunshine. At that moment the door was opened, and Louis 
 Lisle entered abruptly. 
 
 Having delivered over his prisoners to a cavalry guard among the 
 mountains, he had returnea hastily to Almarez, anxious to see 
 Ilonald Stuart, and bring about that long-delayed reconciliation and 
 explanation for which he so much yearned, — the few v/ords spoken 
 before the forts were stomied having, to use a common-place phrase, 
 " broken the ice between them." Pull of this frank intention, Lisle, 
 after searching the village, had found the cottage where Ronald was ; 
 and entering with that unceremonious freedom, which is learned by 
 a residence m camp or quarters, found, to his no small surprise and 
 indignation, that there was one more there than he expected. 
 
 Catalina started from Eonald's arm, and hid her blushing cheek 
 in arranging the masses of her luxuriant hair, llonald eyed the 
 nnwelcomc intruder with a look of sui7)rise, which he was at no 
 pains to conceal ; while the latter gave him a fierce glance of im- 
 patience, anger, and dislike ; and muttering — "Pardon me. I am, 
 1 believe, under a mistake, which will be explained when I have a 
 fitting time and place," he withdrew as hastily as he had entered. 
 
 Scarcely had he retired, when the monk of T'llerida brought his mule 
 and Catalina's horse to the door of the cottage. The lady fastened, 
 on her sombrero, with its long veil and white feather, llonald tied 
 the ribbons of the velvet mantilla, and leading her to the door, 
 assisted her to mount. Her new attendant, the black-eyed paisana, 
 — all blushes and smiles of pleasure at the prospect of a Badajoz hat 
 with a silver band, a pelisse and frock of the best cloth from Arrago 
 de Puerco, trimmed with iaee, &c., which her lady had promised 
 her — appeared mounted, as we have before described, upon a mule, 
 the housings of which were better than the friar's, which consisted 
 entirely of rope. 
 
 Poor Victor D'Estouville's black war-steed still had its embossed 
 bit and military bridle, with the outspread v\Tngs of the Imperial 
 eagle on its forehead and rich martingale, — which, with the saddle- 
 cloth, embroidered with the badges of the old Guard, formed a. 
 strange contrast with the faded side-pad of coarse Zafra leather, 
 which was girthed on it for the lady's accommodation. 
 
 When theyhad departed, he watched their retiring figures as long 
 as they were in sight, until a turn of the road, as they entered the 
 now-deserted pass of Miravete at a gallop, hid them from his view, 
 and he turned towards the bivouac on the mountain side, feeling a 
 heaviness of heart and presentiment of approaching evil, caused 
 probably by a re-action of the spirits after the fierce excitement of 
 the morning, but for which, at that moment, he could not account. 
 His distrust of the padre Jerome, the guide, increased when he 
 recalled and reviewed many suspicious and singular points of his cha- 
 racter. Communing with himself, he was slowiy ascending the slope 
 towards the bivouac, forgetting altogether the orders of the colonel^ 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 17* 
 
 and turning now and then to view tlie little village of Almarez. 
 embosomed amonj^ the umbrageous groves that grew around it, and 
 *'ar u^j the sides ot the undulating Lina behind ; the A\inding Tagus 
 ilowing in front, and the vast expanse of landscape and bhic sky 
 beyond, were all .pleasing objects, and he gazed upon them with the 
 delight of one avIio knew how to appreciate their beauty. He was 
 aroused from his reverie by hearing his own name called, and on 
 looking about, saw, to his surprise. Major Campbell, reposing his 
 bulky frame in a little grassy hollow. His neck was bare, his coat 
 was unbuttoned, and his belt, sash, &c., lay scattered about. Near 
 him his horse was grazing quietly, but the' major seemed inflamed 
 by the utmost anger and excitement. Ronald advanced hastily 
 towards him, and perceived that his servant, Jock Pentland, was 
 dressing a wound on his neck, which was covered with blood. 
 
 " What has happened, Campbell ? " 
 ^ " Such an affair as never happened belbre, even in Egji^t," replied 
 the other furiously, with a mighty oath — sworn in Gaelic, however. 
 
 " Nothing very bad, I hope ? " 
 
 " Only a stab in the neck, three inches by one ! " 
 
 " I knew not that you were wounded. Surely I saw you safe and 
 sound after the mine was sprung at Eagusa. But I had better send 
 the surgeon, or Stuart, his assistant, to you." 
 
 " Oh, no ! 'tis a mere scratch, which I would not value a brass 
 bodle, had I received it during the brush this morning; but to gain 
 it as I did, — d — n it ! it excites all my fury. Did you see that blasted 
 friar?" 
 
 " The guide ? I left him but an hour ago. But who wounded you ? 
 Surely not the priest ? " 
 
 " An old acquaintance of yours." 
 
 "Of mine!" 
 
 " Of yours, by the Lord ! The rascal is disguised as a priest of the 
 Convento de todos Santos at Merida. A short time ago I met the 
 rogue leading a mule this way : his face was bare, — I knew him 
 instantly, and strove to capture him, that the provost-marshal might 
 in time become acquainted with his throat, which I grasped. Quick 
 as lightning he unsheathed a poniard, and dealt a blow at my neck, 
 which, alighting luckily on my gorget, glanced upwards, giving me a 
 severe cut under the ear." 
 
 " Misery ! You have not yet told his name," 
 
 " Are you really so dull as not yet to have guessed who he is ? 
 Tighten the bandage, Jock ! I knew the cheat-the-woodie as well 
 as I would have done old Mohammed Djedda^ Osmin Djihoun, the 
 shoemaker at Grand Cairo, or any queer carle it has been my luck to 
 meet in campaigning. But come to the bivouac, and I will give you 
 a detailed account of the matter over the contents of a keg of especial 
 good ecm de vie, which it was my luck to capture this morning." 
 
 " 'Tis Cifuentes ! Powers above ! and to him — a bandit and 
 murderous bravo, have I intrusted the guidance of DonAlvaro's 
 sister ! I must follow and rescue her from this monster, ere worse 
 may come of it." 
 
 " What is all this ? Of what do you speak ? " said the major 
 struck with wonder at the other's vehemence and emotion. 
 
 " How shall I follow them ? Withered be my hand, that it struck 
 not the cowl from his accursed visage, and discovered him ere he 
 outwitted me in such a manner ! " 
 
 s 2 
 
180 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 " l>y Ihe touil) of the Campbells he has a bee in his bonuet ! ** 
 continued the major, with increased wonder, while even Jock 
 Pentland (a hard-fen lured .Lowlander with high cheek-bones) stayed 
 his employment to stare at him. 
 
 " "\\'hat tomjited the villain to come hither disfniised as a priest ? " 
 
 " The reward odered l)y Sir llowland for a guide, — and perhaps he 
 had some design against your life. He bears you no good will." 
 
 " As he has failed in that by ray vigilance, the brunt of his hate 
 will fall with double fury on Donna Catalina, to whose noble brother 
 he is an especial foe. This caused the presentiment, the secret feeliui? 
 of coming evil, which has haunted me this whole morning; and 
 truly it was not for nought. ^lajoi-, my resolution is taken : I will 
 set off across the hills in pursuit of them this instant. You must 
 lend me your horse, and make the best excuse for me you can to the 
 colonel, as I shall not be back till to-morrow perhaps. Ho ! now 
 for the chase ! Narvaez is likely to find a cairn among the moun- 
 tains, if he comes mthin reach of my sword." 
 
 He leaped upon Campbell's horse while speaking, and urging it 
 towards the hills, was away in a mcment, while the proprietor sprung 
 from the ground, exclaiming hastily, " Halloa ! ho, man ! "\Yliat, 
 the devil, is the fellow mad ? Halt, Stuart ! By heavens ! he will 
 break his neck, and the horse's wind, if he rides at that rate. And 
 what shall I do without my horse ? I must visit the guards to-night 
 on foot. What on earth can the fellow mean ? Surely the uproar 
 ^'f this morning's assault has crazed him ! You remember, Pentland, 
 that two of the Toiv-rows* went mad outright after the battle of 
 -llexandria, when we Avere in Egj'pt with Sh' llalph." 
 
 Heedless alike of the cries, threats, and entreaties which the major 
 sent after him in a voice of no measured compass, on went Eonald, 
 flying at full speed through the bivouac of theoOth regiment, plung- 
 ing right through a large fire, scattering burning billets, camp-kettles, 
 cook's ration-moat, &c., in every direction. Overturning soldiers 
 and piles of arras in his progress,' he drove recklessly on towards the 
 pass of Miravete, down the deep gors;e of which he galloped just 
 when the sun ^vas dipping beyond the western horizon, and the 
 notes of the bugles sounding the evening " retreat" died away on the 
 breeze behind him. 
 
 Onward ho rode along the narrow raountain-path, the hills 
 becoming darker and loftier, the overhanging craigs more awful and 
 precipitous on each side, as they heaved their black fronts over the 
 road, filled with yawning fissures and rents, grooving black in the 
 gloom of the evening. But these had no terrors for the Scotsman, — ■ 
 he heeded not the increasing depth of the shadows, or the wild 
 appearance of the basaltic rocks ; he kept his eye fixed on the wind- 
 ings of the road, but no trace could he discover of those of whom he 
 was in pursuit. The line of march was dotted A\ith wounded soldiers, 
 straggling on to Merida (wliither they had been ordered to retire), 
 and sorae were dying on the road, unable to proceed further, while 
 others had expired outright, and were lying neglected by the way» 
 side. 
 
 Eonald returned not that evening, and when the troops ^vere 
 paraded next day, he was still absen't ; and the major's account of 
 the singular manner in which he galloped off among the mountains 
 
 * A familiar name for the grenadiers. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 181 
 
 in no way tended to lessen the anxiety which his friends felt at his 
 unaccountable absence. Cameron, who was a strict disciplinarian, 
 was very indignant, and resolved that the moment he did return he 
 should be deprived of his sword and put under arrest. The despatch 
 and captured colours of the fortress, together with General Hill's 
 earnest recommendation of llonald, which it was intended he should 
 have carried to Lord AVellington himself, were sent in charge of 
 Captain Bevan. The same day the victors of Almarez retired, to 
 rejoin the rest of the division at Almendralejo, where Sir William 
 Erskine (who had been left in command) expected hourly to be 
 attacked by Marshal Soult, whose troops, however, never appeared, 
 but kept close within their cantonments in the neighbouring 
 province. 
 
 Nine days elapsed before the regiments rejoined the division, and 
 no word was yet heard of the missing Stuart, although every inquiry 
 was made at Villa Maria, San Pedro, and Medelin, where they made 
 long halts. He was given over by his friends as a lost man, and poor 
 Evan Iverach was well nigh demented. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 THE MATADOE. 
 
 E/ONALD rode at a rapid gallop along the wild mountain-path which 
 I have already described. The evening Avas growing dark, and in 
 that solitary place the sound of the horse's hoofs alone broke the 
 death-like stillness, and awoke the echoes of the frowning rocks. 
 
 In one place lay dead a poor soldier of the 50th regiment. His 
 wife and three little children were clinging to his corse, and lament- 
 ing bitterly. Night was closing around them, and the desolate 
 creatures seemed terrified at its approach in such a wild spot, and 
 called to Ronald loudly as he rode past ; but he was too eager to over- 
 take Catalina and her dangerous companion, to waste time unneces- 
 sarily. But he made an involuntary stop a little farther on, where a 
 soldier of his own company, a smart young fellow, named Arcliibald 
 Logan, lay Avrilhing in agony across the road, with the dust of which 
 his blood was mixing as it oozed in heavy drops from a wound in the 
 breast, — a musket-shot having passed through his left shoulder-belt. 
 Ronald reined in the animal he rode, to stay for a moment and gaze 
 xipon him. He was the same young soldier whose aged mother had 
 accompanied him with such sorrow to the beach at Leith, on the 
 morning Major Campbell's detachment embarkedj and Ronald (under 
 whose notice this circumstance had brought him) had always ad- 
 mired his soldier-like smartness and steadiness. He was dying now. 
 and evidently in a state of delirium ; broken sentences and wilcl 
 observations fell from his clammy lips. Ronald spoke to him : 
 
 " He heard it, but he heeded n^'t : his eyes 
 Were with his heart, and that was far away." 
 
 ** O mother ! mother ! " said he, in piercing accents, " dinna upbraid 
 me wi' enhsting and leaving ye. Ye ken weel for what I did it, — to 
 pay my puir auld faither's debt to Peter Grippy, and to free him frae 
 the tolbooth o' Edinburgh. But he wadna allow me, and ca'ed the 
 bounty his bairn's bluid siller. Put ver face close to mine, mother 
 
183 TKK KOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 for I hear yer grectin' and inoanin', but I canna see the face I fain 
 would look on. Tell my faither to lay me in the sunny side o' the 
 kirk-yard,— ye ken the place week 1 aye loed to pu' the gowans and 
 hluc-'bclls that grew there in simmer. Menie Ormelie lies there, 
 araang the lang green deid gra-^s ; lay me— lay me close to her. O 
 mother ! ye ken I loed her wool ; we herded the s,ame kye, and — " 
 His voice sunk away into a whisper, and llonald became deeply 
 affected. After a pause, he continuea iu the same tone of agony,- 
 " Bonnie Alenie,— Menie wi' the gowden hair ! She lies between the 
 muckle deid-stane o' the lairds o' Glencorse, and the vault o' the 
 auld folk o' Castle-Outer. Lay me close by her side, and plant some 
 o' the broon heather frae the bounie Peutlands — the Pentlands 
 I loe sae weel — on the heavy liowme that covers me." This was 
 the last effort. A gush of blood spouted from the wound, and he 
 died ^nthout a groan. 
 
 Stuart could scarce refrain from tears at witnessing the fate of this 
 poor private soldier. Death, amidst the fierce exciteinent and tumult 
 of battle, Avhere "the very magnitude of the slaughter throws a 
 softening disguise over its cruelties and horrors," is nothing to death 
 when it comes stealing over a human being thus, slowly and gradually, 
 having in it something at once awful and terribly impressive ; and 
 Ronald Stuart, blunted and deadened as his feelings were by cam- 
 paigning, felt this acutely, as he turned away from the corse of his 
 comrade and countryman. 
 
 His attention was next arrested by a monstrous raven, or corbie, 
 which sat on a fragment of rock, watching attentively the scene, as if 
 awaiting his coming banquet ; but llonald compelled it to take to 
 flight, by uttering a loud holloa, which reverberated among the rocks 
 of the mountain wilderness. It was now night ; but the moon arose 
 above the summits of the hills, glomng through openings in the thin 
 clouds like a shield of pohshed silver, and pouring a flood of pale 
 light along the pass of Miravete, casting into yet deeper shadow the 
 rifted rocks which overhung it. The speed at which he rode soon 
 left the mountains far behind him, and about midnight brought him 
 close to the gloomy wood of Jarciejo ; but on all that line of road 
 he had discovered no trace of Donna Catalina, or tlie rullian 
 who had deceived her ; and as the country thereabouts was totally 
 uninhabited, he met no one who could give him the slight<?st infor- 
 mation, and his mind became a prey to fear and apprehension that 
 some act of blood or treachery might be perpetrated before he came 
 up with them. 
 
 " There they are ! Now, then. Heaven be thanked ! " lie ex- 
 claimed, on seeing figures on horseback standing at Saint Mary's 
 well, a rude fountain at the cross-road leading from Truxillo to 
 Lacorchuela, wliich intersects that from Almarez to Jarciejo. He 
 loosened his sword in the scabbard, but on advancing found that he 
 was mistaken. He met a stout cavalier of Lacorchuela escorting two 
 ladies, whose singular equipage would have inclined him to laugh, 
 had he been in a merrier mood. They were seated on two arm- 
 chairs, slung across the back of a strong mule, and facing outwards, 
 rode back to back. They were enveloped in large mantillas, and their 
 bright eyes flashed in the moonlight, as they each withdrev/ the 
 aniifaz, or mask of black silk, which covered their fkces to protect 
 them from the dust, the heat of the sun, or the chill night-air when 
 travelhng. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 18S 
 
 llonald hastily saluted them, and asked their escort if a priest and 
 Wo females had passed that way ? The cavaher, who v;a;s mounted 
 on a line Spanish horse, raised his broad beaver, throwing? back his 
 heavy brown cloak as he chd so, as if to show that he was well armed 
 by displayinf: the j^littering mountings of the pistols, long stiletto, and 
 massive Toledo sabre, which for protect ion he carried in the leathern 
 baldric encircling his waist. He said, that when he had first stopped 
 at the fountain to rest, about an hour ago, a priest and tAvo ladies had 
 passed, and taken the road directly for the forest of Jarciejo. 
 
 Ronald waited to hear no niore, but hurriedly muttering his 
 thanks, urged the good animal he rode to a gallop in the direction 
 pointed out, regardless as to whether or not the whole band of des- 
 peradoes recognizing Narvaez Cifuentes as their leader might be in 
 the wood. He had not ridden half a mile further, when the horse of 
 D'Estouville passed him at a rapid trot, with his bridle-rein trailing 
 on the ground and the saddle reversed, hanging under its belly, girths 
 uppermost. Some terrible catastrophe must liave happened ! A 
 groan broke from llonald; and in an ngony of apprehension for the 
 fate of the fair rider, he madly goaded onward the horse he rode, 
 using the point of his sword as a substitute for spurs, which as a 
 regimental infantry oflicer he did not wear. 
 
 The mules of the priest and paisana, grazing the herbage at the 
 entrance of the wood, next met his view. The light-coloured gar- 
 ments of a female form lying on the road, caused him to spring from 
 the saddle in dismay. It was not Cixtalina, but the poor peasant 
 girl of Almarez : her gilt crucifix, which .she had worn ostenta- 
 tiously on her bare bosom, was gone, as w:is likemse the trunk-mail 
 which she ha,d carried. She was lying dead, stabbed by a dagger in 
 the throat, where a ghastly wound appeared. The feathers and veil 
 of Catalina's hat lay fluttering near, and the bruised and torn ap- 
 pearance of the grass and bushes bore evidence that some desperate 
 struggle had taken place here. These outrages seemed to have been 
 conunitted recently, as the cheek of the dead ghd was yet warm and 
 soft when E-onald touched it. 
 
 " God help you, Catalina ! My thoughtlessness has destroyed you : 
 'tis I that have done all this ! " he exclaimed, as he struck his hana 
 passionately upon his forehead, and reeled against a tree. 
 
 " gracios eaballero .'" said a decrepit and wrinkled old man, 
 arrayed in the garb of some religious order, emerging as if from con- 
 cealment among the trees ; " a most horril^le scene has been acted 
 here. I saw it from among the olive-bushes, where I lay sleeping 
 till the noise awoke me." 
 
 "The donna, mi amigo, — the young lady, where is she ? Tell me, 
 for the love of that Virgin you adore so much !" 
 
 " O los hifidelos ! and dost not thou adore her ?" asked the old 
 man querulously, while his sunken and bleared eyes kindled and 
 lighted up. 
 
 "Trifle not, old man, but tell me instantly!" cried Stuart, in a 
 hoarse and furious voice. 
 
 " 'Twas done in a moment, — en quitam alia essas pajas, as the 
 proverb says." 
 
 " Curse on your proverb — " 
 
 " 'Tis no business of mine, senor soldado, and I will have nought 
 to do with it. A otro perro con esse huesso, says the proverb." 
 
 " "Wretch I -^-ou will drive me chstracted ! Tell me what you have 
 
IJU THE ROMANCE OF WAH. 
 
 Mjcn, or, in despite of your grey hairs, I will cleave you to the teeth. 
 The senora — " 
 
 "Was dragged into the forest ahout an hour ago, and horrible 
 noises have come from it ever since, disturbing me and keeping me 
 from &leeii. 'Y\s hard for an old man to be annoyed : the proverb 
 says — 
 
 " Silence ! " replied the otber, placing his hand on the toothless 
 mouth of the poor dotard. '" Surely I heard something ! " 
 
 At that moment a despairing cry, such as it is seldom one's lot to 
 hear, arose from the dingles of the wood, and seemingly at no great 
 distance. Smart waited to hear no more, but rushed ^v^til his drawn 
 weapon towards the spot, making the forest ring ^nth threats, cries, 
 and the bold holloa Anth which he had learned to awake the echoes 
 of his native hills and rocks. His Highland habits as a forester and 
 huntsman, acquired under the tuition of Donald Iverach, when 
 tracking the fox and the deer, gave him good aid now, and unerringly 
 he folloued the direction of that terrible cry. 
 
 He had not penetrated above a hundred yards among the beeches 
 and cork -wood, when, on breaking into a narrow pathway, he found 
 lying motionless on the sod and bedabbled Anth blood, from a wound 
 in her bosom, the vmfortunate of whom he was in search. 
 
 " Catalina of Axilla Franca ! Adored Calalina !" he exclaimed, in 
 accents of horror aTid affection, as he tossed his sword from him and 
 sunk down beside her on hLs knees ; " this — this is all my doing. I 
 have brought you to destruction by intrusting you, in an evil hour, 
 to a bandit and matador ! " 
 
 He had no idea of pursuing the assassin. His whole soul v>'ns 
 AVTapt up in the sad spectacle before him, and he thought only of 
 endeavouring to save her, if possible, before she perished from loss of 
 blood, which was flowing freely from a deep dagger-wound in her 
 pure and beautiful neck, evidently from the same weapon which had 
 struck Major Campbell, and slain the paisana by a blow in the same 
 part of the frame. Her bosom was exposed and covered with the 
 red current, which stained the moonlit leaves and petals of the 
 forest flowers where she lay. Unflinchingly had Ronald that morn- 
 ing beheld men weltering and wallowing in blood ; but he shrunk 
 in agony at the sight of Catalina's. 
 
 " Catalina do \''illa Franca ! dearest, hear my voice ! Speak to me. 
 Never until this moment of horror and woe did I know how much 1 
 loved you." He rent the silk sash from his shoulder and endeavoured 
 to stanch the blood, while the unfortunate girl opened her lustrous 
 eyes, and gazed upon him with a look Avhich, while it told of exquisite 
 pain— of love and delight, too surely convinced him, by its terrible 
 expression, th^.t she was — dying. 
 
 You hav( come, Eonald. I exyiected you many — many months 
 ago," she whispered in broken accents, while her wild black eyes wero 
 filed on his with an expression of tenderness. " Hold me up, dearest 
 — hold me up, that I may look upon you for the last time, — on the 
 face that I have loved so long, and used to dream about in the long 
 nights at Merida and Almarez. O that my brother, Alvaro, was here 
 too ! Holy — holy Mother of God ! look on me — I am dying ! " 
 
 "Ah, Catalina ! speak not thus: every word sinks like a sword 
 into my heart. Dying ! oh, it cannot be ! You shall hve if the aid 
 of art and affection can preserve you. You shall hve," he adde^ 
 franMcly, " and for me." 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAIC. IBS' 
 
 ** O no— never — not for you !" she said bitterly, in tones gradually 
 Decoming more hollow ; " it may not be. Alas ! 1 am not what I was 
 an hour ngo. I cannot— I cannot now be yours, even should I escape 
 death, whose cold hand is passing over my heart." 
 
 "Almighty Power, preserve my senses ! What is this you say ?" 
 he replied, raising her head upon his knee, and gathering in his hand 
 the soft dishevelled curls which streamed freely upon the turf. 
 " AVhat mean these terrible words. Catalina ?" 
 
 Before she replied, a shudder convulsed her frame, and drops of 
 white froth fell from her lips. A strange light sparkled in her eyes : 
 there was something singularly fearful and beaiitiful in the expres- 
 sion of her pale countenance at that moment. 
 
 " I need not shrink from telling you the dreadful truth, — I need 
 not deceive you," she added, speaking more lluently as a passionate 
 flow of tears' relieved her. "1 feel in my heart a sensation which 
 announces that the moment of dissolution is at hand. I hail it with 
 joy, — I wish not lo live. The wretch who deceived us has robbed 
 me of that which is most precious to a A^oman, and then with his 
 dagger — " 
 
 A moan escaped the lips of Eimald, and he gnashed his teeth mth 
 absolute fury, while big drops, glittering in the moonlight, stood 
 upon his pale forehead, and his throat became so swollen that he 
 was almost choked. He snatched up his sword, and with difficulty 
 restrained the inclination he felt to rush deeper into the wood, in 
 search of Cifuentes. 
 
 But hoAv could he leave Catalina, the torn and disordered condition 
 of whose garments, together with the wounds and bruises on her 
 delicate hands and arms, bore e%ndence that a desperate struggle had 
 taken place before the first outrage was accomplished. Stuart reeled 
 as if a ball had passed through his brain, and the forest-trees seemed 
 to rock around liim as if shaken by an earthquake. The fierce 
 emotion passed away, and was succeeded by a horrible calmness, — a 
 feeling of settled and morbid desperation. He passed his hand once 
 or twice over his brow, as if to clear his thoughts and arrange them 
 before he again knelt beside Catalina, who bad closed her eyes and 
 lay still, as if in a deep slumber. He thought that the spirit had 
 passed from her ; but the laint beating of her heart, as he laid his 
 cheek on her soft breast, convinced him that she yet hved. liaising 
 her from the ground, he endeavoured to make his way through the 
 wood to where he had left the aged priest, to the end that some means 
 might be procured to save her life, if it was yet possible to do so. 
 But he had net borne her a dozen yards when the branch of a tree 
 tore ofl" the si;5ii with which he had hastily bound up the wound, and 
 the biood gushed forth with greater violence than before. 
 
 " Mother Mary, be gracious unto me ! and forgive me if I think of 
 aught else than heaven in this awful moment ! " murmured Catahna 
 in a soft and plaintive voice. " Ah, the pangs, the torments I endure ! 
 Oh, im querida, carry me no farther ; 'tis useless, — I am dying. Alas ! 
 dishonoured as I am, I would not wish to live. Lay me down here, 
 where the grass is soft and green. Ronald, here ends our love and 
 my uope togetlier ! " 
 
 In Stuart's face there was an expression which pen can never 
 describe, as he laid her down gently on the turf, and sustaining her 
 head upon his arm, bent over her in silent sorrow and misery. 
 
 "Are you near me still, i>?/ qv.eo-ida V' she murmured tremulously, 
 
186 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 " Catalina, 1 am yet with you, — my arm is ai-ound you." 
 
 "Alas I the light has left my eyes ; death is darkeninj^ my vision.** 
 
 " Mercy of Ueaven ! it cannot be thus, — they are bright as ever ; 
 but a cloud has overshadowed the moon." 
 
 " llonald, it is the hand of death ; I see you no longer. Are you 
 near me ?" 
 
 " My hands are pressing yours, — alas ! they are very cold and 
 clammy." 
 
 " I feel them not : the numbness of my limbs will soon extend to 
 mv breast. "\Mien I am gone, let twelve masses be said for my soul. 
 Alas, you \n\l think them of no use ! But promise me this, tliat I 
 may die more easily and peacefully." 
 
 " I do, Catalina, I do." 
 
 " O that Alvaro were here, that I might hear the sound of his 
 voice. — that he might hear mine for the Lost time before I pass to the 
 •world of shadows. He will be lonely in the world without me. 
 AJvaro is the last of his race, — the last of a long line of illustrious 
 hidalgos. Holy Lady of Majorga, — sweet San Juan de Bios, inter- 
 cede for me ! Dearest E-ouald, kiss me — kiss me for the last time, 
 while I have yet feehng, for death is chilhng my whole frame." 
 
 In an agony of love and sorrow, he passionately pressed his lips to 
 those of the dying girl. She never spoke again. It almost seemed 
 as if he had intercepted her last breath, for at the moment their iips 
 met, a slight tremor passed over her whole form, and the pure spirit 
 of the beautiful donna had fled for ever. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 EL CONVENTO DE SAIn'TA CKUZ. 
 
 Geet daylight was stragghng through themuliioned windows of 
 the nunnery of Santa Cruz de Jarcicjo, which stood close on the 
 skirts of the wood, when the portress was aroused from iier straw 
 pallet by a loud peal at the bell, which hung in the porch. On with- 
 dra-sving the wooden cover of the vizzy-hole in the outer door, she 
 crossed herself, and turned up her eyes ; and instead of attending to 
 those without, ran to tell the lady abbess that a British officer on 
 horseback, bearing in his arms a dead woman, had been led thither 
 by the old padre Ignacio el Pastor, who was demanding admittance. 
 The abbess, who in the convent was kno^n as El Mad re Santa 
 Martha, had many scruples about opening the gates to them, but 
 another tremendous peal at the bell, seconded by a blow which 
 Eonald dealt with the basket-hilt of his sword on the iron-studded 
 door, put an end to the matter, and slie desired the portress to usher 
 them into the parlatorio. Entering the gateway in the massive wall 
 surrounding the gardens of the convent, they were led through the 
 formal lines of flower-beds and shrubbery to the main building, 
 ■where a carved Gothic door in a low round archway, on the key- 
 stone of which appeared a mouldered cross, gave them admittance 
 to the chamber called the parlatorio, where the sisters ■were allowed 
 to receive the visits of their fHends at the iron gratings in a stone 
 screen which crossed the room, completely separating it from the 
 rest of the convent. These grates were strong bars of iron, crossed 
 
THE llOUvVNCE OF WAR. 187 
 
 and recrossed with wire, so as to preclude all possibility of touching 
 the inmates, who now crowded close to them, all gazing mtli amaze- 
 ment and vague apprehension at the corse of the young lady, which 
 the officer deposited gently on a wooden bench, and seated himself 
 "beside it in apathetic sorro-\v, unmindful of the many pitying eyes 
 that were fixed upon him. I^.ieanwhile the lady abbess, a handsome 
 woman about twenty, mth a stately figure, a remarkably fine face, 
 and soft hazel eyes, entered the apartment, and advanced to \vhere 
 Catalina lay, with the tendcrcst commiseration strongly marked on 
 her features, which, hke those of the sisterhood, were pale and sallosv 
 from confinement. 
 
 Por an explanation of the scene before her, she turned to the 
 decrepit old priest Ignacio el Pastor, or the Shepherd, a name which 
 he had gained in consequence of his having become a guardian of 
 Merino sheep among the mountains of the Lina on the demo- 
 lition of his monastery, v/hich had been destroyed by the French 
 troops when Marshal Massena was devastating the country in his 
 retreat. 
 
 Interlarding his narrative with many a Spanish proverb, he related 
 the tale of Catalina's assassination. The querulous tones of his voice 
 were interrupted by many a soft expression of pity and pious ejacu- 
 lation from the sisters at the grating, gazing '^vith morbid curiosity 
 on the fair form of the dead, whose high bosom was covered with 
 coagulated blood, and the long spiral curls of whose ringlets swept 
 the pavement of the chamber. 
 
 The lady abbess, who was far from being one of those sour, ancient 
 dames that the superiors of convents are generally reputed to be, 
 seated herself by llonald's side, and seeing that, although his proud 
 dark eyes were dry and tearless, he was deeply affhcted, she prayed 
 him to be comforted ; but he hid his face among the thick tresses of 
 the dead, and made no immediate reply. 
 
 " She is indeed most beautiful ! As she now lies, her features 
 wear a sublimity which might become an image of Our Lady," 
 observed the abbess, passing her hand softly over the cold white brow 
 of Catalina. " She seems only to sleep, — her white eyehds and long 
 black lashes are so placidly closed ! And this is the sister of the 
 noble Cavalier de Villa Franca, of whom we hear so much ? If man 
 *3an avenge, Don Alvaro vaW do it amply." 
 
 " Avenge her ! " muttered Ronald, through his clenched teeth. 
 " Noble senora, that task shall be mine." 
 
 " Alas ! cavalier," interrupted the abbess, " we commit a deadly sm 
 in talking thus." 
 
 " JEchemospelillos a la mar, says the proverb ; we must forget and 
 forgive," chimed in El Pastor. " Vengeance belongs not to this 
 earth, — 'tis not ours, miserable reptiles as we are. VVhat sayeth the 
 holy writ ? Lo, you now — " 
 
 ^" Peace, Ignacio ; I would speak. You are getting into the burden 
 of some old sermon of yours, and it ir, a wonder you put so many 
 words together without another proverb," said the lady abbess, avS 
 she took llonald's hand kindly within her own, which indeed was a 
 very soft and white one. " El Pastoi^'s account of this aflfair is 
 somewhat confused. Tell me, senor, how long it is since this dreadful 
 deed was perpetrated." 
 
 " But yesternight— only yesternight. To me it appears as if a 
 thousand years had elapsed since then, and the events of years age 
 
i'S8 THE IJOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 eeciu to have passed but yesterday. All is ccnfusion and chaos m 
 iny mind." 
 
 '' The noble senora was, perhaps, some relation of yours ?" 
 
 " No. She is of Spain, — I of Scotland." 
 
 " Your Avife, possibly, senor ?" 
 
 '* jMy Avedded Mviie indeed she would have been, had she lived ; but 
 that resolve came too late!" he replied in a troubled voice, as he 
 pressed the hand of Catalina to his lips. " But senoritas, 1 must not 
 spend longer time in childish sorrow,"' he added, starting up and 
 erecting his .stout and handsome figure before the eyes of the sister- 
 hood, who, in spite of their veils and hoods, knew how to admire a 
 smart young soldier mth a war-worn suit of harness. " It would not 
 become me to do so, and my duties call me elsewhere. Every means 
 must be taken to bring retribution on the head of the demon Nar- 
 vaez ; and I trust that the great Power which sutlers no crime to 
 pass unpunished, will aid me in discovering him one day before I 
 leave Spain. Divine vengeance "vvill again place him at my mercy, 
 as he has been twice before, when, but for my ill-timed interference, 
 Don Alvaro had slaia him, — and my heart leaps within me at the 
 thought of having his base blood upon my weapon. Yes, senoritas, 
 his blood, shed M"itli my own hands, and streaming hot and thick 
 upon them, can alone avenge the death of Catalina. Some fatality 
 seems continually to throw this monster in my way ; and if ever we 
 cross each other again, most fully, amply, and fearfully shall this 
 unfortunate be revenged ; for I have sworn a secret oath — an oath 
 which may not be broken — that wherever I meet Cifuentes within 
 the realm of Spain, on moor or mountain, in city, camp, or field, 
 there will I slay him, though the next moment should be my last." 
 
 Kis form appeared to dilate while he spoke, and his eyes sparkled 
 with a keen and liery expression, which attested the firmness of his 
 determination and the bold recklessness of his heart. The excite- 
 ment under which he laboured im])arted a new eloquence to his 
 tones, and grace to his gesture : but he panted rather than breathed 
 while he spoke ; and the fierce glitter of his eye, together Avith the 
 strange ferocity of the AA'ords Avhicli his love and sorrow prompted, 
 caused the timid nuns of Santa Cruz to shrink back from the iron 
 grathigs. 
 
 " Ah ! senor," said tlie abbess, laying her hand upon his shoulder, 
 "I have already said vengeance is not ours. But vou have spoken 
 gallantly!" 
 
 "A noble cavalier ! Viva !" cried El Pastor, in a chuckling tone ; 
 " Hernandez de Cordova could not have spoken more bravely. Bneno 
 como el pan, as the old proverb tells us." 
 
 But when this burst of passion evaporated, he was again the sa(i 
 and sorrowful 3'oung man that he had at fir-st api)eared. As he 
 refused to partake of any refreshment, although pressed by the abbess 
 to do so, the padre El Pastor led him out to the convent garden, while 
 the nuns made preparations for the entombment of Catalina in their 
 oratory, or chapel. It was a bright sunshine morning ; but Ronald 
 was careless of its beauty and of the fragrance of the flowers freshly 
 blooming in the morning dew ; the beautiful arrangements of the 
 place, the arbours, the sparkling fountains, the statues of stone and 
 marble,— he passed them all by unheeded. 
 
 That night Catalina was buried in the cha^oel. The building was 
 brilhantly illuminated with coloured lamps, the softened lights of 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 189 
 
 which were reflected Irom the gilded columns, — from the organ with 
 its tall row of silver trumpet-like pipes — from the rich altars and 
 statues of polished metal placed in niches, where golden candlesticks 
 bore tall twinkling tapers, which from their recesses cast a strange 
 hght on the marble tombs of knights and long-departed warriors, 
 whose rusty swords, spurs, and faded banners were yet in some i)laces 
 hung over them, and whose deeds were represented on the ancient 
 pieces of mouldy and moth-eaten tapestry which hung gloomily on 
 the side-walls of the chapel, contrasted strongly with the glittering 
 images and gorgeously-coloured scripture-pieces, many of them said 
 to be the productions of Alonza Cano, the Michael Angelo of ^pain, 
 who flourished during the seventeenth century. 
 
 Honald Stuart, the only mourner there, ^valked by the side of the 
 shell, or basket of wicker-work, which contained all that remained 
 of Catalina, and which was borne through the chapel and deposited 
 on the high altar by six of the youngest nuns — three on each side, 
 carrying it by handles projecting I'rom the sides of the frame. 
 
 The requiem for the dead was now chanted, and thedulcct notes 
 of the lofty organ, blending in one delightful strain with the 
 melodious voices of the rams, ringing auiong the jiillared aisles, 
 echoing in the hollow vaults, and dying away in the distant arches 
 of the cloisters, produced such heavenly sounds as sulidued the heart 
 of Stuart, softening and soothing his sorrow. He listened in a sort 
 of ecstasy, almost deeming that the thrilling voice of Catalina was 
 mingled with the inspiring harmony he heard. He was moved to 
 tears, tears of sadness and enthusiasm, and almost involuntarily he 
 sunk on his knees at the marble steps of the altar, an attitude which 
 raised him immensely in the estimation of El Pastor and the sister- 
 hood, while the bright eyes of the mitred abbess sparkled as she 
 stretched her white hands glittering with jewels over him, as if 
 welcoming him to that church, the tenets of which he had never yet 
 inquired into. He had knelt down thus merely from excess of 
 veneration and a holy feeling, \ntli which the sublime service of the 
 Eoman Catholic church had inspired him. The music arose to its 
 utmost pitch at that moment ; the voices of the nuns and choristers 
 mounted to the full swell ; the trumpets of the organ pealed along 
 the groined roof, and caused the massive columns and the pavement 
 beneath them to tremble and vibrate with the soul-stirring grandeur 
 of the sound. 
 
 In the chancel, before the great altar, a pavement stone had been 
 raised and a deep grave dug, the soil of which lay piled in a gloomy 
 heap on the lettered stones around its yawning mouth. 
 
 On the chant being ended, four priests bore the bier of Catalina 
 to the side of the grave which was to receive her. The \vicker coflin 
 or shell had, no lid, and Eonald now looked upon her pale and still 
 beautiful features for the last time. She was not enveloped in a 
 ghastly shroud, but, after the fashion of her own country, had been 
 arrayed by the n\ms in a dress of the whitest muslin, adorned with 
 the richest luce and edgings of needle-work. Her fine hair was 
 disposed over her neck and bosom. A large chaplet of freshly- 
 gathered white roses encircled her forehead, giving her the appearance 
 of a bride dressed for the bridal rather than a corse for the tomb ; 
 and, but for the mortal paleness of her complexion, one would have 
 supposed that she only slept, so placidly did her closed eye-lashos 
 repose upon her soft cheek. 
 
190 THE KOMAJNCE OF WAB. 
 
 "While a slow, sad, but exquisitely melancholy dirge arose, the 
 Dare-ibotod priests proceeded to lower her into the cold damp grave, 
 but in a manner so peculiar and revolting, that the lover, who had 
 never witnessed a Spanish interment before, almost spmng forward 
 to stay their proceeding. Instead of lovrering the coflin into the 
 grave, they took out the body, permitting it to sink gently into it^e 
 narrow bed without other covering than the lace and muslin, 
 part of which El Pa<5tor drew over her face and ringlets, to hide 
 them from mortal eyes for ever. Each monk now seized a shovel, 
 and rapidly the coflinless remains were covered up with dry sand, 
 provided lor the purpose. 
 
 The feelings of poor Ronald were sadly outraged at the barbarous 
 mode of interment common in Spain for those not of the families of 
 grandees, but remonstrance would have been unavaihng. The 
 scraping and jarring of the iron shovels on the pavement, as they 
 hurled m decayed bones, damp red clay, stones^ and sand on that 
 fair and unprotected form, grated horribly on his ears ; but how did 
 he shrink and revolt from the ])Uinmelling of the body ! A stout 
 padre, seizing a billet of wood, shod with an iron ferule like a pavier's 
 rammer, began to tread upon the grave and rapidly beat down the 
 earth into it, so that all that had been taken out should be again 
 admitted. He had not given a dozen strokes in this disgusting 
 manner before Eonald shook oS" his apathy ; and grasping him by 
 the cope, dragged him fiercely backwards, commanding them at onco 
 to desist from a proceeding: so distressing. Two priests, with the 
 aid of iron levers, deposited a slab of marble above the tomb, and it 
 was closed for ever. It bore the hastily-carved legend, — 
 
 Aqui yace Catalina de Villa Frmica. 
 
 The slab probably remains yet in the chapel, if the convent of 
 Santa Cruz has escaped the wars of the Carlists and Christinos. As 
 soon as this sad ceremony was concluded, Eonald retired. 
 
 Two-and-thirty years have now elapsed since the tomb closed over 
 Catalina, but time has not yet effaced from Stuart's memory the 
 emotions u-hich he felt when hearing the sound of the duU, cold 
 earth failing on her unshrouded bosom ! In the parlatorio he com- 
 posed himself to write a long letter to Donna Inesella, giving an 
 account of her cousin's destruction, and bitterly upbraiding himself 
 as being the leading cause in the affair, although in reality he was 
 not. The reader ^vlil remember, that it was her own desire and 
 determination to confide herself to the care of the pretended priest 
 at Almarez. 
 
 0^^ing to the tumult in his mind, Eonald found the composition 
 of the letter no easy task, especially as that garrulous old man, El 
 Pastor, remained at his elbow, chattering away on unconnected 
 subjects, and bringing out now and then some musty Spanish 
 proverb. 
 
 " Look ye, senor," said he, regardless of the blots and blunders 
 that his interruptions caused Stuart to make ; " do you see that 
 image of our Holy Lady in the niche yonder ? " 
 
 " Well, padre." 
 
 " 'Tis the work of Alonza Cano." 
 
 " Pshaw ! what is that to me ? I never heard of thie gentleman 
 before." 
 
 "He was tho first of Spanish architects and painters, and withhia 
 
THE EOIIANCE OF WAE. 19l 
 
 own hands adorned many of our finest cliurches and palaces. He 
 was born at Grenada in the year 1600, and as the proverb says — ^' 
 
 " Never mind what it says. Por heaven's sake, mi atnigo, leave 
 me to write in peace." 
 
 '■' Did you but know that he lost the Avoman he loved by a dagger- 
 stroke from a matador, you Avould probably care more for the story 
 of his singular misfortunes," * 
 
 " Pardon me, padre," said Eonald, with a melancholy interest ; 
 " what were they ? " 
 
 "The full career of Alonza's glory was cut short thus. One 
 evening, on returning home, he found his wife, a most beautiful 
 woman, lying dead, with a dagger planted in her heart. His servant, 
 a vile Italian, the perpetrator of the deed, had fled, and by order of 
 the alcalde mayoi*, Alonza was arrested, and charged with having 
 slain the lady in a fit of jealousy. The dagger which the assassin 
 used was known to be that of Alonza ; he was a man naturally of a 
 fierce and jealous temper, and had kept Avatchful eyes on the senora, 
 who was the handsomest woman that ever promenaded on the 
 Prado, or Plaza, at Madrid ; and the comphments paid her by the 
 gay cavahers and guardsmen of the capital were as molten lead 
 poured into the heart of her husband, though of course very proud 
 of her, for she was a fine creature, — Como xin xtalmilo^ as the old 
 proverb says." 
 
 " Is this all the story, Ignacio ? " 
 
 " The rest is yet to come. The tail is the worst, senor ; as the old 
 saw saya, — Aun le falta la colapor desollar." 
 
 " The devil take your saws and proverbs ! You are as full of them 
 as your countrymen Sancho Panza." 
 
 "Yv^ell, senor; Alonza was racked without mercy to extort con- 
 fession, and he endured the most horrible torments without uttering 
 a word to criminate himself. By the king's order he was set free, 
 and died at a great age, a ix)or priest like myself. In his dyins hour, 
 when a brother held a crucifix before his glazing eyes, he clesired 
 him to remove it, saying the image of our ISaviour was so clumsily 
 done, that the sight of it pained him ; as the proverb says, senor 
 De paja — " 
 
 Eut llonald did not permit him to finish the adage, requesting 
 him to retire in a manner that was not to be disputed. Early next 
 morning he was despatched to Idanha-a-Vclha, bearing the letter 
 for Donna IneseUa. He resolutely refused to take a single maravedi 
 to defray his expenses, although the journey was a very long one. 
 So simple were his habits of living, learned while a shepherd among 
 the mountains, that he could easily subsist on charity and what he 
 could pick up by the wayside, where ripe oranges, luscious grapes, 
 and juicy pumpkins grcAv wild, or by chanting songs to the sound of 
 *he rebeck, — a primitive kind of guitar, having only three strings. 
 
 " I am accustomed to a wandering life, senor," said he, as he bade 
 Bonald adieu ; "it suits and squares will i me perfectly, — Qimdrado 
 y esqiiinado, as the proverb has it. Prail and withered as I appeai\ 
 I can well bear futigiie, and am as tough as an old toledo, and will 
 undertake to reach Idanha-a-"\'elha almost as soon as if mounted oa 
 the best mule that ever bore the sign of the cross on its back." 
 
 To keep his promise, pledged to Catalina, Ronald paid into the 
 treasury of ibi; c(;nvent two golden onzas, to obtain masses lor her 
 departed sj/irit. Let it not be imaKincd for a moment that h© 
 
192 THE 110M.4_NCE OF WAR. 
 
 believed in their efficacy ; but he remembered that it was Cataiina's 
 wish— indeed, ahnost her la.st request, that such should be done, and 
 he paid the onzu;? rather as a duty of affection than religion. This 
 act left him in indifferent pecuniary circumstances, as it carried 
 off the whole month's subsistence which ho had received from 
 the regimental jiayma^iter after the storm of Almarez. Pay was a 
 ?oarce matter witli the Peninsular troops, who, at the time the battle 
 <if A'ittoria wiu> fought, had not received a single farthing foi 
 upwards of six months. 
 
 An ai)ai*tmcnt opening off the parlatorio had been fitted up for 
 lionald by the orders of the lady abbess, and perliaps this ■v\as the 
 only occasion ever known of a man sleeping under the roof of the 
 convent of the Holy Cross,— an event' which, had it' happened 
 during the days of the terrible Inquisition, would probably have 
 been the means of dooming the abbess to death, and her nuns to 
 some severe penance. 
 
 It was a gloomy little chamber, \vith a grated window, through 
 which came the rays of the moon, and the rich fragrance of flowers 
 from the garden. A gaudily-painted Spanish bedstead, without 
 curtains, stood in one corner, and a solitary chair resting in another 
 constituted its furniture, unless I include a large Avooden crucifix 
 reared against the wall, and a skull placed near it on a bracket 
 Eonald scarcely slept during all that night. His mind Avas alter- 
 nately a pi'ey to the deepest sorrow and wildest longings for \ engeance 
 that the human heart is capable of feeling. 31any -were the plans 
 "vvhich his fertile imagination suggested for the discovery of the 
 matador ; but owing to the totally disorganized state of the country, 
 the subversion of its laws, and the weakness of its civil authorities, 
 he was aware that his attempts would be alike fruitless and unavail- 
 ing, and that the cavalier, Don Alvaro, from the rank of his family, 
 his known bravery, and favour among the populace, would be more 
 likely to have him brought to justice. 
 
 ■ At times, when the outrage which Catalina had suflered came 
 Tividly into his imagination, his blood boiled -within him, and his 
 heart panted with a tiger-like feeling for revenge — deep, deadly, and 
 ample revenge ; and nothing short of the blood of Cifuentes, shed 
 with his own sword, could satisfy the cravings he felt for retribution. 
 The next moment he was all subdued in grief and tenderness, when 
 lie remembered the happy days he had spent v/ith Catalina at 
 Merida, the soft expression of her eyes, the sweet tones of her voice, 
 their rambles among the ruins and rich scenery of the city, its sunny 
 streets and shady pubhc walks, where she was the leading belle, and 
 the glory, delight, and admiration of the cloaked and moustached 
 cavaliers, and the envy of the veiled and stately donnas who 
 frequented the green Prado in the evening, or promenaded under 
 the cool arches of the paseo during the hottest part of the day. 
 While the recollections of these departed moments of transitory 
 enjoyment passed in quick succession through his mind, Ahce Lisle 
 was not forgotten ; but the remembrance of her only added to the 
 tortures of that mental rabk on which Stuart appeared to be 
 stretched. 
 
 Thoughts of the days that were gone — days spent in perfect happi- 
 ness vt'ith her — thoughts that he strove in vain to repel, arose at 
 times, causing his divided heart to swell vsithin his bosom till ii& 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE, 193 
 
 cords seemed about to snap. Love struggled strongly with love in 
 his breast. He unclasped the miniature of Alice, and gazed upon it 
 by the light of the moon. He liad not looked upon it for many, 
 many months, and his eyes filled ^vith tears while he did so now, and 
 recalled the joyous expression of her hazel eye and merry ringing of 
 her girlish laugh; but when he thought of Lord Hyndford. the 
 newspaper paragraph, and the cold conduct of her brother, he closed 
 it with vehemence, and looked upon it no more that night. Even a 
 long wished-for slumber, when it came at last, was disturbed by 
 dreams no less painful than his v»aking thoughts. 
 
 He imagined that he was in the splendid chapel of Santa Cruz, 
 and that Catalina stood beside hmi in all her dignity and beauty- 
 arrayed as he had seen her last in a profusion of white lace ana 
 muslin. She yet hved ! The idea of her death was but a horrible 
 dream. Oh what ecstasy was in that thought ! No black tomb was 
 3'awning in the chancel, bui} ihe -aiales were crowded by a gay party, 
 whose forms appeared wavering, indistinct, and indiscribable. But 
 E/onald recked not of them; Catahna was there, "^vith her eyes 
 sparkhng, her cheek blushing, and her tresses flowing as of old, and 
 orange-buds were entwined with the white roses of her coronal. He 
 embraced her — but lo ! a change came over the features of the 
 Spanish maiden, and they became the softer, but equally beautiful 
 features of Alice Lisle ! A low and heavenly melody stole upon his 
 e^s : he started, and awoke. 
 
 The music he had heard in his sleep was filling every part of the 
 convent, announcing that morning matins had begun. Stuart 
 sprang from the couch, troubled with his visions, and unrefreshed by 
 his slumbers. He hastily donned his regimentals, and entering the 
 chapel, seated himself in that part which was separated from the 
 nuns by a strong but richly gilt u'on railing. He was surveyed with 
 no small interest 'by the sequestered sisterhood, to whom it was 
 an uncommon event to have within their walls a male guest, so 
 different from the bearded and shorn priests who came as privileged 
 individuals. A handsome young soldado, wearing the martial garb 
 of a land which was, in their ideas of geography, at an immense 
 distance, and of which they had strange notions, especially of the 
 ferocity and Avildness of its mountaineers, was an object of thrilling 
 interest to these timid creatures, who trembled at the very mention 
 of the dangers which their military guest had seen and dared. He 
 was very different from Pietro, their deformed gardener, or Ei 
 Pastor, that budget of proverbs, who was their daily visitor ; and 
 many bright and beautiful eyes, though screened by hood of serge 
 and veil of la^vn, were fixed searchingly upon him from the organ- 
 loft and altar-steps; but their presence was unheeded and uncared 
 for by Stuart, whose eyes were bent on the grey slab in the centre of 
 the chancel, while his thoughts were with the cold and coffinless 
 form that lay beneath it, bruised and crushed do^vn in that dark and 
 gloomy hole under a load of earth. It was not until the matins 
 were ended, and the sisters had withdrawn, that he remembered 
 «yhere he was, and that the sooner he prepared to rejoin his regiment 
 and apologize for his singular absence the better. Indeed he had 
 begun to feel some most unpleasant qualms and doubts as to the 
 issue of the matter, with so strict a commanding officer as Cameron of 
 Tassifern — the chief, as he was named by the mess ; and visions of a 
 
 I. 
 
194 THE EOMANCE OF -WAK. 
 
 general court-martial, n, formidable array of charges, and a sentence 
 to be cashiered, " a sentence of \\hich his Majesty is most graciously 
 pleased to approve," arose before him. 
 
 He knew not Avhither the troops might have marched from 
 Almarez ; and he feared that by crossing the Liua hills^ which were 
 many miles distant, he might fall into the hands of the French, who 
 he knew occupied the adjacent country. Por some time he was 
 at a los.'i how to act ; but, after due consideration, was led to believe 
 that he might fall in with some of the British troops at Truxillo, for 
 which place he determined to depart immediately, remomVjering at 
 the same time that he should have to appease the wrath of the 
 Euenos Ayrcan campaigner Don Gonzago, who would undoubtedly 
 be very indignant at his niece's interment without his knowledge ; 
 but, in fact, llonald Stuart had totally forgotten the existence of her 
 uncle, which was the reason of the oversight. As he left the chapel, 
 he was met by the demure and starched old portress, who invited 
 him to breakfast with the lady abbess in an arbour in the garden. 
 It would have been inconsistent with court-esy and gallantry to have 
 refused, and contrary to his own inclination, for in truth he Avas 
 half famished, as he had not ' broken bread ' since the night before 
 the capture of Almarez, and nature demanded nourishment. In the 
 arbours of the garden, which were formed ofi heavy masses of 
 blooming rose-trees, honeysuckle, and vines, supported by green 
 painted trellis-work, the nuns Avere seated at their simple repast, 
 which was no sooner over, than they commenced their daily occu- 
 pation of making pin-cushions, embroidered shirt-collars, tinting 
 fans, and working brocade dresses, all of Avhich were sold for the 
 benefit of the poor, or of the funds of the convent. 
 
 In a large arbour, at the back of AAhich a cool spring of sparkling 
 water bubbled up in a marble basin, the smiling abbess was seated, 
 aAvaiting her guest. The table was covered with a white cloth, 
 wrought over Avith religious emblems, variously coloured, and in 
 elaborate needle-Avork. A Spanish breakfast is usually a very simple 
 one, but the abbess had made an unusual display this morning. 
 There were platters filled Avith grapes and oranges, freshly puUed 
 from the branches that formed the roof of the arbour. A vase of 
 boiled milk, flanked by two silver cups of chocolate — so thick that 
 the spoons stood in it, bread, butter, eggs, jellies, and marmalade, 
 composed the repast; to Avhich was added a flask of the wine of 
 Ciudad Eeal, a place long famous for the quality of its produce. 
 
 The abbess did the honours of the table Avith a grace Avhich showed 
 that, Avhen in the world, she had been accustomed to the best society 
 in Spain. There was a SAveetness in her tones and an elegance in 
 every movement, AA^hich could not have failed to charm one less 
 absorbed in other thoughts than Eonald Stuart. However, he could 
 not help remarking the fine form of her hands, the dazzling 
 whiteness of her arm, and the beauty of her dark broAvn curls, Avhicn 
 she Avore in unusual abundance, and showed rather more than was 
 quite in character AAdth one of her profession. Stuart Avas too full 
 of thought to prove an agreeable companion, and behaved, I dare 
 say, so very Inattentively, that the gay abbess thought him a very 
 dull felloAV, notAA-ithstanding his Highland uniform, and the lively 
 account he gave of his oAvn distant home and what he had seen on 
 service in Spain. 
 
THE E03IANCE OF WAR. 195 
 
 After paying a last visit to tlic tomb ol Catalina, he doparted from 
 the convent. The abbess made a sign of the cross on his forehead, 
 kissed him on both cheeks, gave him her solemn blessing in Latin^ 
 and dismissed him at the back gate of the building, which stood on 
 the Truxillo road. 
 
 As he rode along, mounted again on Campbell's horse, many a 
 glance he gave behind him, not at the figure of the abbess, who 
 •waved her kerchief from the gate, but at the Gothic pinnacles and 
 high stone roof of the chapel, beneath which lay the mortal remains 
 of the once generous and ardent Catalina. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 A SINGLE COMBAT. 
 
 It was a delightful summer morning : there was an exliilarating 
 freshness in the air, which raised the spirits of Stuart, as the 
 distance increased between him and the scene of his sorrows. The 
 merry birds were hopping and chirping about from spray to spray; 
 the wild flowers which blossomed by the wayside were giving forth 
 their richest perfume, and expanding their dewy cups and leaves to 
 the warmth of the rising sun. Behind him lay the dark wood of 
 Jarciejo, and above it arose the curved ridges of the Lina, — their 
 bright tints mellowed by distance as they stretched away towards 
 New Castile, Before him lay a long tract of beautiful country, 
 tufted woods and vineyards, with here and there yellow cornfields, 
 rocks surmounted by old feudal strongholds, most of them ruinous, 
 and in many places by the roadside the blackened remains of the 
 cottages of the paisanos marked the ruthless devastations made by 
 Massena in his retreat some time before. 
 
 Eonald would have contemplated with delight the varying of the 
 landscape as he rode along, but for the sorrow which pressed heavy 
 upon his heart, intermingled vAth certain fears of what his reception 
 might be at the regiment after so unaccountable a desertion, and in 
 what light it might be viev/ed by his brother officers. Full of these 
 exciting ideas, at times he drove his horse furiously forward, as if 
 he strove to leave his thoughts behind him, and shorten as much as 
 possible the distance between himself and his comrades. He longed 
 to behold the embattled towers, the slender spires and belfries" of 
 Truxillo, where he hoped to find his comrades, and explain his 
 singular disappearance ; but Truxillo was yet leagues distant. 
 
 A faint chorus came floating on the breeze towards him as he rode 
 along, and swelled out into a bold and merry strain on his nearer 
 approach. The cracking of whips and jingle of innumerable bells 
 announced a train of muleteer.s, who came in \-iew a few seconds 
 afterwords, and gave a boisterous cheer at sight of the scarlet 
 uniform. According to the custom of the muleteers during hot 
 weather, they all wore large cotton handkerchiefs, knotted roucd 
 their heads, under their sombreros ; their tasselled jackets were 
 flying open, and their broad shirt collars, stiff with flowers and 
 needlework, were folded over their shoulders, displaying every bai'e 
 and brawTiy neck. The train halted, and Jvonald recognized his old 
 
 . o 2 
 
1% THE BOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 acquaintance, Lazaro Gomez, the master muleteer, who took off his 
 ])eaver -vrith one hand, while he reined-in the leading mule with the 
 other. Lazaro's speculations appeared to have been successful. His 
 jacket was now of fine green velvet, covered with tinsel lace and 
 garnished with about six dozen of those brass bell-buttons ^vith 
 which the muleteers are so fond of adorning their garments. 
 
 " Well, -Micer Lazaro," said Stuart, " why do you drive your cattle 
 so fast during the heat of the day, when they should be enjoying a 
 siesta under the greenwood ? They are likely to drop before you 
 reach the forest of Jarciejo." 
 
 " Par Biez ! I hope not, senor," replied the muleteer, in evident 
 'trepidation at the idea. " They shall reach Jarciejo, — we are ruined 
 else ; and I trust, in this perilous time, that the gi'acious senora, our 
 Lady of Majorga," crossing himself and looking Upwards, "will not 
 forget the honest muleteer, that never passed her shrine without 
 besto^\ing on it a handful of maravedis. She will put mettle in the 
 legs of his mules, and enable them to save his hard-earned goods 
 and chattels." 
 
 " How, Micer Gomez, — what is the matter ? You seem much 
 excited." 
 
 " Santissima Casa ! is it possible that you know not the reason, 
 senor ? El demonio ! I thought you had ten thousand British at 
 ■^our back. The whole country round about is in possession of the 
 ^French, and hard work we have had since we left Truxillo to escape 
 being plundered of every maravedi. And only think, senor, what a 
 loss 1 should have suffered ! Wliy there are tJairty skins of the best 
 wine of Ciudad Eeal on the black mule, — Capitana, we call her, — 
 she takes the lead; as many skins of the ohve-oil of Lebrija, the 
 best in Spain, on the pad of the second, — Bocaneyra, or ' the black 
 muzzle,' as we name it." 
 
 " The French — the Prench at Truxillo !" exclaimed Ronald, in 
 astonishment. ""UTiere, then, is Sir Eowland Hill with his 
 troops?" 
 
 " On his march for Merida, senor ; and by this time many a league 
 beyond Yilla ]Macia. On the third mule — Castana, we name her 
 from her colour, there are twenty arrobas of corn from the Huerta 
 of Orihuela, all for the nuns of Santa Cruz, and worth in reals — " 
 
 " Are the enemy in great force hereabouts ?" asked Eonaid, who 
 felt considerably concerned for his own safety. 
 
 " Truly, senor, I know not ; but their light cavalry are riding in 
 every direction. Some say that Marshal Soult, and others that the 
 Count D'Erlon, has entered Estremadura, and that the British are 
 all cut to pieces." 
 
 " That I do not beheve." 
 
 " Nor I ;— no, by the bones of the Cid Campeador, 'tis not likely. 
 But as I was saying, senor, twenty arrobas of corn — " 
 
 " Twenty devils ! Halt, Micer Lazaro : if you stay to tell over the 
 inventory of your goods, you are not likely to escape the claws of 
 the enemy, a party of whom I see on the top of the hill yonder." 
 
 A volley of curses broke from the muleteers at this iutelhgence. 
 A party of cavalry in blue uniform appeared on the road, descending 
 an eminence at some distance, and the ghtter of their weapons, as 
 they flashed in the sun, was seen between the branches of the trees 
 Crack went the whips. 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAll. 197 
 
 " Ave Maria — demonios — par Diez ! we are plundered and 
 rained!" cried the mule-drivers, as they lashed their long-cared 
 cattle into a trot. " The rich oil, the wine and corn — cam jo ! — to 
 ■be pillaged by the base French ! But what is to be done ? Were 
 they under the roof of the Santissima Casa, which the blessed angels 
 brought from Galilee to Loretto, they would not be safe,_ Forward, 
 Capitana ! gallant mule, sure of foot and long of wind, Hoa, 
 Pedro de Puebla ! keep up your black-muzzled sloth ; we will flay 
 its flanks with our whips else. Farewell to you, senor ! Our Lady 
 del Pilar aid us ! we are in a sad pickle." And off they went, 
 without farther ceremony, at their utmost speed, running by the 
 side of their mules, and lashing them lustily, leaving Stuart looking 
 steadily at the advancing party of horse, but dubious what course to 
 pursue. 
 
 He could not stoop to have recourse to a deliberate flight; and 
 as the enemy was between him and his friends, it was necessary to 
 elude them by any means. E-eining back his horse, he withdrew 
 beneath the cover of a thicket beside the road. He was scarcely 
 ensconced among the foliage, when about twenty chasseurs a 
 cheval, with their short carbines resting on their thighs and their 
 officer riding in front, wheeled round a corner of the road, and 
 passed his place of concealment at an easy pace. As soon as they 
 were hidden by the windings of the road and the heavy green 
 foUage which overshadowed it, Stuart emerged from his cover, and 
 continued his route at a hard gallop towards Truxillo, which, 
 however, he determined to avoid by a detour, in case of falhng in 
 ivith mor« of the French. He had not ridden a quarter of a mile, 
 before a sudden angle of the path, which now passed under the cooi 
 shade of several vine-trellisses, brought him abruptly face to face 
 with two French officers, whose horses were trotting along at a very 
 anibhng rate. ^ On seeing him, they instantly drew up, while their 
 faces assumed an expression of unmeasured surprise. They were 
 not above twelve yards distant. E-onald likewise drew his bridle, and 
 unsheathing his sword, reconnoitered the Gauls, between whom a 
 iew^ words passed. One was a pale and thin man, in a staff uniform 
 embroidered with oak-leaves. He carried his right arm in a black 
 silk sling. The other was a dashing officer of cuirassiers, a man of 
 singularly fine and muscular proportions; he was mounted on a 
 nowerful black war-horse, and wore a high brass helmet, with the 
 Imperial eagle on its crest, and a plume of black horse-hair floating 
 over it. He was accoutred with a bright steel cuirass and back- 
 plate, and leather jack-boots which came above the knees. Both 
 wore splendid epaulets and aiguillets, and were covered on the 
 breast with medals and military orders of knighthood,— indeed there 
 were few French officers who were not so. 
 
 Eonald saw at a glance that the heavy dragoon would be his oppo- 
 nent, and he felt some unpleasant doubts as to the issue of a conflict 
 ■with a practised cavalry officer, and one thus sheathed in a panoply 
 of steel and leather, while he himself had nothing to protect him 
 from the blade of his adversary but his thin regimental coat and 
 tartan plaid. 
 
 The officer Avith the wounded arm moved his horse to the road- 
 side, while the cuirassier twirled his moustaches with a grim smile, 
 and unsheathed his glittering weapon— a species of long and straight 
 
198 TJ3E BOMANCE OF W AH, 
 
 back-sword, worn by the French cavalry, and desired Eonald impe- 
 riously to surrender without slrildug a blow. 
 
 " litndez san-s' coup ferir, JMonaitur Ojjic/er." 
 
 Finding that he was not understood, and that Stuart prepared to 
 defend himself, he reined his steed back a little way ; and then dash- 
 ing his spurs into its Hanks, came thundering forward at full speed, 
 shouting'" Vive VJimpereur !" with his long blade uphfted, intending 
 to hurl his adversary into eternity by a single stroke. But Stuart, 
 by an adroit management of his horse's bridle, made a demi-volie or 
 half-turn to his left, at the same time stooping his head, to avoid the 
 Frenchman's sweeping stroke, which v.histled harmlessly through 
 the air ; \\ hile he in return dealt him a back-handed blow on the 
 crest of his helmet as he passed him in his career, which at onco 
 tumbled him over his horse's head and stretched him senseless in the 
 dust, while his sword fell from his grasp, and broke in a dozen pieces. 
 Elated with this sudden and unlooked-for success, Eonald brandished 
 his claymore aloft, and rushed on to the next officer ; but drew back 
 and lowered the point of his weapon, on percei\aug the startled and 
 indignant look of the veteran, vvho held up his wounded arm. 
 
 " Pass on, sir ! " said Eonald, substituting Spanish for French, of 
 which he scarcely knew above a dozen words. " I might, if I chose, 
 make you prisoner ; but I wish not to take advantage of your being 
 wounded. Pass on, sir ; the road is open before you." 
 
 The F'renchman appeared to understand him imperfectly, but 
 raising his cocked hat, he prepared at once to take the benefit of the 
 permission. 
 
 "Adieu, Monsieur de Mesmai!" said he, on passing his fallen, 
 comrade, adding something in a wdiisper, fragments of which only 
 reached Eonald. 
 
 " Mallieurs, mon ami — a la guerre — comme a la guerre — retournez 
 et reprenz-vous — chasseurs a cheval" and he galloped off. Eonald 
 was half tempted to ride after and cut him down, and thus securely 
 stop his intention of returning with the twenty light horsemen, as he 
 supposed he meant to do, for 'the disjointed fragments he had heard 
 implied an understanding between them. 
 
 Ah, la malice du diahle .'" cried the cuirassier, as he endeavoured 
 to rise. 
 
 " Come, Seuor Cuirassier," said Eonald in Spanish ; " I believe I 
 am to consider you a prisoner on parole ?" 
 
 " Biablement .'" muttered the Frenchman, rubbing his sore bones. 
 
 " Come, to horse. Get into your saddle, and without delay. Do 
 not imagine I will parley here long enough to permit your cunning 
 old comrade to bring up the light dragoons to your rescue. 
 
 The Gaul still delayed to move, declaring that so severe were his 
 bruises, he was unable to rise. 
 
 " Jlonsieur," said Eonald sternly, placing his hand in his basket- 
 hilt,'' I believe you not ; 'tis a mere trick ! And if you do not in- 
 stantly mount, I shall be tempted to try if that iron harness of yours 
 is proof against a stab from such a blade as this." 
 
 Thus angrily urged, the cuirassier with a sullen look, and some 
 trouble evidently, mounted his horse, gave his parole of honour, and 
 tos; :ng the flints from his pistols, threw away with a curse his empty 
 scabbard, and prepared to follow his captor, who inquired about hi^ 
 hurts and bruises with a frank kindness, to wliich the other replied 
 
THE aO.AIA2fCE OF WAK. 199 
 
 by cold and haughty monosyllables ; and his displeasure appeared to 
 iucrease, when Eonald, instead of continuing on the Truxillo road, 
 struck at once across the country to make a detour, thus cutting off 
 any chance which the Frenchman had of being rescued by the 
 chasseiu's, should his companion bring them back for that purpose. 
 Stuart was secretly well ])leased at the capture he had made, and 
 doubted not that the Prench capitan '.vould make a very timely 
 peace-offering to Cameron, who would be the reverse of well-pleasea 
 at liis long absence. 
 
 " Cheer up, ^Monsieur de Mesmai — I think your friend named you 
 De Mesmai," said he ; " there is no use in being cast down about this 
 onalheur. Such happen daily to our brothers in arms, on both sides. 
 And it is a wonder our cases are not reversed, when my opponent 
 was so accomplished a chevaher." 
 
 De Mesmai twiiied his black moustaches, shrugged his shoulders 
 till his epaulets toiiched his ears, and made no reply, — but gave an 
 anxious glance behind them. 
 
 " ^Tis no use looking for your friend and his chasseurs : they Avill 
 scarcely find us, since we are so far from the main road. So, I pray 
 you, give yourself no further concern about them," 
 
 To this taunting injunction, the Frenchman answered only by a 
 stern military froA\Ti. He was a man above forty years of age, and 
 his figure was a model of combined strength and symmetry. Expo- 
 sure to the sun had tmrned the hue of his face to something between 
 deep red and dark bro^vn, — the former was particularly apparent in 
 a deep scar across the cheek, which he endeavoured to hide by the 
 cui'l of his moustache. He appeared to vieiv his captor with any 
 feeling but a friendly one ; indeed it was galling, that an accomplished 
 cavalry officer like himself should have been unhorsed and compelled 
 to surrender by one whom he regarded as a raw sokUer, — a mere 
 stripling ; but, as his head had good reason to know, a very stout one ! 
 
 "And so Monsieur de Mesmai is your name?" observed Stuart, 
 endeavouring to lead him into conversation. " Surely, I have heard 
 it before." 
 
 _ " 'Tis not unlikely, monsieur. I am pretty well known on both 
 sides of the PjTcnees ; and permit me to acquaint you, that it was 
 no common feat of yours to unhorse me as you did to-day. But as 
 for my name, it ha^ made a noise in the public journals once or 
 twice. You may have heard it at Almarez, — I commanded in the 
 tower of Eagusa." 
 
 " I now remember ; but it was not very kind of you to cut the pon- 
 toon, and thus destroy the retreat of D'Estouville and his soldiers." 
 
 " Charity begins at home. You know that vulgar adage, — strictly 
 English I believe it is," retorted the cuirassier haughtily. " Saere 
 hleu ! 'tis something new for a French officer to be schooled by a 
 British, in the rules of military honour." 
 
 '■'Nothing new in the least, sir !" retorted the other in the same 
 tone of pique. " Military honour ! What think you of the poisoned 
 balls, which our troops say yours use so freely ?" 
 
 '' Sacre nom de Dicu J" exclaimed the cuirassier, hoarsely, whik 
 his cheek grew absolutely purple ; " 'tis false, monsieur ; I tell you 
 'tis false ! 'Tis a lie of the base mercenary German Legion, or the 
 rascally Portuguese. Surely British soldiers would never say so of 
 Prenclunen ? Think you, monsieur, that we, whose bayonets have 
 
200 THE EOMANCE OF WAS. 
 
 flashed at Austerlitz and Jena,— think you, that we now would have 
 recourse to means so foul ? Sacre 1 to poison our bullets like the 
 cowardly Indians, — and now at tliis time, when under Heaven and 
 the great Emperor's cuidance, the rustle of the banners of France 
 have shaken the Avorld to its centre ? I trow not ! " 
 
 " It has been rumoured by our soldiers, however ; but I rely too 
 much on the honour of Frenclunen, to imagine that they would 
 resort to such dastardly means of maiming an enemy." 
 
 " Monsieur, were we otherwise situated, I would put this matter 
 to the sharper test of cold iron," replied De Mesmai, who Avas much 
 rufUed at the mention of the poisoned balls ; " but a time may yet 
 come, and for the present I accept your apology. As for the story 
 of the poisoned balls, doubtless you are indebted for it to the base 
 Germans— mercenary dogs ! whom their beggarly princes and little 
 mishtinesses sell by thousands to fight the battles of all nations." 
 
 ' In our service we have a legion of several thousands, and they 
 are excellent troops." 
 
 " Monsieur, we have many legions. But the German is without 
 chivalry or sentiment, and fitted only for the mere mechanical part 
 of war. They fight for their daily pay : honour they value not ; to 
 them 'tis as moonshine in the water— an unsubstantial ghtter." 
 
 " You are severe, Captain De Mesmai." 
 
 " I cannot speak of them in more gentle terms, when I remember 
 that all the German prisoners you take from us invariably change 
 banners, and enlist in your service. Several battalions have been 
 raised among the Scotch military prisons of late. And these Germans 
 — Imli ! But to the devil with them ! " 
 
 " By the bye — who was your friend, with his arm in the sling ? An 
 officer of some rank, evidently ?" 
 
 " Truly he is. I am glad you did not take him instead of me. 
 Ah, monsieur, you have outwitted yourself confoundedly. What a 
 prize he would have been to present to your general ! That officer 
 was Monsieur le Comte D'Erlon." 
 
 "D'Erlon!" exclaimed Eonald; "would to Heaven he would 
 return !" 
 
 " With the sabres of twenty chasseurs a cheval ghttering behind 
 him ?" 
 
 " No, certainly. But oh ! had I only guessed his rank and fame, 
 he should not have escaped me. I would either have taken or cut 
 him down in his saddle." 
 
 " That would have been a pity, for he is a famous old fellow ; but 
 it would have left the comtesse a ^ridow, mth I know not how many 
 thousand livres in the year. I know she looks with favourable eyes 
 on me,— but, sacre lieu ! 'tis all in vain. I don't like ladies that are 
 verging towards forty years,^' 
 
 '^ You seem to have recovered ;^our equanimity of temper now." 
 
 ' Oh, perfectly ; but my head rings like a belfry, vnih. that cut you 
 gave me." 
 
 "So that old officer, with his ann slung, was really the famous 
 D'Erlon, of whom we have heard so much ?" 
 
 The gallant old count himself. He received a stroke from a spent 
 pistol-ball a day or two past, which disabled his sword-arm ; other- 
 wise you would have had an encounter mth him also." 
 
 "I shall ever curse my thoughtlessness in having permitted him 
 to escape." 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 201 
 
 " The cuirassier laughed exultingly. 
 
 " I am — dialle ! I teas his aide-de camp ; and we had merely 
 crosssed the Tagus last night with a sub-division of chasseurs, to 
 make a rcconnoissance ; and we were returning leisurely in the rear 
 of our party, when you so unluckily fell in with us, like some wan- 
 dering knight-errant." 
 
 " Excuse me, monsieur ; but as I perceive that your sabre-tache is 
 very full of something, if you have any of the Count D'Erlon's des- 
 patches or papers, I must consider it my duty to request that you 
 ■will entrust them to my care." 
 
 " Excellent, by the bomb ! That you may present them to your 
 general?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly, monsieur." 
 
 " 1 believe he is every inch a true soldier ; and were he here, would 
 be welcome to share the contents of my sabre-tache ; but as he is 
 not, we will divide them honestly at the kettle-drum head. Here, 
 you see, is a roast fowl, famously stuffed with sage and garhc, which 
 yesterday afternoon I carried oft' from the dinner-table of a fat canon 
 of Torbi'scoso, when just about to carve, and very much aghast the 
 padre looked when I seized it unceremoniously. Here also is a bottle 
 of pojnard, — rare stuS", as you will find. I took it out of D'Erlon's 
 holsters not above four hours ago. He always keeps a bottle in one, 
 and a pistol in the other. A knowing old campaigner, ventre 
 St. Gris I And now, since you have reminded me of the sabre-tache, 
 let us to luncheon." 
 
 The pomard and the fowl were shared together ; and had any 
 stranger beheld them as they jogged along, he would never have ima- 
 gined that they had been engaged in mortal strife an hour before. 
 
 " Ah, this horrible garlic ; the taste of it would madden a Parisian 
 chef de cuisine," observed De Mesmai. " I drink to the health of 
 senor, the reverend canon of Torbiscoso, who has provided for us 
 this especial good luncheon. Come, my friend, you do not drink ; 
 you are as melancholy as if you had lost your love, while I am as 
 merry as if I had just buried my wife. But why should I be cast 
 do\Mi in spirits ? The old count cannot do without me, and will 
 soon get me exchanged : he might as well lose his head as Maurice 
 de Mesmai. I save him a world of trouble by drinking his wine, 
 smoking his cigars, making up his despatches, in which I take espe- 
 cial care that my name is always duly commended to the notice of 
 the Emperor. I study the locahties for camps, and always make 
 them in the neighbourhood of convents. A-propos of convents : I 
 love better to capture and sack them than anything else. 'Tis such 
 delightful hide-and-seek sort of work, to pull the fair garrison from 
 the nooks and niches where they hide from us. I have had a score 
 of nuns across this very saddle-bow ; and, but for your cursed inter- 
 ruption, — excuse me, monsieur, — would by this time have had the 
 abbess of the Jarciejo convent. An immensely fine creature, upon 
 my honour, with a neck and bust beautiful enough to turn the heads 
 of messieurs their eminences the cardinals. A glorious creature, in 
 fact, and as kind a one as may be met with on a long day's march. I 
 had marked her for a prize, and D'Erlon had never dared to say me 
 nay ; otherwise he would have had to provide himself with another 
 aide." 
 
 De Mesmai seemed to have recovered that buoyancy of temper so 
 natural to Frenchmen, and he chatted on in this gay and unconnected 
 
202 THE EOiLVNCE OF WAI:. 
 
 manner, and snng snatches of military and tavern songs until they 
 arrived, when evening was apijroaching, at Villa !Macia, where it was 
 necessary that they sliould halt for the night. Here they received 
 information that Sir Rowland Hill, with the troops returning from 
 Almarez, had passed through two days before. In so .small a village 
 there was no alcalde to order them a billet, and no inn at which they 
 could procure one otherwise ; and while standing in the street, irre- 
 solute how to act, they were surrounded by a crowd of swarthy vil- 
 lagers, who greeted Eonald with many a hearty viva ! but regarded 
 the disarmed Frenchman with louring looks of hatred and hostility, 
 to which he replied bv others of defiance and contempt. J£l cura, 
 the rector or curate of the place, a reverend-looking old churchman, 
 with a bald head, a few grey hairs, and a ^ATinkled visage, approacliecl 
 tliem \dth his shovel-hat in his hand, and invited them to ])artake of 
 the shelter afforded by iiis humble roof, to which the Gaul and the 
 Eriton were alike welcome. The horses were accommodated in an 
 out-house behind the cottage, while the curate introduced his guests 
 into his best apartment, — a room floored mth tiles, which had just 
 been cooled by the application of a water-sprinkler. !Nets of onions, 
 oranges, and innumerable bunches of grapes hung from the rude 
 rafters of the roof, waving in the fresh evening breeze which blew 
 through the open mndow. Drawings of various kinds, particularly 
 landscapes, adorned the walls of the room, in which, if poverty was 
 everywhere apparent, there was an extreme air of neatness and clean- 
 liness, not often to be met rath in houses of such a class in Spain. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 THE CUEATE'S stout. 
 
 " Te Deum laudamus ! we shall have a rest at last !" exclaimed 
 De Mesm.ai. " I thought I had forgotten my Latin ; and yet my old 
 rogue of a tutor rubbed it hard into me "\nth a tough rod." He 
 clattered through the room Anth his heavy jack-boots and jangUng 
 spurs clanking on the floor ; and seating himself in the curate's easy- 
 chair, stretched out his legs, and half closing his eyes, contemptuoiisly 
 surveyed the place. He threw his heavy casque on the table, crushing 
 the leaves of a large Bible, which el cura had been reading. 
 
 "Diable ! my head is ringing like a kettle-drum with the violence 
 of that unlucky stroke. Monsieur, the basket-hilts of your Scottish 
 regiments are confoundedly heavy, and their fluted blades give most 
 uncomfortable thrusts " said De Mesmai, passing his hand over his 
 round bullet head and thick and black curly hair, which clustered 
 around a bold liigh forehead. His features were very handsome, 
 strongly marked, and classically regular. Campaigns in Italy had 
 bronzed and scarred them in no ordinary degree, and there was a bold 
 recklessness in his eye and a ticrceness in the curl of his niQustaches, 
 which seemed quite to appal the poor old curate, notwithstanding 
 the presence of Ronald Stuart. " Fiva le joie ! let us drink and be 
 merry. I am a prisoner of war — sacre J a prisoner ! 'Tis something 
 new ; but thanks to D'Erlon, and madame his dear little countess, 
 who AviU never be able to mount horse without me, I v.iil not be loii^ 
 
THE EOMANCE DF WAE. 20$ 
 
 BO. Vive la joie, Monsieur le Cure — Senor Cura — or what do you 
 style yourself among the rebels of Joseph Buonaparte — what aro we 
 to have for supper ?" 
 
 " Gaspacho — only a dish of gaspaclio ; 'tis ail I have to offer you, 
 gracios senores." 
 
 " Souxie maigre, by the Lord! Bah! senor Espagnol; 'tis food 
 only fur hogs or yourselves, not for a cuirassier of Prance." 
 
 " 'Tis all that I'rance and misfortune enable me to offer. They 
 have brought me low enough," replied the curate meekly, while he 
 appeared astounded by the boisterous behaviour of the dragoon, for 
 whom Ronald (though secretly angry at his conduct) endeavoured to 
 apologize, and to re-assure their kind host. " But sometliing else 
 may be added to the gaspacho, senores, and you will find the latter 
 very good; my grand-daughter is the best preparer of it iu the 
 village." 
 
 " Diahle ! your grand-daughter? what a merry monk you have 
 been in your young days. But how came you, senor cure, to have a 
 family?" 
 
 " I was married before I took upon me the scapulary and girdle — 
 the badges of my holy order," replied the other, while the coloiu' 
 came and went in his faded cheek, and he regarded the Frenchmau 
 with, a fixed look of indignation, which was replied to by a con- 
 temptuous laugh. 
 
 " A jolly monk ! Vive la joie ! And is your grand-daughter 
 young and pretty ? I hope so, as I feel ennui creeping over me in 
 this dull dungeon. But be not angry, reverend cure. Let us have 
 but a measure of decent wine to wash down this same gaspacho, 
 and we shall manage pretty well." 
 
 " If monsieur knew that I was his countryman," said the curate 
 gently, " he might perhaps treat my grey hairs less insultingly." 
 
 " Not a whit, monsieur renegade ! " cried the cuirassier fiercely. 
 " What ! you are some base emigrant, I suppose. They are ever 
 the bitterest enemies to the great Napoleon, to his faithful soldiers, 
 and to la belle France." 
 
 " 'Tis false, rude soldier ! " said the old man, his faded eye kindling 
 up. " We are the only true friends to beautiful France, and the 
 outraged house of Bourbon." 
 
 " Beelzebub strangle the Bourbons ! Get us our supper, and call a 
 halt to your chattering. Also, take care how you give me the lie, 
 old gentleman, or I swear I will dash — " 
 
 " Hold ! Be Mesmai," said Stuart, interfering now for the second 
 or third time. " I, as a British officer, cannot permit you to persist 
 in insulting a Spanish citizen thus — " 
 
 " A dog of an emigrant ! I have mown them down by troops — 
 never yet granted quarter, even to their most pitiable entreaties. 
 Death ! was the word wherever we have fallen in with them — iu 
 HoUand, Flanders, Spain, Portugal, and Italy. When I served with 
 the army of the Moselle, we once formed a thousand emigrant 
 prisoners into solid squares, and poured in volleys of grape and 
 musketry upon them ; while the cavalry charged them by squadrons, 
 sword in hand, to finish by hoof and blade what the fire of the 
 platoons had left undone." 
 
 The curate clasped his hands and turned up his eyes, but made no 
 reply. 
 
304 THE EOMAJfCE OF VTAR. 
 
 " You have little cause to boast of that exploit," said Ronald , 
 " but, Monsieur de Mesmai, -sve have been very good friencis on the 
 ■way hither, yet we are likely to quarrel, if you abuse our kind host 
 thus." At that moment the curate's grand-daughter entered, and 
 stole close to his side. The two ofHcers rose at once, each to offer 
 her a seat^ and she took Stuart's, bowing coldly to l3e Mesmai, who, 
 seating himself in what he thought a line position, muttered, "A 
 dazzling creature, really. Upon my honour, beats Mariette of the 
 Rue Neuve des Petits Champs quite, and will make amends for 
 the loss of the abbess." He raised his glass to his eye, and scanned 
 the poor girl with so intent a look, that her face became suffused 
 with blushes. She was indeed a very beautiful creature. She was 
 about twenty years of age ; her eyes had a blackness and brightness 
 in them truly continental. Her teeth were perfectly regular, and 
 of the purest white, and the fine proportions of her figure were 
 displayed to the utmost advantage by a tight black velvet bodice, 
 ■mth short sleeves, adorned with frills of lace at the elbow, below 
 which her white arm was bare. Her luxuriant black hair was 
 plaited in two gigantic tails or braids, which hung down to the red 
 Hounce attached to her bro-svn bunchy petticoat, which was short 
 enough to display a well-turned foot and ancle. 
 
 During supper innumerable were the fine things and com- 
 plimentary speeches which the cuirassier addressed to the Senora 
 Maria, to all of which she listened with a calm smile, and made such 
 careless yet appropriate replies, as showed that she knew their true 
 value, and which sometimes confounded the Frenchman, who 
 thought to A\-in her favour thus ; while he altogether lost the curate's 
 by his insolent remarks and sneers at their humble repas1>— the 
 gaspacho, a mess made of toasted bread, water, a sprinkling of 
 viuegar, spices, salt, and oil, to which, as a second course, to 
 De Mesmai's great delight, was added a dish of stewed meat. After 
 supper the curate rose, and laying aside his skull-cap, delivered a 
 long prayer, which De Mesmai pronounced to be confoundedly 
 tedious, and for which he showed his contempt by humming " The 
 Austrian Retreat," and drumming on the table with his fingers. 
 
 A few stoups of the common provincial wine were now produced, 
 and while discussing these, the curate engaged Stuart in a long con- 
 versation about Scotland, in the affairs of which he appeared to be 
 much interested, like a true French priest of the old school. His 
 father, he said, had served in Fitz- James's horse, under the illustrious 
 Prince Charles Stuart, in the campaigns of 1745-6. He spoke also 
 of the famous Scottish wizard, Sir Michael Scott, of Balwearie, 
 Escotillo, as the Spaniards name him. Ronald knew little more 
 about this ancient Scottish philosopher than what he had acquired 
 from the " Lay of the Last Minstrel," published a few years before, 
 and was not very well able to answer the interrogations of the 
 curate, who produced from his little book-case a musty old copy of 
 Sir Michael's " Commentary on Aristotle," published at Venice, 
 A.D. 1496, a prize which would have thrown the Society of Scottish 
 Antiquarians into ecstasies of dehght, could they have laid their 
 hands upon it. The curate informed Ronald that there was a 
 countryman of his, a Padre Macdonald, who resided in the town of 
 Alba de Tormes, and who had formerly been a priest in the Scots 
 College of Douay, — ^when a scream from Senora Maria interrupted 
 Mm. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 20f 
 
 "While Eonald and his host were conversing, the young lady had 
 been explaining the subject of some of her drawings to the dragoon, 
 who bestowed upon them all, indiscriminately, such vehement praise, 
 that the poor girl was sometimes quite abashed, and considered him 
 a perfect connoisseur, though in truth he knew not a line he saw. 
 JBut he seemed quite enchanted with the young provincial, his com- 
 panion. " Vive Vamour ! ona belle Marie" he whispered ; a.nd 
 Ihromng his arm around her, kissed her on the cheek. Her eyes 
 filled with fire, she screamed aloud, and breaking away from him, 
 drew close to the side of the curate. 
 
 " How, monsieur ! how can you be so very rude ?" exclaimed the 
 old man, rising in ^vrath. " Do you dare to treat her as if she v/as 
 some fiUe de joie of the Boulevards or night-promenades of the 
 iniquitous city of Paris?" 
 
 " By the bomb ! I believe the old gentleman is getting quite into 
 a passion," replied the other, coolly twn^ling his moustache. " Marie, 
 ma princesse, surely you are not so ? The women are all devilish 
 fond of me. When I ride in uniform through the streets of Paris, 
 the sweet grisettes flock to the doors in hundreds. Marie, or 
 Maria—" 
 
 "Insolent!" exclaimed the curate. "By one v.'ord I could 
 avenge her, and overwhelm you with confusion and dismay." 
 
 '•' Peste I" cried the astonished cuirassier, into whose head the wine 
 he had taken was rapidly mounting ; " that would^ indeed be 
 something new. Overwhelm me vath confusion ? me, Tdonsieur de 
 Mesmai by the Emperor's grace and my own deserts captain of 
 No. 4 troop of the 10th cuirassiers? Diable! that would be 
 something rare, and rarities are agreeable. Maria, ma belle coquette, 
 come to me and say that you are not angry. Meanwhile, 3Ionsieur 
 le Cure, I should be glad to hear that terrible word." 
 
 He advanced again towards Maria ; but Ronald, who was no-^7 
 seriously angry, interposed between him and the terrified girl. 
 
 " Shame ! shame on you, Captain de Mesmai !" said he. " This 
 conduct shows me how outrageously you soldiers of Buonaparte 
 must behave on all occasions towards the Spaniards, and that the 
 excesses recorded of Massena's troops were not exaggerated in the 
 London newspapers." 
 
 " Massena is a fine fellow, and a soldier every inch," answered the 
 other tartly ! " but let us not come to blows about a smatchet like 
 this — especially as you, monsieur, have the advantage of me. You 
 are armed and free; I am weaponless and a prisoner on parole. 
 But, Monsieur Stuart, I meant no harm. In a soldier-like way, I 
 love to press my moustaches against a soft cheek. No harm was 
 intended, and ma belle Marie well knows that." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur Maurice — " began the curate. 
 
 " Ha ! Maurice ? " interrupted the cuirassier sharply. " How 
 came you, old gentleman, to know my name so well ? " 
 
 "Insolent and libertine soldier !"' replied the curate sternly, "I 
 know not if I should toll you. I would, — I say again I can 
 confound and dismay you as you deserve to be." 
 
 " A rare blockhead this ! rare, as one would meet in a march of 
 ten leagues. Do so; in the devil's name, Sir Curate; but as for 
 Maria—" 
 
 " Name her not, base roue ! She is— she is—" 
 
20G THE ROMANCE OF WAIf. 
 
 " Teie-clieu ! '.vlio is she, most polite monsieur ? A princess in 
 disguise?" 
 
 " Your daughter, — your owti child ! Maurice de Mesmai of 
 Quinsay," replied the old priest with solemn energy; while the 
 dark features of the cuirassier became jmrple and then deadly pale, 
 and his eyes wandered from the faces of itonald and Maria to the 
 calm features of the curate, whose arm he grasped, as, with em- 
 phatic sternness and in a tone something very like consternation, he 
 answered, — 
 
 " j\Iy daughter ? Impossible ! What have you dared to tell me, 
 old man ?" 
 
 " Truth, truth ! as I shall answer to Heaven, when all men shall 
 stand at the tribunal to be judged on the great day which is to come. 
 I tell you truth, — she is your daughter/' 
 
 "Her mother ?"_ asked the dragoon, bending forward his dark 
 eyes, as if he would look searchingly into the very soul of the curate. 
 " Her^mother— " 
 
 " "Was Justine Kosat, — the lily of Besangon." 
 
 "Poor Justine!" exclaimed the other, covering his face for a 
 moment with his hand, " And, Monsieur le Cure, you are — " 
 
 " Francois Eosat, her father, and g^andsire of this poor orphan." 
 
 " "V\Tiat ! the gardener at my jovial old chateau of Quinsay, on 
 the banks of the Doubs ? Impossible ! he was destroyed when I 
 blcAv up the hall, with all the base republican mechanics who 
 filled it." 
 
 " jMonsieur, I am he," replied the irar;;'.^. 
 
 Maria, with her hands crossed on her bosom, knelt at the feet of 
 De Mesmai weeping bitterly, and imploring him, if he was really her 
 father, to speak to her, to look upon her. But the devil-may-care 
 spirit of the true Parisian rorie and libertine was not at all subdued : 
 he turned from her to Eonald, who had been listening in silence 
 and wonder, 
 
 " Ah ! IMonsieur Stuart," said he with a laugh, " I have been a 
 sad fellow when a subaltern, Tete-dieu ! what would old D'Erlon 
 and his countess think of this ! " 
 
 " Tsoble senor," said the kneeling girl, in a soft plaintive voice, 
 " ah, if you are indeed my father, speak to me ;" and she pressed his 
 hand between her own. " Pather, hear me ! " 
 
 " Father ! ma heUe. Yery good, but something new when ad- 
 dressed to me, and sounds odd. How D'Erlon and his plumed and 
 aigulettcd staff would laugh at this ! Maurice de Mesmai of the 
 10th. cuirassiers, — the most dashing aide-de-camp in the Imperial 
 service, to be father of a little Spanish paisana. By the bomb ! you 
 do me infinite honour. What a very odd adventure ! And so, 
 monsieur, my old rebellious gardener escaped the explosion at 
 Quinsay ? Excellently planned affair that was ! Hand me wine : 
 tnank you. Really, 'pon honour, this repectable title of father has 
 in it something very overpowering." 
 
 He quaffed a long horn of the wine, which had already begun to 
 cloud his faculties, and he endeavoured by talking in his usually 
 careless manner to hide the confusion that he evidently felt. Maria, 
 who had slirunk from his side, wept bitterly, and covered her face 
 viith her hands, 
 
 " Diable!" said the cuirassier, mrnins: round, " "lis horrible 
 
THE K5AIA^'CE OF Yv'AIU 207 
 
 ^vine lliis. Ah ! for a single glass of Hermitage, Cliaieau Margot- 
 V'in Ordinaire, ^''olnay, or glorious Champagne, such as old Marcel 
 retails at the Eagle on the Quai d'Orsai, opposite to the Pont Eoyal, 
 in our good and glorious Paris. But what is the girl weeping 
 about ? You should rather laugh, having just found your father, 
 and found him as handsome a fellow as ever stood in jack-boots. All 
 "^he girls are in love with me— 'pon honour they are. Some of the 
 fairest creatures at the court of the Empress are dying for me ; and 
 I mean to act the part of a hard-hearted dragoon, and let them die 
 if they ^vill. I swear to you, Maria, by a thousand caissons of devils, 
 that as you appear just now, vaih. your lashes cast do^vn, and your 
 face covered with tears and blushes, like the western sky in a shower, 
 you are pretty enough to turn the brain of monsieur the Pope, to 
 whom I drinic that he may have a long and joyful life. But I^must 
 retire. My head is buzzing anew vnia that sword-stroke. Diahle ! 
 my gay helmet, what a dinge you have got. But, messieurs, we will 
 talk over these matters in the morning, when, I suppose, we shall leap 
 to saddle without blast of trumpet. Adieu !_ mademoiselle, my 
 daughter; pleasant dreams to you. Vive la joie — tetedieul" He 
 took up his hea\y military cloak and staggered out of the room, 
 ■withdrawing to the humble attic set apart lor himself and Eonald. 
 A long pause ensued. 
 
 " There, he has gone -with the same swagger as of old— the polished 
 gentleman, the accomplished and gallant soldier, combined with the 
 blustering tavern-brawler and the libertinism of the perfect rov.e. 
 He is all unchanged, although twenty years have passed into 
 eternity since I beheld him last," said the curate, in a mournful 
 accent ; "and yet, when I remember what lie was, I cannot — no, 
 I cannot implore a curse upon him. I carried him in my arms 
 when he was an infant, and he is the father of this poor weeping 
 girl. Alas ! from the day that as a stripling soldier he first buckled 
 on a sword-belt, time has -wrought no change upon him. He is 
 the same daring and gallant, but reckless and hollow-hearted man 
 as ever." 
 
 " Senor Cura,to me this has been a most incomprehensible scene," 
 said Stuart ; " so much so, that I trust you "will not consider me 
 impertinent or inquisitive in wishing for an explanation." 
 
 "Quite the reverse, — an explanation is, indeed, necessary. But 
 retire, ]\Iaria, my poor cast-away ; I will speak to you of this after- 
 wards. Be seated, monsieur, and draw the wine-jug towards you." 
 
 He led Maria from the room ; and on returning, seated himself at 
 the table, and commenced in the following words : — 
 
 " Monsieur officier, I am, as you already know, a Prenchman, a 
 native of the fertile district of Besangon. I succeeded my father in 
 the humble occupation of gardener to the family of this Monsieur 
 Maurice de Mesmai, at the castle of Quinsay, a noble chateau, built 
 on the banks of the Doubs, which flows through Besanpon. The 
 chateau is of venerable antiquity, and it is said to have been granted 
 to an ancestor of De Mesmai's by Charles Martel ! Ah, monsieur. 
 when I had only my flower-beds and %dneries to attend to, no man 
 was happier than I — Pranf;ois Rosat. With my flowers, my wife and 
 daughter were my sole delights ; and when I returned in the evening, 
 after working during the hot dusty days in the garden of the chateau, 
 what pleasure was raine to be met by my smiling Suzette, with the 
 
208 THE EOMAXCE OF WAR. 
 
 little laughing Justine in arms, stretcliinc out ber hands and crowing 
 ■vrith delight at the bouquet of violets and roses I always brought her 
 from my choicest beds. And merrily we used to spend our evenings, 
 for Suzette sung while I played second on the flute, and we taught 
 little Justine to dance as soon as she could walk. My life was all 
 humble happiness then, monsieur ; but it was not destined to con- 
 tinue long so. Justine was just sixteen when my wife died ; and our 
 old lord dying soon after, tms sad roue, Monsieur Maurice, came to 
 take possession of the chateau, and terrify the poor peasantry by the 
 wickedness he had learned in Paris and the garrison towns where 
 he had been stationed : he belonged to the di-agoons of Monsieur 
 le Due de Choiseul. This dissipated Maurice, arrayed in all the 
 extreme of Parisian dandyism, the first Sunday we saw him in church, 
 formed a strong contrast to our venerable old lord his father, who 
 used to occupy the same pew, so devoutly dresse-l in his old-fashioned 
 way of Louis the Fifteenth's days, — ^liis deep waistcoat, silk coat, Anth 
 its collar covered with poAvder, and his ruffles and frills starched as 
 stiff as pasteboard; and Ave soon discovered that if there was a 
 difference in their appearance, there Avas an equal difference in theu* 
 hearts and sentiments. 
 
 " My httle Justine had now become a Avoman, and a very beautiful 
 one — more especially so for the daughter of a peasant. She Avas the 
 belle of the rural district, and the people named her the lily of 
 Eesancon. Ah, monsieur ! although the child of a low-born man, a 
 vassal, she was surprisingly beautiful ; too much so to be happy, as 
 my friend Pierre Eaoul told me more than once. Her figure Avas not 
 the less handsome or graceful, because, instead of satin or brocade, 
 she Avore our homely broAvn stuff's ; and her long black curls, floAving 
 in freedom, seemed a thousand times more beautiful than the locks 
 of high-born ladies, powdered and pasted into puffs and boAvs by the 
 hands of a fashionable barber. 
 
 '• Monsieur, I perceive that you almost comprehend my story, ere 
 it is told. My daughter was charming, and our lord was a libertine. 
 In that sentence are the causes of all my Avoes. I Avas kept in a con- 
 stant state of anxiety lest the debauchee, our young lord, or some 
 accomphshed rascal of his acquaintance, might rob me of my treasure 
 — for such she was to me ; and Avhat I had dreaded came to pass at last. 
 I had observed that the manners of Justine were changed. She 
 shunned the villagers, and often went out alone ; she seldom laughed, 
 and never sang as she used to do ; but was ever moody and melan- 
 choly, and often I foand her weepmg in soHtary places. 
 
 " Never shall I forget the evening when the dreadful truth broke 
 upon me, with all its maddening anguish ; when I was told that my 
 daughter was lost,— that the bloom of the hly was blighted. I Avas 
 no longer PranQois Eosat, — no longer *h3 same man apparently ; a 
 cloud of horror seemed to have enveloped me ; for although but a 
 poor peasant of BesauQon, I held my honour as dear to me as 
 Louis XVI. could have held his. One evening I returned to my 
 cottage, bearing Avith me a basket of choice floAvers for the decoration 
 of Justine, who had been elected queen of a fete which was to be 
 given by the villagers and tenantry of Quinsay on the morrow, I 
 returned to my home, monsieur, — a house which was to be no longer 
 a home for me. Justine Avas not aAvaiting me, as usual, under the 
 porch, where I had trained up the honeysuckle and woodbine, — nor 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 209 
 
 was she in our sitting-room ; but she could not be far off, I imagined, 
 as her guitar and work-basket lay on the table. I know not how it 
 was, iiut I noted these little matters anxiously, and I felt my heart 
 beat quicker, as if in dread of coming evil. 
 
 " 'Justine !' said I, lajing down my basket, ' come hither. You 
 lever saw such flowers as these for freshness and beauty, and I have 
 been employed the whole day in culling them for you. Here are 
 anemonies, crimson and lilac, and blue and white pinks, carnations, 
 gillyflowers, auriculas \^ith eyes of scarlet edged with green, violets 
 as large as hhes, and tulips and roses such as were never before seen 
 in Besan(^on. Justine! come here, girl. Why, where are you?' 
 But no Justine answered my call. Her little room, the room in 
 Avhich her mother died, was deserted, and my heart swelled in my 
 breast with an inward presentiment of evil, as I went forth to seek 
 her by the river side. Here I met the steward of Quinsay, Pierre 
 Eaoul, a surly fellow, whose addresses she had rejected. He informed 
 me, with what I thought a grin of triiunph and malice, that my 
 daughter, with Monsieur Maurice, had just swept through Besangon 
 m a travelhug-carriage, and were off for Paris as fast as four horses 
 could take them. As he spoke, the earth swam around me, and I saw 
 his lips moving, although I heard not his conclusion ; there was a 
 hissing sensation in my ears, — the cords of my heart felt as if riven 
 asunder, and I sunk on the turf at the feet of Pierre. 
 
 " When I returned to consciousness, he was bathing my brow and 
 hands in the cool water of the river ; but he soon left me, — and oh ! 
 monsieur, what a sense of lonehness and desolation came upon me. 
 That my daughter should desert me thus heartlessly, — that the little 
 creature I had cherished in my bosom should turn upon me and 
 sting me thus ! I raved like a madman, and tore the hair from my 
 head and the grass from the earth in handfuls. When this fit passed 
 away, all was silence and stillness around me : the moon was shining 
 brightly in the sky, and silvered the boughs of the trees my OAvn. 
 hands had trained, and the petals and buds of the flowers that it had 
 been my dehght to attend ; but they were unheeded now, and 1 
 turned to where appeared, in the strong hght and shadow, the old 
 chateau de Quinsay, with its battlemented towers and elevated tur- 
 rets. I prayed deeply for my erring Justine, and implored Heaven 
 and the spirit of her mother to sustain me under so heavj^ a dispen- 
 sation. I would rather have seen the child of Suzette laid dead by 
 her side, than the dishonoured mistress of Maurice de Mesmai. But 
 my prayers were impious, as I mingled them Avith the bitterest 
 maledictions upon her accomplished seducer. At the chateau the 
 servants, some with piiy, some with the mahce felt by little minds, 
 corroborated the blasting information given me by Pierre Eaoul, 
 and that very night I set out for Paris in pursuit of my lost sheep. 
 I set out on foot on my sorrowful pilgrimage, almost heart-broken, 
 and -without a sous to defray my expenses by the way. How 1 
 reached the capital — a distance of two hundred and thirty -five miles 
 from Besanqon — I know not. But He who fed the children of Israel 
 in the desert surely assisted me by the way. How great was my 
 misery, Avhen begging as a miserable mendicant, exposed to the in- 
 sults of the f/ens d'armes, I wandered about the ■wide wilderness of 
 Paris, with the vague and eager hope of recovering Justine ! Once 
 — yes, once — I got a sight of her ; only a single glance, but one I 
 shall never forget. In a dashing carriage, the panels of which Hashed 
 
 I. p 
 
210 Tnr KOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 in tho sun with gildinp; and armorial bearings, she was seated by the 
 ride of De Mesmaij tricked out in all the gaudy and wanton linery 
 that wealth and pride could bestow upon her. IJut she looked paler, 
 less happy than slio wa.s wont to be, and the roses bad faded from her 
 cheek, and the lustre from her once sunny eye. They swept jiast me 
 on tbe JBoulevards, where I Avas seeldng alms as was my wont, and 
 Justine, man Dieu ! my own fallen but kind-hearted daughter, tlirew 
 a demi-franc into my tattered hat, without looking upon my face. 
 J attempted to cry out ; but what I would have said expired on my 
 Ups. ]\ly tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, and when I reco- 
 vered, they were gone ! I never beheld them again. 
 
 " I was starving at that moment, monsieur ; food had not passed 
 my Ups for three days, and I looked mstfully, until my eyes became 
 blinded with tears, upon the httle coin I had received from Justine. 
 A sudden thought struck me. I spat upon it, and tossed it from me 
 as a coin of hell, as the wages of her infamy. Twelve months, — 
 long and weary months of WTetchedness and sorrow, I wandered 
 about the streets of Paris, a woe-begone mendicant, until all hope of 
 seeing her again was extinguished, and I returned to Besanc^on more 
 heart-broken, if possible, than when I had left it. My cottage had 
 fallen into tuin ; but honest Pierre Eaoul restored me again to the 
 occupation of gardener, and repaired my old residence for me. Our 
 lord had been absent, no one knew where, ever since he had carried 
 off Justine, and I began to have some faint hope that he might have 
 married her. 
 
 " These thoughts stole at length like sunshine into my desolate 
 heart : and I thought so much of the chances and probabilities, that 
 at last it appeared to me to be beyond a doubt that Justine was the 
 wife of Pe Mesmai. I plucked up fresh courage, and attended from 
 dawn to sunset my loaded orchards and blooming flower-beds as of • 
 old. The garden was agabi my delight and glory, and not even does 
 the great Napoleon survey his troops with more delight, than I did 
 my beds of tulips and anemonies :_ I had brought to perfection the 
 art of cultivation, and ^vhere can it be practised with more success 
 than under the climate of my own beautiful Prance ? In the garden 
 of the chateau, the aloe of Africa, the pine of Scotland, the oak of 
 England, the cypress of Caudia, the laurels of Greece and Portugal, 
 the rose-tree of Persia, the palms of India, the figs of Egjipt— all 
 blooming together, and at once. 
 
 " In my apj^hcatiou to my old business, the manifold miseries I 
 had endured in Po.ris were forgotten, or at least subdued in my 
 remembrance. I pictured bright images of monsieur's returning, 
 '.vith my beautiful Justine to be mistress of his chateau. But these 
 were doomed soon to end. One evening I sat on the turf-seat at my 
 door, employed as usual building castles in the air, while I made up 
 and dried packages of seed which were never to be sown by me. It 
 was a beautiful summer evening, and all the fertile landscape seemed 
 bright and joj-ous in the light of the setting sun. Clear as a mirror, 
 the river murmured at my feet, sweeping past the old chateau on its 
 opposite bank, where, above trees a hundred years old, the slated 
 roofs of its turrets and gilded \^nes were shining in the sun. Afar 
 off, between openings in the trees of the lawn, could be seen the forti- 
 fications of the citadel and city of Besan(^on, Avitli its round towers 
 and the tall spires of its colleges and churches reared against the 
 
THE ROMANCE OF V/AS. 21l 
 
 cloudless sky. I desisted from my employment and took oil' ray hat. 
 for the sound of the evening service came llouting on the wina 
 towards me from the ricli abbey of the order of Citeaux. 
 
 '•' We Trench are enthusiastic creatures, monsieur ; and I was 
 filled with delight and ecstasy at the beauty of the evening and the 
 scenery of my native place, where the deep blue river wound among 
 fertile hills^ vineyards^ and green woods, between happy little ham- 
 lets clustering round ivy-clad churches and the stately chateaux of 
 the old nobility of France, — a nobility, monsieur, in those days not 
 less proud and haughty than those of your ov/n northern country. 
 
 " ' Yes,' said I aloud, giving utterance to my thouj-ilits, ' the hand 
 of fate has been in all this. Justine will certainly be the lady of 
 Quinsay, and poor old Francois E-osat will get a corner in some part 
 of that liuge old chateau to rest in. Let me see, now : the octagon 
 turret which overlooks the orchard "\^'ill suit me exactly. Jt has a 
 mndow to the south wdiicli overlooks the garden. Excellent ! I can 
 ■".vatch the buds and blossoms in spring, — I will look at them the 
 moment I leap from bed ; but, alas ! I must not do more. I shall 
 then be a gentleman, and Monsieur Frangois Hosat, father-in-law of 
 the lord of Quinsay, must not be up with the lark, like IMaitre Fran- 
 cois the gardener, — that would never do. This red nightcap I will 
 exchange for a hat of the best beaver, tied up with a silver loop, a la 
 Louis XVI.— My coat—' 
 
 " The train of my vain but happy thoughts was cruelly cut short 
 by the apparition of a v/oman standing before me. Her appearance 
 <leclared her to be sunk to the lowest ebb of misery and degraded 
 destitution. She was tanned by exposure to the weather; bare- 
 headed, bare-footed,- -almost -svithout covering, and bore in her arms 
 a poor child, almost as wan and meagre as herself. Ah, mon Bieu ! 
 how keenly at this distant time can my memory recall the agony of 
 that terrible recognition. Oh, what a moment was that ! Disguised 
 as she was, I recognised her ; but a mist overspread my vision, and I 
 felt her fall into my open arms, although I could not for some 
 minutes discern her. 
 
 " 'My father ! oh, my father !' said she. But, alas ! her voice was 
 not so sweet as of old. 
 
 " ' Justine, I forgive you,' was my answer. ' Come again to my 
 bosom : the past shall be forgotten.' 
 
 " She sank down between my knees upon the earth, and lay 
 motionless and still. Monsieur, I 'will not protract this intrusive 
 story of my griefs. She vras dead ! she had expired at that moment, 
 — the kindness of my forgiveness had killed her ! Unrequited love, 
 unkindness, sorrow, shame, and misery had wrought their worst 
 upon her, — she was destroyed ! De Itlesmai had taken her to Italy 
 and there, ruthlessly abandoning her for some new victim, she was 
 left to find her way as she best could to Besancon, to place in my 
 charge the infant to w^hich she had given birth on the Avay. The 
 child of De Mesmai is the Maria to w^hom he behaved so insolently 
 to-night. _ Two days afterwards the poor polluted lily of Besan^^on 
 was laid in her mother's grave ; and as I strewed the fresh flowers 
 <m the green turf which covered her, I knelt down upon it, and 
 solemnly swore a vow, — a vow at once terrible and impious, — to seek 
 revenge upon her destroyer. 
 
 " I joined one of those secret bands, or societies, then so numerous 
 
 p2 
 
212 THE EOMANC£ OF VTJlTI. 
 
 in France, composed of men wlio were desperate by their character!" 
 and fortunes, and the sworn enemies of kings and of nobility. I 
 longed for desperate vengeance, and the hour for glutting it seemed 
 at hand. A bloody standard was soon to wave over France, and des- 
 tiny had pointed out that, like your own Stuarts, the Bourbons were 
 a doomed race. The spirit of revolution and destruction was soon 
 to sweep over my country, blighting and blasting it like the simoom 
 of the African desert; and, eager as I was for vengeance on De Mes- 
 mai. I hailed the approaching tumult with joy, and entered into the 
 wildest schemes of the most savage republicans and heaven-daring 
 atheists. So eagerly did I attend the taverns of Besan^on to hear 
 the news from Paris, that the little innocent confided by Justine to 
 my charge was quite neglected. My garden became a wilderness ; 
 I became sullen and morose, and forgot even to hang fresh flowers 
 as had been my custom daily, on the grave of Justine. 
 
 " About six months after her return, the once dreary chateau was 
 filled with sudden life and bustle. Monsieur Maurice had retunied, 
 bringing with him a number of wild and reckless fellows like him- 
 self. These were all oflicers of his own regiment, except one very 
 sad dog, worse even than the rest, Monsieur Louis Chateaufleur, 
 captain of the Gens d' amies Ecossois, or first trooj) of the French 
 gendarmerie. Nothing was heard of now but feasting, drinking, and 
 desperate gambling -within the chateau : hunting, hawking, shooting, 
 frolics, and outrages of every sort committed out of it. The guests 
 of De Mesmai were some of the wildest roues about Paris — and the 
 mess of the Due de Choiseul's regiment had produced many of them, 
 — and a great commotion their appearance made in Besancon and 
 the rural district of Quinsay. All the lamps in the former were 
 sometimes broken in a single night, and the whole city involved in 
 darkness, while these madcaps and their servants possessed them- 
 selves of the steeples, where they rang the alarum-bells backwards, 
 and rushed through the streets, crying 'Fire ! murder ! robbery and 
 invasion ! ' until ttie peaceable citizens were scared out of their seven 
 senses. 
 
 " Nor were their brawls and outrages confined to the night alone. 
 The wdg of Monsieur le Maire was dragged off and flung in his face, 
 when he was passing tlirough the E-ue de I'Universite. Swords were 
 drawn in the lobbies of the theatre every night, and the gens d'armes 
 were always beaten and insulted. Monsieur Chateaufleur, of the 
 Gens d'armes Ecossois, as a crowning outrage, carried off by force 
 to the chateau a young milUner, or grisette, of the Eue de Paradis ; 
 and the citizens of BesanQon were enraged beyond what I can 
 describe at the insolences of these young aristocrats, who were at 
 once struck with terror and dismay when news arrived of the 
 revolution which had broken out in Paris, and of the bloody tumults 
 which had ensued there. De Mesmai armed his servants, and the 
 inhabitants of the chateau kept close within its walls. 
 
 " The same wild spirit of uproar and anarchy that prevailed at 
 Paris seemed also to pervade the provinces, which appeared suddenly 
 in a state of insurrection, the people of France seeming to consider 
 their allegiance to Louis XVI. at an end. The spirit of dissatisfac- 
 tion had spread to the troops. Those in garrison at Besangon laid 
 down their arms, and abandoned the citadel to the bourgeois, who 
 on becoming thus suddenly armed, assumed the cocade de la liberie, 
 and, wearing this repubhcan badge, committed the most frightful 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 213 
 
 outrages. No dwelling, sacred or profane, escaped sack and pillage ; 
 no age, or rank, or sex, did we spare, executing indiscriminately, by 
 the musket and sabre, all who opposed us. Burning for vengeance 
 against the family of Be Mesmai, I had associated myself with and 
 become a leader among the republicans. We ruined the city of 
 BesanQon, giving its public buildings, its schools, and university to 
 the flames. Alas, monsieur ! deeply at this hour do I repent me of 
 the part I bore in these desperate outrages. We compelled the 
 proud nobles to acknowledge that they had lost their privileges, and 
 we burned to the ground their office of records in the city. We 
 sacked and utterly levelled the rich abbey of the Citeaux,— that place 
 made so famous by the animadversions of Voltaire. The young and 
 beautiful Princess de Baufremont, and the Baroness d'Andelion, who 
 dwelt there, owe their escape from our fury to the interposition of 
 Heaven and the chivalric gallantry of Louis Chateaufleur, who, with 
 two of the Gens cVarmes JScossois, cut his way through us, sword in 
 hand, and carried the noble demoiselles off on horseback. Flushed 
 with success, excitement, ferocity, and the wines found in the vaults 
 of the rich old abbey, we became absolutely frantic, and some, 
 imbruing their hands in each other's blood, slew their comrades; 
 while others daubed themselves with gore or black paint, to make 
 themselves more hideous. Eager for more plunder and devastation, 
 w^e cried out to, or rather commanded, our leader, the ungrateful 
 Pierre Eaoul, to lead us against the stately old chateau of Quinsay 
 that its aristocratic guests might be given up to our vengeance. 
 With the dawTi, De Mesmai was roused from his bed by the beating 
 of drums, the braying of horns, discharge of fire-arms, the yells, the 
 howls, the shrieks of the frenzied rabble, mingled with shouts of 
 ' Vive la nation ! Vive la liberie ! Perish the name of God and the 
 king ! Freedom to Prance ! Long live Monsieur Beelzebub !' and 
 a hundred other mad and impious cries. The gay lord of Quinsay, 
 and his comrades of Choiseul's horse, beheld, to their no small terror, 
 the gardens, the orchards, and parks in possession of a desperate 
 mob, armed with bayonets, muskets, pikes, scythes, and every wea- 
 pon they could lay their hands on — iron rails and fences where 
 nothing else could be procured. All were full of wine and frenzy : 
 many were only half-dressed, blackened with smoke and dust, and 
 besmeared with blood, presenting a frightful troop of hideous faces, 
 distorted by the worst and wildest of human passions. 
 
 " You may imagine the surprise of Pierre Kaoul and his Avortliies, 
 when at the gate of the chateau, we were met by jNlonsieur Maurice 
 ;aud his gay companions, bowing and smiling, gracefully waving their 
 hats, while they greeted us with cries of Long live the nation ! 
 Long live the sovereign people ! Vive le diable !' We were asto- 
 nished, and greeted them with the most tremendous yells, while a 
 hundred black and dirty hands wrung theirs in burlesque friendship. 
 The whole band were formally invited to a repast, served up in the 
 hall of the chateau, from which De jMesmai had hurriedly torn 
 do^yn all the banners and armorial bearings of his house, substi- 
 tuting in their place an immense tri-coloured cockade, that was 
 fastened to the back of the chair of state, in v/hich the insolent 
 Pierre Eaoul installed his ungainly figure. Many now strode about, 
 daring and unrestrained intruders into the very hall where they had 
 often stood as humble dependents, trembling and abashed in the 
 presence of De Mesmai, who had been, in the neighbourhood of 
 
214 7HE EOIIANCE OF WAE. 
 
 BesanQon, a much greater man than Louis XVI. was at Paris or 
 Versailles. At the hastily-prepared feast with which he entertained 
 us, we ate and drank of everything, gorging ourselves like savages 
 8ij we were. The richest and most expensive ^^ines in the cellars of 
 tie cha,teau were flowing at oiu* orders like water. Pipes and pun- 
 iieons were brought up by dozens and madly staved, until the floor 
 Avam with crimson, purple, and yellow liquor, to the imminent 
 danger of those who lay upon it in a state of exhaustion or intoxica- 
 tion. ' AVine ! wine ! ' was the cry, and the contents of well-sealed 
 flasks of LachrjTnce Christi and Coteroti were poured do\"ni our ple- 
 beian throats hke the commonest beverage. We ordered all sorts of 
 things, beating and insulting the unoffending servants of the chateau 
 until they fled from us ; and the noise and uproar in the hall, 
 crowded as it w'as to suffocation with armed and intoxicated madmen, 
 became stunning and appalling. 
 
 " A hundred times I had resolved, by a single thrust- of my pike, 
 to sacrifice De Mesmai to the shade of Justine ; but the hourly 
 massacres I saw committed by my barbarous comrades, had glutted 
 my longings for vengeance, and when I remembered that De ]Mesmai 
 was the father of Justine's little girl, my fierce resolution relented. 
 As often as I raised my hand to stab him to the heart, my soul died 
 within me, — and he escaped. Very great however was our surprise 
 at the condescension of this once proud noble, and the gay chevaliers 
 his companions ; and while doing the honours of the table, we sub- 
 jected them to a thousand mortifications and gross insults. We tore 
 the lace and facings from their uniform ; trnnsferred their epaulets 
 from their shoulders to those of Pierre Kaoul and our loaders; 
 tossed wine in their faces, u i fully tried their patience to the utmost 
 hmits of mortal endurance ; but dire and unheard of was the ven- 
 geance they were meditating. 
 
 " AATiile we were thus rioting in the ancient hall, chosen servants 
 of De Mesmai were placing barrels of gunpowder in the vaults im- 
 mediately beneath it. When all was prepared, our host withdrew, 
 and one by one his guests followed him, and left the chateau unper- 
 ceived. 
 
 " The train was fired, and the mine sprung. _ Never shall I forget 
 the expression I read in the faces of the republicans at that moment, 
 — the last of their existence ! 
 
 "We heard beneath our feet an appalling roar — a noise as if the 
 globe was splitting asunder. All looked aghast, and I cried aloud on 
 that God to help me, whose existence I had denied a moment before ; 
 but the unfortunate vrretches around me had scarcely time either 
 for prayer or blasphemy. The pavement heaved beneath their feet ;, 
 the massive walls trembled and sunk inwards ; the stone-arched rooi 
 descended thundering on their devoted heads, — aU was darkness, 
 chaos, and indescribable horror ! Of a thousand men who crowded 
 the place, not one escaped save myself: all were buried in the ruins, 
 — the masonry of a v,iiole wing of the chateau covered them. Yes, 
 monsieur, I alone escaped that terrible explosion. By Heaven's 
 grace, rather than my own deserts, I happened at the instant to be 
 standing in the recess of an oriel window, and was blown into the 
 garden, where, when my senses returned, I found myself Ijing safe 
 and whole on my favourite tulip-bed. 
 
 " De Mesmai and his friends had fled to some place at a distance, 
 where they took shipping for Britain. Messieurs the bourgeois 
 
TnE EOMAIrCE OF wah. 215 
 
 frere exasperated to madness at the explosion of Quinsay. They 
 rose en masse in arms, and the noble old chateau was razed almost tc 
 the foundation, and ail the castles in the neighbourliood of Besangon 
 shared the same late. The populace were even under less restraint 
 than before, and committed excesses, inconceivable to those who 
 heheld them not, under the banner and sacred name of liberfjf. The 
 National Assemlily offered a reward for De Mesmai's head ; but he 
 was safe in London, and the British government refused to give him 
 up. Afterwards, v/hen Louis was no more, and the silver Ulies 
 of old France v;ere trodden as it were to the earth, De Mesmai 
 made his peace with his countrymen by some means, and fought as 
 a private soldier in the battles of the Kepublic. He distinguished 
 himself, and has now, in this noonday of French heroism, risen to 
 the rank of a captain of cavalry under the Corsican usurper, — this 
 self-made emperor, who usurps the crown and sceptre of a better 
 race,— a race now exiled, and finding a refuge in the capital of Scot- 
 land. Napoleon has restored to De Mesmai his estate of Quinsay, 
 and he is a favourite both with the court and army, he may yet 
 become a marshal of the empire. 
 
 " Of myself, I have little more to say, monsieur. Taking with me 
 my grand-daughter, the little Maria, I abandoned Besancon, the 
 scene of such tumult and disorder, and wandered I know not why, 
 or how, across the Pyrenees into Spain, where, as I had received a 
 good education in my youth, I was admitted as a brother into the 
 order of los Cajmchinos, at Truxillo, and soon after received the 
 situation of curate here, — at this peaceful little hamlet. Villa jiacia, 
 where, for fifteen years past, I have dwelt in retirement and hap- 
 piness. Although the memory of my wife and unfortunate daughter 
 is not effaced, time has, in a great measure, softened the pangs I feel 
 when thoughts of them occur to my mind. 
 
 "I now consider myself a happy and contented old man. My 
 parishioners, my books, and the fair young girl my grand-child, have 
 been the companions of my increasing years. But I am soon to be 
 deprived of my merry and volatile Maria. A very noble cavalier of 
 Truxillo, Don Gonzago de Conciuesta, has not disdained to sue for 
 and obtain the promise of her hand. They will soon be wedded, and 
 I am to perform the happy ceremony, 
 
 "This is all my tale, monsieur, in elucidation of the singular 
 scene you saw acted here this evening. I trust I have not wearied 
 you in this sketc'n of my life: although an humble one, it has been 
 full of sorrows. I never thought again to have recalled them so fully 
 to my mind ; but the unexpected appearance of their author under 
 my roof has rolled back the tide of years to thehour in which we 
 first met— I knew the 6ne and noble features of his race the moment 
 he laid aside his helmet. But I will not detain you longer from 
 rest, monsieur. Take anothef cup of this simple wine, ana permit 
 me to bid you, as we say here in Spain, Buenos noches — Good night.'' 
 
THE KOilANCJu OF -WaK. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 AN AEEEST. 
 
 The next morning by daybreak E-onald and his prisoner quitted 
 Villa Macia. 
 
 The young Scot was disgusted mth the levity and carelessness 
 ■with which, at their departure, De IMesmai treated the tears and 
 sorrow of his daughter, and the pious admonitions of the reverend 
 cti^ra. 
 
 " Body o' the Pope ! " said he, as they cantered under the shade of 
 the cork-trees which lined the road, " what a rare blockhead has 
 become monsieur my old gardener, now curate of Villa Macia. How 
 D'Erlon and his aiguletted staff would laugh, if they knew I had 
 become quite a family man ! I am always apprehensive that some 
 of my Avild pranks will come unluckily to light, as this affair of poor 
 Justine Rosat's has done ; but I am too old a soldier to be put to the 
 blush. Blush ! I have no blood to spare — the bleeding of twenty 
 years' campaigning has cured me of that. How the poor girl wept ! 
 what the deuce ! surely she did not expect me to take her Avith me ? 
 Captain Maurice de Mesmai, of Monsieur le Compte d'Erlon's staff, 
 with a family ! Corloeuf! the idea is most excellent ! 'Tis well 
 Victor d'Estouville and our first major, Louis Chateaufleur, know 
 nothing of this ; otherwise they would quiz me out of the service. 
 However, I commend my daughter to the long-visaged and noble 
 cavalier, Don — Don — what the devil is his name ? — Gonzago de Con- 
 questa ; and vow, if he makes not a good husband, affectionate father, 
 and displays not all the good qualities you will find graven on every 
 good man's tombstone, I will crop his ears— I will, by the name of 
 the bomb ! Ho, ho ! now when I remember it, what a long roll-call 
 Monsieur le Cure made of my early scrapes, last night. I listened to 
 liim through a chink in the partition. Tite-dieu ! how impertinent 
 the old dog was. I o-wn to you I was on the point of cutting short 
 his exceedingly rude harangue a dozen times." 
 
 De Mesmai kept talking thus for an hour at a time, -uithout 
 heeding the interruptions of Ponald, who did not hesitate to acquaint 
 him freely with the opinion he entertained of his feehngs and senti- 
 ments, at which the other only laughed in his usual loud and 
 boisterous manner. 
 
 At San Pedro they were received into the house of the alcalde, 
 who showed them every attention and civility. But there an 
 unlucky brawl ensued. De Mesmai, probably to spend the time, 
 paid such close attention to the patrona, a plump, rosy, and good- 
 natured-hke matron, that the worthy alcalde, her lord and master, 
 started up from the supper-table in a sudden fit of jealousy and rage, and 
 would have stabbed the cuirassier with a poniara, which he suddenly 
 unsheathed from his boot— a place of concealment often used for 
 such a weapon in Spain. Ronald's timely interference quelled this 
 dangerous brawl, and molhfied the fierce merchant, for the alcalde 
 was a retailer of Cordovan leather ; and Stuart was very glad when 
 he had his troublesome companion once more out on the highway, 
 where his pride and petulance had less opportunities of rousing tho 
 Ire of the fiery Spaniards.} 
 
THE EOMANCK OF WAE. 217 
 
 Near Medellin, a town twenty miles east of !Merida, their liorsea 
 suddenly became dead lame ; and Ronald, who was chafed to fury at 
 the delay caused by this accident, lost much more time, as he could 
 not abandon the major's horse, and it could proceed but slowly. 
 Next day, the ninth of his absence, he beheld before him the massive 
 amphitheatre, the Gothic spires and well-known bridge of the old 
 Eoman city, which was associated with so many sad and tender 
 reminiscences of Catalina, a thousand recollections of whom came 
 crowding into his mind, plunging him into melancholy, from which 
 Pe Mesmai vainly endeavoured to rouse him by an animated 
 description of the follies and the gaiety of Paris, and biographical 
 sketches of the reigning beauties, with all of whom he was, by his 
 own account, a decided favourite. 
 
 It was dark when they reached the bridge, on the centre of which, 
 where the blown-up arch was crossed by wooden planks, they saw 
 two Highland sentinels pacing at their post, the flutter of their 
 plaids and waving folds of their kilts giving to them the appearance 
 of a couple of those ancient Romans who had often kept watch and 
 ward upon the same spot. On hearing the sound of the approaching 
 hoofs, they came to their front, and one challenged, in the familiar 
 voice of Evan Iverach, " Stand ! "Who goes there ? " 
 
 " Ronald an deigh nam fiann" (the last of his race), answered 
 Stuart in Gaelic, almost laughing. 
 
 The two astonished Highlanders set up a loud skraigh, which 
 startled the very leaves of the olives on the other side of the 
 Guadiana, and ringing under the arches of the bridge, died away in 
 the winding rocks of the river. 
 
 •' Who is the officer on guard here ? " asked Ronald, after Evan's 
 extravagant joy at his sudden appearance had somewhat subsided. 
 
 •' Mr. Macdonald, sir." 
 
 " Which ? We have six or seven." 
 
 "' Lieutenant Ronald Macdonuil, sir. The guard-house is close by 
 the first barricade ye' 11 find cast across the croon o' the causeway, just 
 inside the yetts o' the toon." 
 
 Promising to satisfy to-morrow the eager and afiectionate inquiries 
 of Evan, who hung on at his plaid very unceremoniously, Stuart, 
 with his prisoner, crossed the bridge ; and entering the city-gate, 
 found Macdonuii's guard under arms, having been startled by the 
 holloa of the two sentinels. 
 
 " Where are the colonel's quarters ? " asked Ronald of the officer 
 on duty, when congratulations had ceased. 
 
 " Next door to the town-house ; you will easily know it, — a large 
 building with a portico. But I would advise you to defer reporting 
 your arrival until to-morrow." 
 
 " Why so, Macdonuil ? The sooner so much the better, surely ? " 
 
 " But Cameron is sure, from the direction in which Campbell said 
 you left Almarez, that you were not in the hands of the enemy; and 
 he is strangely enraged at your singular absence." 
 
 " Singular ? How ! have I not explained to you — " 
 
 "Oh, perfectly; I am quite satisfied. But, my dear Stuart, 
 Cameron is such a fiery sort of fellow, that he \\ill not be so easily 
 ]3leased, notwithstanding your having captured this French officer. 
 Tou must prepare yourself for something disagreeable, as he is deter- 
 mined to put you under arrest ; and it -will not put him in a better 
 humour to report your return just now, almost at midnight." 
 
213 THE BOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 "You are right, jMacdonuil. But v/hat shall I do for a billet? 
 Twelve o'clock,— there is the bell-clock of the corporation-house 
 striking." 
 
 " We have ostablislied a temporary mess-room, and you had better 
 go to it; our fellows are all there still, I have httle doubt,— they are 
 never in a hurry to break up. You know the Calle do Guadiana— '* 
 
 " Lying between the river and the Plaza ? " 
 
 " Yes. Pass do^vn there, wheel to your left, and you will come to 
 the chapter-house of the San Juan convenv, where our temporary 
 mess-house is established." 
 
 " But I shall probably find Fassifern there ; and if anything dis- 
 agreeable — " 
 
 *' There is no danger, I saw him at sunset return to his billet in 
 the Calle de Santa Clara, accompanied by his faithful esquire, and 
 orderly, Dugald Mhor; so he is without doubt housed for the 
 night." 
 
 Konald followed Macdonuil's directions, accompanied by De 
 Mesmai, who had been so often in Merida that he knew the streets 
 as well as an inhabitant could have known them. On reaching the 
 foot of the street of the Guadiana, the hghts shining through the 
 tall traceried windows of the chapter-house, together with the 
 unseemly sounds of midnight roistering and merriment w^hich 
 issued from it, informed them that this was the place they sought. 
 
 '_' Here we dismount," said Stuart ; and alighting, they tied their 
 bridles to the necks of t^vo stone saints, whose Vv'eather-beaten heads 
 had for six hundreds years sustained tlie weight of a canopy over the 
 Gothic doorway. Before entering, Eonald gave a glance through a 
 window, between the thick stone mullions of which he took a survey 
 of the company. The gloomy old chapter-house was but indifferently 
 lighted by a dozen yellow old commissariat candles, stuck on the heaas 
 and hands of corbelled saints and angels, shedding a dull and 
 uncertain light on the table, which was composed of a few rough 
 boards nailed together. Around this rude contrivance sat about 
 thirty officers in the Highland uniform, occupying the high-backed 
 oaken chau's which erst were used by the holy fathers of San Juan, 
 when assembled in solemn conclave. Ronald saw that nearly ail his 
 brother officers were present, as few were on guard, and there was 
 not one married man among them. 
 
 The general equipage of the table was different from that of a 
 home-service mess, and contrasted strongly Avith the rich uniforms 
 of the carousers, who were drinking Spanish wine from horns, tin 
 canteens, glasses, and all sorts of vessels fit for the purpose that could 
 be jprocured. 
 
 Corhm'f!" exclaimed De Mesmai, "what a jovial song, — ^more 
 merry than musical, though. I have a dozen minds to strike up the 
 Marseillais hjonn." 
 
 " Stay, — hearken a moment." 
 
 They were singing the well-known Scottish song, "Donald Mac- 
 donald," which had become so popular at the mess, that it always 
 followed the standing toast of " Here's to the Highlandmen, shoulder 
 to shoulder ! " and was chorused in a most methodical manner. By 
 the noisy accompaniments of glasses clanked upon the table, and 
 heels upon the floor, it was evident the company Avere pretty mellow. 
 Some of the windows being open for the admittance of cool air, the 
 
THE ROMANCE OF TVAK, 219 
 
 bold chorus, chanted hy thirty voices, rolled out into the still night 
 air, and echoed among the deserted streets : 
 
 " Sword, and buckler, aiid a', 
 Buckler, and sword, and a' ; 
 For George v/e'll encounter the devil, 
 VVi' sword and buckler, and a'." 
 
 Now Camphell's loud sonorous voice, chanting alone, awoke the 
 echoes of the place : 
 
 " The Gordon is gude in a hurry j 
 
 And Campbell is steel to the bane^ 
 And Grant, and Mackenzie, and Murray, 
 And Cameron, will hurldc to nane. 
 
 " The Stuart is sturdy and wannel, 
 And sae is Macleod and I>Iackay j 
 And I, theii- gude brither, Macdonald, 
 Sail never be last in the fray." 
 
 "Chorus again, gentlemen,"— (and the thirty struck in) 
 " Brogues, and brochan, and a', 
 Brochan, and brogues, and a' ; 
 And up wi' the bomiie blue bonnet. 
 The kilt, the feather, and a'." 
 
 As the chorus died away in the aisles and cloisters of the adjacent 
 church, the door was thrown open, and Eonald, leading his I'renck 
 friend, entered. All eyes vrere turned instantly towards them. 
 
 " Stuart ! Stuart ! Eonald Stuart ! " cried twenty voices : but the 
 Ught glittering on De Mesmai's helmet and breast-plate startled 
 some so much, that their fu'st impulse was to seize their v/eapons, 
 and many a dirk and clajnnore were grasped in the expectation of 
 seeing the room fiUed with frenchmen. Those members of the 
 company who were sober enough, rose from the table to welcome 
 their newly-found friend ; but Louis Lisle, taking his sword and 
 bonnet from a stone saint who had them in keeping, abruptly 
 Avithdrew. 
 
 " Introduce me. Monsieur Stuart," said the cuirassier, with a proud 
 smile, " or by the bomb ! we will have each other by the throat. 
 Do your comrades thur. 'Welcome strangers, by baring sword and 
 dagger ? " 
 
 Konald could scarcely get a word spoken as his brother- officers 
 crowded round him, and a truly Scottish shaking of hands ensued ; 
 while a' hundred questions were asked him by the sober in Enghsh, 
 — by the less so in their more natural Gaelic, about his absence, and 
 returning thus accompanied. It was impossible at that time to relate 
 any particulars, so he determined on deferring all explanations until 
 another time. Though angry at the conduct of Lisle, he was never- 
 theless much gratified by the friendly reception he met with from 
 the other officers ; but as he had no heart to partake in their carousal, 
 he withdrew soon after (to the disappointment of all) with Alister 
 Macdonald to his billet, until another could be procured from au 
 alcalde. De Mesmai remained at the table, and soon established 
 himself as the lion of the company, and although he spoke always 
 in Spanish, or very imperfect English, he became a general favourite, 
 and kept the mess in roars of laughter. Military topics were 
 studiously avoided, but he talked in his usual style incessantly about 
 
220 THE BOMANCE OF "WAK. 
 
 duels iind girls, brawls and debauches, strand adventures and French 
 military frolics, until the morning drums neating reveille through 
 the streets, warned the jovial party to separate ; but; I beheve more 
 than half of them took their repose on the pavement of the chapter- 
 house, which had never before been the scene of such carousing. 
 
 Next morning Stuart completed his toilet hurriedly, with the 
 intention of waiting on the colonel. 
 
 '' Prepare yourself for something disagreeable, Eonald,"' said Mac- 
 donald, who Avas leaning over a window which looked out on the 
 
 principal street leading from the Plaza to the river. " Claude A , 
 
 the adjutant, is coming here under the piazzas. He wears his saslv. 
 and gorget, and I have no doubt Cameron has sent him to pay you a 
 visit." 
 
 " I expected such ; yet the chief is somewhat hurried." 
 
 " Take care how you style him so : I was nearly put under arrest 
 for it at San Pedro. " Come in ! " cried Alister, as a smart knock was 
 heard at the room-door. 
 
 " Sorry to spoil your breakfast, Stuart, by this early visit," said the 
 adjutant, entering; "but Cameron has sent me for your sword, and 
 desires me to say that you must consider yourself under arrest, until 
 you can state satisfactorily in wiiting your reasons for absenting 
 yourself for these nine days past without leave. He is in a towering 
 passion ; all the blood of Lochiel seems to be bubbhng up in him, 
 because you did not report yourself last night. I never before saw 
 his eyes glare as they do this morning." 
 
 ;| Pshaw! Claude, you— " 
 
 " A fact, upon my honour. But do not be alarmed : he is too well 
 pleased with your conduct at Almarez to carry this aflFair to extre- 
 mities. I believe, but for that night's work, he 'would bring you to a 
 court-martial iiistanter." 
 
 " The deuce he would ! Do you think so, A ?" 
 
 " Of course. You know Cameron ; there is not a stricter fellow iu 
 the service, — a regular martinet. But you had better take your pen, 
 and endeavour to satisfy him by a sheet of foolscap. 'Tis well you 
 left us so soon last night, as you will require a clear head this 
 morning. Mine aches as if it would fall in pieces ; but I mean to 
 call at the wine-house ; (you know the saying), ' to take a hair of the 
 dog that bit me.' " 
 
 " A very strange fello-vr, the French cuirassier, Claude ?" observed 
 JMacdonald. 
 
 '■'A hair-brained spark as ever I met -with. He has played sad 
 miscliief with all ours. We shall not have one officer to each 
 company on parade this morning. A dozen, I believe, are lying 
 under the table with himself. Campbell, old Macdonald, and our 
 most seasoned topers, were put to their metal by him. But give me 
 your sword, Stuart ; the colonel is waiting for it, but I trust will not 
 keep it long. You must endeavour to make your peace with him as 
 soon as possible, and not be under any fear of being put in Coventry 
 by our mess : we know you too well to do that." 
 
 Ronald felt considerable chagrin as he beheld Claude A , the 
 
 adjutant, carry off his weapon, and found himself under arrest, and 
 in iraminent danger of being arraigned before a general court- 
 martial. He composed himself to indite, for the colonel's perusal, 
 an account of his absence which he found a very delicate and diffi- 
 fjult matter, as he was unwilling that the mess should get hold of 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 22i 
 
 poor (Malina's name to make it a subject of ridicule, aud quiz him 
 about it, whicli he feared would be done unmercifully, if he took not 
 some stern means to stop them. 
 
 Nearly a quire of paper was expended before he could get a 
 despatch worded to his own and Macdonald's satisfaction : one giving 
 as brief and concise an account as possible of his adventures, and 
 declaring that the reason of his sudden departure from Almarez was 
 to free the sister of Bon Alvaro, of Villa Eranca, from Cifuentes, the 
 well-known bandit, who had accompanied the first brigade disguised 
 as a priest. Evan was despatched with the letter to the coloners 
 quarters ; whilst Stuart and IMacdonald, accompanied by De JMesmai, 
 went to visit D'Estouville, the unfortunate commandant of Port 
 Napoleon, who was dying of the wound he had received from the 
 officer of the 71st, 
 
 An old chapel, situated near the Baths of Diana, had been appro- 
 priated as an hospital for those wounded at the forts of Almarez. 
 The design of some Gothic architect when the art was in its infancj', 
 it was a low dark building, with short clumsy columns, gloomy 
 arches, enormously thick walls, and dismal little windows, between 
 the thick mullions of which the grey daylight seemed to struggle 
 to be seen. What a scene of multiplied human misery the interior 
 of the chapel presented ! The wounded soldiers, British and Prcnch, 
 to the number of some hundreds, lay in ranks on the damp pave- 
 ment, over Avhich a little straw was thro^^"n, as no bedding could be 
 given them. Deep and hollow groans of acute agony and suffering 
 sounded from many parts of the building, and the continual rustling 
 of the straw announced the impatient restlessness of sickness and 
 pain. Here lay the gallant and high-spirited conscript, brooding 
 gloomily, and almost weeping, over those visions of glory, which the 
 amputation of a leg had suddenly cut short ; and there the st«rn 
 grenadier of the Imperial guard lay coolly surveying his o^\T^ blood 
 as it trickled through the straw, and filled the carved letters of 
 epitaphs on the pavement stones. Near him lay his conqueror, the 
 British soldier, shorn of a limb, dejected and miserable, having 
 nothing before him now bvit a " passport to beg," and the poor apo- 
 logy for a pension which grateful Britain bestows on her defenders, 
 "with the happy resource of starving in a parish workhouse. All 
 were pale as death, and all disfigured by blood and bandages, — grisly, 
 ghastly, unwashed, and unshaven. Often as they passed up the aisle, 
 Stuart and Macdonald held the tin canteen to the parched lips of some 
 wounded man, who drank greedily of the hot stale water it con- 
 tained, and prayed them piteously to adjust his bandages, or by doing 
 some little office to alleviate his pain. Some were dying, and lay 
 convulsed among their straw, with the death-rattle sounding in their 
 throat, — expiring, unheeded and uncared for, without a friend to 
 behold them or a hand to close their eyes ; and as soon as they were 
 cold, they were seized by the hospital orderlies, and carried off for 
 interment. 
 
 A wretched combination of misery, pain, and sorrow the interior 
 of that little chapel presented, and it made a deeper impression on 
 Stuart and Alister than on De Mesmai, who was an older soldier, 
 and had beheld, in twenty years' campaigning, too much bloodshed 
 and agony to recoil at the sight of it there ; but he loudly expressed 
 his pleasure at beholding the attention paid to his countrjiuen. He 
 saw that no distinction v.as made ; the ^rounded of both nations 
 
222 TUE KOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 received the same attendance from the medical officers and their 
 orderhes : and more than one grenadier of the Quard allowed his 
 dark features to relax intf) a grim smile, as his red-coated attendants 
 held up his head, to pour down his throat some dose of disagreeable 
 stuff. 
 
 " Ha ! Stewart," said Bonald, catching his namesake the assistant 
 surgeon by the belt as he was rushing past, with a saw in one hand 
 and a long knife gleaming in the other. 
 
 "Don't detain me, pray. I have just clapped the tourniquet on 
 that poor devil in the corner. I have to take his arm out of the 
 socket, at the shoulder, too — a fearful operation : you'll hear his 
 shrieks immediately. Sorry to hear you are under arrest. You wUl 
 get through it, though, doubtless, — being a favourite." 
 
 " Where is D'Estouville, the French major ; and how is he ?" 
 
 '■' Near his last gasp, poor man. You need not go to him now, as 
 he is dying, and troubhng him will not lengthen his life a second. I 
 could do nothing more for him, and so have resigned him to his fate. 
 I must attend to our o^vn people, whose lives are of more conse- 
 quence, — every man being worth exactly twenty pounds to govern- 
 ment, as you will see in — I forget what page of the ' Mutiny Act.' " 
 
 " How can you jest in such a horrid den as this ? You surgeons 
 are strangely cool fellows, certainly. But D'Estouville — " 
 
 " Is lying yonder, at the foot of that marble monument. Do not 
 trouble him now ; he will be dead in five minutes. — Excuse me : \ 
 have to amputate a leg to prevent mortification, and its owner is 
 growling and swearing at my delay." 
 
 Under a Gothic canopy lay the marble effigy of a warrior of the 
 days that are gone. It was the tomb of one of the Yilia Eranca 
 family. He was represented in armour, and Ijing at full length, 
 with his hands crossed on his bosom. The canopied recess had been 
 made a receptacle for the caps and knapsacks of dead men, which 
 were, without ceremony, piled above the figure of the Spanish cava- 
 lier. A tattered pennon, a rusty casque, and a time-worn sword, hung 
 over the niche, where a marble tablet announced it to be the tomb 
 of the noble knight Don Eodrigo de '\^illa Franca : — " Muerto en una 
 iatalla con los Moros, a cliez ds Noviemhre, del ano de mil y viente 
 y sieter* 
 
 In front of this ancient tomb lay D'Estouville. Alas ! how much 
 ten days of pain and suffering had changed the gallant young French- 
 man ! He was stretched on a pile of bloody straw, stripped to his 
 shirt and regimental trousers. A large bandage, clotted and gory, 
 encircled his head, and his once veiy handsome features were sadly 
 changed ; they were sunken and hollow, pale and emaciated to the 
 last degree. !He lay motionless, with his eyes closed; but his lips 
 ■were parted, and he respired through his clenched teeth viith diffi- 
 culty. His head rested on a knapsack, placed under it by an honest 
 Irishman of the 50th, wiio lay on his left, smoking a short black pipe, 
 while he sui*veyed, with a composed but rueful look, the stump of 
 his right arm. On the other side lay a Gordon Highlander, quivering 
 in the agonies of death : a shot had lodged in his breast, and he, too, 
 had been given up as incurable by the medical officers. The agony 
 he endured had brought on a delirium ; he was chanting, in low and 
 aauttering tones, a sad and plaintive Gaelic dirge, — probably the 
 
 • Slain by the Moors ja battle, the lOth November of the year 1027." 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 228 
 
 death-song of his race, and as his voice sunk and died away, the bold 
 spirit of the Son of the Mist seemed to pass with it. 
 
 ''Movhleu ! poor Victor !" said De Mesmai. "Ah ! messieurs,— 
 surely he is not dead ?" 
 
 At the sound of the French exclamation, D'Estouville opened his 
 eyes, and attempted in vain to raise his head ; but a faint smile of 
 recognition passed over his pale features as he beheld Eonald Stuart, 
 and ''gazed on the Avell-knowTi uniform of De Mesmai. " Poor 
 fellow !" continued the latter, while a tear glistened in his eye, as he 
 knelt down and took the hand of Victor ; " he is evidently far gone. 
 Many a merry bout we have had together at old Marcel's, and many 
 a midnight frohc with the girls and gens d'armes in the Eue de la 
 Conference ; but these times have all passed now, and can never be 
 again. Speak to me, my friend ! How is your Avouud ? " _ 
 
 ''Le.v malheurs de la guerre ! AJi, De Mesmai, man ami, les mal- 
 hev.rs de la gnerre .'" muttered the wounded man, and sunk back- 
 ward on his miserable bed ; then pointing to his head, he added, " A 
 mon camarade — hlessure — ou — oii—j^laie mortelle !" 
 
 " They have brought me here, too, Victor, those cursed misfortunes 
 of war ; but my case is not so bad as yours. The helmet is a better 
 defence than the grenadier cap against the straight-cutting blades of' 
 these fiery Scots. Cheer up, D'Estouvihe; while there is life, hope 
 remains. You may yet lead the old Guard in the charge ! the eagles 
 of the empire may yet flap their wings over you." 
 
 "Never," whispered Macdonald; his race of existence is over. 
 Why, then, inspire him with false hopes of living longer?" 
 
 " He is one of those fellows that are very hard to kill. I know 
 Victor," whispered the other in reply ; then continued as before, 
 " The Emperor has marked you for his own,— the wiiole service say 
 so, D'Estouville, and suppose' that your promotion will be as rapid as 
 ever was Soult's, Macdonald's, Bernadotte's, or any other marshal's 
 of the empire. Eemember these things, mon ami, and never think 
 of death." 
 
 " Death's cold hand is upon me. Ah ! IMaurice, how can I expect 
 to conquer?" 
 
 " Morbleu ! by determining to live, and to earn honour and fame 
 in spite of him. Courage, my friend." 
 
 "No, no, De Mesmai!" replied D'Estouville, with that sudden 
 life and energy which often animates the dying when the moment 
 of dissolution draws near, w^hile his pale cheek flushed, and a hght 
 sparkled in his sunken eye. " Honour and glory— these are- the 
 dreams of every Erenchman, and they once were mine, my constant 
 thoughts, never for a moment absent from my mind. The very 
 visions of my sleep were full of the gloss and glitter of military 
 parade; martial honour was the idol" of my heart. As a gallant 
 young conscript when I left my native home at Lillebonne, as the 
 hardened grenadier, as the dashing subaltern of the Guard, as a 
 iVTetched ]3risoner pining in Scotland, and again as a free and daring 
 soldier, — these high hopes, this proud ambition, never left me for an 
 instant,— buoying and bearing me up under all the toils of war and 
 misfortune, unlnl I found myself stretched on the pavement of this 
 chapel, a dying captive ! Honour has faded away from me, and the 
 prou.d sentiments which caused my heart to sv/ell, to bound "viith 
 rapture at the sharp roll of the drum, now a.nimate me no more, 
 Never again will drum or bugle soimd for me ! " 
 
221 THE EOilANCB OF WAE. 
 
 " I ou spoak very sorrowfully, in truth," replied JDe Mesmai ; 
 " but some droning monk has oeen putting these notions in your 
 head. Take care you do not exhaust yourself, mon ami." 
 
 " Ah, IMaurice ! a thousand times I wish I had fallen sword in 
 hand at Almarez, rather than lingered here, enduring for these past 
 ton days the extremes of mental and bodily agony. Yet had I only 
 received a moment's warning, I question much if that officer of the 
 Scottish chasseurs could have cut me do\\Ti so ea,sily," 
 
 " No. In truth you were an excellent swordsman, Victor — sharp 
 of eye, and sure of hand." 
 
 " I trust, Maurice, you ^vill not be long a prisoner.. 'Twas a sad 
 blank in my life, my captivity. Faith ! mon camarade, I almost 
 shiver at remembrance of the castle of Edinburgh. You Mill re- 
 member me to Louis Chateufleur and the rest of your regiment ; 
 and do so particularly to my o\tu, should you ever fall in with them 
 on service." He spoke now with more difficulty, and at longer 
 intervals. " Glory to France, and long life to the great Emperor ! 
 I trust he will think Major D'Estouville has done his duty. 
 Almarez I defended to the last ; and, Maurice, had you not cut the 
 pontoon, we might have effected our retreat. The Emperor would 
 nave saved four hundred soldiers of his noble old Guard. 
 
 " And your hfe, Victor." 
 
 " A mere bagatelle 1 I lay it down in his service." 
 
 " Vive VMmpereiir !" cried some of his soldiers, who lay within 
 hearing on their pallets of straw. The shout was taken up by many, 
 and echoed through distant parts of the chapel. D'Estouville's eye 
 flashed brightly ; he waved his hand as he would have brandished 
 his sword, and, exhausted with speaking, and the emotions which 
 the gallant battle-cry aroused within him, he again sank backwards, 
 and by t*he spasms which crossed his pallid features, they saw too 
 surely that the moment of death was nigh. Again rousing himseL. 
 from his lethargy, he beckoned to Eonald, who knelt down besid( • 
 him. 
 
 " I would speak to you of Diane de Montmichel," he whispered, 
 in tremulous and broken accents. " Her husband, Monsieur le 
 Earon— de Clappourknuis — the letter I gave you at Truxillo ; ah ! 
 mon ami, do you not understand me ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do not, D'EstouviUe." 
 
 " The hand of the grim king of terrors is upon me ; the sands of 
 Hfe are ebbing fast, and my voice will fail me soon. Monsieur le 
 Earon—" 
 
 " Is released from the castle of Albuquerque, and has passed c ver 
 to the French lines. Think not of these, D^stouville." 
 
 " I — I would give you a message to Diane." 
 
 " Alas ! how can I ever deliver it ?" 
 
 '■ Find means, croix Dieu !" muttered he pitoously, " Kneel 
 closer to me. I depend on your honour, Monsieur Stuart. Diane — 
 Diane — " 
 
 " What of her ? Say— say, ere it be too late ! " 
 
 Eut there was no reply. What the Frenchman would have said 
 expired on his lips, and he fell back speechless on the hard knapsack 
 v»hich formed his pillow. 
 
 He never spoke again ; but in a few minutes died, and without a 
 struggle. 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAE. 226 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 DE MESMAI. 
 
 The death-bed scene of poor D'Estouville, although it made on 
 the witnesses of it a deep impression for the time, was easily passed 
 over when the feelings are blunted and deadened by the continual 
 excitement of campaigning. They had scarcely left the chapel or 
 hospital, before the shade of sorrow which their faces had worn 
 disappeared. Macdonald went away on some duty: Stuart's 
 thoughts reverted to his arrest, and the disagreeable predicament 
 in which he was placed ; while De Mesmai began to talk in his usual 
 light and careless style. He placed his scarlet forage-cap very much 
 on one side, tightened his sash, arranging the tassels gracefully, and 
 stuck his glass in his eye to ogle and scrutinize the females who 
 passed. 
 
 " Poor Victor !" said he ; "a merrier comrade or more gallant 
 soldier than he was, there is not in the imperial service. Many a 
 glorious evening we have had in Paris flirting with the jolies grisettes 
 of the Rue des Trois Maries, — fighting with the gendarmerie, and 
 amusing ourselves by frolicking with messieurs the good-natured 
 bourgeois, — some dozen of whom we have ducked in the Seine. 
 These days are all passed away, and poor Victor is gone to his long 
 home. War leads to death or glory, and his fate to-day may be ours 
 to-morrow ; so, then, what is the utility of being cast down ? Vive 
 lajoie! let us live and be merry while we can. Praised be our 
 stars ! here is a wine-house, where we can spend the evening in a 
 jovial style, and scare away from our hearts the gloom cast upon 
 them by the death of D'Estouville. Biahle 1 mon ami ; for what do 
 you stare so at that old ruinous mansion ? " 
 
 " 'Tis the house of the Villa Prauca family. I received great 
 kindness from them, when I came to Merida for the first time." 
 
 " A picturesque ruin it makes, with its shattered capitals and 
 empty windows. D'Estouville's grenadiers did all that. I have 
 heard that he carried off a very pretty creature from this place, at 
 least so Chateaufleur of ours told me. He had her at Almarez ; but, 
 like a cunning dog, kept her closely out of my sight lest I might 
 have procured her transfer to the lower of Ragusa, when I was left 
 in temporary command. But we had plenty of girls there, by the 
 Pope! We captured a score of plump young x>aisanas ; but their 
 skins were devilish brown, and their hands were all chapped with 
 milking goats and cows. Here is the ^vine-house, — but, morbleu I I 
 have not one infernal sou to clink upon another ! " 
 
 " I have, mon camarade" said Stuart, producing a purse con- 
 taining forty duros, which he had borrowed from Major Campbell, 
 to procure favour with whom he was obhged to endure two long 
 stories about Egypt. 
 
 " Sacre ! forty duros ? A lucky dog and a most gorgeous display, 
 — 'pon honour— really. Enter then, and we will drink a long 
 glassful to the continuance of the war." 
 
 Prom the ^^ine-house they adjourned to the Prado, where they 
 strolled about under the shade of the rich orange-trees, or lounged 
 on the wooden sofas. De Mesmai smoked % cigar, and kept up, to 
 
 a 
 
386 THE EOilANCE OF WAB. 
 
 use a camp phrase, a runnin':' fire of words, and laughed heartily at 
 his own jokes ; while Ronald listened in silence, and surveyed with 
 feelings of mortification the regiment on its evening parade, from 
 whicli for the present he was excluded. 
 
 '' Fine fellows, these bare-kneed Celts of yours. Monsieur Stuart '* 
 said De JMesmai, as he knocked the ashes from his cigar. " A goodly 
 row of most captivating bro^vn legs they have. How pretty the 
 waving tartan seemed, as the corps wheeled from open coiumn into 
 line. They call forth the admiration of the ladies too, — the de- 
 lightful creatures ! Really, 'pon honour, I think they peep more at 
 the Scottish plaids and plumes, than at this smart uniform and 
 bright steel bourgoinette of mine. A gallant chevalier your colonel 
 is. He gives his orders with that firm tone of authority v»hicli 
 marks the true, the bold-hearted soldier, and one bom to command. 
 Asoldadooi most goodly proportions is that long-legged field-oflQcer, 
 who last night bored me to death about Egj-pt, and his campaigns 
 there. Body o' the Pope ! look at that girl." 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 " With the black veil hung over the high comb. What a roguish 
 black eye and most excessively attractive pair of ankles she has 1 I 
 will speak to her. Ho ! ina princesse — " 
 
 " Beware what you do, De Mesmai," interrupted Honald hastily. 
 " She is a lady, and one of rank eviuently, by the lace embroidery on 
 her stomacher and mantilla. Some officers of the 39th are with 
 her, too." 
 
 " Diable ! so I now perceive ; and one of your savage Scotch, 
 chasseurs, I think." 
 
 " Savage ! " repeated Stuart, dubious whether to laugh or frown. 
 " He is an oflBcer of the Highland Light Infantry, — that corps with 
 the tartan trews, and bonnets without feathers. By Jove ! 'tis 
 Armstrong ; the same officer who cut down poor D'Estouville at 
 Almarez. He is flirting with this young lady, and recks no more 
 of the deadly stroke he gave, than if he had killed a muircock. 
 Let us move on. The Highlanders will march past this way, and I 
 little like to be sitting here like an outcast from them,— and without 
 my sword too, by heavens ! " 
 
 " A prisoner of war, — diahle ! Me voila a voire service. I will go 
 with you wherever you please. But there are more girls congregated 
 here, to see the troops on evening parade, than in any other part of 
 this ruinous old city of Merida. In France they love, like the 
 butterflies, to be in the sun ; but here they promenade under the 
 cold shades of the trees, or sail about beneath their gloomy damp 
 piazzas. By the way, it has a most singularly picturesque efiect, a 
 tall graceful figure with a fluttering veil and floating mantilla ghding 
 under these old arches : quite mysterious, in fact. Look, for 
 instance, at that lovely creature with the auburn tresses. Teie- 
 dieu ! how I long to wheel that girl round in a waltz. Ha ! there. is 
 a rouge-et-noir table not far from this, and a thought strikes me ; I 
 shall make my fortune to-night. Will you lend me a couple of 
 those dazzhng duros you showed me a short time ago?" 
 
 " Undoubt'edly, and mth pleasure." 
 
 " Vive la joie ! Come along, then. There is a gaming-house in 
 the Calle de Ferdinando, kept by some officers of the Portuguese 
 ca^ores. Come with me, and I will show you how to break their 
 bank, and carry off their glorious piles of duros and doubloons." 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 827 
 
 " I never gamble," replied Ronald ; " and by the rules of our 
 service 'tis strictly forbidden to do so, either in camp or quarters." 
 
 " Ball ! mon camarade. If I had you within sound of the bells of 
 Notre Dame, I would soon learn you to forget your northern 
 prejudices." 
 
 Stuart's remonstrances and protestations were made in vain. The 
 gay impetuosity of the frenchman overcame them all ; and ^ hile 
 arguing about the matter they arrived at the door, where a board, 
 painted red on one side and black oc the other, announced that 
 the rouge-et-noir table was kept there. A crowd of Enghsh, 
 Portuguese, and German officers were pressing round the table, at 
 the head or which sat the banker, a swarthy Portuguese officer of 
 light infantry, with a long cigar in his mouth, and having heaped up 
 before him several piles of dollars, doubloons, and British guineas, — 
 all of which were rapidly changing hands at every turn of the red 
 and black cards. 
 
 Stuart remarked that there was not a single Scottish bonnet in 
 the room, and his national abhorrence of gambling caused him 
 absolutely to blush at being there. He was disgusted at the wild 
 eagerness, the intense anxiety, the bitter disappointment, fierce 
 anguish, or cruel triumph which he witnessed in the features of the 
 players. The two dollars De Mesmai had borrowed were soon added 
 to the goodly pile which lay before an officer of the 39th ; and urged 
 on by the former, Eonald betted on several cards, all of which 
 turned up fatally, and he had the mortification to behold every one 
 of his remaining dollars swept across the table in quick succession, 
 and coolly pocketed by a fierce-looking Spanish officer of De Costa's 
 brigade, who evidently thought it no sin to gamble, although he 
 wore on his left breast the enamelled red cross of Calatrava, a 
 religious order of knighthood. Eonald rushed away from the hell, 
 feeling absolutely furious at his own folly and at De Mesmai, who, 
 however, continued at the table, in hopes of borrowing from 
 some one. 
 
 The lesson was not lost on Stuart, who, from that day until this, 
 has never touched a card. But that night's play left him hteraUy 
 penniless, and in a strange city. He was ashamed to apply to any of 
 his brother officers, or expose his folly to them ; and as Gordon, the 
 regimental paymaster, had not received the arrears of pay, there was 
 nothing to be hoped for from him. It was now dusk, and he was 
 wandering among the groves of ohve and willow that flourish by the 
 sedgy banks of the Guadiana, and overhang its current. Here, 
 while pursuing the narrow pathway by the river side, he was 
 surprised by seeing the figure of Dugald Mhor Cameron, the 
 colonel's private servant, standing at a short distance from birn — a 
 sure sign that Cameron himself was not far off. 
 
 Dugald Mhor (or big Dugald) was an aged but hardy Highlander, 
 from the country of the Cameron, or the land of the great Lochiel 
 on the banks of Loch Linnhe, among the wild, dark mountains of 
 Lorn and Morven, — the Morven of Ossian. Prom these he came to 
 follow the son of the laird through the continental wars, and he had 
 been by the side of Cameron in every battle in which the corps had 
 been engaged in Egypt, Denmark, Holland, Portugal, and Spain, 
 and had been twice wounded, — once at Bergen-op-Zoom, and again 
 at the battle of Alexandria, in Egypt. Dugald was nearly seventy 
 years of age, yet his well-knit frame was strong and muscular as that 
 
22t» THE EOMA^•CE OF WAK. 
 
 of a lioi-se, and his hair was Avhite as snow ; while his face was as 
 dark as his tartan, by constant exposure to the weather. 
 
 With the broad bhic bonnet over his thin white haflets, the heavy- 
 belted plaid cast over his gallant breast, the dirk, the pistol, and the 
 claymore dangliu;; at his belt, his strong bare limbs, and the brass- 
 studded Highland target slung on his shoulder, Dugald Mhor was 
 Wig beau-ideal of the loyal old Jacobite of the 'forty-five;^ that 
 period when the star of the Stuarts, amid the last blaze of the true 
 Scottish spirit, Hashed forth but to vanish for ever. It need scarcely 
 be added that old Dugald was a stanch Jacobite. He had mtnessed 
 the battle of Culloden, whither, as a sort of page or attendant gilly, 
 he had followed Cameron of Lochiel. Since the day Fassifern left 
 his home to follow the drum, Dugald Mhor had been to him a kind 
 of standing orderly, friend, sometimes a governor, but always a leal 
 true northern henchman, that would cheerfully have laid down his 
 life, if by doing so he should have pleased his master. 
 
 When Stuart beheld this kilted vassal of the colonel's standing on 
 the narrow path before him, he was suro that the latter could be at 
 no great distance ; a flush suffused his cheek, and he became con- 
 fused at the idea of encountering so proud and fiery a man while 
 lying under his displeasure. A turn of the path brought him in 
 view of Cameron, who was just bidding adieu to Sir Rowland Hill. 
 To avoid a rencontre now seemed impossible. The general rode off 
 in the opposite direction, while Cameron advanced straight towards 
 Ronald by the narrow footway at the river side. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Stuart," said he frankly ; " this morning from my 
 trusty Dugald Mhor I received and perused your long letter con- 
 cerning your absence, for which I believe I must excuse you. It 
 was a very unfortunate affair that of the Spanish lad^^'s death ; but 
 every means must be taken to discover this rascal, IMicer Cifuentes. 
 How deeply you colour ! I trust I have said nothing to offend ? 
 All ! I comprehend the matter fully now, by your confusion. There 
 was a great deal more in that letter than what met the eye, though 
 it was "very cunningly worded. But it will not do in these days, 
 even in Spain, to ride to the rescue of every distressed damsel, and a 
 knight-errant in a red coat is a strange anomaly. But I believe 
 there was much more of love than chivalry in the affair ; therefore, 
 Stuart, I pass it over, as I trust it will never occur again." 
 
 " To that, colonel, I may pledge you my word of honour ; one such 
 adventure is quite enough for a lifetime." 
 
 " You are aware how far I might have carried this matter ; for 
 one who commands a Highland regiment, composed of such fiery 
 spirits, and so different from the line generally, must be strict. Your 
 absence has made a noise through the whole division, and I have 
 just been making your peace with Sir Rowland Hill, who is very 
 favourably disposed towards you, in consequence of the dashing 
 manner in which you led the stormers on at Almarez, and for this 
 last affair, — the capture of D'Erlon's aide-de-camp. How very 
 unluckily the count escaped ! He would have been a noble prize to 
 have sent to Britain. The adjutant will send you your sword; and 
 remember not to be restive at the mess, as it is probable you will be 
 severely quizzed, the officers having heard of this Spanish donna, 
 and got aversion of the story very different from the real one." 
 
 That night Ronald returned to his billet with a lighter heart than 
 be bad felt since the death of Catalina. His 'irusty squire of the 
 
THE E0MA2fCE OF WAE 229 
 
 fwd.v, Evan Iveracli, on learning the low slate of his exchequer, 
 pressed upon him a purse of dollars, which he had carefully saved 
 up from his pay, with the intention of purchasing £» silver-mounted 
 set of pipes for his father Donald, the old piper at Lochisla. Ronald, 
 with much reluctance, took the money as a loan, Evan vowing if he 
 did not, he would throw it out of the window into the Guadiana, 
 which ran below it. Any chagrin he had felt at bein^ put under arrest, 
 was entirely obliterated by the hearty congratulations and welcome 
 he received from the oflicers assembled on parade next morning. 
 But his indignation was soon called forth again by the manner in 
 which Louis Lisle greeted him. On advancing towards him with his 
 outstretched hand. Lisle bestowed upon him a cold and angry glance, 
 turned on his heel, and -withdrew to a distant part of the parade. 
 Eonald's fiery blood boiled up within him ; and, had not the memory 
 of Ahce arisen in his mind, subduing and softening him, he would 
 there and then have called her brother to an account for Ms singular 
 conduct. But smothering his indignation, he returned to the group 
 of officers with a flushed brow and an angry eye, to have his temper 
 sorely tried for some time about the Spanish lady, with regard to 
 whom many stories had been circulated at the mess-table. 
 
 On the evening of that day the streets of Merida rang to the echo 
 of muffled drums and the sad notes of the military dead-march, as 
 the funeral of D'Estouville passed on its way to the church of San 
 Juan, attended with similar honours as would have been shown to a 
 British ofhcer of the same rank. 
 
 Ths sword and cap, bearing the badges of the brave old Guard, 
 were laid on the lid of his coffin, the pall of which was borne b} 
 Fassifern and five other field-officers. His countryman, De Mesmai, 
 acted as chief mourner. Another officer of the French medical stafl, 
 who was also a prisoner in Merida, attended likewise. A smile of 
 pleasure kindled in the proud eye of the cuirassier as the mournful 
 procession passed between the ranks of the first brigade, leaning on 
 their arms reversed, and lining the streets on both sides. He was 
 well pleased at the sentiments of generosity and chivalry whicli 
 directed Sir Rowland Hill to evince the same respect to the remains 
 of a foe that would have been paid to those of a friend ; and De 
 jMesmai was one who knew well how to appreciate them. The 
 grenadiers of the Gordon Highlanders formed outside the church, 
 under the command of Major Campbell, and fired three volleys in 
 the air, while the grave closed over the remains of what was once a 
 gay and a gallant heart. The officers of the first brigade of infantry 
 would have erected a monument to the memory of D'Estouville, but 
 it was kno\^'n that it would be demolished by the Spaniards the 
 moment the British left the city ; therefore the idea was abandoned, 
 and the tomb of the guardsman lies unmarked and unknown, under 
 the chancel of the great church of Merida, a few feet in front of the 
 mutilated monument erected to the memory of Erancisco Pizarro, of 
 Ti'uxillo. At the Mine casa and the rouge-et-noir table, De Mesmai 
 was loud that night in praises of British generosity and gallantry ; 
 but these he suddenly changed for something very like invectives, 
 when he was informed that, by daylight next morning, he must be 
 prepared to accompany a detachment of sick and prisoners, who were 
 ordered to the rear. 
 
 "And where is our destination, monsieur, if I may inquire?" 
 asKed he cV Claude A , the adjutant of the Gordon Highlanders, 
 
230 THE I^oMA^'Ci: of "vvae 
 
 who had made the comraunication to him in French. " Some gay 
 place, I hope. Lisbon, is it ? " 
 
 " The ca-stle of Albuquerque, I believe." 
 
 " Tete-dieu ! a most detestable and gloomy hole ! And I am to be 
 mewed up there, am I, monsieur ? " 
 
 " For the present, until an opportunity occurs for your trans- 
 mission to some strong garrison -to\\Ti across the Portuguese frontier, 
 or home to Britain." 
 
 " You are exceedingly kind, Monsieur Oj(ficier, by the name of the 
 bomb! most superbly so, liut I trust that dilatory little devil. 
 General the Count d'Erlon, \n\\ save you all this trouble. And as 
 for my transmission to England — diahle ! I should be sorry his 
 Britannic majesty's government should take so much concern in 
 my affairs." He smiled sourly, and twirled his black moustaches. 
 " Ha ! and what sort of being is the officer who commands on the 
 way to Albuquerque. I hope he -will halt at La Nava: I left a 
 sweetheart there twelve months ago, "with whom I must leave my 
 card in passing. But the officer, — is he a jovial trump, that will 
 drink and play deep — stride, swagger, and swear hke a Hector ? " 
 
 " None of ours are much given to any of these habits," answered 
 Claude, drily, " The Honourable Louis Lisle commands." 
 
 "Lisle ! An ensign, is he not ? A pretty boy with yellow curls, 
 more like the Duchess de Choiseul's page than a belted soldier ? 
 Ah ! we shall get on famously. Such a chit ■will not cross me in my 
 amusements with these don Spaniards. De ]\Iesmai, of Quinsay, 
 under the orders of a young Scots sub-lieutenant. Ho, ho ! exceUent. 
 But, body o' the Pope ! tell me, monsieur, am I really to be kept in 
 the castle of Albuquerque ? " 
 
 "Captain de Mesmai, I have already told you," replied the 
 adjutant, turning to go. 
 
 ' Then permit me to acquaint you, monsieur, that such treatment 
 is tacitly saying you doubt that sacred word of honour which I 
 
 Jledged to Ensign Ronald Stuart, when, as an officer and gentleman, 
 surrendered myself to him on parole. This being the case, that 
 parole is dissolved ; and I consider myself at liberty to effect my 
 escape where, when, and how I please, without dishonour." 
 
 " As you choose," answered Claude quickly, " But remember, you 
 will probably be shot in the attempt; or, if retaken, will be degraded 
 to the rank of a private dragoon — what in your service you call a 
 simple cavalier. Eemember, monsieur, to be on the alert at day- 
 break ; you will hear the sound of the w'arning-pipes, as they pass 
 under the piazzas of your billet." 
 
 TV'ith Lisle's detachment De Mesmai departed next morning for 
 Albuquerque, but by some means effected his escape on the route 
 there. He afterwards fell into the hands of some of the guerillas ot 
 Don Salvador de Zagala's band, by whopi he was treated with less 
 kindness and courtesy than he had received at Merida, aaid with 
 whom I must for the present leave him. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAS. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE HEIGHTS OF ALBUEEA. — THE CEOSS OP SANTIAGO. 
 
 On the niglit of the lltb, or rather the morning of the 12th of 
 June, Honald was awakened from sleep by an officer, who occupied 
 the same billet, entering his chamber half-dressed. 
 
 "Eouse, Stuart," said he; "something strange has happened. 
 There is a noise and bustle over the whole town." 
 
 " I have heard nothing yet Kennedy," answered the other, spring- 
 ing out of bed. and with military instinct donning his regimentals 
 hastily in the aark. " You have aroused me from the most pleasant 
 nap I have enjoyed for these six months past." 
 Hark ! there go the pipes." 
 
 " 'Tis not the turn-out. What can be the matter ? 'tis still two 
 hours from daybreak. "\Ye shall be roughing it again with D'Erlon 
 or Drouetj I suppose." 
 
 " The pipes have ceased," said Kennedy, throwing open the case- 
 ment, where the voices of the musicians were heard engaged in a 
 quarrel. 
 
 " PI aw the warning, Hector Macfarlane, you very great sumph ! " 
 exclaimed Macdonuil-dhu, the piper-major, in great wrath. " Was 
 it Hoggil nam Bo — the pibroch of your ain mushroom name, I 
 desu'ed you to plaw ? " 
 
 " Oich, prut trut ! " replied Macfarlane fiercely. "I do suppose 
 tat ta lads o' Lochsluai are as good and as pretty men, and bear as 
 auld a name as ony Macdonald o' the Isles. Piaoul ! " 
 
 " Hoch, Got tam ! it's mutiny and repellion this ! Did ye move 
 ver hand to yer dirk, Macfarlane ? " asked Macdonald, furiously. 
 ' Pid ye grip yer dirk to threaten me ? " 
 
 " It's a far cry to Lochowe. Gin you and I strode there, ye would 
 na cock your feather or craw sae crouse," said the other coolly, 
 "It's piper-matchor you are, and sorrow tak the boor that Hector 
 Macfarlane, the son of Eori-bheg, has to obey your orders ! " The 
 angry reply of the non-commissioned officer was lost in the sound of 
 the war-pipe, the drones of which jMacfarlane threw over his 
 shoulder, and strode down the street swelling Avith Highland indig- 
 nation, while he made Mcrida ring far and wide to the tune of 
 Johnnie Cope, the warning for the march, while the drums, bugles, 
 and trumpets of other regiments, horse and foot, were heard in 
 various parts of the echoing city. 
 
 "Holloa! Serjeant Macdonald, what is all this noise and uproar 
 about ? " asked Stuart. 
 
 " I ken nae mair than an unpom paim, sir," replied the leader of 
 the pipers ; " put it's a tammed cauld morning to rouse puir chields 
 'frae their plankets. There is a soughing meeserable Hanoverian 
 wind pla-vving frae the east, sharp enough to skin our pare houghs, 
 and be tammed tilt ! And that trunken loon, Macfarlane, has sa« 
 mony quegsfu' under his belt, that he took the dorts, and in spite o' 
 a' orders blew the pibroch o' Locksloy. A penny thing for him — the 
 son o' Eori-bheg, a ri«»ver, hanged at Crieff for liftin'^ to speak in 
 defiance at me J" 
 
232 TILE HOM.^JNCE OF WAK, 
 
 TLo \oice of the adjutant bawling for bis horse was now heard, a* 
 he issued from under the piazzas, attended by an orderly witli a 
 lighted lantern, to collect the reports and get the companies mustered. 
 The men were already falling ni at the alarm-post, and the musket- 
 butts were heard clattering heavily on the pavement, as one by one 
 they took their places in the ranks. 
 
 " Stuart, don your fighting jacket ; pack up your best scarlets for a 
 ball when we reach Madrid," cried Claude, as he passed the window. 
 " We ai-e about to show Mr. Soult the point of war, 
 
 • Gm he meets us in the rarrning:,' 
 
 as the song says. A despatch ha.s within this hour arrived from 
 "Wellington, and we are ordered off to the front forthwith, to pre- 
 vent Estremadura being invaded. Turn out as soon as you can ; 
 tlie corps are nearly all mustered in our Flaza de Armas. Ho, 
 there ! orderly drummer ; beat for the coverers ! Fall in, covering 
 Serjeants ! " 
 
 The grey dayhght was now beginning to make objects visible. 
 The sky was clear, and of a cold and dark blue, and a chilling blast 
 s^^■ept through the dull and gloomy streets, where all was martial 
 bustle and preparation. "While dressing himself "^nth more haste 
 than care, Stuart heard the voice of Cameron and the adjutant 
 ordering and directing the serjeant-majoi- ; he in turn bawled to the 
 Serjeants of companies, who Avere vociferously calling the rolls, in 
 which an immense number of Jocks, and Tams, and Donalds 
 followed each other in succession. All was commotion and " hurry- 
 skurry," amid which De Costa's brigade of Spanish horse galloped 
 past, brandishing their swords, and shouting " Arma ! arma ! Viva I 
 viva ! " with might and main. General Long's brigade of British 
 followed, but in characteristic silence. 
 
 To prevent Marshal Soult from invading Estremadura from the 
 neighbouring province. Sir Rowland Hill marched his brigades of 
 horse and foot to Sancho Perez, collecting from Zafra and other 
 places on his march all the Spanish and Portuguese troops he could 
 bring together to meet the enemy, who advanced towards him in 
 great strength, plundering and destroying the grain and vines on 
 their route. At Zafra they attacked and defeated an advanced corps 
 of Spanish dragoons, commanded by the Conde Penne Yillamur. 
 Animated by this success, Soult continued to press forward at the 
 head of thirty-eight or fort)- thousand men ; and Sir Eowland Hill 
 prudently fell back upon the heights of Albuera with his division, 
 twenty-two thousand strong. There he took up a position, which 
 every means were taken to strengthen by the erection of trenches* 
 breast-works, and traverses, at the formation of which fatigue-parties 
 wTought day and night. Fresh troops joined them here daily, and 
 Eonald heard, mth considerable pleasure, that Don Alvaro's troop 
 of lances were expected tc join the Spanish brigade. Alvaro's com- 
 mand was a sort of independent troop, unattached to any regiment, 
 like les compagnies franches, the free troops or companies, in the old 
 French service. The second division occupied this intrenched posi- 
 tion twelve days, awaiting the appearance of Soult, who advanced 
 no nearer than Santa Martha, a town about a long day's march dis- 
 tant. He showed no disposition to fight a second battle of Albueru, 
 the ground being so strong and its occupiers so determined, that the 
 
TUE EOMANCE OF WAE. 233 
 
 Heights could only have been captured with immense loss, — if indeed. 
 Soult could have carried them at all. On the first night after the 
 position was taken up, a blunder of Evan's caused no ordinary com- 
 motion throughout the camp. 
 
 At the base of the heights, where a stream called the Albuera 
 runs, he was posted as an advanced sentinel in a most wild and 
 dreary spot. A wide and desolate plain, stretching away towards 
 Santa Martha, lay before him ; black ridges like waves of ink rose 
 behind; and all around were scattered the ghastly remnants of the 
 battle fought on the ground twelve mouths previously. The night 
 was gloomy and dark, the sky was starless, and not a sound broke 
 the solemn stillness of the hour, save the Albuera, brawling and 
 gurgling along that deep and savage-looking ravine, by means of 
 which tlie French had out-flanked the Spaniards. 
 
 Excepting the murmur of the mountain-torrent, all was silent as 
 the tomb ; not a blade of grass was stirring, and those gloomy fanta- 
 sies, so apt to fill the strong imagination of a Highlander, arose 
 appallingly before Evan. Anxiously and intently he had fixed his 
 eyes on some shrubbery or tall weeds, which appeared in the twilight 
 afar off". These his heated imagination transformed into battalions 
 of foot and squadrons of horse, advancing stealthily over the plain. 
 He fired his musket, and retired on the main body of his picquet, 
 which lay mthin an abbatis composed of cork-trees, felled and inter- 
 twined for a breastwork around them. The whole camp rose in 
 arms, expecting instantly to be attacked, but the dawn revealed the 
 cause of Evan's mistake. A few days after Soult had taken posses- 
 sion of Santa Martha, llonald had the command of one of the 
 i)icquets thrown out in that direction. All were on the alert, as the 
 enemy were continually expected to advance from their cantonments. 
 The picquet, which consisted of thirty Highlanders, occupied the 
 summit of a rocky eminence ; where, piling their arms, they lay 
 down on the green sward to watch the sun, as it verged towards the 
 western horizon, glittering on the pohshed arms of solitary sentinels 
 and videttes posted at equal distances along the banks of the rocky 
 river, and in front of that dark forest from the bosom of which its 
 waters came. A Spanish sunset is a glorious scene in June, but 
 which of the Highlanders there would have exchanged the Scottish 
 pine or purple heath, for the olive-grove or clustering grapes of 
 Spain ? E/Ouald was seated in a grassy nook, employed in conning 
 over the pages of the Madrid Gaceta, when he was roused by the 
 trampling of hoofs and clang of harness. He sprang up in time to 
 .see the shining helmets of a hundred Erench cuirassiers flashing in 
 the sunbeams, as they issued successively from a deep and narrow 
 gorge on his left, into which they had contrived to penetrate and 
 advance unseen, — evading thus the sentinels of the other picquets. 
 
 " Death and fury ! we are lost men. Ou. retreat is cut off! Stand 
 to your arms," cried he, drawing his sword. " Form circle round the 
 face of the rock, — show your front to them ! Ee cool, and steadily 
 take your aim. Keep up your fire till the cavalry picquets in front 
 of the wood ride to our rescue. Ha ! the gallant 9th are in their 
 saddles already." 
 
 With coolness and precision ins orders were obeyed. The brave 
 little band, aware of the power of foot over horse, formed circle 
 round the eminence, and opened a close and well-directed fire, before 
 
234 THE ROMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 which the cuirassiers were compelled to waver, recoil, and stay f<MP 
 some minutes their headlong charge, being impeded and entancled 
 with falling men and horses ; and the former, if not dead when tney 
 fell, were soon trodden to death by the hoofs of the rear rank. 
 
 " Charge !" cried the officer, a dashing fellow, who led them on. 
 
 ^\Chargez en qv.eu la troKpc !" and, firing their pistols, they came 
 furiously forward sword in hand, making the turf shake as they 
 thundered along. It was a critical moment for the little band ! A 
 sharp twinge in his left shoulder informed lionald that a pistol-shot 
 had taken cllect there, depriving him of the use of his arm, and 
 several of his men lay killed and Avounded among the feet of their 
 comrades, who could not help feeling a little dismayed at the over- 
 whelming number of their opponents. 
 
 " Keep up your fire, brave Highlanders ! stand fast, true Scots- 
 men ! " cried Stuart, brandishing his claymore. "Aim deliberately, 
 and level low ; strike below the corslet. Courage, my boys ! 'tis all 
 for our lives. They will kill, as they cannot capture. 'Hold your 
 ground ! keep shoulder to shoulder, and give them the bayonet at 
 the face of the rocks. Hurrah ! Vv'ell done, my own brave comrades! 
 We shall be rescued instantly." 
 
 The cuirassiers advanced in a semicircle boldly enough ; but the 
 steady fire of their opponents caused them again to recoil. 
 
 "Vive VlEmpereur! Chateavjleur, Cliateavjleur 1 reto^irnez a la 
 eltarge. Charge !" cried the officer again, and again the serried 
 ranks came rushing on Tvith renevred impetuosity ; but they were 
 once more driven back, leaving the ground stroT^Ti \\\t\\ \;Tithing 
 men and steeds. A few resolutely pressed fonvard in the rashness 
 of their daring, and struck at the defenders of the rock across the 
 ridge of deadly bayonets which protruded over it. But they were 
 at once destroyed, shot and bayoneted. One soldier, who Avas cut 
 across the face, clubbed his musket and dashed out the brains of his 
 adversary. And one powerful French dragoon grasped the serjeant 
 of the picquet and attempted to drag him down by main strength 
 from the rock ; but Ronald saved him, by plunging his sword 
 through the corslet of the Erenchman, who tumbled from his saddle, 
 and was dragged away doAMi the ravine of the Albuera by his 
 affrighted horse. 
 
 The rock was again free, but not entirely so, as the cuirassiers, 
 who were reduced to half their original number, were preparing to 
 renew the attack, wliich appeared to be general along the whole chain 
 of outposts, as the sound of firing was heard in every direction. 
 The picquets of the 39th and 66th regiments, on the right and left, 
 were retiring rearv/ard on the heights, firing as they fell back, on 
 bodies of the enemy's cavalry, which were advancing over the plaiK 
 Honald beheld all the other out-picquets retiring in safety. His 
 alone had been cut off, and by means of that accursed ravine ! His 
 little party were now reduced to sixteen effective men, and he gave 
 them and himself up for lost. But aid was nigh : part of De Costa's 
 cavalry, lying in front of the wood, were ordered forward by Sir 
 Rowland Hill to his rescue. Onward they came with the speed of 
 the wind, bearing death on the points of their spears. Ronald beheld 
 with dehght that it was the troop of Alvaro de Villa Franca, who 
 had just joined De Costa, which was moving to his aid. As they 
 came on, they raised the old battle-cry of Spain. " Saji Jago, y 
 derra HJspana ! " was the shout, as they swept gallantly on in a 
 
THE ^vOMA^'CE OF WAE. 255 
 
 compact ina!?s,— horse to horse, helms and corslets glancing, plumes 
 and pennons waving. 
 
 " Senora Beatificada strengthen our spears ! " cried Alvaro, rush- 
 jmg forward -vnth his uplifted sword. "Follow me, Montesa ■ Saint 
 James and Close Spain ! Stand, Prenchmen, if ye be iruo cavaliers .' 
 Yiita ! San Jago, y cierra JEspana ! Cerrar con el enemigos !'' 
 
 The lances of the front rank sunk to the rest, while those of the 
 rear protruded over the casques of the former, and onward still they 
 pressed, shaking the very rock from which the rescued picquet 
 viewed this new conflict. Not a whit dismayed at the number or 
 character of their opponents, the undaunted cuirassiers met them 
 half-way, and a most gallant hand-to-hand conliict ensued. The 
 scene when the adversaries first met was a perfe."!t combat in the style 
 of the days of chivalry, — the realization of a scene of romance. The 
 proud battle-cry of the Spaniards, answered by the '_' live I'Empe- 
 reur !" of the French, — the crash of lances, splintering on casque 
 and corslet, — the clash of blades, — the tramp of hoofs, — the dust, — 
 the blood, — the groans and shrieks, — the curses, — the spurring and 
 prancing, as the ]>artie3 intermingled, — the bro^^Ti uniforms and the 
 blue, — the steel helmets and the brass, — the red plumes and the 
 black, — the tall spears and uplifted sabres Hashing in the setting sun, 
 ■■ — the gaudy standard of the Spaniards, — the eagled guidon of the 
 French, fluttering and wa\-ing above the conflict, — the dead and the 
 wounded trodden heedlessly below, — fonned altogether a most 
 exciting and soul-stirring scene. 
 
 Alvaro distinguished himself in no ordinary degree. The long 
 horse-hair on his crest was seen dancing up and doAvn amidst the 
 thickest of the melee, and whenever his sword descended, a saddle 
 was emptied by the blow. But Ilonald could not remain long to 
 witness the valour of his friend, although he eagerly "wished to do so. 
 He drew off the remnant of his picquet, and, crossing the Albuera, 
 retired into the trenches of the camp, vtdiere of course the whole 
 division Avere under arms. 
 
 The outposts v/ore driven in on all sides : and satisfied with this 
 display, Soult brought off his cavalrj^, who had suffered severely in 
 the contest. Ronald's wound Avas found to be severe ; but the shoul- 
 der-blade had escaped fracture, and as soon as it -was dressed, he 
 rejoined his company with his arm slung. On the disappearance ot 
 the French, the troops piled arms, and all was again the same as 
 before, save the plain in front of Albuera, which was strewn Anth 
 dead and wounded, and other relics of the skirmish. 
 
 As Stuart sat in liis tent, A^Titing an account of the day's fray for 
 Lochisla,_the door became darkened, and Don Alvaro'. entering, 
 gra.sped him by the hand. He was pale with fatigue, and E oiiald knew' 
 by the increased gravity and sorrow imprinted on his features, thai 
 he was aware of his sister's death, and that it lay heavy on his heart 
 
 "Amigo mio" said he, " a minute later had seen your brave pic- 
 quet cut to pieces. We drove back these gay cuirassiers in glorious 
 style, fighting, like true soldados, at point of sword and spear every 
 inch of the way " 
 
 " I have a thousand thanks to return you, Don Alvaro, for the 
 dauntless manner in which you rode to the rescue. These cuirassier* 
 were tough fellows, and fought wi+h a bravery equalled only by thai 
 of their opponents." 
 
 " Stay, senor • there is another subject on which I would rathei 
 
386 THE KOXIANCE Oi- WAB. 
 
 converse with you, than of our hourly occupation of fighting," 
 rcpUed Villa Franca, as he cast aside his leather gauntlets, and 
 imclasping his helmet, wiped the dust from his swarthy face and 
 dark moustaches. " Catalina, my idolized sister, — T would ask you 
 about her ? " 
 
 Stuart's heart beat quicker. " You have then heard ? " said he 
 sorrowl'ully. 
 
 " Yes, senor ; from Ignacio El Pastor, a priest of Estremadura, I 
 learned the terrible intelligence. I fell in with him near Badajoz. 
 when bearing your letter to my cousin and wife Donna Inesella. I 
 took the liberty of opening it, and making myself master of its con- 
 tents ; and thus became aware of my sister's dishonour and deplorable 
 murder. Don Ronald Stuart, there is something very singular in 
 all that affair ; and I nmst request that you will give me a detailed 
 account of the -whole occurrence, without the omission of a single 
 circumstance, for the truth of which I hold your honour, as a 
 cavalier and soldier." 
 
 '■' How is this, Senor Alvaro ? " replied Ronald^ alike surprised and 
 displeased at the tone and bearing of the Spaniard. "I consider it 
 next to an impossibility that you should suspect me of anything 
 Avrong, or of leaving anything undone." 
 
 " Ayiiigo mio, your pardon. I spoke somewhat hastily ; but when 
 I mention the tumult of this day's conflict, and the excitement which 
 the recollection of my dear and beautiful sister arouses within me, 
 I have a sufficient apology." He leant against the pole of the tent 
 and covered his face with his hands, betraying an emotion in which 
 Eonald could not but participate. "Pardon me, Senor Stuart," 
 continued the cavalier, " you loved my poor sister too well to deserve 
 that I should judge harshly of you ; but say on, and tell all you know 
 of her dreadful death." 
 
 The Spaniard stretched himself on the turf floor of the tent, and 
 resting on his helmet, leant his head upon his hand, and fixing his 
 keen dark eyes upon Ronald's, listened to the account given by the 
 latter of her death. He began with his meeting her at Almarez, and 
 without concealing a single sentiment which had animated them, or 
 an observation which had passed, he continued the narrative do'.ni 
 to the hour of her burial at the convent of Jarciejo. But both 
 became greatly excited as the tale proceeded. Love, sorrow, and 
 indignation caused Ronald's features to flush, and his brow to knit ; 
 but those of the hot-brained Spaniard became black with fury, and 
 convulsed with the excess of those passions to ■^^■hicll his tongue could 
 not give utterance., He wept and groaned, and grasped the hilt of 
 his poniard energetically. When Ronald ceased, he started from 
 the ground, with his large dark eyes flashing like those of an incarnate 
 demon. 
 
 " iModerate your transports, Don Alvaro ; be calm, I beseech you ! " 
 said Stuart, grasping him by the arm. 
 
 " Cavalier, your story has driven me to frenzy," cried he, through 
 his clenched teeth. " You cannot have loved Catalina as she deserved 
 to be loved, otherwise you would not be so calm in such a terrible 
 hour as this. Excuse me, senor ; alas ! I know not what I utter. 
 You come of a northern people, less prompt to ire and vengeance 
 than the fiery Spaniard. But much as you may have heard of Spanish 
 Tengeance," said he, becoming suddenly calm, "all the tales that 
 
THE ROMANCB OF WAK. 237 
 
 Jiave been told of it since the days of King Bamba or Eoderick the 
 Goth will fall immeasurably short of mine. I have left no means 
 untried to capture Narvaez Cifuentes, but where the ban-dog lurks 
 at present I know not. But the hour of retribution will yet come, 
 and my fury will burst on his devoted brow like a thunderbolt." 
 He sunk upon his knees, and ratified a solemn vow of vengeance by 
 kissing the bare blade and cross-hilt of his stiletto. " Senor," said 
 he. " is it the custom in your native laud to swear across the dagger ? " 
 
 •' In the days of my grandsire it was; and there are yet some among 
 our Scottish hills who consider none now binding, unless sworn over 
 the unsheathed dirk." 
 
 " 'Tis well : it shows the military spirit of your people. Conform 
 to the present customs of Spain, and to those of your northern 
 ancestors. Swear vnth me, cavaher." 
 
 Promptly as Alvaro could have wished, Ronald unsheathed the 
 long Highland dirk with which he had lately equipped himself. It 
 was a handsome weapon set with jewels, and accoutred Avith knife 
 and fork, like the regimental dirks now worn by every Highland 
 officer : and across it he vowed to aid Alvaro in delivering Cifuentes 
 up to vengeance. 
 
 " This is well. I will now be calm," said the cavalier in a tone of 
 satisfaction. " You may have some scruples about slaying the dog 
 with youi" own hand ; but deliver him over to the first alcalde, and 
 he will reserve him for the fury of Alvaro of Villa Franca." 
 
 " Such a reservation may do, should I meet him in camp or city ; 
 but woe to him should we forgather in any desert spot,— my sword 
 and his heart will not be long asunder." 
 
 " Spoken like a true hidalgo, who needs no friend save his own 
 right hand. Our Lady del PUar ! slay me this earthly fiend, and I 
 vnW consider you as much my brother as if my sister, my sublime 
 Catalina, had wedded you at the altar. Although, in truth, to be 
 frank with you, I would rather she had bestowed her hand on her 
 cousin, the Conde of Truxillo, a brave cavalier, who has loved her 
 long and dearly. What now, Pedro ? Do you bring me the list of 
 killed and wounded ? " said he, as Serjeant Gomez stood erect at the 
 triangular door of the tent, and brought his right hand up to the 
 peak of his helmet, in a sweeping mihtary salute. 
 
 " The Yalencian rogue, senor cavalier ; how are we to dispose of 
 him?" 
 
 " Ha ! I had forgotten. Eight, my true soldado. A base goat- 
 herd, senor," said he, turning to Eonald, "a most contemptible 
 traitor, who guided up the ravine those hundred cuirassiers, who so 
 nearly cut your picquet off. Pedro captured the rogue after the 
 skirmish. He is a notorious spy and traitor. "Where is he now, 
 Pedro?" 
 
 " Tied hard and fast, like a Merino sheep, under the belly of my 
 Andalusian," answered Pedro with a grin. 
 
 " You had better turn him over to the provost-marshal of the 
 camp," said Ronald ; " he will give him his deserts from the branch 
 of the nearest tree. The rascal ! by his treachery to his country my 
 company has lost fourteen gallant hearts, and I have won this 
 wound." 
 
 " As he is a prisoner of mine," said Alvaro, " I will dispose of him, 
 and save senor, the provost-marshal, any trouble in the matter. 
 
238 ' THE HOMAN CE OF WAH. 
 
 De?ire a file of troopers to dismount and load their carbines,— no ! 
 that were a •waste of King Ferdinand's powder. Ilun your dagger 
 into his throat, Pedro, and see that you strike deep ; then fling his 
 carcase over the rocks into the Albuera, and let it rot in that same 
 ravine that he knows so well." 
 
 Pedro disappeared, and almost instantly a prolonged shriek, whic? 
 startled the whole camp, announced that the unscrupulous sargente 
 had obeyed his orders to the very letter. Ronald was about to express 
 some abhorrence of this summary mode of execution, when he wae 
 interrupted. 
 
 " Villa Franca," said a handsome Spanish cavalry officer, about 
 twenty years of age, appearing at the door of the tent ; " the Condd 
 Penne Villamur wishes to see you. Our brigade and De Costa's 
 have been ordered to the front, as an advanced post. Such are the 
 orders of Sir Eowland Hill. The conde would speak with you with- 
 out delay, and our trumpets will sound ' to horse' in an hour." 
 
 " 'Tis well, Lorenzo. I am in a true fighting mood to-day, and our 
 troop of lancers are in glorious order. The IVlarquess de Montesa of 
 Valencia," said Alvaro, introducing the stranger to llonald, " the 
 senior lieutenant of my lances." 
 
 " A sharp skirmish that was, in which we were engaged a short 
 time ago, senor," said Montesa \vith a laugh. He was one of those 
 gay fellows who laugh at everything. "We appear to have shared 
 alike in the misfortunes of war," he added, pointing to his left arm, 
 which Avas bound up in his red Spanish scarf. 
 
 " Ha, marquess ! your presence reminds me of what other thoughts 
 had nearly driven from my memory. " Look you, Senor Don Ronald," 
 said Alvaro, displaying a golden cross suspended by a red and yellow 
 riband. "VYe have been commissioned by my relative, Alfonso de 
 Conquesta, Grand-master of the military order of Saint James of 
 Spain, to invest you with this badge, and create you a knight -com- 
 panion of our most honourable order, as a reward for your bravery 
 at Almarez, accounts of which have been fully blazoned forth by the 
 Gacetas of Madrid and other places." 
 
 Stuart, who had longed vAi\\ all the ardour of a young soldier for 
 some of those military decorations with which the bosoms of foreign 
 troops are covered, received the cross with a pleasure which he could 
 not conceal. At that time neither medal nor star was to be seen m 
 our service, save among the officers of the 15th Light Dragoons, who 
 received from the Emperor of Germany an " Order of Merit" for 
 their singular bravery at Villiers-en-Couche, in 1794. 
 
 " A most beautiful cross indeed, Don Alvaro," said Stuart ! " but 
 our mess are droll fellows, and I shall be sadly quizzed about it." 
 
 " A badge such as this should raise other sentiments than those of 
 ridicule in the minds of honourable cavaliers," observed Montesa. 
 " You will find it a star for the ladies' eyes to follow. Our Spanish 
 damsels know well, that the tried and proved soldier alone wins the 
 cross and riband of St. James." 
 
 " The marquess has your diploma of knighthood in his sabre-tache ; 
 he will explain to you the rules of the order. Meanwhile, I shall 
 attend the noble conde," said Alvaro, and departed. The diploma, a 
 parchment containing the oath, the rules of the order, and bearing 
 its seal appended, was written in Spanish and Latin, and Eonald 
 ■was a Uttle startled at the tenour of the vow. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 239 
 
 " 'Tis no small honour the iioble and venerahle Grand-master con- 
 fers upon you, scnor," said Montesii, after reading over the document. 
 " The order of Saint James is one of the most ancient and cliivalric 
 in Spain. It was instituted, in the year 1170, by Ferdinand II., king 
 of Leon and Galicia. It is conferred solely on hidalgos of the highest 
 rank, very seldom on foreigners, and never yet on a heretic." 
 
 " I am afraid, marquess, your Spanish prejudices v/ill incline you 
 to class me Avith the latter." 
 
 " I trust that, although as true a Catholic as ever kissed cross, I 
 have more liberality, and the Grand-master is too anxious to enrol 
 you as a gallant soldier in the order, to inquire much about vou)' 
 tenets, which in truth are doubtful," said Montesa laughing, if I 
 may believe the reports of my fair cousin, the abbess of Santa Cruz, 
 Religious inquiries may be dispensea with, but for form's sake the 
 vows are indispensable ; and when Alvaro returns, we will examine 
 and sign the diploma sent hither by Don Alfonso." 
 
 " The vows ; I should be glad to know them. By your cross, I 
 perceive that you are a knight of the order." 
 
 " Every Spanish officer of distinction is," replied Montesa, with a 
 proud smile. " We are supposed to observe the rules of San Austin, 
 and vow obedience, conjugal fidelity to our wives — clemonlo ! and 
 service to all ladies. Things easily sworn to," added he, laughing 
 heartily, " but hard to keep in Spain. By San Jago ! I have broken 
 them a score of times. Senor, you knovv' that vows and restrictions 
 which suited the steel-clad knights of Eerdinand of Leon, will 
 scarcely suit the cigar-smoking and dashing officers of Murillo or 
 Don Carlos D'Espagna's divisions. Our Lady ! we would as soon 
 swear to the vows of the bare-footed Franciscan. But you will have 
 to make it appear that your ancestors have been, at least, hidalgos or 
 gentlemen for four generations." 
 
 '' Eor sixteen, if you choose, marquess ; but I should need the 
 assistance of some northern bard to unravel the matter. However, 
 my colonel will resolve that point for you." 
 
 "And that in your veins there runs not the base blood of Jew, 
 Morisco, or heretic ; and that you have never been called in question 
 by the late Inquisition, — the devil confound it !" 
 
 " To these I may freely swear No ! on blade and bible." 
 
 " You see by the diploma," continued Montesa, with a droll smile, 
 " that knights in their novitiate are obliged to tug an oar in tho 
 king's galleys for six months, to harden them to labour ; and then 
 live for six months more in a Carthusian monastery, fasting and 
 praying, being the while scantily supplied with black bread, and libe- 
 rally with water to wash away tiieir sins and enormities." 
 
 " The deuce, marquess ! These disagreeable prelimmaries "svill 
 scarcely suit me ; and I fear I must forego the high honour intended 
 me by the venerable Grand-master." 
 
 "Not at all, senor,'' replied Montesa. ""Were these parts of the 
 military noviciate to be rigorously exacted, how very few of our 
 Spanish caballeros of Madrid would display their crosses on the gay 
 Prados. By Santiago ! I would see De Conquesta and his order at 
 the bottom of the Mediterranean, before I would submit to such 
 degradation. Besides, senor, if twelve months' campaigning here 
 will not harden us, nothing on earth will." 
 
 " How then, marquess ?" 
 
-40 THE E0MA2\CE OF WAE. 
 
 " A few doubloons paid to the grand-treasurer, at Cadiz, where at 
 present Don Alfonso resides, will procure you a dispensation iTom 
 these, and all \nll then be right. Ha ! here conies Villa Franca. You 
 have made despatch with the conde." 
 
 " Mont<?sa," said Alvaro, ent<3ring, "our trumpets will blow 'boot 
 aud saddle' instantly. The Spanish horse will relieve General Long's 
 brigade of the out-picquet duty on the Santa Martha road. Wc 
 move the moment the sun dips behind the heights of Albuera." 
 
 " You will probably see some fighting before dawn." 
 
 " True, Senor Stuart ; and perhaps a few saddles will be emptied 
 before the bugle sounds the reveille .-" replied Montesa, whose own 
 was doomed to be one of them. " Ho ! there go our trumpeters 
 already. Alvaro, we had better invest our friend with liLs cross ; 
 tUspensing, of course, with the mummery of monks and godfathers. 
 Uiavolo .' we ought to have had a fair lady to clasp on his belt and 
 affix the star, u ould we were near the convent of Jarciejo !" 
 
 " The lady must be dispensed ^^•ith likewise. Hark I the conde 
 ; iready blows 'to horse !' He is somewhat impatient^ truly. Lend 
 me your sword, marquess; I cannot bestow the knighthood with 
 mine, as the cross-guard was broken off in our late fandango with 
 the enemy. Let us seek the tent of Don Juan Cameron ; and when 
 we have been satisfied on some points of lineage, amigo mio, amidst 
 the officers of your own brave regiment, you shall become our sworn 
 knight-companion." 
 
 " A most unceremonious instalment," said Montesa, " but war and 
 necessity must be pleaded for our excuse ; and the knight that is 
 created in a tent, is more likely to prove a true cavalier than he who 
 receives his spurs in the carpeted palace or decorated chapel." 
 
 In Fassifern's tent, Stuart was duly dubbed knight of Saint James, 
 having, as such, the privilege of wearing liis bonnet in the presence 
 of the king of Spain. As soon as the hasty ceremony was over, the 
 Spaniards sprung to their saddles and departed, leaving Ronald with 
 the cross on his breast, amid a ch'cle of his brother-officers, who. 
 with their congratulations, threw in sundry dry jokes, 
 
 For many months afterw-ards he was known among them as " the 
 knight of Santiago," seldom receiving any other name except when 
 on duty. Jokes must be furnished for mess and parade, and Eonald's 
 cross was a standing one. He became, however, a greater favourite 
 Avith the colonel and regiment. He was esteemed by the officers and 
 beloved by the soldiers, who would^ they emphatically said, " storm 
 hell's yetts to serve him," Than ^ritish soldiers, none know better 
 how to appreciate the good quaUties of an officer who treats them 
 well ; and their love, esteem, and confidence, which cannot fail being 
 of service to the officer himself, are easily gained by kindness and 
 affability. Nor was Saint James's cross the only piece of good fortune 
 taat Ronald obtained. He had returned to his tent, where he sat 
 finishing his letter for Lochisla, and regretting bitterly that he was 
 
 .nable to send another for Inchavon, when Alister came in with a 
 newspaper in each hand. 
 
 " I congratulate you. Sir Knight of Santiago de Compostella ; the 
 saints are propitious to you certainly, or the Horse-Guards at least. 
 Lisle has sent me these papers up from the castle of Belem, from 
 which place he was just about to set out on his return with a detach- 
 ment 01 convalescents. Look you here." 
 
THE KOMANCE OF WAE. 341 
 
 " What ! any more orders of knighthood ?" 
 
 " Something more substantial. ' War-office, 24th. — no, 28th Foot, 
 Lieut. Dalbiac to be captain, vice Paget, killed in action. Ensign 
 Stuart, from the 92nd Highlanders, to be lieutenant, vicb Dalbiac.' " 
 
 " Ah ! is it really possible ?" exclaimed Ronald, springing up. 
 
 " Quite, and a most lucky dog you are. You may thank Almarez 
 and Sir Rowland Hill for this. He recommended you for promo- 
 tion, you know." 
 
 " The 28th is an English regiment—" 
 
 " The gallant slashers." 
 
 " I should be sorry to leave the Highlanders— one of our most- 
 dashing national regiments." 
 
 " Your taste appears to be consulted admirably. Look at this 
 Gazette in the next paper. ' 92nd Highlanders. — Brevet-major Colin 
 Campbell to be major, vice Macdonald, appointed to the 8th Garrison 
 Battalion ; Lieut. Macdonald to be captain, vice Campbell ; Lieut. 
 Ronald Stuart, from the 28th foot, to be lieutenant, vice the Honour- 
 able Sholto Douglas, who exchanges,' " 
 
 " Excellent ! " exclaimed Stuart, as they shook hands. '"' I shall be 
 with you still : Cameron has planned this matter, surely. But this 
 Honourable Sholto, — I have never had the pleasure of seeing him." 
 
 " Oh ! he has been on the staff in Ireland for these three years 
 past. A drawing-room soldier, that has no idea of bivouacs and 
 tough ration beef — fording rivers mi to the neck, and having forced 
 marches of forty miles. Sholto has kept himself clear of these matters, 
 and is, consequently, no favourite with the chief, — Cameron, I mean : 
 the warning he gave me about that title at San Pedro must not be 
 forgotten. I A\dsh you joy heartily, Ronald, notwithstanding you 
 are promoted over my head. However, I am near the top of the 
 ensigns, and the next engagement may provide for some of the 
 seniors. We must wet the new commission to-night in glorious 
 style ; and hark ! firing, by Jove ! The out-picquets are engaged ! 
 Soult is at it again." Drawing back the door of the tent, they saw 
 the flashes of musketry and gleam of steel appear on the Santa 
 Martha road, and wreaths of white smoke curling up among the 
 rocks and broken ground between, showing that a running skirmish 
 liad commenced. 
 
 The noise of the firing became more rapid and loud, and then died 
 away ; and the Spanish cavalry were seen sword in hand pursuing 
 the French at full gallop. The Conde Penne Villamur had repelled 
 the attack of the French cuirassiers, and having defeated them, rashly 
 left his ground in pursuit along the road to Santa Martha ; where, 
 falling into an ambush of several squadrons of horse, his Spaniards 
 were almost all cut to pieces. Don Alvaro, at the head of his lancers, 
 charged madly through and through them, and brought off the conde, 
 after a most desperate and bloody conflict fought hand to hand with 
 sword and spear, amid which the gay and brave young Marquess of 
 Montesa was slain, being " cloven to the teeth, through steel and 
 bone," by Louis Chateaufleur, a major of cuirassiers, mentioned by 
 De Mesmai in preceding chapters. Alvaro was so severely wounded 
 by a sword-thrust between the joints of his breast and l3ack-plate, 
 that he was rendered unserviceable for some time ; and procurmg 
 leave, departed for Tdanlia-a-Yclha, where Donna Inesella stil! 
 resided, 
 
 r. R 
 
UB THE BOM.LNCE OF WAB. 
 
 OHAPTEE, XXXIII. 
 
 THE MAKCn TO TOLEDO. 
 
 Sir llowLAND Hill, finding that the French marshal lacked 
 determination to attack his strong position at Alhuera, resolved to 
 assail his lesjions in their quarters at Santa Martha, for Avhich place 
 the whole division marched on the morning of the 1st July, The 
 enemy retired as usual before him, their reai^-guard skirmishing wth 
 the cavalry advance of the British, who suffered some loss at forcing 
 the passage of the Guadacia, upon the ford of which the French brought 
 their flying artillery to bear ; and against Berlenza some fighting 
 ensued, and lionald Stuart narrowly escaped being cut in two by an 
 eighteen-pound shot from the enemy's guns. Many weeks were 
 consumed in tedious marching and skirmishing, in which there was 
 neither glory nor gain to be acquii*ed ; and right glad were the 
 second division when the route for the gay city of Aranjuez, the 
 Windsor of Spain, reached them while stationed at the dull and 
 uninteresting town of Don Benito. 
 
 At Ivlerena, a town romantically situated at the base of the huge 
 Sierra San Bernardo, they received intelligence of the glorious 
 victory won by Lord Wellington's army over that of Marshal 
 Marmont on the field of Salamanca ; and learned that Joseph, the 
 ci-devant king of Spain, had been driven from his usurped throne, 
 and compelled to establish his head-quarters in the city of Valencia. 
 
 A Spanish peasant, who liad witnessed the battle, brought the 
 tidings to Llerena, which was illuminated in consequence ; and a 
 huge bonfire, hghted by the 3Gth regiment, blazed from the summit 
 of San Bernardo. 
 
 "When news of the "victory obtained at Salamanca reached Marshal 
 Soult, he raised the siege of Cadiz, and retreated towards Cordova, 
 leaving his cannon and ammunition in the hands of the British. 
 He drew off all his troops from Estremadura, in consequence of 
 which the presence of the second division was no longer requisite in 
 that pro\ince ; hence the unexpected route for Aranjuez. Gladly 
 they bade farewell to Don Benito, turning then* faces towards 
 Castile — the famous and romantic Castile, — of old the land of the 
 warrior and troubadour, of love and chivalry, "of battle and of 
 song." 
 
 At Truxillo Eonald had the pleasure of again seeing his friend the 
 
 Capitan Conquesta, who prese. -^ , him to his newly-wedded bnde, 
 
 Donna Maria, with whose history the reader is already acquainted. 
 Eonald spent a very pleasant evening ^nth the cavalier, who, for his 
 edification, fought over again the campaigns of Buenos Ayres, 
 enriched with many episodes, in which he himself, and " that stout 
 and honourable cavalier the General Liniers," acted prominent 
 parts. 
 
 At Truxillo Stuart was appointed one of the lieutenants of the 
 light company, an alteration which he considered no small comjili- 
 ment, as the smartest fello-svs alone are selected for the flank 
 companies. On marching past the convent walls of Jarciejo, they 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. S43 
 
 were greeted by many a viva from the nuns, who waved their white 
 kerchiefs from the grated loop-holes to the troops, who repUed to 
 them by loud cheers, each corps making the old walls shake as they 
 came up in succession. Ronald's heart was, perhaps, the saddest 
 there among thirty thousand men. It was impossible to be other- 
 wise than sorrowful, when so near the tomb of the high-souled and 
 noble Catalina. The same evening they crossed the Tagus at Almarez, 
 by a pontoon bridge. It was with mingled feelings of pride and 
 veneration that the three regiments of the fu'st brigade passed the 
 spot, where so many brave comrades had found a soldier's last 
 resting-place. The ruined forts were now overhung with wild weeds 
 and grass; the wall-flower, the honeysuckle, and ivy clung to the 
 embrasures of Port Napoleon, and nodded on the remnant of the old 
 tower of llagusa. In some places a fleshless bone projecting from 
 the sod bore \vitness of the hasty interment received by the dead. 
 On descending from the pass of Miravete they came in sight of 
 Almarez, its rocks, and woods, and winding river, just as the broad 
 setting sun went down in all its glory. A loud and exulting cheer 
 burst from the bonneted Highlanders, and was carried along the 
 column to the rear, reverberated a thousand times among the 
 splintered peaks and fro^vning craigs of the Lina. The bands of the 
 50th, the 71st, and 92nd regiments struck up the " British Grena- 
 diers ; " and thus they passed in their glitter and pride, with drums 
 beating and coloui's flying, above the sod that covered the breast of 
 many a gallant comrade. It was a proud time for the first brigade ; 
 and while their hearts throbbed quicker to the " spirit-stirring " roU 
 of the drum, or swell of the merry bugle, they forgot not that they 
 trod near the tomb of those who heard their notes no more. 
 
 Two days afterwards the troops occupied the town of Calzada de 
 Orepesa, in the midst of r\'hich stood an old baronial fortalice, or 
 square embattled tower, which was garrisoned by a party of Don 
 Salvador de Zagala's guerilla corps. Soon after seeing his light 
 company dismissed to their several billets, Honald, on passing this 
 keep, was surprised to hear his name eagerly and distinctly called by 
 some one witliin it ; and on looking up at its huge gloomy front, 
 beheld a hand beckoning to him through a narrow loop-hole, which 
 ^as cut at the top and bottom for the ejection of arrows in the 
 olden tune. Who could be thus imprisoned here, and acquainted 
 with his name, he was utterly at a loss to conjecture ; but he turned 
 to the guard of guerillas, who lay reposing on the earth in a cool 
 shady place, under the masses of wild vines which straggled over 
 the barbican wall, smoking cigars and burnishing their arms, which, 
 as well as their dress, were of so motley a kind as to remind lionald 
 of his old acquaintances in the wood of La Nava. All wore the red 
 military cockade of Spain fastened to the front of their broad hats or 
 slouching caps. 
 
 On inquiring who was imprisoned in the tower, they replied a 
 ladrone or thief, and brought to him a guerilla, whom they dignified 
 with the title of Senor el Castellano, i.e. th^ constable or governor 
 of the castle, a huge-headed, broad-shouldered, brauTiy, and muscular 
 fellow, Tvho had evidently been a muleteer, but had resigned the 
 whip and bells for the musket and poniard. He wore a pair of 
 !Prench epaulets on his mule-dri-v^er's jacket ; a sash encircled his 
 waist, bearing a powder-horn, and several pistols and daggers ; the 
 
 b2 
 
244 TIIE ItOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 krgc plume of some sfalf-ollicor decorated liis sombrero, iind his 
 I'ollowers were most of them arrayed likewise in the trappings of the 
 slain. The cast^llano received llonald with much respect, and led 
 him through the windings and intricacies of the ancient tower, 
 which, with its round wheel-stairs, arched i)a,ssages, and narrow 
 loopholes, reminded him of the old pile at Lochisla. From the 
 number of doors which were unlocked by huge clanking keys in their 
 progress, Stuart was led to expect something extraordinary, but on 
 reacliing a solitary turret chamber, when the door was thrown open, 
 what was his surprise to behold Captain Do Mesmai^ whom he sup- 
 posed to be in the castle of Albuquerque. He was miserably altered, 
 and ]Ionald, Avhile he beheld him, became filled with pity and 
 indignation— pity for his situation, and indignation at the ungenerous 
 Spaniards. His blue uniform had been stripped of its lace, epaulets, 
 stars, and medals, and hung about him in tatters, showing his skin 
 in many places. A guerilla on sentry at the door had appropriated 
 the helmet and corslet of the 10th to himself. De IVIesmai had been 
 plundered of his boots, and his feet were in a miserable state, in con- 
 sequence of the long marches the guerillas had compelled him to 
 make. He was thin and gaunt, and a beard of a week's growta 
 bristled upon his chin ; but there was the same merry dev'il-may- 
 care twinkle in his eye, which showed that his bold and buoyant 
 heart was yet unchanged. 
 
 " Vive la bagatelle — Hoa! Jive lajoie !" cried he, springing for- 
 ward and clasping Eonald in his arms ^^ith true French energy. 
 "My dear friend, you may judge how glad I am to see you. I shall 
 now be rescued from the brutality of these base and accursed 
 Spanish dogs." As this was said in Spanish, lightning gleamed in 
 the eyes of Castellano, who stood by. He grasped the hilt of his 
 ])oniard, but relinquished it as Eonald's fiery and threatening glance 
 fell on him. Yet he scowled malignantly at De Mesmai as he with- 
 drev/ his hand. 
 
 "Ah, Stuart, inon ami! of what I have suffered at the hands of 
 these guerillas you can form no idea. I have been plundered as you 
 see ; I have been beaten, kicked, even spit upon. Mon Dieu ! such 
 treatment for a gentleman and soldier of France ! I have been 
 locked up in this desolate stone chamber for four nights and days, 
 during which not one morsel of food has passed my lips." 
 
 " Rascal ! do you dare to treat an honourable prisoner of war 
 thus ? " exclaimed Ronald, turning to the Spaniard, who bestowed a 
 sullen look upon him, but made no reply. 
 
 " I fully expected that before this," continued De Mesmai, 
 " D'Erlon would have made some effort to effect my exchange. The 
 de\'il confound him ! I will revenge myself on him for his forget- 
 fulness, by being doubly sweet to madame, his dear little countess, 
 whose fortunate clier ami I have the honour to be. DiabJe ! what 
 Avould the 10th cuirassiers, — the pets of the Parisian ladies, — the 
 dandies and glory of the Boulevards, say, could they see me in this 
 plight ? Faith, I believe a dozen girls in the Rue des Trois Maries 
 would run crazy, could they know of it. Biahlement ! shirtless and 
 shoeless, — and with a coat as holy as that of Monseigneur St. Denis, 
 which hangs in the aisle of tlie old church of Besan^on. Look at 
 me. Monsieur Stuart ; your aUies, the guerillas, have done all this. 
 But I will revenge myself on D'Erlon, and garnish his empty old 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 24-> 
 
 nead v/ith certain ornaments which shall be nameless, — I will, by 
 the name of the bomb ! " 
 
 " I am glad to find that your high spirits have not deserted you, 
 and that you are as merry a fellow as ever. Can it be, that those 
 ivretches have really starved you thus ? " 
 
 " For four days, my friend," said De Mesmai ; " four days and four 
 nights, on my sacred honour ! my most earnest entreaties for bread 
 were disregarded. When I used humbly to request,. Pan, gracios 
 Senor Castellano, — ^an en el nomhre de Dios 1 this scowling coward 
 used to point to the village, ruined by Massena's troops, and reply, — 
 Carajo ! Perro e ladrone ! El J£spanol no hay nada. A quien 
 Dios de mala ventura ! ' Dog and thief ! the Spaniard has none. Ill 
 luck to you ! ' This was my hourly answer. Tcte-Bieti ! how my 
 blood has boiled up within me, and I have longed to thrust my hand 
 into his ungenerous heart. Sacre ! with two of my gallant 10th at 
 my back, and were I again astride of my fleet Norman, I could soon 
 make these rascals fly like hares before the hound. But may this 
 right hand and arm be withered and shrunken into the shoulder, if 
 ever again it spares the life of a Spaniard when my sword has once 
 laid the dog at my mercy. I will revenge in red blood the countless, the 
 never-to-be-forgotten indignities I have received from these infernal 
 guerillas. They have been taunting me for these few days past with 
 a defeat which, they saj", Marmont has met with at Salamanca. Bah I 
 Lord Wellington could never beat Marmont, and I know the rogues 
 have lied." 
 
 E/Onald smiled, but made no efibrt to undeceive him. " Take my 
 arm, De Mesmai, and permit me to lead you from this place," said 
 he, apprehensive that blow.-: would soon be exchanged between tho 
 Gaul and Spaniard, who glared at each other with unspeakab^.e 
 hatred and ferocity. 
 
 " Vive la joie ! how 1 rejoiced when I beheld the scarlet coluurms 
 of the British descending by the Navil Moral road on Calzad?> de 
 Orepesa. I knew that my hour of deliverance was at hand." 
 
 " Come, then ; march, monsieur. Let us leave this dismal tower. 
 Stand aside, worthy Senor Castellano." 
 
 " Satanos, Senor Officiale ! it cannot be that you mean to release 
 our prisoner ? " asked the guerilla, grasping his poniard again. 
 
 " Unhand your dagger, you rascally guerilla ! or I will sieze you 
 by the throat, and hurl you to the bottom of your tower," cried 
 Eonald, laying his hand on his sword. 
 
 " II a la mine guerrier" said De Mesmai, sneeringly, in his native 
 language, and laughing at the guerilla, who still ' hesitated, while 
 others came crowding into the apartment, and began to handle the 
 locks of their muskets. " Would to St. Beelzebub I had a weapon 
 to strike in with you ! We -n'ould cut our way through these base 
 plebeians, as through so many children." 
 
 " Look you, senors," said Eonald, " 'tis madness of you to obstruct 
 me. Our soldiers are thronging all about the village, and by a single 
 blast on this I will summon a hundred men in a moment." As he 
 spoke, he disengaged from his belt the silver whistle which, as alight 
 infantry officer, was now part of his appointments. By this move- 
 ment the folds of his plaid were raised, and the golden cross of St. 
 James glittered before the eyes of the Spaniards, whose favour was 
 instantly won by the sidit of the well-known Spanish badge o\ 
 
346 THE EOMAKCE OF WAR. 
 
 military achievement. They fell back right and left, ana the passage 
 ■\Tas free. De Mesmai, vowing vengeance against them, departed 
 with his deliverer, who soon got him attired in other clothing. 
 which, though somewhat motley, was preferable to the rags he haa 
 lately worn. 
 
 Aajouruing to a iaherna, kept by an old Jewess, thov ^;artook of 
 an olla pcdrida, — a mess composed of fragments of I'owl, flesh, and 
 various ingredients stewed together, an excellent dish, when well 
 spiced aud seasoned, and one that is cx)nsidered very substantial and 
 nourishing by the Spaniards. I'or this, and a stoup of very sour 
 wine, the conscientious patrona charged Ronald two duros. 
 
 After this they parted, lion aid had to take command of the 
 escort of the regimental baggage, and De Mesmai was sent to the 
 rear-guard, with whom some other prisoners of war marched. The 
 unfortunate cuirassier, with true French volubility, gave Stuart a 
 profusion of thanks for his kindness, and departed, swearing by the 
 bomb that he would make his escape on the first opportunity which 
 oflFered. This threat he executed two days afterwards, near Talavera 
 de la Reina, when the division was on its march ; and, aided by 
 some Spaniards in the French interest, he gained Andalusia in safety, 
 and rejoined Marshal Soult's army at Cordova. 
 
 After passing through a variety of towns and \illages, the troops 
 of Sir Rowland Hill, on the 29th of September, beheld before 
 them the famous and venerable city of Toledo — of old the populous 
 and wealthy capital of Spain, once so celebrated for its magnificence 
 and glory, of w^hich, alas ! so little now remains. The appearance 
 of the dark city, illumined by the glow of the setting sun, which 
 bathed in purple everything that its rays fell upon, formed a new 
 and agreeable object to the brigades, as they emerged in succession 
 from the rich groves and cool vine-trellises that, bending under 
 purple grapes, had for miles and miles overshadowed their line of 
 march, and echoed to the music of the thirty regimental bands. 
 A cheer arose from the advanced -guard when they came in sight of 
 Toledo. Situated amidst the most delightful and romantic scenery, 
 it crowns the summit of a rocky eminence, around which runs its 
 girdle of walls and battlemented towers, circled on three sides by 
 the Tagus, which, reflecting the hue of the sky, was now wandering 
 like a river of blood among gloomy trees, sylvan ravines, and rocky 
 places, adding greatly to the singular beauty of the surrounding 
 country. The roofs of the houses, which are generally about five or 
 six stories nigh, were seen shining in the sun above the serrated 
 lines of the ramparts ; and rearing high above all rose the enormous 
 Gothic tower aud spire of the ancient cathedral, the red sky 
 appearing between pinnacle and buttress, flying arch and traceried 
 window, giving a peculiar appearance of lightness and richness to 
 the huge dark mass. The opinion formed by the soldiers on first 
 viewing Toledo was changed on entering it, and seeing the close, 
 crooked, desolate, and filthy alleys which branch off in every 
 direction. 
 
 A very handsome street, where the cathedral stands, and which 
 leads to the great square, is, or was, the principal one in the city 
 and was kept tolerably well paved and clean. But everything which 
 meets the eye announces decay, and attests that trade, commerce, 
 wealth, and glory have departed from Toledo. The population. 
 
THE EOilAXCE OF WAR. 2^47 
 
 which, once exceeded two hundred thousand souls, has now sunk to 
 about one-eighth of that number. 
 
 At the city gate the troops were met by a number of the Spanish 
 nobihty and their attendants on horseback, followed bycrowcls of the 
 citizens, who received them with loud a<;clainations. The alcaldes, 
 headed by the governor, El Medico, a fierce guerilla chief, appeared 
 at the archway, attired in their robes of scarlet, and attended by 
 halljcrdiers and alguazils dressed in short black cloaks and doublets, 
 and wearing broad hats, from beneath which their long hair hung 
 down on their jagged lace collars. Numerous bands of ecclesiastics, 
 chanting as they came, and bearing banner, cross, and smoking 
 chalice, were likewise in attendance. Al30ve their dark masses were 
 borne aloft the dressed-up images of the Virgin, Santa Casilda, and 
 San Ildefonso, of whom so many legends are told in Toledo. These 
 affairs, fluttering with rich drapery and blazing with jewels, displayed 
 all that singular mixture of mummery, religion, and effect , which is 
 so much studied in the rites of the church of Rome. 
 
 In the name of King Ferdinand of Spain, as his representative, 
 and of the alcaldes and citizens of Toledo as their governor, El 
 Medico welcomed Sir Eowland Hill and the soldiers of the fighting 
 division to the ancient capital of Spain, in a speech of wonderful 
 length and pomposity. 
 
 As the brigades marched through the city, the joyous acclamations 
 of the people, the tolhng of bells, the chant of the priests, the din and 
 uproar, the reiterated cheers and shouts of " Long live Ferdinand 
 the Seventh! Long live the brave British nation! Viva, Don 
 Howland SilljViva J" resounding on all sides, almost droAvned the 
 music of the bands and tramp of the marching feet. Even 
 E;anald-dhu, the piper-major of the Gordon Highlanders, with his 
 six colleagues, had to blow their bags up vnth. might and main before 
 they could make themselves heard. The martial, yet wild-looking 
 garb of the 92nd attracted great attention, and a dense crowd of 
 staring Spaniards squeezed along on the flanks of the regiment, 
 accompanying it through all the streets. The Highland garb was a 
 new sight to the citizens of Toledo, who, although they had heard 
 of the bare-kneed Scottish regiments, with wdiose valour all Spain 
 was ringing, they now beheld one of them within the walls of the 
 city for the first time. The remarkable appearance of Dugald Mhor 
 with his snowy tresses and blue bonnet, marching close to tht 
 colonel's side, elicited many a shout of wonder : but the old Gae, 
 was too much accustomed to be distinguished thus, and cared 
 nothing about it, as he strode on with his long claymore swinging at 
 his thigh, and his brass target slung on his back. What the latter 
 with its brass studs and steel pike could be, it was impossible for the 
 Spaniards to conjecture ; but they imagined it to be some unmeaning 
 badge of office, like the gold-stick of the Guards, and concluded that 
 Dugald was some very important personage among the strangers. 
 The windows and terraced tops of the houses were crowded with 
 people, and the balconies overlooking the streets were filled with 
 ladies, who kissed their v/liite hands, waved their veils, and tossed 
 oouquets of flowers, and even their little gloves, to the officers, 
 crying ever and anon—" Long live Sii- Rowland Mill ! Sus valicnte 
 4!aballeros y soldadoa, niva ! " 
 
 The balconies were decorated with garlands of flovrers, quilts. 
 
S48 THE ROMANCE OF W'AU. 
 
 carpets, and pieces of ancient tapestry ; the banners of noble families, 
 of CDrporatif)ns, and of Si)ain, waved from the windows amid gaudy 
 pennons and streamers of every kind. Hurrah ! it was indeed a 
 magnificent scene of joy, noise, and uproar. Every man wearing the 
 rt'd coat •was the friend of tlie Spaniard ; and even the wearied little 
 drum-boy, luggin/v along his drum, was a hero and a deliverer of 
 Si)ain. That nigfit solemn prayers for the success of the British 
 arms were offered up in the great cathedral. The outside of its 
 dome and spire were lilazing with myriads of variegated lamps, and 
 the town was illuminated with great splendour. The lighted-uix 
 spire presented a most singular appearance for leagues around, 
 llising from the gUttering city, it stood like a vast column of fire 
 against the dusky sky, causing the ^rindings of the Tagus to gleam 
 afar off, from the savage defiles and deep gorges through which it 
 wanders. The soldiers were billeted on the innabitant^ of the city, 
 within the Avails • and the general, with his staff, was received into 
 the mansion of tne governor, El Medico. 
 
 The Highlanders and the left win" of an English regiment (the 
 GGth, I beUeve) w^ere quartered in the mouldering palace of the 
 ancient kings of Castile, the Alcanzar, a building which has since 
 degenerated into a house of refuge for the poor. In the evening, 
 the theatre was thronged with officers of the division, the ladies, and 
 all fashionable people m the to^vn, to witness the representation of a 
 new piece. It was entitled The Plains of Salamanca, and composed 
 by a young student of Toledo, in honour of the late victory obtained 
 by the British arms. Petween the acts or jornados, the bands of 
 the 34th regiment and of the Highlanders occupied the orchestra, and 
 played a number of Spanish airs, in compliment to the audience. 
 
 A comic opera, called the Tonadilla, closed the amusements of the 
 evening. It was performed by a single person, a young and pretty 
 actress, who sang, in a remarkably sweet voice, a long story or ballad 
 full of drollery, love-adventures, and gallantry, dra"vving loua 
 applause and astounding vivas from the audience, with whom she 
 appeared to be a decided favourite, the stage being strewed with the 
 chaplets and bouquets of flowers tossed to her by cavaliers from the 
 boxes and pit. 
 
 Certainly the whole performance did not impress the British 
 portion of the audience with a very high opinion of the state of the 
 Spanish theatre. The house was small, ill-constructed, ill-fitted up, 
 and ill-lighted with a few oil-lamps, the nauseous fumes of wliich, 
 mixed with those of oranges, cigars, and garlic, rendered the 
 atmosphere very far from pure. The scenes were daubs, the attire 
 of the actors rags, and the play destitute of talent ; but the beauty 
 of the bright-eyed ladies in the boxes, the pretty actress with her 
 tonadilla, and the martial music in the orchestra, were sufficient to 
 counterbalance other drawbacks and defects. 
 
 Sir Eowland's division lay two days in Toledo. On the evening 
 before they marched, Ronald made a tour of the city to view all 
 worth seeing. After visiting the famous sword manufactory, which 
 yet flourishes as of old, he bent his steps towards the cathedral, the 
 doors of w^hich (like those of all continental churches) stood open 
 day and night. It was almost dark when he entered it, and the 
 appearance of that vast temple, when involved in gloom and mystery 
 is fully calculated to impress the mind with holy sadness, with puro 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 249 
 
 JTCiieration, and ^^•itll awe. The pale light of the moon and stars, 
 twinkling through eighty-six tinted and traceried windows, glim- 
 mered alternately on the scores of massive and magnificent columns 
 that upheld the lofty roof, and showing them where the perspective 
 of " the long-drawn aisles " vanished away in darkness and obscurity. 
 Six tall candles twinkled before the dark painting on the altar, and 
 many holy tapers gleamed fitfully in far recesses before the shrines 
 and images of Eugenius, Casilda, Ildefonso, Leocadia, and other 
 favourite saints of Toledo, before Avhich many a solitary devotee 
 knelt on the cold pavement in earnest prayer. 
 
 The dark figures of monks and cavaliers,— the latter in broad hats 
 and long cloaks, were gliding noiselessly about, adding greatly to the 
 general efiect of the scene. They moved like shadows : scarcely a 
 footfall was heard as they trod lightly on the carved stone?, beneath 
 which sleep many a king and queen of fair Castile,— many a proud 
 grandee and redoubtable warrior. 
 
 After endeavouring to decipher by the dim light of a neighbouring 
 shrine the pompous inscriptions on the marble tombs of the great 
 Don Alvar de Luna, Cardinal Mendoza, and others, Eonald turned 
 to leave the place, his mind filled with admiration and enthusiasm at 
 its vastness, grandeur, solemnity, and magnificence. As he passed 
 down one of the side aisles, indulging in a train of these fine senti- 
 ments, they were cut short, someAvhat abruptly, by a person coming 
 violently against him in the dark, 
 
 " Sir, you are very unceremonious," cried Ronald angrily, feeling 
 for his sword. " What do you mean by coming against me thus 
 rudely?" 
 
 " I believe I may, without injustice, ask the same question of you," 
 answered a familiar voice ; and as they advanced from between the 
 columns into tlie light of a shrine, Ronald beheld with surprise the 
 face of Louis Lisle. 
 
 " I did not expect you so very suddenly, and especially here at 
 Toledo," said he, dubious ii what manner to greet his old friend, 
 whose features became at once clouded by the cold and stern expres- 
 sion which they had generally worn of late, especially since the hour 
 in which he beheld" the interview between Stuart and Catalina 
 in the cottago at Almarez. " You have made expedition in your 
 march from Lisbon." 
 
 " I arrived here about two hours ago, with a detachment of con- 
 valescents from Eelem. You are aware that the division marches at 
 sunrise to-morrow; so I Avish to see the cathedral before leaving 
 Toledo," and turning coldly, he was about to move off. 
 
 " Louis Lisle," exclaimed Ronald, suddenly and fiercely, as he 
 strode before and intercepted him, Avhile all his long pent-up indig- 
 nation broke forth uncontrollably ; " halt, sir ! You shall not stir 
 one pace from the spot until I have spoken with you. AYe must 
 come to an explanation : my own honour demands it. "Whence is 
 it, that you treat me in this studied, cold, and insolent manner, and 
 have ever done so since that hour in Avhich Ave met on the plain at 
 LaNava?" 
 
 " Recall to mind your conduct on that occa^iion, and I presume you 
 are sufficiently ansAvered," Avas the cold reply. 
 
 '"Lisle — Lisle !" exclaimed Ronald bitterly, "AA'hen children. Avhen 
 youths at home in our own country among the woods of IncbaA'on 
 
260 THE EOMAXCE OF WAH. 
 
 and Lochisla, we were constant companions and friends, — brothers 
 in all but blood. Oh ! why should it be otherwise now ?" 
 
 " Ask that question of yourself, sir, — ask of your own false heart !** 
 replied Louis, j)roudly and indignantly. 
 
 '' Fury ! \S ere you not the brother—" 
 
 " Stay, Mr. Stuart ; 1 am not accustomed to be addressed in these 
 thundering tones." 
 
 " Diaoul, Mr. Lisle ! I am at a loss to understand what you mean," 
 exclaimed llonald, his wrath increasing. "Did you not, during the 
 retreat into Portugal, and the advance again from Castello 13ranca 
 mto Spanish Estremadura, treat me \nt]i singular hauteur and cold- 
 ness ? so much so, that it has been remarked oy the whole regiment, 
 — ay, even by the brigade ?" 
 
 "1 acknowledge that I have, Mr. Stiinvt," said Lisle, drawing 
 himself up to his full height, and setting hi^ bonnet haughtily on 
 one side. 
 
 '•' Death and fury, Louis ! " exclaimed Stuart, regardless of awaken- 
 ing a thousand echoes ; " and for what has this been the cause ?" 
 
 "I repeat to you again — search your ovra heart; the cause lies 
 there." 
 
 "Blasted be my heart if I ask it of any but yourself!" repHed 
 Honald, his hot Highland blood fully roused. " As I hope to live, 
 but one consideration — one remembrance alone stays my hand froni 
 seeking the usual satisfaction — ay, even in this cathedi-al. Ha ! surely 
 this marked change of conduct and manner towards an old compa- 
 nion and brother-soldier, cannot be in consequence of Sir Allan 
 Lisle's obtaining the peerage, so long dormant ?" 
 
 " Eonald Stuart," exclaimed the other, with a scornful smile, "you 
 might know me better than to imagine I could be swayed by ideas so 
 very childish and extremely sdlly. I have been forbearing towards 
 you as mortal man could be ; but permit me now to tell you, tha,t 
 you, EonoJd Stuart, have behaved most cruelly, faithlessly, and basely 
 to one, whose name mv lins shall never utter in your presence and 
 hearing." 
 
 " Basely ! Louis— Louis— " 
 
 "Well do you know whom I mean !" interrupted the other with 
 increasing vehemence : " she is inseparably connected with the 
 memory ofj'our native place. Her you have falsely forgotten, — 
 and why. Heaven only knows, — forming attachments here among 
 Spaniards and strangers, while her heart has never wandered from 
 you." 
 
 " Lisle ! what is this you tell me now ?" 
 
 " Truth, and the feelings of an enraged yet sorro'^iing heart ! for I 
 have long mourned in secret your fickleness and inconstancy, — as 
 God is my hearer, Eonald, I have ! I deemed that your hearts were 
 entwined together in such wise that nought but death could sever 
 them ; but I have been mistaken. I believe the predictions of old 
 Cavers, our nurse, when she warned the poor girl to beware of you, 
 are now fulfilled. Tour mother was one of the Monteiths of Cairn- 
 towis, and the perfidy of the race appears to be renewed in yourself, 
 — even at this late period." 
 
 " You speak strangely. Lisle, and in riddles. You cannot mean to 
 insult me openly, by this allusion to my mother's honourable and 
 ancient family. I can forget and forgive — " 
 
THE EOil-lNCE OF WAB. 261? 
 
 " Pshaw ! I supposed so." 
 
 " How, Mr. Lisle ! " exclaimed Ro nald, with renewed fury, " You 
 cannot suppose for an instant that 1 am — Heavens ! must I name ill 
 — a coward?" 
 
 " No, Stuart ; a coward never came of your race, as my ancesters 
 have often kno^vn to their cost. The cross which at tliis moment 
 ghtters on your breast reminds me that you would not shrink from 
 any earthly danger; therefore do not suppose that my indignation 
 will lead me to be unjust." 
 
 " Your sister — Alice ; of her I would s])eak." 
 
 " Never let her name pass your hps ! " exclaimed the other, as if 
 the very sound of it roused him to frenzy. " You have destroyed her, 
 and almost broken her too sensitive — too gentle — and too confidin,^ 
 heart; but I ^\ill revenge her, Stuart, — by the powers of Heaven I 
 ■will, and you shall hear from me by daybreak. Por tliis night, I defy 
 and spit upon you !" 
 
 He rushed from the cathedral, leaving Eonald transfixed «ith rag€r 
 ?»nd amazement. 
 
THE ROMANCE OE WAE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIY. 
 
 HOSTILITIES.— A LOVE-LETTER. 
 
 Boiling with rage at Louis's insulting defiance, Ronald returned 
 to his quarters in the Alcanzar, determined at daybreak to summon 
 him forth, to fight or apologize. He often repeated the words, " Her 
 heart has never wandered from you." Ah ! if this should indeed be 
 the case, and that Alice loved him after all ! But from Louis his 
 honour demanded a full explanation and ample apology, either of 
 which he feared the proud spirit of the other Avould never stoop to 
 grant. Yet, to level a deadly weapon against the brother of Alice, — 
 against him to whom he had been a constant friend and companion 
 in childhood and maturer youth, and perhaps by a single shot to 
 destroy him, the hopes and the peace of his amiable father and sister, 
 he felt that, should this happen, he never could forgive himself. But 
 there was no alternative ; it was death or dishonour. 
 
 Two ways lay before him, — to fight or not to fight : and his sense 
 of injured honour made him, without hesitation, choose the first, 
 and he waited in no ordinary anxiety for the dawn, when Alister 
 Macdonald, who was absent on duty, would return to the quarters 
 of the regiment. 
 
 Next morning, when the grey daylight was beginning faintly to 
 show the dark courts and gloomy arcades of the Alcanzar, he sprung 
 from his couch, which had been nothing else than his cloak laid on 
 the polished floor tiles ; and undergoing a hasty toilette, he was 
 about to set forth in search of Macdonald, when Lieutenant Chis- 
 holm, one of the officers, entered. 
 
 " What ! up already, Stuart ? " said he ; "I liope you are not on 
 any duty?" 
 
 "No. ¥/hy?" 
 
 " Because Lisle has asked me to wait upon you." 
 
 " Upon me V asked Eonald, with a frov/n of surprise. " Unon me, 
 Chisholm?" 
 
 " Yes ; of course you Avill remember what occurred in the cathedral 
 last night?" 
 
 " How could I ever forget ? Mr. Lisle, under its roof, insulted me 
 most grossly," replied Eonald, his lips growing Avhite with anger, 
 " I was just about to seek INIacdonald to give him a message, but ;Mr. 
 Lisle has anticipated me." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, Stuart, let us endeavour to settle this matter 
 amicably ! Think of the remorse which an honourable survivor 
 must always feel. A hundred men slain in action are nothing to ono 
 life lost in a duel." 
 
254 THE KOilANCE OF TV'AE. 
 
 "Address these words to your principnl, — they are lost on me: 
 but you are an excellent fellow, Chisholm ! " 
 
 " It is long since we have had an allair of this sort among us, ana 
 Cameron is quite averse to this mode of settling disputes." 
 
 " I shall not consult his opinion, or that of any other man, in 
 defence of my own honour," said llonald, haughtily. 
 
 " As you please," replied the other, with an air of pique : " Lisle 
 and you have long been on very distant terms, and the olhccrs have 
 always predicted that the matter would terminate in this way." 
 
 " Curse their impertinent curiosity ! And so Lisle calls me out in 
 consequence of the high words we exchanged in the cathedral last 
 nidit?" 
 
 ' That is one reason— the least one, I beheve. He mentioned that 
 his sister, ]\Iiss Lisle — " 
 
 " Stay, Chisholm ! I will hear no more of this," cried Stuart ; 
 ^hen suddenly changing his mind, added, " Ah ! well ; his sister — 
 
 'iss Alice Lisle. Go on." 
 
 ■'" Eaith, Stuart, you seem confoundedly confused. Do settle this 
 matter in peace. Lisle has told me the story, in confidence, and I 
 think you have been to blame, — indeed you have. Send Lisle an 
 apology, for I assure you he is boiling with passion, and ^^ill not 
 yield a hair's breadth." 
 
 " Chisholm^ then how in the devil's name can you suppose that I 
 will ? " exclamied Ronald, his anger getting the better of his confu- 
 sion. " Never, by Heaven ! never will I apologize when I have suf- 
 fered the indignity. He has challenged me, and fate must now 
 decide. 1 will meet him." 
 
 " ~\^'ell, then, time presses ; we march at sunrise. Who is your 
 friend?" 
 
 " Alister Macdonald, if he has returned ; if not I shall have Logan." 
 
 " Macdonald returned about midnight, with some stragglers from 
 Torrijos, and will not rehsh being disturbed so early." 
 
 " jN ever mind that ; an hour's sleep less or more is scarcely to be 
 considered when hves are in jeopardy. Where is the meeting-place?" 
 
 " The bridge of Toledo. You will barely be in time. §ix is the 
 hour ; it Avants fifteen minutes of it by my watch." 
 
 " Well, you may leave me now." 
 
 Knowing it was needless to say any more about a reconciliation, 
 Chisholm departed ; and Eonald, after buckhng on his sword and 
 dirk, stood for a few minutes holding his bonnet in his hand irreso- 
 lutely, while he sunk into a reverie of deep and bitter reflections, of 
 what his affectionate old sire and faithful dependents at Lochisla 
 would feel should he. die by the hand of Lisle, whose very name they 
 regarded with so much jealousy and distrust. He also thought of 
 Alice and Lord Lisle, what their sentiments would be if the reverse 
 was the case, and the one lost a dear brother — the other a beloved 
 son, who was the only heir and hope of an ancient house, and the 
 successor to its title. He remembered also the words of Louis. Could 
 it be that Alice might yet love him ? But no ; that was impossible ! 
 He threw his cloak around him, and rushed from the chamber to 
 seek that of Macdonald, Avho was ready to attend him in a moment. 
 Suddenly remembering that he had no pistols, he turned into an 
 apartment occupied by JMajor Campbell, to request the loan of his. 
 
 It was a spacious and splendid room, Avith a ceihng twenty feet in 
 height. A colonnade supported the roof, the carved beams of whicb 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 265 
 
 stretched across from the gilded cornices on each side. The ceihng 
 and walls were covered with IVescoca, but the plaster and the once 
 bright and gorgeous gilding were miserably faded and dilapidated by 
 time and neglect, Holled m his cloak, and coiled up in a corner of 
 this vast and empty hall, the bulky frame of Campbell lay on the 
 tessellated pavement, and no doubt he found it a bed somewhat cold 
 and hard. His pillow was formed by his long Andrea and favourite 
 rung, \\ith a plaid rolled round them. His dirk and steel Highland 
 pistols lay on one side of him, and an empty pigskin on the other, 
 very desolate indeed he appeared, lying m a corner of that huge 
 apartment, which was totally destitute of furniture. Eonald shook 
 him by the shoulder. 
 
 " If that is you, Serjeant Macildhui," said he, speaking very crossly 
 beneath the cape of his cloak, " I must beg leave to inform you that 
 I have nothing to do now with No. 1 company. I am done with all 
 that sort of dirty work, as you will see by the last Gazette. Apply 
 to i\Ir. Kennedy, and take yourself off till the drum beats. I wish 
 the infei'nal Horse Guards would order sLx halting-days every week, 
 instead of only Sunday and Thursday." 
 
 " Look up, major ! 'Tis I — Stuart." 
 
 " What is the matter ?" cried the other, bolting up, and showing 
 that the contents of the borachio-skin were operating still on his 
 brain ; " what is the matter now ? It is very hard that a field-officer, 
 and on e too that has seen the fields of Alexandria, Egmont-op-Zee, 
 and the onslaught of Copenhagen, should be so pestered Ijy subal- 
 terns. How this hard bed makes my bones ache ! I have slept 
 softer on the hot yellow sand in Egypt. They tell me this was the 
 bed-room of Don Alfonzo the First, king of Castile. Devil mend 
 him ! I suppose he did not sleep on the pavement with a claymore 
 for a pillow, like Colin Campbell, of Craigfianteoch, in Lome, a 
 better man — for what is any Castilian don compared to a duine- 
 wassal of Argyle ? " The major snapped his fingers, and it was evi- 
 dent that he was very tipsy. " But what do you want, Eonald, my 
 bov ? " he added. 
 
 The loan of your pistols, major, for ten minutes only. I have a 
 very disagreeable affair to adjust this morning." 
 
 " I regret to hear it ; but it is with none of ours, I hope, my knight 
 of Santiago ? " 
 
 " This is no time for jesting. 'Tis with a Portuguese of Colonel 
 Campbell's brigade," said Eonald, colouring at the necessary 
 falsehood. 
 
 " Pah ! only a Portuguese,— a dirty, garlic-eating devil. There 
 are the pistols ; and, remember, always level low, and fire the instant 
 the word is given. I hope your arm is steady. A little hartshorn- 
 water, or eau de Cologne, are excellent things to rub it with. I am 
 sorry I never keep any of these things about me : Egypt cured me 
 of them. Take Stewart, the assistant-surgeon, with you, and come 
 backwhen the tulzie is over, and give me an account of it." 
 
 " 1 ou forget, major. I may never come back." 
 
 "And your opponent a Portuguese ! Who is your second ? " 
 
 " Macdonald, — Macdouald of Inchkenneth. These pistols are very 
 handsome," observed Eonald, with affected carelessness, as he 
 examined the stones Avith which they were studded, and surveyed 
 the flints and locks. 
 
 " Ah ! they are indeed handsome. My grandfather took themou.l 
 
 s2 
 
256 THE BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 of the Duke of Douglas's beltj, after he had unhorsed him at Shirra- 
 muir. They did some execution at Culloden, too." 
 
 " On the right side, of course ? " 
 
 " Yes ; in the army of the Prince. Use this one, with the cairn- 
 gorum on the butt. The other throws high, and you would need to 
 level to the boot to hit the belt. It happened so with me at Grand 
 Cairo, when firing at a Turkish thief. I aimed at his sash, and the 
 ball knocked off his turban. I would tell you all the story, but there 
 is no time. I have no fear of you ; so be off, my lad. God bless you ! 
 and steady your hand. Do not let it be said that a Portuguese gained 
 and kept'tlie ground before a Scotsman, and one of the Gordon 
 Highlanders." 
 
 At the gate of the Alcanzar he met Macdonald, and, A^Tapping 
 themselves up in their cloaks, as the morning air was cold and chilly, 
 they hurried towards the bridge of Toledo. The streets appeared 
 gloomy and dull in the grey light of the morning, and save their own 
 footfalls no other sound broke the silence. The most public places 
 were absolutely deserted. The shops under the piazzas of the Plaza, 
 the stalls in the market-place, the cafes and tabernas "svere still all 
 closed. Two or three halberdiers stood at the gate of El Medico's 
 residence, and these were all tliey met, save a cloaked cavalier, who 
 by n ladder of ropes suddenly descended from the window into the 
 street, and disappeared. 
 
 On reaching the bridge which spans the Tagus, immediately beneath 
 the cannon and battlements of the city, they found Lisle and Chisholm 
 awaiting them. A pistol-case lay on the parapet over which they 
 were leaning, watching the smooth Avaters of the river as they hurried 
 on between' rocky ledges, banks overhung with foliage, and willow- 
 trees that flourished amidst the stream. A thick white mist was 
 beginning to curl up from the bed of- the river, exhaled by the in- 
 creasing lieat of the morning sun, whose rays were tinging the east 
 with red, and the cross on the beautiful spire of the catliech'al, from 
 one of the towers of which waved a broad and crimson banner, 
 bearing the arms of Toledo— the imperial crowTi of Spain. 
 
 " A very disagreeable business this, IMacdonald," whispered Chis- 
 holm, as he took the arm of the other, and led him aside to the 
 parapet of the bridge, Avhere they communed for a few seconds, 
 leaving the principals, awkwardly enough, to stare at each other or 
 admire the scenery, Avhichever they chose. 
 
 Another attempt at an amicable arrangement was made, but with- 
 out success ; both parties were too much exasperated to yield in the 
 jeast degree. " Once more I ask you, Staart," said Chisholm, coming 
 forward, " cannot this unhappy affau' be adjusted without recourse 
 to arms?" 
 
 " You are a good-hearted fellow, Chisholm, and I fully appreciate 
 your good intentions, but your words are lost upon me ; I refer you 
 to Mr. Lisle for an answer. Mine was the insult, and any apology 
 should therefore come from him." 
 
 " It shall not !" exclaimed Lisle, bitterly ; " I will rather die than 
 apologize. Stuart, you shall light me ; and if not—" 
 
 "Ltsle — Lisle ! your behaviour is very violent and most unjustifiable." 
 
 " I am the best judge, Mr. jNIacdonald. I fight in the cause of an- 
 other, and not for myself," said Louis, and he turned haughtily on 
 his heel, and again walked to the parapet. 
 
TJrr; eomance of wae. 257 
 
 " T am perfectly disposed to accept of an apology," observed Ronald 
 to the seconds, in a subdued voice ; " but as one will not be given, on 
 Lisle's own head will rest the guilt of the blood shed this morning. 
 This quarrel has been of his own seeking, not mine. Heaven knows 
 how loath I am to fight with him, but there is no alternative now. 
 Measure the ground, and give us our weapons." 
 
 " Then, Macdonald," said Chisholm, " all hopes of an accommoda- 
 tion are at an end ?" 
 
 " Quite : your principal is much to blame. But we must be expe- 
 ditious, — see how red the horizon is; the drums will beat in ten 
 minutes." 
 
 During the measuring of the ground and the loading of the pistols, 
 Honald tixed his eyes on the sallron east, where the sun was about 
 to rise in all its splendour above the mountains of Castile. Appear- 
 ing black between him and the glowing sky rose the grassy height, 
 crowned by the black old ruins of the castle of San Servan, tliat 
 fortress so famous in romance, where '" Euy, the Cid Campeador," 
 ■was wont to spend the night in prajer and vigil. The sky was seen 
 through its embrasured towers and empty windows, brightening in 
 a blaze of glory all around, and giving promise of another day. 
 E/onald gazed eastward wistfully. In ten minutes more the sun would 
 be up, but by that time the eyes of either Lisle or himself might 
 be sealed for ever. Ronald pictured what would be the emotions of 
 Ahce if her brother was slain, because she loved him well. He 
 thought of his father, too ; and remembered painfully that he would 
 almost exult if young Lisle was slain in this contest. 
 
 His reverie was interrupted by Alister. 
 
 " All is ready, — Lisle has taken his ground," said he, putting into 
 Ronald's hand the cold steel butt of the Highland pistol. " For 
 Heaven's sake, or rather your own, appear a little more collected. 
 Lisle seems determined to shoot you, in revenge for your neglect of 
 his sister.' 
 
 '■ You have mentioned the only thing which can unnerve and un- 
 man me. Chisholm has told you, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes. An explanation might yet clear up this business." 
 
 '• I scorn to ask it now ! " 
 
 " Are you ready ?" cried Chisholm, Avho had posted Lisle fourteen 
 paces off. 
 
 '■All ready." 
 
 '■' Stand aside, Macdonald. I believe that I must give the word." 
 
 " As you please." Alister retired, but, like Chishclm's, his heart 
 was filled with a painful feeling of suspense and dread. 
 
 The fatal word was given, and the report of both pistols instanta 
 neously followed. ]lonald fired into the air, but reeled backwards 
 a few paces and sunk on the roadway. Louis's stern look imme- 
 diately relaxed, and he rushed towards him, tossing \^•ildly away the 
 other pistol, 
 
 '• Heaven be merciful and look down on me, I have killed him ! 
 O, Stuart, Ronald Stuart ! speak to me," and he knelt over him mth 
 all the remorse which a brave and generous heart is capable of feehng, 
 after the gust of passion has i)assed away. 
 
 '■' The ball has passed through his breast," whispered Macdonald, 
 m an agitated tone. " Unclasp the plaid, and open his coat. Thero 
 Ls no blood ; it must be flowini^ internally." 
 
W THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 Tlifese observations, Ihoimli made unintentionally, added greatly 
 to the distress of Louis Lisle ; but the unclasping of the shoulder- 
 belt, the undoing of the sash, the plaid, and yellow riband of liia 
 prget, aroused lionald, who, to their great surprise, rose slowly to 
 nis feet. 
 
 " Why, what are you all about, unharnessing me thus ? 1 am not 
 wounded ; but I have received a devil of a shock. By a perfect 
 miracle I have been saved." 
 " One I shall ever bless ! " said Lisle, pressing his hand. 
 " How is this ?" exclaimed Chisholm, in astonishment ; " the ball 
 has glanced off and torn your coat, as if you wore a corslet under it." 
 " By Jove ! the miniature has saved him. He wears one ; I used 
 1o quiz him about it at Merida," said Macdonald, as he pulled open 
 the yellow lappel of the regimental coat, and displayed the httle 
 portrait hung around his neck by a chain. " You perceive that the 
 silver case has turned the ball, which has become flattened against 
 the parapet yonder. Such a very narrow escape ! " 
 
 " The miniature ! how comes this to pass ? " asked Lisle. " Have 
 you still preserved and worn it thus, notwithstanding your change 
 of sentiments ? " 
 
 V Listen to me. Lisle. I vow to you, by Heaven and my honour, 
 that my sentiments are yet unchanged : they are the same as in that 
 hour when I first received this miniature from your o\^t2 hand ; and 
 from that time until this I have continually worn it near my heart, 
 preserving it carefully and preciously a.s any monk does here the 
 piece of wood which |\^ considers a part of the true cross. Never yet 
 nave I parted A\-ith i-. j relic for a moment, although I own that I 
 was on the point of destroying it when I first received intimation of 
 the intended alliance between the earl of Hyndford and your sister, 
 Miss Lisle, — an alliance probably formed by this time." 
 
 " Tlie earl of Hyndford ! " exclaimed Louis, in a tone of astonish- 
 ment. " Has that accursed and silly report been the cause of our long 
 alienation and quarrelhng ? Hyndford, — I had forgotten that affair 
 altogether, or never supposed it could have reached you here in 
 Spain. We have both been cruelly mistaken, but all will be happi- 
 ness again. Give me your hand, Stuart, and we will be friends and 
 brothers as of j ore. Your heart is still unchanged, and I pledge you 
 my honour thav the affections of Alice are yours as much as ever. 
 But this hostile meeting must be concealed from her, otherwise we 
 should never be forgiven. Our seconds will never speak of the 
 matter : their honour is a sufficient warrant for their secrecy." 
 
 Further conversation, and the congratulations of Chisholm and 
 Macdonald, were cut short by the drums beating, and they were all 
 compelled to hurry off. Lisle took the arm of Eonald, and they went 
 towards the muster-place by a; different route from tliat pursued by 
 their seconds, so that they might freely converse and give scope to 
 their thoughts. A most agreeable revulsion of feeling had taken 
 place in their minds. 
 
 " O, E;onald Stuart, I have been much to blame in this business," 
 said Lisle, " much to blame indeed. And can you forgive me ?" 
 
 '* Freely, Louis," replied the other, pressing his hand. " I admire 
 the spirit with which you have perilled life and Hmb for the cause of 
 Alice. And so the dear girl is yet true ?" 
 
 " True as the sun ! But I was infuriated, — almost maddened by 
 your seeming indifference. It now flashes upon my mind that you 
 
THE E03IANCE OF WAE. 259 
 
 mentioned Lord Hyndford in our unlucky quarrel at La Nava. 
 Until this hour I had forgotten that ; and probably, but for our 
 mountain pride and Scottish stubbornness, we might have come to a 
 satisfactory explanation twelve months ago. AVhat a deal of bitter 
 feeling the paragraph of that "wi'ctched newspaper has occasioned ! 
 But that is all at an end, and now, thank Heaven ! we \Aill no longer 
 greet each other like hostile clansmen, with gloomy and averted eyes, 
 as our sires did of yore. In all her letters to me^ Alice has deplored 
 that for twelve months past you have broken olr all correspondence 
 with her, — indeed never having written once since you left Lochisla ; 
 and my excuses appear to have been very unsatisfactory to her." 
 
 " I feared that my letters might fall into Sir Allan's hands, and 
 excite his displeasure. And afterwards our quarrel at La Nava 
 appeared to confirm my suspicions — " 
 
 Say no more of them. 1 have in my possession a letter from her 
 to you. I was intrusted with it on leaving home ; but so great was 
 the irritation I felt from our meeting at La Nava, that instead of 
 delivering it, it has lain in my baggage until this hour, — nearly a 
 whole year." 
 
 " Cruel and foolish ! Ah, Lisle ! hovr could you be so vindictive ? 
 Doubtless it would have iniravelled this matter." 
 
 " You know not by what indignant sentiments I was prompted. 
 Pride hardened my heart, for I loved Alice dearly ; but, Stuart, I 
 have heard some strange stories whispered at our mess-table, in 
 \yhich your name was entwined with that of a certain Donna Cata- 
 lina. You change countenance." 
 
 " Poor Villa Franca ; she was indeed a very beautiful woman, and 
 I will acknowledge that, jealous and irritated as I was at Alice's sup- 
 posed desertion, I jielded ^'eatly to the charms of the noble Spanish 
 lady ; but I swear to you, Louis, that Alice — Ahce alone, is the only 
 being, the only woman I have ever truly loved. How much I long 
 to behold this letter, and read the words her white hand has traced, 
 although so many months ago !" 
 
 " Gentlemen, the regiment has fallen-in," said the serjeant-major, 
 breathlessly overtaking the loiterers. " The adjutant sent me to look 
 for you, Mr. Lisle. 1 ou are to carry the king's colour to-day, sir." 
 They hurried off. 
 
 Eonald derived the most exquisite pleasure from this reconciliation 
 vnVn his old friend ; and it was alone equalled by the delightful idea 
 that Alice yet loved him, and was the same gentle, winning, and 
 blooming creature as ever, — and would yet be his, when all the perils 
 of campaigning were past. Eagerly he longed for an opportunity to 
 "vvrite : and what a deal he had to tell her, — of love and war, of future 
 happiness, and mutual tenderness ! 
 
 The long-detained letter of Alice could not be procured from the 
 depths of Lisle's baggage-trunks, until the halt at the ruinous little 
 to^vn of Villa Mayor. Although the march was only twelve miles, 
 and lay along the left bank of the Tagus, among the most beautiful 
 scenery, — wood and water, rocks and ruins, fields and vineyards, — it 
 appeared to llonald the longest and most wearisome he had ever 
 performed. As soon as he received the letter from Louis, he rushed 
 away to a secluded nook or bower of orange-trees, by the river side, 
 and prepared to con it over in secret. He hastily kissed and broke 
 the seal, which bore the crest of the Monteiths of Cairntowis, with 
 ■4hQ motto Keepe iryste. Eonald knew the signet-ring of his mother 
 
260 THE IlOilANCE Or WXll. 
 
 which he had given to AUce when he bade her adieu in the luvvn 
 be lore luchavon-house. 
 
 "Inchavon, Perthshire, 10th December, ISll. 
 " My Deaeest Konald, 
 " Louis has already sent you no less than three letters, addressed 
 to the regiment via !&dinb\u-gh and Lisbon, but alas ! wo nave never 
 yet received any answer, and I i'ear that none of them have reached 
 you. I know not how the posts are arranged in Spain, but I am 
 afraid that all our letters have miscarried, as you must have written. 
 Louis and me many by this time. This one I send in the care of my 
 dear brother, who leaves us to-morrow to join your regiment. Ah 1 
 I shall be very lonely without him, and shall weop long and bitterly 
 when he is gone. I shall have no one then to whom I can impart 
 my thoughts, or speak of you ; and my tears and anxiety will be 
 redoubled, when you are both exposed to the dangers of war. Since 
 you left Perthsliire, I have never heard of a victory without weeping, 
 and I dare not read the lists of ' killed, wounded, and missing,' lest 
 the name of one should be there, — one on whom my thoughts ever 
 dwell as their dearest treasure. I cannot look at the paper, which a 
 servant brings every morning from Perth on horseback, but I sit 
 breathlessly, m fear and trembling watching the face of papa, as he 
 reads them over at breakfast, O goodness guide me, Eonalcl ! my 
 anxiety and pain, lest his features should change, are indeed beyond 
 description. Ho^v drearily the days have passed since you left us ; 
 and I generally spend them in wandering among the places you and 
 Louis loved best. And — but enough of this : 1 must not make my 
 letter a dismal one. Louis some time ago appeared at the Perth ball 
 in the uniform of the Gordon Highlanders ; and I assure you that 
 all the young ladies were quite in love with him, fairly touched with 
 the scarlet fever. He outshone the mihtia, yeomanry, and even the 
 gay tartans of Highland gentlemen from the hui.-i. How well a gay 
 uniform looks in a ball-room ! and such a flutter it creates in the 
 hearts of the young ladies ! I believe you soldiers would be very 
 arrogant fellows, if you really knew what we think you. But, as 
 Mrs. Centlivre says, ' There's something so jaunty in a soldier, — a 
 kind of je ne sals qitoi air, that makes them more agreeable than all 
 the rest of mankind.' If this is the case, we are to be excused for 
 bein" subdued by the gay epaulet. 
 
 " Lord Hyndford has been do'S'VTi here residing "nith us for some 
 time past, enjoying the grouse-shooting with papa. He is a very nice 
 old gentleman, with white hair and a purple face, — the last occa- 
 sioned, I suppose, by his drinking so much of port ; for every day 
 after dinner he takes for his share a bottle of papa's own ' particular.* 
 He has become very peculiar and marked in his attentions to me of 
 late, (the idea of the thing ! ) and, dear Eonald, it would almost make 
 you jealous, could you but see him hanging over me vritk a senti- 
 mental expression on his JroJl old face, when I am playing on the 
 harp or piano. But I love to teaze him, and always sing, 
 " ' He's coming frac tlie north that's to marry me. 
 He's coming frae the north that's to maiTy me ; 
 A feather in his bonnet, and the kilt aboon his knee : 
 He's a bomiie Highland laddie, — but you are no he.' 
 
 " Indeed he annoys me very much, as I cannot be troubled with 
 his attentions, and you know I never flirt. In this atFair, that which 
 annoyed me most was a notice vrhicli appeared in a newspaper about 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAK. 261 
 
 his proposals to me. Such horrid prying creatures those news-people 
 are '. 13ut the editor came here to Inchavon, and made so many 
 apologies, that he got olF free, although papa had threatened to 
 horsewhip him. But I shall soon be rid of Hyndford, as the grouse- 
 shooting ends to-day ; and he must soon go to Edinburgh, to attend 
 a meeting of Scots peers at Holyrood. 
 
 " Your father, poor man, must feel very lonely now without you, 
 especially as he lives so far up the glen, in that dreary old tower, 
 surrounded by heather hills, water, and rocks. I wish greatly that 
 papa and he were good friends ; but he is so very proud, and so very 
 distant, that I see no chance of its ever coming about. Attended hy 
 my servant, Jessie Cavers, I rode up the glen one Sunday, and went 
 to the old kirk of Lochisla to see him ; and I declare that I could 
 with pleasure have given him a kiss for your sake, lionald, such a 
 noble-looking old gentleman he is ! He sat in his dark old oaken 
 pevr, "^vith his vrhite hairs glistening in the sun, which shone through 
 the western window, and he often bov/ed down his head on his huge 
 clasped Ijible. It Avas to pray for you he did so, — I am sure it was, 
 because I saw his lips move and his eyes brighten. He never looked 
 enco towards the pew of the Corrie-oich family, \^•ith whom I sat, 
 and so I never encountered his glance ; but his fierce-looking old 
 piper, who stood behind him, accoutred with dirk and claymore, 
 stared at me fixedly during the whole service. 
 
 " When the aged and venerable-looking old minister prayed, first 
 in Gaelic and then in English, for the success and safety of the British 
 army, my heart beat earnestly and responsive to the words which fell 
 from his withered lips. Indeed you may be sure it did. 
 
 " ^V'hether or not papa favours the attention of the earl of Hynd- 
 ford I do not know ; but he often speaks kindly of you, and I love 
 to listen to him when he does so. He has not forgotten that dan- 
 gerous ducking at Corrie-avon. Ah ! "what a day of terror that one 
 was ! 
 
 " I am very busy just now, w"orking a pair of colours for the Greek 
 Light Infantry, the regiment of my uncle Ludovick. They are of 
 white silk, quite covered with embroidery and needle-work. I am 
 heartily tired of them : but Louis's old flames, the Grsemes of Corrie- 
 oich, ore living Avith us just now, and we ply our needles from day- 
 da\^Ti till sunset like so many Penelopes, and the standards will soon 
 be dancing in the breezes of the Ionian isles. When the Gordon 
 Hignianders want a new pair of colours, you %vill know where to 
 apply. With a thousand prayers for your safety, and a thousand 
 more for your return, I must now conclude, as papa and Hyndford 
 have just come from the moors, with six men laden with grouse-bags, 
 and I must hurry down to the drawing-room. So believe me to be, 
 my own dearest Eonald, vours ever, Alice Lisle." 
 
 '' P.S. Do endeavour to send your next letters by some other way, 
 as the.y must all have miscarried. Try Cadiz, or Gibraltar, — but 
 perhaps it is impossible. Jessie Cavers, my foster-sister (who is at 
 my side while I am Avriting), begs you will remind her to her ' Jo 
 and dearie O,' a young man named Evan Iverach, who belongs to 
 your company ; and tell him, that he is not forgotten by the heart 
 he has left at hame. " A. L." 
 
 " Alice, my o^vn beloved Alice ! and you are yet true ! " exclaimed 
 Stuart aloud, pressing the letter to his lips. " What a ^'retch and 
 
202 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 madman I have been to doubt j'ou for a moment ! itow unworthy 1 
 am that vou should condescend to write to me ! Ala.s ! oh, Ahce, 
 how much I have wronged you by my false and wicked suspicions of 
 vour truth and constancy. Ah ! my own dear <^iv\, my repentant 
 heart turns to you more fondly by a thousand degrees than of yore." 
 He drew forth her miniature to gaze upon it, and while doing so, 
 let fall the letter. 
 
 " Upon my word, a most industrious creature ! " said Louis Lisle, 
 who had been stanaiug by, as he picked it up. " She has given you 
 no less than four closeW-AMitten pages, of a very pretty lady-like and 
 current little hand. I have been sitting beside you for this hour 
 past skimming stones along the surface of the Tagus, — not a very 
 mtellectual amusement. I did not wish to interrupt you, but I 
 thought you would never come to a halt. How often have you read 
 this letter over?" 
 
 " Three times." 
 
 " Thrice ? See what it is to be in love ! " 
 
 " O Louis ! how humbled and mortified I am. Wliat shall I say 
 to AUce when I write to her ? I dare not tell the truth^ — and yet, 
 by heavens ! I cannot deceive her. Is there no alternative, but to 
 wound her feelings l)y a whisper of my cursed suspicions ?" 
 
 " Come, my old friend, 1 will endeavour to make your peace ; and 
 Alice, I believe, nill not be very inexorable I am billeted on the 
 house of the escrivan, or toAni-clerk of this place, Villa Mayor, and 
 there we shall have Avriting materials in abundance. Let us set 
 about our correspondence, and have our letters ready for Lisbon, to 
 be despatched by the first orderly dragoon who rides to the rear." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXY. 
 
 THE EALL.— THE BULL-FIGHT.— AX ADVENTUKE. 
 
 "With every demonstration of joy Sir Rowland's division of the 
 army were received by the good people of Aranjuez, a very in- 
 teresting town, which stands near the Tagus and Garama, about 
 twenty-seven miles from Madrid, and twenty-one from Toledo. 
 Aranjuez is surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills and green 
 forests, and contains the celebrated summer residence of the kings 
 of Spain ; around which spread the royal gardens, justly considered 
 the most beautiful and elegant in Europe. The town contains a 
 Prado, or public promenade, four miles in length, wdiich crosses the 
 Tagus twice, by gaily-painted wooden bridges, before it loses itself 
 among the orchards and fragrant orange thickets. 
 
 The streets of the town are perfectly regular, even monotonously 
 so, but richly ornamented on the outside with projecting cornices, 
 pilasters, and balconies. There is a quietness, and an air of dignity 
 and "calm repose," about Aranjue/j, which is not often met with in 
 Spain, but which marks it as being strictly the residence of people of 
 rank and fortune. The town contains three churches, and an area 
 for bull-fights. The Highlanders halted in the large square, which is 
 paved A\ith marble, and contains the splendid brass statue of Charles 
 the Fifth. The Emperor is represented armed cap-a-pie, trampling 
 . down heresy in the form of four arch-heretics. The statue and 
 
THE EOMANCE OF -WAE. 263 
 
 pedestal wei'e decorated with flowers — indeed all the streets wore 
 strewed ^\'ith them — in honour of the occasion. 
 
 Welliui^ton, who by this time lidd been created a marquis, lay 
 befoi-e 15urgos, besieging the castle, and the surrender of its garrison 
 was looked for daily. 
 
 As the second division expected to remain some weeks at Aranjuez, 
 they were billeted as usual on the inhabitants ; and the long aiTears 
 of pay having been received, they were enabled to make themselves 
 tolerably comfortable. The officers of the Highlanders having so 
 much loose cash on their hands, determined to get rid of it as soon 
 as possible, by giving a splendid ball to the ladies of Aranjuez and 
 the officers of the division. 
 
 A committee was appointed to arrange matters, despatch the 
 invitations, and get the palace, which, had been procured for the 
 purpose, duly fitted up and decorated. In this princely and spacious 
 building the Supreme Junta of the Spanish government were 
 installed, and beld their first meeting in 1808. Joseph Buonaparte 
 occupied it previously to his retreat to Valencia, and a great quantity 
 of his household stuffs, crystal, &c., were found in it, very oppor- 
 tunely, and seized by the committee to equip the supper-tables. 
 Prom Madrid some thousand variegated lamps were procured to 
 illuminate the gardens and avenues leading to the palace, and 
 nearly twelve hundred oil-paintings, many of them by the best 
 ancient and modern masters, were collected from different parts of 
 the building, and hung up in the suites of apartnients appropriated 
 to the festivities. The troops entered on the 1st of October, — the 
 ball was to be on the night of the twentieth, and of course all the 
 unmarried ladies of Aranjuez were in a flutter, — nay, in fact, in a 
 state of extreme excitement about the affair. The ball, the ball to 
 be given by the Scottish officers, was the only subject discussed at 
 the soirees, terltdias, and parties at the houses of the citizens ; at 
 the Prado, and in the cafes and tahernas in the town. The com- 
 mittee, which consisted of Captain Seaton, Macdcnald, and Ronald 
 Stuart, usually met every evening in the palace, to send off the 
 invitations and discuss some of King Joseph's wine. 
 
 " I must send one of these to the young ladies of my billet," said 
 Alister on one occasion, as they sat writing, folding, and sealing the 
 cards at an open window, where they were luxuriating in the fragrant 
 perfume of the gardens, smoking cigars, and sipping volnais. " They 
 are both young and pretty," continued Alister, " but sadly curbed in 
 by an old maiden aunt, who regards them as very dangerous rivals." 
 
 " They are likely to prove so," said Seaton, the captain of the light 
 company ; " the girls have superb eyes and teeth. In this capital 
 volnais I drink to their healths, and that of the ex-king of Spain, to 
 whom we are so much indebted for assisting us with our entertain- 
 ment, by leaving his ' gudes and gear ' behind him." 
 
 " Here is the name of the Conde de Truxillo," observed Macdonald, 
 consulting the invitation-list. " Seaton, no notice appears as yet to 
 have been sent him." 
 
 " A general invitation has been sent to the officers of his regiment. 
 I enclosed it myself, but I have sworn to touch these matters no 
 more. This volnais obscured my faculties so much yesterday, that I 
 enclosed cards to dons which were written to donnas, to dukes that 
 were written to plain senores, and vice versa. I will leave these 
 matters to you, Mac. and Stuart, ray subaltern ; while, as piesident 
 
204 THE R0MJ4NCE OF WAB. 
 
 of llie committee, I will smoke my cigar and drink with you, so long 
 as the volnais lasts. Apropos,— ]msh the decanters this way I" 
 
 " So the conde has left the staff," observed Stuart. 
 
 " He belongs now to the 4th Spanish Infantry ; they are Tvith 
 3)e Costa's brigade." 
 
 " Here is a card for Senores the four most ^vorshipful alcaldes of 
 Aranjuez." 
 
 " AVhat is the use of asking these people to a ball ?" said Seaton. 
 " Nothing more than mechanical citizens, whose blowsy wives and 
 daughters will be intruding themselves, bedizened in the dresses of 
 the last century." 
 
 '■ It is impossible to pass them over, and vulgarity may be excused 
 in a magistrate. Here are invitations for the 10th Portuguese, for 
 the Catalonian Cac^adores, the 39th and GGth British, and all the 
 cavalry brigades. oS'ow, then, for the ladies." 
 
 '= God bless them!" 
 
 " Amen ! Seaton. Donna Isabel de Campo, and her foiu* daughters. 
 These people live near this, do they not?" 
 
 " No ; in the marble square, three doors from the palace D'Alarino. 
 Two of the light dragoons are quartered there, and a pleasant time 
 they seem to have of it, as the live donnas spend the day in flirting, 
 waltzing, or twanging the guitar and piano. And then mamma,, 
 although a httle old and stale, is of a very gay disposition." 
 
 " A comprehensive phrase in Spain. You are a most gossiping 
 fellow, Seaton. It is a marvel to me how you learn the history of 
 people as you do. Don FelLx Joaquin, knight of Calatrava," con- 
 tinued Alister, reading from the list. 
 
 _" A base rogue," was Seaton's comment, "and one who kissed 
 King Joseph's hand, the day before he fled to Valencia. You, as a 
 true knight of Santiago, should certainly break his head for him, 
 Stuart." 
 
 " Thank you : I shall not take the trouble. Eead on, Macdonald." 
 
 " The very noble cavaUer, — what a most unpronounceable name, — 
 Don Zunasbul Ascasibur de Yniirritegui." 
 
 " A fellow as mad as Cuesta himself! Invite him, by all means." 
 
 " He is my patron," said Eonald ; " a fine old fellow — a true 
 Spaniard of the old school ; and, like Cuesta, sticks to the plumed 
 beaver and slashed doublet of his grandfather's days. Who comes 
 next?'^ 
 
 " JMicer Astuto Eubio, and his lady." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Seaton, " an ahogado ; in other words, a. rogue. 
 Astuto ? ah, he is well named ; that is Spanish for craft or chicanery 
 of which he has as much, I believe, as any Edinburgh W.S." 
 
 " Donna Elvira Moro, Calle Mayor. Any scandal about her. 
 Seaton?" 
 
 " Plenty, and to spare. The town is full of strange stories about 
 her and her escudero, or gentleman-usher, an office to which she 
 suddenly raised him from being a moco de mulas:-^ His goodly pro- 
 portions pleased the eye of the -widow." 
 
 " Scandal again ! The Duke of Alba de T , and his two 
 
 daughters — Donna Ohvia and Donna Virginia." 
 
 " Three separate cards must be sent to them," said Stuart, inditing 
 them while he spoke. 
 
 " The duke is supposed to be a traitor, and in the Prench interest." 
 * A mule- driver. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 265 
 
 " I assure you, Seaton, liis daughters are not," replied llonald, 
 writing the while. " They are very beautiful girls, and Lisle is a 
 lucky dog to have his billet in the palace of Pe T . He is con- 
 tinually with them, either among the gard:u_-, riding on the Frado, 
 or flirting at home, I believe. The young senoras, are never to be 
 seen, either at church or la Posada de los ilepresente.<!, without their 
 most faithful cavalier and escudero, the honourable Louis Lisle." 
 
 " The mess get very little of his company just now. He never 
 appears among us but at parade; and when the word 'dismiss 'is 
 given, he vanishes like a ghost at cock-crow. I wonder what the 
 duke thinks of the matter ?" 
 
 " I believe, Alister, he never thinks of it at all," replied Seaton. 
 " He is too proud to hold communication with any one, and sits in 
 his library, smoking Guadalaxara cigars and drinking sherry, from 
 dawn till sunset, keeping every one at an awful distance." 
 
 " But his daughters—" 
 
 " Are strictly watched by an old duenna. I got a complete historj'- 
 of the family from my old gossiping patron. It appears that when 
 old Mahoud takes the duke to himself, the two girls will be im- 
 mensely rich. Donna Olivia, who is as gay a coquette as one can 
 imagine, has a castle and estate of her own, Ijang by the banks of 
 the Nive, on the French side of the Pyrenees. Her sister, Virginia, 
 who has lately obtained her liberty from a convent, by the Pope's 
 dispensation dissolving her vows, has become the leading star of 
 3Iadrid and Aranjuez. By the death of her coucin, the marquis of 
 Montesa— who was killed near Albuera, you will remember,~she 
 has succeeded to large estates in Valencia — Valencia la hermosa, the 
 land of wine and olives. The fair sisters are closely besieged by all 
 the threadbare cavaliers in the province,— fello\vs who trace their 
 pedigrees beyond King Bamba's days ; so that Lisle has very little 
 chance." 
 
 " He will forget them when the route comes," said Alister. " 1 
 have been desperately in love about eight times, since Ave landed at 
 the Black Horse-square in Lisbon; and Louis will get over this 
 affair, as I have done others. The flirts of one garrison-town efface 
 the impressions made by those of the last." 
 
 " Now and then a raw sub is meshed and caged, though !" 
 
 " Or an old field-ofli(;er, in desperation of getting a ^^■ife at all ; 
 but generally we rough it too much at present to find time to fall 
 in love." 
 
 On the evening of the Highlanders' ball, all Aranjuez was in a 
 slate of commotion : myriads of lights were burning throughout the 
 palace and royal gardens, where everything bore evidence of the good 
 taste and expedition of the committee. 
 
 Por promenading, there were set apart a long suite of rooms, ex- 
 tending from one wing to the other. Their floors were tesselated, 
 and the ceilings gilded and painted in fresco, while the walls had 
 been adorned by a thousand choice pictures, selected by the com- 
 mittee. These rooms had quite the appearance of an exhibition ; 
 but at intervals Avere hung wreaths of laurel, intermingled Avith 
 festoons of tartan plaids, garlands of floAvers, glittering stars of 
 bayonets and claymores, pistols and muskets, Avhich Avere reflected 
 in many a polished mirror hung between the Avhite marble pilasters 
 Avhich supported the ceilings of these splendid apartments. In every 
 one of the long suite w^as a richly-carved marble mantel-piece, and 
 
2CG TUE KOMANCi: OF WAK. 
 
 on each stood a magnificent alabaster French clock. Behind rose 
 tall mirrors, encircled by gorgeously-gilt frames, all of Paris manu- 
 facture, part of King Joseph's household stutf, abandoned by him on 
 his hasty Qight. 
 
 The rooms were brilliantly lighted up, as indeed were the courts, 
 arcades, and every part of the spacious palace. The large hall appro- 
 priated to the dancers was decorated like the promenade. The 
 regimental band occupied the music-gallery, in front of which hung 
 the yellow silk standards of the corps. The curtains of the twelve 
 lofty windows were hung in festoons, showing the open casements 
 and steps of white marble leading to the illuminated gardens, in 
 the bowel's of which the refreshment-tables were laid, and attended 
 by waiters. 
 
 A Highland guard of honour, consisting of a hundred grenadiers, 
 were drawn up in the portico, to receive, with the usual compli- 
 ments, the magistrates and persons of rank ; and the members of the 
 committee might be seen hurrying through the lighted rooms in full 
 puff, dressed in their gayest uniform, ordering here and there and 
 everj-^vhere the servants and attendants, and getting everything in 
 due order before the company began to arrive. About nine o'clock 
 came the four pompous alcaldes, clad in gowns of red scarlet. Three 
 brought their wives with them, — swarthy old ladies, wearing their 
 hair t\nsted in two gigantic tails, reaching far below their waists. 
 Each came in an old-fashioned carriage, attended behind by a couple 
 of strap])ing alguazils, armed with halberts or blunderbusses. The 
 guard of honour presented arms, the drum beat a march, and the 
 four senores, doffing their sombreros, were ushered into an outer 
 apartment, where Fassifern stayed to receive the company. He was 
 di'essed in full uniform, and wore his kilt and purse, instead of the 
 trtds and spurs of a field-officer, and his plaid of dark-green tartan 
 was fastened to his left shoulder by a splendid silver brooch, which 
 flashed and sparkled in the light of the lustres. After the arrival of 
 the unfashionable alcaldes, the company continued to pour in without 
 intermission, until the rooms were crowded. All the staff arrived 
 about twelve o'clock ; but the general himself, for some reason, was 
 unable to attend. 
 
 The interior of the stately palace presented a scene of no ordinarj' 
 splendour on that evening. Hundreds of uniforms of cavalry and 
 infantry officers — British, Spanish, Portuguese, and German, were 
 glittering everj^where. The ladies were attired in all the colours of 
 the rainbow, and their light floating dresses were seen mingling 
 among smart light dragoons. Scottish Highlanders, green-clad 
 cagadores, and clumsy German riflemen, and, I must remark, thati 
 the latter were perhaps the most vulgar and ungainly fellows t^hau 
 ever appeared in a ball-room. There were numbers of cavaliers 
 attired in the Spanish doublet, a close-fitting vest wth sleeves. A 
 smart mantle dangled from their left shoulder, and nearly all wore 
 knee-breeches and broad white collars around their necks — a costume 
 at once smart and picturesque. Many wore the garbs and badges of 
 their national military orders : there were knights of Calatrava and 
 Alcantara, wearing, — the former rod crosses, the latter green, upon 
 black velvet tunics ; and knights of " the Band," wearing the scarlet 
 scarf of their ancient order. But the most picturesque costumes 
 were those of four knigtits of the religious order of Redemption, who 
 appeared clad completely in white, with a large black cross on tho 
 
TUK ROMANCE OF WAE. 267 
 
 breast of the silk tunic, which reached to the knees. A white velvet 
 mantle ilowed behind, and each wore tliree white feathers in a small 
 round cap of a Hat shape, hke the bonnet of a Lowlander. 
 
 These singular garbs added greatly to the gaietj' of the scene ; but 
 if the interior of the palace presented a blaze of splendour, the illu- 
 minated gardens were a realization of fairy-land. Two channels 
 having been given to the Tagus, the grounds of the palace were 
 enclosed as an island, being completely surrounded by the stream, 
 amid which many a stately swan was swirnming about, or slowly 
 sailing as they spi'ead their snowy plumage to the breeze, The trees 
 were thickly planted on each side of the walks, and their boughs, 
 nhich vere beginning to wear the brown tints of autumn, embraced 
 eaei". other, and being carefully pruned below, formed long and 
 beautiful sylvan arcades, such as are not to be found in any other 
 garden in Europe. A thousand variegated lamps, clustering like 
 enchanted fruit., were hung upon their boughs, or stretched from 
 tree to tree in festoons, illuminating with a blaze of light the deepest 
 recesses, where even the meridian sun could not penetrate. 
 
 White marble statues were gleaming, and the rushing waters of 
 the famous jets <Ceau were sparkling like showers of diamonds in the 
 arliiicial light, which likewise revealed the glories of the rich 
 parterres, where flowers of every tint, crimson and gold, purple and 
 blue, orange and red, were yet budding and blooming in spite of the 
 advanced time of the year. The strains of music were wafted 
 divinely througli the open casements of the hall, where the dancers 
 were Avreathed in the quadrille, or wheeled round in the giddy waltz, 
 —the light feet of the Spanish girls gliding like those of sylphs or 
 fairies, while their airy drapery, floating about over the marble floors, 
 .seemed like the garments of the same imaginary beings. What a 
 strong contrast all this scene formed when compared with the misery 
 and discomfort which the troops had endured so long, and that which 
 they w^ere soon again doomed to sufter ! 
 
 Like the other oflicers of the Highlanders, Eonald was accurately 
 attired in full uniform, wearing his cross on his breast. His kilt, 
 which contained ten yards of the Gordon tartan, reached to ^nthin 
 three inches of his knee ; from this the leg was bare to the SAvell of 
 the calf, where his silk hose of red and white dice were gartered with 
 knots of red ribands. A handsome brooch confined the folds of his 
 plaid above the left epaulet, and a tasselled sporan^ the mouth of 
 which was hidden by a fox's head, dangled from his waist. His patron, 
 Don Ascasibur Yuiirritegui, who was attired in the dress and armed, 
 with a long Toledo of Charles the Pifth's days, had introduced him 
 k) several pretty girls, with all of whom he had danced and flirted, 
 promenaded, handed scarfs, bouquets, and ices, and acquitted himself 
 as a very acconiplished caballero. For Louis Lisle he looked every- 
 where in vain : he was the only one absent. 
 
 " AVhere is Lisle, Alister ? " asked he of Macdonald, who moved 
 slowly p'ast, with a fat old lady leaning on his arm. Although richly 
 jewelled and robed, she was confoundedly ugly, and wore a white veil 
 hangin" down her broad back from a comb at least one foot six inches 
 high. ' It is very odd," continued Eonald, " that he should absent 
 himself on this occasion." 
 
 " The Duke of Allxi de T and his two charming daughters have 
 
 not yet arrived. liOuis will come mth them." 
 
 '* Ah ; 1 had forgotten. I long to see those beauties, of whom I 
 
268 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 have heard so much. But how is it that I have not seen you dancing 
 to-night?" 
 
 " Tush ! " whispered the other ruefully in English. " Campbell, 
 designedly, I think, introduced me to this old woman, his patrona, — 
 wife of the Contador, or Steward of the pakce. She sticks to me 
 like a burr, and I am compelled to waste the night as her escudero, 
 when so many delightful girls are present." 
 
 " The flower of Madrid and Aranjuez." 
 
 " I will revenge myself on Campbell for this trick of his." 
 
 " Try if Blacier, of the 60th, will relieve you of her. Germans are 
 not very fastidious in their tastes. He is standing among the dancers, 
 alike regardless of place or persons, smoking his long German pipe 
 as coolly as he would do in a guard-room." 
 
 Alister led the unconscious lady off, and succeeded " in turning 
 her over to Blacier's command," as he said when he rejoined Ronald. 
 
 " There is Seaton," said he, " striving to make himself agreeable to 
 the gay widow of the Calle Mayor, Donna Elvira Moro." 
 
 " Seaton can easily do that ; he is a very handsome fellow. Y»^ho 
 is the young lady to whom Bevan has attached himself so closely ? " 
 
 "One of rank, I believe, and a widow too, — the Condessa 
 Estremera." 
 
 " How gaily she flirts." 
 
 "Poor Bevan ! he is a simple fellow, and I believe she is making 
 a sad fool of him. Last night I saw her amusing herself thus mth 
 one of the 34th, and — Hah ! here comes Lisle, with the duke and the 
 young ladies. Beautiful girls ! " 
 
 " Beautiful indeed ! " echoed Stuart, as the tall and portly duke, 
 attired in an old-fashioned dress, with his broad beaver under his 
 left arm, and, encased in a white glove, the little hand of Donna 
 Olivia droopingon his right, entered the dancing-rooms, follo^ved by 
 Lisle leading Donna Virginia. Both the sisters were tall and of 
 queen -like figures. Their dresses of white satin were richly trimmed 
 "\nth fine lace, and lofty ostrich feathers nodded above their glossy 
 ringlets, amid which many a diamond and other gem sparkled and 
 blazed when they moved. Long W'hite Spanish veils, descending 
 from the head, hung down behind them, giving to their figures still 
 greater grace and dignity. 
 
 " They are lovely creatures ! " said Macdonald. " But Virginia 
 moves like an empress among all the plumed and jewelled beauties 
 around her." 
 
 " What a thrice enviable sub is Master Louis, to be their cavalier ! 
 All eyes are turned upon them." 
 
 _ " And a knight of Alcantara, yonder, leaning against the mantel- 
 piece, seems to eye Lisle with a very unfriendly look. In truth, 
 Donna 01i\ia appears like some being of another world. Her 
 features are Grecian rather than Spanish ; and her eyes — by Jove ! 
 they are brighter than diamonds, and flash like lightning when she 
 smiles." 
 
 " You seem quite enraptured with her." 
 
 " I am a connoisseur ; but, fair as she is, there is one bonnie lass in 
 the Western Isles, who to me seems fairer stiD. Ohvia is a bold and 
 beautiful girl, but there is something softer, yet not less pleasing, in 
 the hazel eyes of Virginia." 
 
 " Virginia! By heavens, I should know her face ! Where can I 
 liave seen it before ? " 
 
 I 
 
THE P.OMANCK OF WAK. 309 
 
 *llush! they are moving this way, smihng and coquetting iusii 
 they meant to be the death of us all." 
 
 " Faith ! Alister, I hope Lisle mil have the charity to introduce 
 us." 
 
 " Tush ! A Spanish officer has carried off Olivia. He has engaged 
 her for the next dance. He is bowing to you, Stuart." 
 
 Fiori aid's eyes at that moment encountered those of the Conde de 
 Truxillo. 13oth bowed, and the conde, placing his arm around 
 Ohvia, ^\heeled her into the circle of the waltzers, where they were 
 seen only for a moment now and then. Fassifern led away the duke 
 to one of the refreshment-tables in the garden: while Lisle, followed 
 by the sharp eyes of many a jealous cavalier, advanced towards Stuart 
 and Macdonald, with Virginia leaning on his arm. 
 
 " I wish one of you would find a partner," said he ; ' we want a 
 t'is'Ci-vis for the next quadrille." 
 '' With pleasure." 
 
 '•' I am engaged to dance with Donna Isabel de Campo, said 
 Alister ; " but prav introduce me, Louis." 
 
 " And me," added Hon aid. " A most lucky dog you are ! " These 
 <jbservations passed in English; but the formal introduction w'as 
 gone through in choice Castilian. " I have surely had the happiness 
 of seeing Donna Virginia before," said llonald. " It is impossible I 
 could ever forget." 
 
 '• Holy Mother ! Senor Offlc/ale," exclaimed the young lady with 
 an air of pretty sui-prise, as she raised her tine eyebrows ; " is it 
 possible that you recognise me, arrajed as I now am in a garb so 
 diflerent from that which I wore in the convent of Santa Cruz ? " 
 
 " Do I behold the Madre Santa Martha of Jarciejo in Donna 
 Virginia ? What riddle is this, nenora ? " . ^^ 
 
 "A strange one truly, senor, and a very agreeable transformation,' 
 replied the lady, blushing and smiling as she glanced at her figure, 
 which was fullv reflected in an opposite mirror. 
 
 " What is all this ? " asked Lisle in surprise. " Then you aro 
 acquainted with each other, it seems ? " 
 
 " O yes, Don Louis ; quite old friends indeed," replied the lady, 
 with a vivacity which piqued Don Louis a little. " We met on a 
 sad occasion— a very sad one, truly,— of which I will give you the 
 history when we are at leisure. 'Tis quite a romance, and Cervantes 
 of Esquivas, or Juan de Valencia, have never written anything 
 like it." 
 
 " Allow me to lead you. Donna Virginia ; the dancers are arranging 
 themselves. Had we not better take our places ? " ; 
 
 " Certainly, senor ; but our vis-d-vcs, remember. Shall I introduce 
 your friend'to the Condessa Estrcmera, — she Avaltzes beautifully." 
 
 " The Condessa is engaged ; she appears resolved to make quite a 
 conquest of Bevan of ours." 
 
 " Arc ^\e to look all night for a vis-a-vis ? Oh ! here comes my 
 sister Olivia ; she is beautiful enough to make him die of love, and 1 
 shall inl rodvice him, if it was only to make Truxillo jealous." 
 
 Truxillo regarded Stuart uith no pleasant eye as he carried off 
 his donna. However, he endeavoured to dissemble, and said with a 
 smile, " I congratulate you, senor, on obtaining the highest order of 
 knighthood that a Spanish king can confer. You will tind it east/ 
 work to protect the pilgrims who \dsit Compostella from the insults 
 of the Moors in the nineteenth century. I am myself a commander 
 
 T 
 
270 THE llOJklAXCE OF WAB. 
 
 of the order," he added, dis])laying a richer cross, around which waa- 
 the motto, — Sanc/ulne Arabum. 
 
 "lam again to be the rival of this fiery condd. I am always in 
 some conibuuded scrape," thought liouald, as he led his partner to 
 her place. 
 
 *^ Sunt (I Anna, sen or ! these rooms are suflbcating," said the lady. 
 
 " As, soon as tlie dance is ended, permit me to have the honour o/ 
 leading you to the garden." 
 
 "Pray relieve mo of my scarf." The thin gauze screen was trans- 
 ferred from the white shoulders of Olivia to ilonald's arm. 
 
 " See, senor, — the Condessa; how well she is looking. Ah ! had 
 she only worn her tiara on her black curls, she would have been 
 matchless." 
 
 " Impossible, while Donna Olivia is present." 
 
 " Look at that oillcer of Villamur's regiment, — a handsome cavalier; 
 he bows. How do you do, Pedro ? ^Vhat can that old knight of 
 Calatrava be whispering to the rich widow of the Calle Mayor ? 
 Ah, I would give the world to know ! How they smile at each 
 other. Love must be very agreeable. Santos ! I have dropped my 
 
 fan. Quick, senor; pick it up, before the feet of the dancers A 
 
 thousand thanks," she added, as Eonald restored it to her. " I would 
 not have it destroyed for the universe, — 'tis a present from Don 
 Carlos Avallo : he, too, is looking this way. How d'ye do, Carlos ? " 
 and thus did Olivia run on during all the intervals between the 
 figures of the dance. 
 
 No sooner was the quadrille over, than the gallopade was proposea. 
 
 " Mva la gallopade ! cavaliers," cried Cameron, striking his hands 
 together. Lisle still kept Virginia, and Eonald her gay sister, and 
 all the cavaliers of Old and New Castile grew hot with indignation 
 and jealousy. Away flew the dancers to the crash of music from 
 the orchestra. The scene was indeed glorious. A hundi'ed couples 
 went round hand in hand, plumes waving, ear-rings trembling, 
 jewels and epaulets, stars and medals flashing and glittering, spurs 
 and poniards clanking, the light feet and muslin drapery of the 
 graceful Spanish girls flying about and mingling with the buckled 
 shoes and dark green tartans of the Highlanders. Bravo ! It was 
 beautiful. 
 
 The dance was over, and the ladies, breathless and overcome, with 
 bosoms panting, cheeks blushing, and eyes sparkling, clung to the 
 arms of their cavaliers, who led them through the open casements 
 to promenade in the cool gardens, where the female waiters, little 
 sylph-like girls about twelve or fifteen years old, clad in white, vriili 
 their black curls streaming about, ghded tlirough the illuminated 
 arbours and walks, handing ices to the ladies, and cool and sparkling 
 champagne or Malaga to the gentlemen. ~\Vhen promenading with 
 Olivia through one of the beautiful walks, from each side of which 
 he was constantly culling fresh flowers for her bouquet, Eonald 
 heard famihar voices conversing in an orange-bower, the interior of 
 which was brilliantly illuminated with parti-coloured lamps. 
 
 " Tes, sir ; we turned their flank, and fell upon them with the 
 bayonet, and with God's help cut to pieces every mother's son of 
 them in five minutes," said Campbell, witliin the bower, striking hi^^ 
 heavy hand emphatically on the seat ; adding afterwards, in another 
 tone. ** Most exf;ei]e:nLt champagne this, Don Ascasibur, and much 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 271 
 
 obliged we are to the ex-king of Spain for leaving it here to be 
 drunk by better men." -, -.r .. -^ • « » i ■*. 
 
 " Satanas take the ex-king!" replied Ynurritegui And so it 
 was as you tell, that this very noble old cavalier was slam ^ 
 
 " Av, sir ; the shot struck him here, and he fell sword :n hand 
 from his saddle. A gallant fellow was Sir Ealph, and under his 
 coimnand I was initiated into all the sublime mysteries of soldiery. ^^ 
 
 " Campbell has been fighting Egypt over again to my patron 
 thought Stuart. " INIajor," said he, looking m "how can you and 
 Don Ascasibur be so ungallant as to forsake the ladies for champagne 
 flasks ? Fie upon you ! senores." o ■ 1^4. ia 
 
 "The ladies will not break their hearts; such a Inght old 
 Tniirritegui is !" whispered Olivia, behind her fan. . , ^, . , , 
 
 "Campbell, do you mean to sit here all night ? said Chisholm, 
 looking in on the other side, as he passed with a lady. ihey are 
 arranging themselves for the i7«^oije again." 
 
 " It is fit only for subs," replied the major, testily. The idea of 
 afield-officer galloping any way but on horseback!" 
 
 "It seems quite the rage here at Araniuez, said Stuari, as 
 Chisholm moved ofi". " But then the gu:ls here galope so beautitully, 
 they are in the right to have it so. So, major, you do not mean to 
 join the dancers to-night ? " ^ , , . 1 n j 
 
 " Yes," answered the other, shaking the flasks, which all proved 
 empty ; " but neither at waltz, quadrHle, or galope. I have no idea 
 of flying round a room at the rate of ten miles an hour m mortal 
 terror the while of crushing the ladies' dear little feet and white 
 satin shoes with my heavy brogues. Besides, the dance is too 
 intricate for me— ' chassez to the right and left, turn your partner, 
 balancez, turn again, galopade a la chassez to places ! roon . 1 
 would rather dance Tullochgorm, or the Ruighle Thulaichean, or 
 any other decent fling ; but I have no love for your Spanish dances 
 and galopade quadriUes. They ill become the sporran and breacan- 
 an-feile of the Highlandman, and are no more to be compared to a 
 strathspey than a Toledo is to a real fluted Andrea Ferrara. The 
 major snapped his fingers, and chanted with a loud voice a verse of 
 the Grant's reel : 
 
 " There needs nae be sae great a phrase, 
 Wi' dringing- dull Italian lays, 
 I wadna g-ie our ain strathspeys 
 For half a hmidred score o' em. 
 
 They're douff an' dowie at the best 
 Douff and dowie, douff and dowie. 
 They're douff an' dowie at the best 
 Wi' a' their variorum. 
 
 They're douff jin' dowie at the cest. 
 Their allegros and a' the rest, 
 They canna please a Highland taste. 
 Compared wi' Tullochgorm." 
 
 Stuart was leading away Donna Olivia, who laughed excessively 
 at the major's song, which sounded wondrously uncouth to her ears, 
 when Campbell called to him. " I say, Stuart," said he, I am going 
 to show the ladies here a new fling. I have sent for Eanald Dhu 
 and the six pipers, Fassifern, llonald IMacdonuil, and myself, axe 
 
 T 2 
 
272 THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 about to perform the sword dance. We astonished old Mohammed 
 I)jedda ^nth it in Egypt, i'ou must join us." 
 
 " I should be most hajipy, but I am the honoured cavalier of one 
 of the prettiest girls in Aranjucz, and it is impossible I can join you ; 
 but we will witness it in the hall." 
 
 A few minutes afterwards the pipers arrived, and preparations 
 were made for the Highland dance. Claymores were taken from the 
 wall, and laid across each other on the floor. The colonel, Campbell, 
 and two other olhcers took their places, while seven pipers stood at the 
 end of the hall, and on a given signal struck up an appropriate air. 
 
 " Santa Maria!" screamed the senoras, and " Morte de D'losV* 
 prowled the senores, while they covered their ears Avitli their hands 
 to protect them from "so dangerous an invasion." Many an 
 English and Irish officer did so likewise, for the sound of the pipes 
 in tlie vaulted hall was tremendous. Away went the dancers to the 
 sound of the first note, and continued to leap, skip, and " hooch and 
 hoo ! " while they flung about with true Scottish spirit and agihty, 
 moving with miraculous precision among the bare blades of the 
 claymores, while applauses loud and long rewarded them. 'Twas a 
 new sight indeed to the Spaniards, and the eyes of every Scotsman 
 present lighted up with enthusiasm, although many of them had 
 never \vitnessed the martial dance before. Long after the others 
 had resumed their seats, the gigantic Campbell, strong, active, and 
 tilled with perfect delight, continued to dance, wave his arms and 
 the folds of his enormous kilt and plaid, until at last compelled td 
 sink into a seat, amid loud huzzas and astounding vi-cas. 
 
 Ouadrilles, galopades, and waltzes again followed, and before the 
 ball broke up, the hght of the morning sun had replaced the illu- 
 minations of the palace and its gardens. Then came the gallant 
 farewells, and shawls, mantillas, and furred shoes were in requisition, 
 the gentlemen making themselves as busy as possible in wrapping 
 up the laaies to protect them from the chill morning air ; and then, 
 muffling themselves in their cloaks, many an officer and cavalier 
 strode away behind the lumbering carriage or sedan, which conveyed 
 to her honie some lady to whom they had been particularly attentive 
 during the night, and whom, as in duty bound, they wished to 
 squire to the door of her own residence, — the streets of continental 
 cities not being very safe at these hours, when picaros and vallantes 
 of every kind are on the watch, to exercise their talents on the 
 unsuspecting or unprotected. 
 
 On the following evening a grand bull-fight was to be held in the 
 marble square, for the entertainment of the British. The splendid 
 
 mansion of the Duke of Alba de T formed nearly a whole side 
 
 of this elegant Plaza, and from its windows an excellent view could 
 be obtained. The Conde de Truxillo, Fassifern, Seaton, Lisle, and 
 Stuart, and many other officers, dined vai\i the duke that da}^ Th* 
 ladies were all smiles and beauty, although a little pale with the 
 fatigues of the preceding evening ; but Olivia, and her cousin the 
 bright-eyed condessa, were as gay and vivacious as ever. The dinner, 
 which consisted of a variety of stews, cutlets, and light confectionery, 
 began by a course of fruit, just as ours ends. Afterwards came 
 chocolate, and cigars for those gentlemen who chose to lounge o 
 the balconies, and plenty of flirting, waltzing, singing, and music 
 the piano and guitar, for those who remained with the ladies. 
 
 During the whole day preparations had been making for the 
 
THE eomance of wae. 273 
 
 approaching display. All the streets leading to the Plaza were 
 strongly barricadoed with bullock-cars, mule-carts, and everything 
 that could serve to enclose the arena, and prevent the escape of 
 the bulls. 
 
 Four of them were imprisoned in a den at one end of the square, 
 where they were undergoing a process of torture, being goaded by 
 steel pikes through holes in the roof, to rouse them to the requisite 
 pitch of madness and ferocity. It was a beautiful sunny evening, 
 and about four o'clock the people began to collect ; at six the Plaza 
 was crowded to excess, — the balconies, roofs, and windows were all 
 taken possession of, and hundreds of pennons, streamers, and 
 garlands flaunted from the houses ; while the bands of the 28th and 
 the 6th Portuguese ca^adores filled the air with strains of music, and 
 delight shone in every Spanish eye at the amusement promised by 
 their favourite national pastime. 
 
 The guests of the duke occupied the large balcony, which ex- 
 tended along the front of his house. It was covered with a piece 
 of tapestry, and the ladies were seated in front, while their cavaliers 
 stood behind. Here Stuart missed the conde, who had been 
 by l)onna Olivia's side all day. He was about to inquire for 
 him when Balthazzar suddenly appeared in the arena, arrayed in a 
 very singular garb. A small velvet cap was on his head, fully dis- 
 playing his short curly hair and fine features. He wore a close- 
 fitting doublet of black cloth slashed with white; a mantle of a 
 bright orange-colour hung on his left arm, and in his right hand he 
 carried a short pike about five feet long, the head of which was of 
 sharp and bright steel. Three other cavaliers, similarly accoutred, 
 made their appearance in the arena, and the people raised a cry of 
 " Viva Baltazar, el valiente soldado ! Viva el gracios caballero 
 Ascasihur Ynilrritegui ! Here are the bulls ! Here are the bulls !" 
 
 Balthazzar kissed his hand to Donna Olivia, who threw him a flower 
 from her breast, and he placed it in his cap, 
 
 " Beware, my poor conde," said she, " and be not over rash. Ee- 
 member that your foes are bulls from the Xamara." 
 
 " Are they diflerent from any other bulls. Donna Virginia," asked 
 Louis. 
 
 " Oh ! have you not heard ? They are the very fiercest in Spain, — 
 perhaps in the world. When once aroused, nothing tames them but 
 being slain." 
 
 " And to these the conde is about to oppose himself. Are you not 
 concerned for his safety, senoras ?" 
 
 " Balthazzar has a sharp pike and a sure heel," answered Olivia, 
 fanning herself, " and I have no fears for him," 
 
 " Have you ever seen any one killed in the arena ?" 
 
 " Yes, A bull of Xamara tossed our poor cousin, the Conde 
 Estremera, into the air, and he came down dead." 
 
 " And still you like this sport ? " said Cameron, " sport which our 
 Scottish ladies would shudder to look upon." 
 
 " Yes, senor. O viva Santissima !^' answered all the ladies at 
 once, clapping their Avhite hands, " here come the bulls !" 
 
 A shout of delight from the multitude shook the Plaza. A sort of 
 portculhs hnd been raised^ and forth from his den rushed £. bull into 
 the arena, his eyes dartmg fire, with nostrils elated, and mouth 
 covered with foam, the hair of his neck bristhng up like the mane 
 of a lion, and every muscle quivering with the torture he had 
 
2/4 THE RO^rA.VCE OV -\V^LT>.. 
 
 un<?-erRouG. He rolled liis red eyes about, as if to select a convenient 
 object to attack. The conde Avaved his orange mantle across the 
 face of the bull, which, uttcrint? a roar, plunged forward upon him. 
 Closely pursued by his formidable adversary, Truxillo ran round the 
 arena. This was the most dangerous part of the game, as a fall, or 
 the least false step, would be certain /leath. At the moment wlien 
 the bull was preparing for a grand plunge " mth hoof and horn,'* 
 the conde sprung over a barrier, dropping his mantle as he did so. 
 It was instantly transfixed and tossed into the air by the bull, which 
 was now attacked in the rear by ]}on Ascasibur, who carried a red 
 mantle and a pike, which he plunged into the brawny (lank of the 
 victim. With a roar of fury and agony, the beast thundered over 
 the marble pavement after his assailant, but was diverted from the 
 pursuit, being pierced by the pikes of a third and fourth cavalier, 
 who kept him galloping round the arena in every direction, dropping 
 their mantles and leaping the barriers whenever the danger became 
 too pressing, until he sunk exhausted and bloody at the base of 
 the statue of Charles the Fifth, where the conde put an end to its 
 agony by plunging his pike repeatedly into its body. Three others 
 were slain in the same manner, and all the performers had narrow 
 escapes for their lives at different times. The four bulls were sent 
 away to the Idtchen of the Casa de los Locos, for the benefit of the 
 patients and the poor people of the to^\'n. Extraordinary agility, 
 skill, and courage were dLsplayed by the four cavaliers in this daring 
 Spanish game, which though not less cruel, had in it, by the personal 
 risk incurred, something infinitely nobler and more chivalric than, 
 the brutal custom of bull-baiting, wliich so long disgraced South 
 Britain. 
 
 _ In the course of an hour all the bulls had fallen in succession, and 
 yielded the palm to their four tormentors, who v/ere greeted with en- 
 thusiastic applause by the multitude, on whose shoulders they were 
 lifted up, and carried by force triumphantly round the square. 
 
 When this display was over, the conde resumed the browia uniform 
 and silver epaulets of the 4th Spanish infantry, and rejoined the 
 duke's guests in the balcony, from which they were beholding other 
 feats of dexterity. A tall and powerful Spaniard, Caspar Alozegui, 
 the strongest and most athletic man in the tAvo Castiles, entered the 
 arena, bearing a large cannon-shot and a sledge-hammer. He waved 
 his broad hat to the populace, who cheered their favourite, as no 
 man yet had ever rivalled him in feats of strength and agility. 
 Taking up the cannon-shot, the weight of which I have forgotten, 
 he poised it for a moment in his hand, and then tossing it from him, 
 sent it whizzing along the pavement, as a bowler does a cricket-ball, 
 from one end of the rlaza to the other, where it rebounded against 
 the wall of a house, and lay still. Alozegui arrogantly challenged 
 any man among the thousands there assembled to throw it within 
 ten feet of the spot where it then lay, offering in that case to forfeit 
 a purse often onzas, presented to the victor by the fair patronas of 
 
 the day— the daughters of the Duke of Alba de T . Alozegui 
 
 looked around him triumphantly ; but no man answered the 
 challenge, which was not delivered in very moderate language, and 
 he now grasped the shaft of his ponderous hammer. Swinging it 
 thrice round his head, he hurled it from his hand Anth the speed of 
 a thunderbolt. The crowd for a moment held their breath, and the 
 gaze of their eyes followed the semicircle which it de-'^cribed through 
 
THE r.o:,iAXCE OP WAii. 275 
 
 the air. It al; ghtod close by the shot, and again the cheers of the 
 people broke forth ; after which Gaspar repeated his challenge, in the 
 same arrogant terms. 
 
 " Such an insolent dog as this Alozegui deserves to be beaten," said 
 the conde. 
 
 " He has thrown well," observed Stuart, as he leant over the bal- 
 cony ; " yet' the sport loses its zest when there is no competitor." 
 
 " Fiva, Alozegui," said Donna 01i\ia. " Ho deserves to kiss my 
 hand, and should but for his bushy black beard." 
 
 " I am convinced that my servant, Dugald Mhor, old as ho is, will 
 throw tliese matters farther," said Fassifern, who was indignant at 
 Alozegui's challenge, and burned with eagerness to see him beaten. 
 He spoke in English — " I suppose Dugald is below among the ser- 
 vants. He followed me here. As sure as my name is John Cameron, 
 he mil beat Alozegui." 
 
 " Let some one inquire if he is below." 
 
 " I say, colonel," cried Seaton, who was seated at the other end of 
 the balcony, with his glass at his eye ; " surely, Campbell of ours is about 
 to answer the challenge of the Spaniard. He has entered the arena." 
 
 " Now, by heavens ! v.ell done Colin, and Dugald JIhor too, — 
 honest old Dugald ! Look to yourself, Micer Alozegui ; you will 
 scarcely hold the prize against two such men," said Cameron, in great 
 glee. " Major, are you about to contend with this impudent loon ?" 
 
 "We are, indeed," replied Campbell, "and bard work the bragga- 
 docio vdW have to beat us. Dugald and I are comrades to-day, and 
 mean to show these dons the mettle of Highlandmen, and what sort 
 of muscle brose and brochan can produce. I have hurled a stone 
 three times the size of that shot from Craigfianteach into Lochawe, 
 and mean to strain every nerve to give the dons a surprise. I 
 thought it a shame that so many British men should stand by quietly 
 and let a Spaniard boast thus. Throwing the hammer is a national 
 amusement, and I hope that neither don nor denl will beat a Scots- 
 man at it. After we have conquered Senor Alozegui, Dugald and I 
 will challenge the whole crowd to a game at quoits or shinty, which- 
 ever they like best." 
 
 Alozegui, on understanding that they had answered the challenges, 
 laid the shot and hammer before them, carefully marking the places 
 where they lay : a needless precaution, as he very soon learned. 
 
 " Dugald Cameron, my man, take you the shot," said the major, 
 " and let them see that you are ' steel to the bane.' Ye showed true 
 mettle the day Alexandria was fought, and can do so here, lyart 
 though your pow may be. I will take the fore-hammer ; and now, 
 my lads ! here are two decent Highlandmen, against all the beardea 
 braggarts on this side of the Pyrenees." 
 
 _ " I am auld enough to be his gutcher twice ower and mair. as my 
 siller haffets and runkled cheeks may tell you ; but I will never 
 shrink frae the task when a Heiland gentleman like your honour 
 commands me," said Dugald, as he cast dovna his bonnet, sword, and 
 plaid ; and taking up the ball as if it had been a walnut, without 
 once looking at it, threw it over the houses at the end of the square, 
 by a single swing of his arm. 
 
 "The Cameron for ever ! Well done, Dugald ! " exclaimed the 
 major, " A foot lower, and the Emperor had lost his head, which 
 would have spoiled all the sport." 
 
 Dugald laughed, stroked down his white hairs, and casting his 
 
i 
 
 TUE UOMANCE OF ^'AR. 
 
 )laid around him, withdrew under the bcalcony where the deUghted 
 ^'ii^silern was standing. He received a cheer, though not a very 
 cordial one, from the people ; and Alozegui bestowed upon him a 
 most formidable scowl of rage and hatred, to which he replied by a 
 laugh, and a direction to " gie the gowd he had tint to the puir folk." 
 Now came the major's turn, and the Spaniard began to tremble for 
 his fame. The former, after examining the ponderous hammer, tO' 
 assure himself that the handle was firnily fixed into it, swung it once 
 around his head, and straining every muscle to conquer, cast it from 
 his hand Avith a force and s^viftness truly amazing. Describing a 
 complete arch over the spacious Plaza, it whirled through the air, 
 and passing over the houses of an adjacent street, lighted among the 
 reeds on the banks of the Tagus, where it was discovered next day. 
 However, it could not be found for that night ; and the only reward 
 Campbell received from the Spaniards for his prowess, was the half- 
 muttered ejaculation of astonishment at the flight taken by th(^ 
 missile. The dons were very angry at their hero being beaten by a 
 foreigner and heretic,, and so astonished at his wonderful strength,, 
 that they readily adopted the opinion of some old Capuchine padres 
 " that he had been assisted by the devil.'' 
 
 " Hoich, major ! Aveel done," shouted old Dugald, waving his bon- 
 net. " Pair play a' the warld ower, — Cothram nafeine* as we say at 
 hame in Lochiel. Perntosh and barley-bannock are the stuflFto mak' 
 men o' ; no accadenty and snail-broth, — deevil tak' them baith ! " 
 
 "Long life to you, major !" cried many of the Highlanders ; and 
 hundreds of soldiers belonging to the 66th, 34th, and other cori^s of 
 the division, huzzaed him loudly. On receiving from the duke's con- 
 taclor (steward) the purse of thirty onzas, Campbell, knowing that 
 Dugald was too proud to touch a maravedi of the money, placed it 
 in the hands of Alozegui, telling him not to be cast down, as Dugald 
 and himself had beaten better men than ever trod the realm of 
 Spain. This taunt only stung more deeply the fiery and enraged 
 Spaniard, who scorned to receive the purse, which he tossed among 
 the people, and leaping over the barriers, disappeared. Campbell 
 waved his hummel-bonnet (a plain cap without feathers) to the 
 assembled multitude, and withdrew to finish the night over a pig- 
 skin with Don Ascasibur, and tell endless narratives about Egypt- 
 and Sir Ealph. 
 
 During that evening, from a thousand little circumstances which 
 it is needless to rehearse, it Avas evident to Eonald that Louis Lisle 
 was deeply enamoured of the beautiful Virginia ; and that she was 
 not unfavourable to him was also manifest, although she took every 
 means to conceal it ; but llonald had a sharp eye for these matters. 
 AVliat the opinion of the proud old duke might be on such a subject 
 it was not diflicult to say ; and his conscience would not in the least 
 have prevented him from eniplojing the poniard of some matador to 
 rid his family of such a suitor. However, his mind was at that 
 moment too much taken up ^nth political schemes to permit him to 
 observe the grooving passion between his daughter and the young 
 Scottish subaltern, towhom twenty days' residence in his palace had 
 given every opportunity to press his suit that a lover could desire. 
 
 The party at the De T palace broke up about eleven o'clock, 
 
 and ruminating on the probabilities of Louis's winning the donna, 
 
 should he really propose for her hand, Honald passed slowly through 
 
 * The equal battle of the Fingalians,— a Highland proverb. 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAli. 
 
 Ihe marble square, and down a street leading towards his billet, 
 which was near the Calle Mayor. A gush of light, streaming mto' 
 the darkness through the open portal and traceried >vindows of an 
 illuminated chapel, invited him to enter, in expectation of beholding 
 some solemn religious ceremonj'; but the building was entirely 
 empty, and the blaze of light proceeded from some hundreds of 
 tapers burning around the gilded shrine of the patron saint of Aran- 
 juez. Prom this spot a strong Hood of crimson hght glared through 
 the nave and chancel, tinging with the hue of blood the black marble 
 pavement, the slender pillars, and the groined roof of fretted stone- 
 work. Many mouldy portraits of saints adorned the walls ; around 
 the lighted shrine were hung certain strange memorials, placed there 
 by the piety of those whom the saint was supposed to have cured. 
 Crutches, even wooden legs, and many stuccoed casts of deformed 
 limbs, were there displayed, all doubtless the work of cunning priests, 
 to impose upon the credulity of the Spaniards. But what chiefly 
 raised his wonder, was some hundred little images of children, mth 
 which the place was absolutely crowded. 
 
 His attention was next attracted by several standards, the trophies 
 of war, which hung from the highest part of the chapel, where the 
 roof rose somewhat in the form of a dome. These belonged to- 
 various nations ; and one, by the crescents on it, he judged to be 
 Moorish ; but the other two he remarked more particularly. The 
 one was the ensign of a British ship of war which had been wrecked 
 on the coast of Spain ; the other was an ancient Scottish standard 
 of white silk, crossed with St. Andrew's blue cross, and splendidly 
 embroidered with silver thistles. About the latter he could not 
 obtain the least information, although he made every inquiry next 
 day. But it Avas probably the regimental colour of some of the Scot- 
 tish auxiliaries who served in the Low Countries against the Emperor 
 Charles the l^ifth. Itonald was revolving in his own mind the means 
 of capturing or destroying both these standards, when the entrance- 
 of the Conde de Truxillo diverted him from his purpose, and saved 
 to the Spaniards those trophies which most likely still adorn the 
 chapel royal of Aranjuez. 
 
 " What adventure are you in search of now, senor, that you have 
 not yet sought your billet in the Calle Mayor ?" 
 
 " I understand," replied the conde, " that the Carbineros of Medina 
 del Campo marched into Aranjuez about sunset. I have a very dear 
 brother, an oflicer in them, and I am searching for some one to direct 
 me to his quarters, late as the hour is. Manuel and I were very dear 
 friends in youth, being educated together at our old castle near 
 TruxJJlo ; but we have not seen each other for six years, as our regi- 
 ments have always campaigned in different provinces. He was a 
 slender youth, without a hair on his lip, when I saw liim last, but 
 now he must be a stout and well- whiskered cavalier. Ah. how much 
 I long to behold him !" 
 
 " I regret, conde, that I can give you no information as to where 
 the quarters of the Carbineros are. Some of the quarter-guards 
 may perhaps inform you." 
 
 " Ho ! senor Stuart," exclaimed Truxillo, as his eye fell on the 
 shrine with all its little images and blazing tapers. " Lo ! you novv 
 behold what rogues our padres are. Do you know the meaning of 
 all these images?" 
 " No. I own I was somewhat puzzled to discover " 
 
278 THE E0MAJ7CE OF Y^AS. 
 
 " Well, senor," answered Truxillo with a loud laugh. " all these are 
 the images of children born unto ladies who had long pined for 
 them before they had visited this miraculous shrine, — so the monks 
 tell us." 
 
 " Strange, if true." 
 
 " Its reputed sanctity is truly amazing; and all the dames of old 
 and new Castile. Leon, and Arragon consider a visit to this place a 
 sovereign remedy. Tney are shown the tomb of the saint in the 
 vaults below ; and its influence, aided by the attentions of a few stout 
 
 padres, certainly has brought about singular cures ; and But 
 
 nere comes ray servant • he has been searching for the quarters of 
 the Carbineros, and will Hah !" exclaimed Truxillo, his counte- 
 nance changing as a servant belonging to the De T family entered 
 
 the chapel, " do you seek me P " 
 
 The servant, who wore the orange-coloured hvery of the duke, 
 replied by whispering something into the ear of Don Balthazzar, 
 whose " brow grew black as thunder." 
 
 " Falsijicador ! madman ! what is this you have dared to tell me ?* 
 he exclaimed, furiously grasping the menial by the throat. 
 
 " The solemn truth, most noble conde. Release me ! San Juan 
 in the wilderness could not speak more truly. I am faithful to you. 
 I am, by the Virgin ! — Oh ! — " It is probable the fellow would 
 never have spoken again, had not Eonala released his neck from the 
 clutch of the conde. 
 
 " Cavalier ! " exclaimed the latter, seizing Eonald's hand, " I know 
 you to be brave and honourable as man can be. I have been basely 
 betrayed this night. Will you follow me, that I may recover my lost 
 honour, or perish ? A deadly insult has been offered to me." 
 
 " I pledge you my word I will, Balthazzar. But what has this 
 trembling blockhead told you ?" 
 
 " Satanas ! that Donna Olivia, to whom not an hour ago 1 plighted 
 my love and troth, has even now a cavalier in her chamber." 
 
 " Impossible ; he lies ! " 
 
 "He does not — I know that he does not. I have bribed him to 
 watch his mistress, and have long found him faithful. But Olivia, 
 false and base Olivia ! I have long suspected her falsehood and 
 coquetry, and this night I will fearfully revenge them both upon 
 herself. It must be Carlos Avallo. Malediction ! I \yl\\ slay him 
 before her face. By our Lady of the Rock ! my most sacred oath, I 
 swear it ! " 
 
 Balthazzar rushed away from the chapel, and Stuart followed to 
 prevent him, if possible, from committing any outrage, and pursued 
 nim through the dark streets at his utmost speed. In a few seconds 
 they stood before the mansion they had quitted but a short time ago. 
 It was completely involved in darkness, save one room, from tne 
 Avindows of which a light straggled through the white curtains upon 
 the balcony from which they had witnessed the bull-fight. 
 
 " The sisters sleep in separate apartments ; that is Olivia's," whis- 
 pered Truxillo, in a voice husky mth the passions which possessed 
 his heart. " Did you not see a tall shadow pass the window ?" 
 
 "Let me entreat you, noble conde, to stay — to hold but for a 
 single moment !" 
 
 Car a jo ! may it be my last if I do !" replied the other fiercely, as 
 he grasped a carved stone ornament projecting from the wall, and 
 swung himself into the balcony, where he drew his sword, and ap- 
 
THJE, EOMAKCE OF -\YAR. 273 
 
 plied his eye to the opening of the window curtains. Apprehensive 
 that he might commit some rash deed, llonald followed him, but 
 with infinite trouble, rage having enabled the conde to cUmb by 
 means which the other could not find. He was not without some 
 secret fears that this rival cavalier might be Louis Lisle, and grasping 
 Truxillo by the arm, he detained him by main force : and had the 
 parties Avithin been less occupied with themselves than they were, 
 they must undoubtedly have heard the half-muttered threats of 
 Balthazzar, and the scuffling which ensued on the balcony. 
 
 Through the half-opened casement they surveyed the chamber 
 and its occupants. The sleeping-place of the donna was certainly a 
 splendid one ; the hangings, the chairs, the bed, and covering of the 
 estrado, raised at one end of the floor, were all of white or rose- 
 colourea velvet, fringed and embroidered with gold, and everything 
 else was of corresponding richness. A lamp, the globe of which was 
 ofrose-colom-ed glass, shed a warm light through the apartment; 
 ■and three large vases of fresh flowers, placed on the verge of the 
 estrado, gave forth an agreeable perfume. In a splendid easy chair, 
 which glittered with gilding and gilt nails, the beautiful Olivia was 
 seated near her toilet-table, — the looseness of her dress and the 
 disorder of her ringlets shoAving that she had been preparing for 
 repose before her visitor had entered by the window, a place of 
 ingress used oftener than the door by Spanish lovers. An officer in 
 a Spanish cavalry uniform was kneeling at her feet, and his cloak and 
 helmet lay on the floor near him. 
 
 " Lo ! holy Virgin, a pretty piece of daring," said the lady as they 
 approached the window. 
 
 " Pardon me, beautiful one," said the officer ; " and remember, 
 that if I had not visited you thus, I might never have seen you at all." 
 
 " And what then, senor ? " 
 
 " Cruel Olivia ! can you trifle with a passion so earnest as mine ? " 
 
 " A pretty fellow, to visit me like a bravo by the window, mth a 
 sword in your hand. This vAW teach me to bolt my shutters more 
 securely. Come now, senor, I have heard quite enough of tliis : you 
 must retire. O santos ! should you be seen ! " 
 
 " Heartless Olivia ! and you bid me leave you thus ? " 
 
 " Heartless ? You are mighty gallant, mi amigo ! " 
 
 " llemember that we march to-morrow, and I may never see you 
 again." 
 
 " Well, I suppose I shall not want for a husband. The Conde of 
 Truxillo, Pedro de Esquivias, or Carlos Avallo will, any of them, be 
 glad to have me when I choose. O 'tis a gay thing to be loved by 
 many cavaliers ! But leave me, I entreat— no, command you ! " 
 said the lady, curling up her black tresses with her white slender 
 fingers. 
 
 Grant me but a single kiss, Olivia, and I will retire never to 
 trouble you again. I will seek death in our first encounter with the 
 enemy." 
 
 " You love yourseK too well for that." 
 
 " Grant me but one salute, and I leave you. Oh, after all the 
 misery of my long year's absence, do not refuse me that ! " 
 
 " Take it, thou false picaro, and be gone," replied the coquettish 
 girl, pouting her cherry mouth, towards which the cavalier advanced 
 ills well-moustached lip. 
 
 " Perish first ! " exclaimed the enraged Truxillo, rushing forward 
 
2S0 THE BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 and driving his sword through the back and breast of the un fortunate 
 lo\er. " Die in your audacity, whoever you arc, you false interloper! 
 Die, villain ! " he added, reneating the stab : and the cavalier died 
 without a groan. " Parewell for ever, false Olivia," cried the savage 
 conde ; " and remember, that my love, unworthy as you are of it, 
 alone protects you from the elfects of my fury and disappointment ! " 
 He was about to leave the place, when his eye fell upon the counte- 
 nance of the cavalier he had so ruthlessly and rashly slain. He was 
 now lying stark and dead, the blood from his wounds streaming over 
 the oaken floor of the room. Truxillo groaned deeply, and striking 
 his forehead, staggered back, dropping Uis sword, while his counte- 
 nance became pale and livid. 
 
 " Ei Inspirit u Santo santissimo ! O Dios mio!" he cried in a 
 husky voice, the tone of which was heart-piercing and horrible, " I 
 have slain my brother, — my brave brother ! O Maunel el Carhinero, 
 — is it you I have murdered ? Ten thousand maledictions blast you, 
 false woman ! blast you, and follow you to all eternity ! 'Tis you 
 have wrought me this deadly sin ! " and rushing into the balcony he 
 sprung into the street, leaving Konald in the apartment of the lady, 
 standing irresolute and stupefied with amazement at the suddenness 
 of this catastrophe, which came to pass in less time than I have taken 
 to record it. Olivia, Avhose voice had at first failed her in the 
 extremity of her terror, now shrieked long and loudly to arouse the 
 household, which she did so effectually, that pn three minutes they 
 were all mustered in her chamber, armed wiih all sorts of weapons, 
 and among others Lisle with his drawn sword. Great indeed was 
 their a^^tonishment to see Ronald in the sleeping-room of Donna 
 Olivia, at midnight, and an officer lying dead on the floor, weltering 
 in a pool of blood. All clamorously demanded an explanation of 
 this singular scene, and the indignation of the old duke it is impos- 
 sible to describe, such room was there for scandal in the story of a 
 cavalier being slain at night in the bed-room of his daughter. 
 Diavolo ! thought he, all Spain, from Cape Ortegal to Gibraltar, 
 ■will be ringing with the tale ! Some of the females attempted to 
 recover the lady, who had sunk on her bed in a swoon; while the 
 others required llonald, in shrill tones of anger and surprise, to give 
 a detail of the matter. This he hesitated to do, not '^^■ishing to 
 criminate the conde, and still less wishing to betaken for the culprit 
 himself. 
 
 In this dilemma the bustle and commotion were increased by the 
 arri val of a pompous old alcalde, who dwelt opposite, and Senor 
 Eubio, the notary, with six alguazils, who were for arresting Eonald 
 on the instant; but, laying his hand on the hilt of his dirk, he 
 vowed to run through the heart the first who laid a finger upon him ; 
 upon which the limbs of the law, recoiling, began to handle the locks 
 of their heavy trabucos, and more blood would probably have been 
 shed, had not the alcalde interfered. 
 
 This magistrate, whose person and authority the duke had always 
 treated with contempt, was very glad to have opportunity of aflronting 
 him ; and assuming as much consequence as he could, he administered 
 an oath to Ronald In the Spanish manner, by swearing him across 
 his sword and dirk, and then desiring him to relate what he knew 
 of this matter, — and word for word his relation was committed to* 
 writing by the keen-eyed and sharp-visaged little notary. English- 
 men might have doubted the relation ; but in Spain tlie wordi of an 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WA.ll. 281 
 
 Honourable cavalier are not to be questioned, and the account proving 
 satisfactory to the alcalde, in so far as concerned lionald Stuart, he 
 was permitted to retire ; while Senor Rubio, and the six men with 
 blunderbusses, were sent off in pursuit of the conde, whom they 
 discovered on his knees before the very shrine he had made the 
 subject of his jests an hour before. Three days afterwards he was 
 tried by a general court-martial, composed of Spanish officers, — the 
 General de Costa being president. Every man supposed his death 
 to be certain, but he was, strange to say, acquitted. Yet life Avas no 
 boon to poor Truxillo, who, being continually haunted by the miserable 
 death of his brother, became reckless of existence, and by throwing 
 himself madly in the way of danger, endeavoured to perish in 
 expiation of the crime he had committed in the blindness of his rage 
 and jealousy. 
 
 This occurrence appeared for the present to be a death-blow to tliG 
 hopes of Louis Lisle. On the following day the duke quitted 
 Aranjuez with his family, retiring suddenly no one knew whither. 
 He was so much enraged against Olivia, who indeed was not to 
 blame, that he threatened to disgrace her for ever, by incarcerating 
 her in the Monasterio de los Arrepentidds of Seville, but the tears 
 and entreaties of Donna Virginia made him change his intention : 
 the sisters were separated, and for ever. OXixrai was sent off to 
 Gahcia^ and confined in a solitary convent among the wild ridges of 
 the Sierra de Mondonedo, where, if living, she probably still resides. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVL 
 
 THE SKIRMISH OF FUENTE DIJENNA.—THE LEAGUER OF ALBA DE 
 
 TOEMES. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of October the legions of Marshals Jourdan 
 and Soult, having formed a junction, advanced, under the com- 
 mand of the latter, fifty thousand strong, from Valencia on 
 Madrid, and in a short time arrived mthin a few leagues of Aranjuez. 
 Combining his forces with those of Generals Elio and Freire, and 
 with the Spaniards of Don Carlos de Espagna, Sir Rowland Hill, at 
 the head of forty thousand well-tried soldiers, moved to meet them, 
 commencing his march from Aranjuez on the 23rd of October. 
 Many a sorrowful farewell was said that morning, and many a bright 
 «ye grew dim as the retiring sound of the British drums died away 
 among the windings of the Tagus. Crossing the latter, immediately 
 below the walls of the palace, the division marched to Colmenare de 
 Orijo, a town of Toledo. Here different brigades were posted at the 
 several fords of the Tagus, by which Soult's infantry might attempt 
 to pass. That at Euente Duenna fell to the lot of the first brigade. 
 On Ifhe second day after their bivouacking there, a party of the 
 enemy's cavalry were seen approaching the river, either to cross or 
 reconnoitre. The hght company of the Gordon Highlanders, and 
 Captain Blacier's company of the German rifles, were ordered to 
 receive them at the ford. Unluckily for himself, Lisle accompanied 
 " the light bobs" on this occasion as a volunteer, in place of an officer 
 who was sick. Seaton commanded the whole, and he placed the 
 -companies in ambush among some laurel-bushes, Anllows, aud long 
 
882 THE EOMANCE OF WAK, 
 
 reeds, which grew by the water-side, overlooldng the place where 
 the dragoons must cross if such was their intention. The High- 
 landers knelt down on the right knee, but the Germans, who were 
 posted among the reeds, lay Hat on the ground, and levelled their 
 short rifles over the glazed tops of their suakoes which they placed 
 ocfore them. All were ready to let fly a volley among the unsuspect- 
 ing Frenchmen, who came forward at a gallop with their carbines 
 unslung. The party consisted of nearly eighty heavy dragoons. An 
 oflicer of cuirassiers and two others in staff uniform accompaniea 
 them. They drew their bridles at the brink of the river, and from 
 his i)lace of concealment Stuart recognised his friend De Mesmai in 
 the cuirassier : and in one of the stall" ofliciers. Monsieur Law^ the 
 Earon de Clappourknuis, in the other their late host at Aranjuez, 
 the Duke of Alba de T . 
 
 " Stuart," whispered Lisle, ''is it possible, that the officer without 
 the epaulets is really the duke ? " 
 
 " AVithout doubt 'tis he." 
 
 " How base and treacherous ! " 
 
 " He will receive the reward of his treason instantly. It has 
 always been whispered that he was false to King Ferdinand and his 
 allies. A base ^vretch ! to join the invaders of Spain when so many 
 brave men are struggling with heart and hand to free her from the 
 grasp of the Buonapartes. Evan, bring that oliicer down. jMark 
 him when the word is given to fire." 
 
 " AVere he as fause as Menteith, an ounce o' cauld leed will settle 
 him," replied Evan, blowing some loose powder from his lock. " I'll 
 tak' him canny, and wing him aucht inches below the oxter, — that's 
 just in the belt." 
 
 " Xo, no, for God's sake ! " whispered Louis to Stuart. " He is the 
 father of Vu'ginia de Alba, and were he as false as Judas, that would 
 save liim." 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered Seaton, in the same low tone ; "they are con- 
 versing, and I should be glad to hear the news from Valencia." 
 
 "Monsieur le Due "will perhaps be so good as to inform us where- 
 abouts this infernal bridge of Puente Duenna lies?" said De 
 Mesmai. 
 
 " Ah ! " chimed in the baron, in Spanish, " this is the place marked 
 by the marshal in his map." 
 
 " The bridge lies lower down the river," replied the duke ; " but 
 there is a ford in this neighbourhood, which I vri\l have the honour 
 to show you, senores." 
 
 " Do so, in the devil's name ! " replied De Mesmai hastily, while 
 he surveyed the duke 'with an expression on his dark face which 
 showed hoAv much he despised such an auxiliary, notwithstanding 
 his rank, " We have ridden quite far enough to see this ford, and 
 when you have shown it to the baron, I will condescend to thanK 
 you." 
 
 " De Mesmai ! " said the baron, holding up his hand wamingly. 
 
 "Bah! Monsieur le Baron,— 1 comprehend; the British may 
 look for a visit in the morning, which will yield them more danger 
 than delight. "With your permission. Monsieur Law, after recon- 
 noitring this ford we will retire as soon as possible, becartjo J httJe 
 like riding here in such open ground. These bushes oppoxate might 
 contain a thousand riflemen, or some of your bare-legg*:d ];r-3l''uren, 
 than whom I would rather face the devil. I have proTided a whits 
 
THE EOAIANCE Or WAR. 283 
 
 stake to drive into the ground, whicli will mark the ford for 
 Lamorciere's chasseurs, who lead the way in our attack on Hill's 
 troops to-night." 
 
 " Colonel Lamorciere shall ho welcome," said Seaton, as De Mesmai 
 moved his horse along the bank of the river, chanting gaily an oW 
 rondeau beginning Avith,— 
 
 •' Pauvres Anglais 
 Vous n'ltfez que de Varrogance, 
 Pauvres Anglais" ^c. 8jc. 
 
 At that moment the Highland bugle-boy, who knelt oy Seaton's 
 side, sounded "Jire ! " 
 
 The bugle of the Germans answered on the left, and a deadly 
 volley which enveloped the whole place in smoke, was poured upon 
 the French, nearly one-half of whom fell from their saddles. Horses 
 were seen galloping off in all directions, dragging their riders by the 
 stirrup, or leaving them dead or dying on the ground. The traitor 
 dashed his spurs into his horse's flanks and fled at full gallop, followed 
 by the baron. But not so De Mesmai, whom this unexpected volley 
 had filled with the utmost astonishment and ferocity, although it 
 struck a temporary panic into the dragoons. 
 
 "l^eYengei mes camarades. Follow me, — charge! By the name 
 of the bomb! I j-vill cleave to the gorget the first dastard who 
 attempts to fly. l Ive VEmpereiir ! Forward — charge ! " 
 
 Animated by his example, they crossed the ford at a gallop, dashing 
 the water right and left ; and forcing their horses up to the bank, 
 even while exposed to a hot fire, they fell furiously with hoof and 
 blade among the scattered Highlanders. It was a piece of unex- 
 ampled daring for a few dragoons to cross a river thus, under a hot 
 fire from concealed musketry. 
 
 " Vive VBrnpereu)' ! No quarter to the Germans ! " shouted De 
 Mesmai, leaping his horse over the underwood. 
 
 " Form square ! " cried the deep and manly voice of Seaton. 
 " Eally— rally ! Quick, Highlanders, or you will be cut to pieces! 
 Close to the centre, Germans and all ; blow ' the assembly ' bugler ! 
 Hurrah, my lads ! Shoulder to shoulder, Highlandmen ! and give 
 them the bayonet." With the speed of thought a rallying square 
 was formed. Blacier's Germans and the Highlanders mingled, the 
 long cross-hilted daggers of the former acting efliciently as bayonets 
 when fixed to the niuzzles of their rifles. Ronald, while dressing, as 
 it is technically termed, one of the faces of the square, narrowly 
 escaped a cut aimed at him by a dragoon, who was instantly shot by 
 Angus Mackie, a private next to him ; and Seaton had the feathers 
 of his bonnet shred away by a stroke from De Mesmai's sword. 
 But the cavalry seldom came within a pike's length of them ; the 
 stunted brushwood, the broken nature of the ground, and the 
 prostrate men and horses encumbered their advance, while the steady 
 fire of the little square disheartened and (hsconcerted them. After 
 two brave attempts to break the band of infantry, De Mesmai was 
 compelled to recross the ford, leaving sixty dragoons killed or 
 v/ounded behind him. Notwithstanding the iiasty nature of their 
 retreat, the twenty who retired with him cut down and carried o(f 
 several of the straggling riflemen, dragging them across their holster- 
 flaps by main strength of arm. Some of the^^e they were soon com- 
 pelled to di'op, when galled in retreat by the fire of the victorious light 
 
28-t THE ROiTANCE OF WAR. 
 
 infantry, who n^ain lined tho bank, and kept blazing away so long &a 
 "iboy were Mitliin ran tie. 
 
 "Well done, GOth ! " exclaimed Seaton, as he mustered the com- 
 panies together. " 'Tis hard to say whether the green jackets or the 
 tartan kilts have distinguished themselves most this morning. 
 Lamorcierc's cha.'^seurs will have need of other guides than the 
 dragoons, if they visit the ford to-night." 
 
 " Ecli ! Capitan Seetun, ve hab gioben dem der ievfels hraden for 
 breakfiist, — ech, ech ! " replied Blacier, cramming a quantity of 
 tobacco into the bowl of a huge pipe, Avhicli he had pulled from the 
 "jnouth of a serjeant and transferred to his own. " Someting more 
 bettcrer dan wahr-sagen vill show dem de foord dis nicht, — de 
 dragoons scarcely vill." 
 
 " Ko ; I believe not, Blacier, my old boy ! 1 shall recommend you 
 to the notice of Sir llowland in my account of this affair. You have 
 long deserved the brevet." 
 
 '' Der tetifel hole dich ! I tink so. Much obleege — much obleege 
 to you." 
 
 The Germans had suffered a little in this sku'mish, several having 
 been sabred by the French ; but only two Highlanders were killed, 
 and these by carbine shots. Everywhere around the ground was 
 strewed with helmets, holsters, sabres, carbines, and the bodies of 
 men and of horses, rolling about in agony, or lying motionless and 
 still in death. Sometimes a head, a boot and spur, or a gauntleted 
 hand rose above the clear current of the Tagus, and then sunk for 
 ever, as some wounded straggler Avas swept down by the stream. All 
 the arms and accoutrements lying scattered about were, in conformity 
 with the usual practice, dashed to pieces and completely destroyed by 
 the victors. 
 
 " We have escaped easily in this affair," said Seaton, as he mustered 
 liis light company, " only a file of men killed ; it might have been 
 otherwise, had we formed square less promptly. You have done 
 well, my gallant green feathers ; you will get an extra ration of 
 grog for this morning's work ! " The Highlanders responded by a 
 cheer. 
 
 " The Germans have lost many ; they lie pretty thick by the water- 
 side." 
 
 " Owing to their own want of alacrity in answering the bugle-call. 
 Many of them have their heads cloven down, even through the thick 
 shako." 
 
 " This will teach the survivors to be smarter in future. But where 
 is Lisle ? " 
 
 " Stuart, by all that is sacred he has fallen into the hands of the 
 enemy ! " 
 
 " He was close beside me at the moment the bugle sounded to form 
 •square, and I have not seen him since." 
 
 " I am afraid, sir, j\Ir. Lisle is either killed or taeu awa' prisoner,'* 
 said Serjeant Macrone, whose bare knee was streaming Avith blood, 
 which he endeavoured to stanch by a piece of tartan rent from a 
 plaid. 
 
 " I saw him stagger under the stroke of a sabre at the moment the 
 dragoons broke frae the bushes amang us," observed another serjeant, 
 advancing his pike. 
 
 " And has any man seen him since ? " asked Stuart of the company 
 breathlessly. Angus Mackie and several others replied that they 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAK. 285 
 
 hadj but their statements differed so much, that it was impossible to 
 come to any conclusion. One declared he had seen him killed " by 
 a cloure on the croon, and that he never moved after it ; " another 
 stated that he slew the dragoon who wounded him, but all agreed 
 that he had never gained the shelter of the rallying square. Evan 
 Iverach declared that, " as sure as death he saw puir Maister Lisle 
 i^ippit by the cragie, and dragged av/a' by the officer of the 
 cuirassiers." This last statement appeared the most probable, as no 
 traces of poor Louis could be discovered on the ground save his 
 sword and bonnet ; and Stuart had a dim recollection of seeing a red 
 uniform among a few prisoners whom De Mesmai's dragoons suc- 
 ceeded in carrying off amid the smoke and confusion, 
 
 Prom Villa Corrijos Ronald next day wrote to Ahce, giving an 
 account of her brother's capture in the skirmish at Fuente Duenna ; 
 and Avhile he deplored the event, he said not a word of his fears that 
 he was desperately wounded. He had very little doubt that he must 
 have been so, othermse De Mesmai, strong and muscular as he was, 
 would have found it no easy task to carry off Louis in the singular 
 manner he did. 
 
 Sir Eowland Hill, on discovering that King Joseph and Marshal 
 Soult were manoeuvi-ing to outflank him, prepared instantly to 
 frustrate their intentions, and give them battle. Making forced 
 marches by day and night at the head of the British, Spanish, and 
 Portuguese troops he had collected together, he skilfully took up <a 
 strong position in front of Aranjuez, intending there to await the 
 arrival of the enemy. 
 
 The troops passed the Puento Largo at midnight, A detachment 
 of miners were making preparations to blow it up ; and their red 
 lights, burning under the ancient arches, and twinkling on the 
 sluggish waters of the Jacama, presented a singular appearance as 
 the regiments marched above them towards the hills, where the 
 position was taken before daybreak. But no battle ensued. A 
 despatch arrived from the Marquis of Wellington, saying that he 
 had been forced temporarily to abandon the siege of Burgos, and 
 order an immediate retreat into winter-quarters in Leon and Estre- 
 madura, — a sad and most unlooked-for reverse of fortune to the 
 army, who had driven the enemy before them into Valencia and the 
 northern provinces. Marching through the wide and fertile plains, 
 in the midst of which rises Madrid, the second division commencea 
 its retreat, in obedience to this order. Passing close by the waWs or 
 earthen defences of the Spanish capital, they bivouacked at the 
 distance of a league from it. There was no time to pitch tents, and 
 the troops lay on the ground without them, exposed to all the misery 
 of a most tempestuous night of wind and rain. Next night they 
 were comfortably lodged in the village and spacious palace of the 
 Escurial. Eonald's light company were quartered in the royal 
 chapel, a building which contains the tombs of all the Spanish 
 monarchs, from Charles the Pifth down to the present age. Crossing 
 the Guadarama, or sandy river, at a village of the same name, the 
 great mountain was ascended, through which lies the famous 
 Guadarama Pass, and from which an extensive view of the surround- 
 ing country is obtained. 
 
 The mountains were growing dark as the setting sun, enveloped in 
 dun clouds, sank far behind them, and the etlect of the scenery was 
 considerably heightened by the march of so many thousand men— 
 
 n. u 
 
£S6 THE EOilAKCE OF WAU. 
 
 cavalry, infantry, and artillery — up the winding pathway among the 
 .silent and solitary defiles, disappearing, section after section, with 
 colours wa\ing and arms glittering, down the deep pass of tho 
 Guadarama. Afar oil', on the plains of ]\Iadrid, leagues in their rear, 
 clouds of dust rolhng along the green landscape, marked where tho 
 pursuing squadrons and battalions of Soult followed the route of Sir 
 liowlaud with i)recision and ra.pidity. 
 
 On the 8lh of November, to cover the retreat of the whole army, 
 and to stay Soult's advance, the first brigade was ordered to defend, 
 to the last extremity, the town of Alba de Tormes, near the eastern 
 borders of the ancient kingdom of Jjcon ; a forlorn sort of duty, when 
 it is remembered that so small a band were to oppose the con- 
 centrated Trench army, 90,000 strong, 1 believe. On being reinforced 
 by General Hamilton's Portuguese brigade, and two companies of 
 Spaniards under the Coude de Truxillo, every means were taken to 
 render the place as strong as possible, by erecting trenches and 
 barricading the streets, — almost useless precautions, as the to\\u, 
 which lies low, is commanded by tvi'o adjacent heights. Its appear- 
 ance, when the brigade entered it, Avas indeed miserable and desolate, 
 having been completely deserted by the inhabitants, into whose 
 hearts the retreat of the British and the advance of the Prench had 
 stricken terror. 
 
 The soldiers had tasted nothing for thirty-six hours ; and although 
 drenched with rain, and wearied by a hard and forced march, had 
 to remam under arms around the old and ruinous Moorish wall of 
 Alba, during a very chill November night. About dawn, as no 
 enemy Lad yet appeared, after guards had been posted, the troops 
 were dismissed to take up their quarters in the dreary and empty 
 houses, Avhere everything had been carried off or destroyed by the 
 inhabitants before their flight. The drizzling rain which had fallen 
 during the night, had drenched them to the skin, but a dry article 
 of clothing was not to be had, as the baggage was far away on the 
 road to the rear. However, doors and shutters were torn down from 
 the houses, and blazing flres Idndled on the tiled floors, around which 
 ofhcers and soldiers crowded together without ceremony. Another 
 day of starvation was before them, — untold gold could not have pro- 
 duced an ounce of flour in Alba. At night, by the great exertions 
 of the commissary, some horse-beans were procured, and a handful 
 given to every man ; but early next morning some muleteers arrived 
 irom Corde Villar, bringing a few small bags of flour, w^hich were 
 3'eceived with wild demonstrations of thankfulness and joy by the 
 starving brigade. 
 
 Every man Avho could bake was set to work, and the ovens were 
 speedily tilled \Aith tommies, as the poor fellows designated their 
 loaves, and expectant crowds, with eager eyes and hollow cheeks, 
 stood waiting around the bake-house doors. 
 
 The hot and smoking bread was scarcely brought forth for equal 
 distribution, before the bugles sounded, and the distant reports of 
 carbines announced that the enemy were coming on ; and the picquet 
 of the 9th light di-agoous, posted in front of the town, had begun to 
 retire before tho heavy cavalry of Soult. " Stand to your arms ! " 
 was now the ci-y on all sides, and a scramble and uproar ensued 
 among the soldiers at the ovens. The hot loaves were torn to pieces 
 m handftils and scattered about] and many who had fasted for eight- 
 
THE ROMANCE OF TVAH. 287 
 
 aud-forty hours (the repast of horse-beans excepted) received nothing, 
 -^vhilo too much iell to the share of others. 
 
 Eonald was unfortunately amon;^ the former, as it was impossible 
 for an officer to struggle for a mouthful of food among the men, and 
 until that day he never knew what it was to experience the utmost 
 extremity of "hunger. But there was no help for it then ; and vent- 
 ing a hearty malediction on the Duke of J)almatia, he joined the 
 light company, Avhich lined a part of the Moorish vrall lacing the 
 direction in which the enemy were momently expected to appear. 
 The trenches, barricades, and other hastily-erected works, were 
 manned, and two hundred of the Highland light infantry were 
 placed in the ancient castle of Alba, a lofty round tower built by tlie 
 floors. The rest of the troops, not engaged in lining the walls, 
 occupied those streets which would protect them from the view and 
 lire of the enemy ; and General Howard ordered a part of the 
 regiment of sappers to undermine the bridge over the Tormes, which 
 at "Alba is both deep and rapid, to the end that it might be blown 
 up, to cut off the pursuit of the enemy, when the British were com- 
 pelled to abandon the town. The light dragoons, retiring through 
 Alba, halted on the other side of the river to await the event, and 
 immediately afterwards Soult's advance came in sight. 
 
 A company of infantry, the head of a column, appeared between 
 the Uxo hills which overlook All^a. They were beyond the range of 
 musketry, and halting there, they ordered arms and stood at ease. 
 Shortly afterwards a staff-ofUcer, wearing a glazed cocked-hat and 
 green uniform, and mounted on a spotless white steed, descended at 
 a trot tovrards the town, and with the most perfect coolness walked 
 his horse slowly before the wall, which was lined by the 50th and 
 Highlanders, riding within fifty yards of their muskets,— a distance 
 at which, had they fired, he must undoubtedly have been slain. 
 
 "Adevihsh cool fellow!" said Seaton. "He jogs easily along. 
 looking every moment as if he expected a shot was coming to spoil 
 his impertinent reconnoitring." 
 
 A murmur and cries of " Tak him doon ! tak him doon ! Gie 
 him his kail through the reek," arose among the Highlanders, who 
 began to look to their flints and priming. 
 
 '' Weel would I like to gie that chield's pride a fa' ! " said Angus 
 ]Mackie, cocking his musket. " The blind hauf hunder' surely ha'na 
 seen him. Dearsake Captain Seaton ! just say the word, — will I 
 fire ? " 
 
 " AVhy,— I know no objection," said Seaton, looking inquiringly 
 towards Cameron, who was standing on foot near an angle of tlie 
 trench, with old Dugald Mhor beside him holding his charger by 
 the bridle. " Colonel, some of my fellows are anxious to fire ; shall 
 I permit them ? I have some deadly shots in the light company. 
 IMonsieur's reconnoissance will end the instant Angus fires upon 
 him." 
 
 " Shame on you, Highlanders ! " exclauned Cameron, his eyes 
 beginning to sparkle as usual Avhen he was excited. " ^Vould you 
 fire on a solitary individual, who cannot return you a shot ? He is 
 a brave soldier although a rash one, and I ^\ill never permit such a 
 deed to be done. Keep steady, men ; you will have firmg enough in 
 a short time." 
 
 The light company were abashed, and the life of tVe Frenchmau 
 
 US 
 
288 THE ROMANCE OF WAS. 
 
 was saved,— a piece of generous clemency which Cameron soon had 
 reason to repent. The staft-officer, continuing at the same deUherate 
 pace, ascended one of the heights, where he was joined by an orderly 
 on loot, who, by his directions, was seen to place eleven stones, equi- 
 distant, around the summit. Descending past the head of the 
 infantry column in the valley, he ascended the other eminence, and 
 there the same movements were performed; after which they dis- 
 appeared to the rear. 
 
 That I'rench officer, who so narrowly escaped death, was Maeshal 
 bouLT,— the great Duke of Dalmatia himself, as one of his own 
 despatches, which a few days afterwards fell into the hands of our 
 troops, sufficiently testified. 
 
 Scarcely had he withdrawn, before twenty -two pieces of artillerj', 
 each drawn bj- four horses, ascended the heights at full gallop, and 
 took their ground at the several marks wliich Marshal Soult had 
 laid. In an instant the gunners leaped from their seats ; the guns 
 were wheeled round, with their yawming muzzles pointed to Alba ; 
 the horses were untraced, the limbers cast off, and with the speed of 
 thought the cannoniers, all stout fellows, wearing high grenadier 
 caps, grey great-coats with large red epaulets, were seen hard at 
 work with sponge and rammer, charging home the cannon. Their 
 active figures were seen more distinctly by the yellow light shed 
 across the sky by the morning sun, the rays of which shone merrily 
 on the glistening Tormes, the broTsii autumnal woods, the moulder- 
 ing walls and desolate streets of Alba, where soon the work of death 
 was to begin. 
 
 '"' "\^'ell, colonel," said Seaton, " what think you of this gay 
 preparation ? We shall have sixteen-pounders and long nines flying 
 like hailstones in a minute more. You Avill scarcely rejoice at 
 allo\\'ing the white steed to carry off its rider with a whole skin." 
 
 Cameron bit his Hps, and his fiery eyes flashed; but he made no 
 reply. 
 
 " Heoh !'■' muttered an old Highlander ; '•' it's a true sayin' at 
 hame — Glum folk are no easy guided. Ta cornel's been makin' a 
 fule q' hersel the day before the morn ; hoomch ! " 
 
 " Keep close under your walls and trenches, lads," cried Campbell, 
 who was watching the heights through a telescope levelled across the 
 saddle of his horse. " Keep close ; but never duck down when a 
 ball comes : as old Sir Ealph used to say, ' it looks d— ned unsoldier- 
 hke.' Here comes a shot." 
 
 A flash, and a 'OTeath of white smoke, announced the first cannon- 
 ball, which, striking the wall of a house, brought a mass of masonry 
 tumbling into the street. Whiz came a second, and a third, and a 
 fourth, — all in quick succession. The French cannonade commenced . 
 then in good earnest, and continued incessantly from ten in the 
 morning until five in the afternoon, — firing thirteen hundred round 
 of shot and shell, and perhaps to so hot a discharge of cannon so small 
 a body of troops, in such a defenceless place, were never subjected 
 before. Without the least intermission it continued for seven hours, 
 and even then the enemy only ceased to cool their guns, and await 
 the completion of a plan formed by Soult for surrounding and com- 
 pletely cutting off the defenders of Alba. It was a miracle that every 
 man in the place was not destroyed ; but the enemy chiefly expended 
 their shot on a large empty convent, which they supposed to be full 
 of soldiers, and in consequence levelled it to the foundations. 
 
THE eomaNCE of wae. 28J^ 
 
 One sixteen-pounder came whizzing amongst the light company, 
 and, striking the breastwork of loose earth, buried Seaton and a 
 section of men under it ; and a hearty laugh arose from the regiment, 
 as they scrambled out of the trench, shaking off the soil and turf 
 which had covered them up. 
 
 Although shot were crashing, shells bursting, and houses falling 
 incessantly for seven consecutive hours, only about fifty Highlanders 
 were killed. The loss of the other corps I have never ascertained, 
 but the streets were everywhere strewed with the dead. Many of 
 the wounds were beyond conception frightful, being all by cannon- 
 shot or bomb-splinters, tearing absolutely to pieces those they struck, 
 and shearing off legs and arms like withered reeds, Macildhui, a 
 Serjeant, was killed as Eonald was delivering some orders to him. 
 His head was carried away like an egg-shell, and his brains were 
 spattered over the pavement. Night was closing, and the enemy's 
 guns were still in position on the heights, from which another iron 
 (lose was expected in the morning, when an aide-de-camp from 
 Salamanca, covered from plume to spur with dust, dashed into the 
 tovro. at full gallop, and informed General Howard that 3,000 Prench 
 cavalry had forded the Tormes some miles above Alba, that his 
 position was turned, and that the Marquis of Wellington desired he 
 would abandon the town without a moment's delay, other\\ise the 
 first brigade were lost men. The order was instantly given to 
 decamp, and the place was quitted double quick, the troops moving 
 through those streets which concealed their movements from Soult, 
 and forming in close columns on the other side of the Tormes to be 
 in readiness for the cavalry, should they make their appearance. 
 To deceive the French marshal, the sentries were kept on the walls 
 imtil the last moment ; and Stuart, with ten light-company men, 
 was sent to " bring them off." 
 
 " Farewell, senor ! " cried Truxillo, waving his sabre to Eonald 
 over the battlements of the ancient Moorish tower, which he had 
 volunteered to defend to the last with his two companies of Castilians, 
 to cover the retreat of Howard's and Hamilton's brigade. 
 
 " Adieu, gallant conde ! " answered Eonald, as he passed beneath 
 the walls with his party. It was the last time he ever beheld him. 
 3y the sound of his silver whistle he collected the Highland sentinels 
 from all points. These, with Major-general Howard, WemysSj the 
 brigade-major, and Eonald himself, were the last men who quitted 
 the ruins of Alba. The mounted officers rode at a trot, and the 
 ;ieavily-laden infantry followed double-quick, with their muskets at 
 the trail. The moment the bridge was cleared, the sappers sprung 
 the mine ; a roar like that of thunder shook the current of the 
 Tormes, and a cloud of dust and stones rose into the air. Eonald, 
 •who was severely bruised by the falhng fragments, cast a glance 
 behind as he hurried along. The bridge was a mass of ruins. The 
 Spanish flag was waving from the round tower of Alba, which w^as 
 now enveloped in smoke, and flashes of musketry broke from it on 
 all sides as the forlorn band of the conde opened a sharp fire from 
 the rampart and loopholes upon a dense and dark column of French 
 infantry, which was seen descending rapidly towards the tov»u, with 
 tri-colours flying, and brass drums beating in that peculiar manner 
 by which the French regulate the quick step. After a desperate 
 resistance, Truxillo and his Castilians were captured ; but the sound 
 of the firing was long neard by the brigade as it retreated in square* 
 
200 TILE HOirA>'CE OF WAR. 
 
 along the road for Ciudad Rodrigo, thus completely frustratinj* 
 Souli's design to enclose and cut them olfby his cavalrj', who appeared 
 in about half an hour, and met with so desperate a resistance that 
 they were compelled to retire with immense loss. 
 
 That night the brigade halted on the skirts of a cork-wood, five 
 leagues distq^nt from Alba de Tormes. The half leafless branches 
 alforded but a poor protection fi'om the rain, which continued to 
 pour without cesiation until daybreak, when the weary march was 
 recommenced. 
 
 It was indeed a night of misery ! Although worn out with fatigue 
 and hunger, it was impossible to sleep on the wet ground, on which 
 the rushing rain wa.s descending in drops larger than peas ; and 
 almo.-t equally impossible to stand, after what had been endured for 
 some days past, — marching from da^^^l till sunset laden with seve'nty- 
 five pounds weight, and fasting for six-and-thirty, or eight-aud-foi*ty 
 consecutive hours. Cursing themselves and their fate, many of the 
 soldiers were so disheartened at the retreat, and the miseries hev 
 had undergone since they left Aranjuez, that they were often heard 
 aloud "wishing to Heaven their brains had been blown out in. 
 Alba ! " 
 
 Eonald, being sent on out-picquet, lost even the slight shelter 
 afforded by the wood ; but the soldiers had lighted prodigious jBires, 
 upon which even the power of the rain was lost; and seated by one, 
 he passed a sleepless night, hstening to the rain-drops sputtering in 
 the flames, and to the hoarse croaking of frogs in a neighbouring 
 marsh. During the night it was discovered that the wood was the 
 lair of "nild pigs, and a regular hunt ensued ; by which means scores 
 were shot during the glimpses of moonhght. As fast as they were 
 killed they were quarterecC and served out to the men, who crowded 
 round the fires, broiUng them on their bayonets and long steel ram- 
 rods. Major Campbell, who was a keen sportsman, and had been 
 accustomed to shoot by moonhght at home, exerted himself so well, 
 that with his own hand he shot five, and brought them to the 
 bivouac, where he threw them among the soldiers. The out- 
 picquets had been puzzled to comprehend the meaning of the firing 
 Avithin the wood, and Konald v.as agreeably surprised by his servant 
 bringing him a slice of wild pork, famously fried in a camp-kettle lid, 
 and with it a here»gena (a fruit of the cucumber genus) which he 
 had found in the wood and reserved for his master, although almost; 
 perishhig for want of nourishment himself. But the instances of 
 Evan's fidehty are innumerable. 
 
 The contents of the camp-ketlle were shared between master and 
 man, ^nthout ceremony, and without the absence of salt or other 
 seasoning being perceived. 
 
 For this alfair of pig-shooting in the cork-wood, the commander- 
 in-chief took the opportunity to tell the army, in a general order, 
 that they had degenerated into " a lawless banditti,*' and that, without 
 having suiiered the least privation, they were in a state of mutiny 
 and disorder. This taunting and bitter addi-ess is still remembered 
 "with peculiar annoyance by the few survivors of that brave army. 
 
 E :t, to return to the unhappy and unlooked-for retreat from_ 
 E urges, privations the troops did sutler (and I say so in defiance of 
 that general order), and privations such as soldiers never endured 
 before or since. Continuing their rapid retreat across the frontier, 
 on the evenhig of the 19th of November, the first brigade entered tha 
 
THE EOMAITCE OF Wa2. 201 
 
 miserable vilUgooi llobledo, in Leon ; and as the soldiers halted and 
 formed line in the street, pale, exhausted, vvoywoni, fami.shed, and 
 absolutely in rags, — shirtless, shoeless, and penniless, they seemed 
 more like an assemblage of gaunt spectres than British men. 
 EonakUs shirt had not been changed for ten days, nor had his beard 
 been shaven for the same period. His shoes were completely worn 
 away, and his bare feet had been cut and wounded by the flinty 
 ground, while his uniform hung in fritters about him. Every oflicer 
 was in the same predicament. 
 
 The military chest was empty— the stores exhausted. The cavalry 
 and artillery horses perished in scores for want of forage ; and 
 during the whole retreat from Albrv de Tormes to llobledo, the 
 soldiers had fared on scanty rations of tough beef, horse-beans, acorns 
 and castanos picked up by the way-side ; or now and then, when the 
 commissary could procure it, a few handfids of wheat served out to 
 each officer and private — unground. On reaching their v/inter- 
 quarters, thousands of soldiers died of sheer exhaustion, or were 
 invalided and sent home, to become biu'dens to their friends, parishes, 
 or themselves, for the remainder of their lives. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVTI. 
 
 AXGU3 MACKIS. 
 
 In the beginning of the next month the Highlanders were marched 
 across the Sierra de Gate to the ancient city of Coria, in Estrema- 
 dura, where they were to remain until they had recovered from their 
 late, fatigues^ and received recruits, clotliing, supplies, and arrears of 
 pay from Lisbon. ^Vhile on the march acro;^;3 the sierra, Evan's 
 comrade, Angus Mackie, a soldier of vrhom I have mo-do frequent 
 mention, deserted from the light company, and, singularly enough, 
 was discovered to have gone otf in the direction of the enemy, — a 
 circumstance which exasperated the whole regiment against hin:.. 
 But the true reason of poor Mackie's disappearance soon afterwards 
 came to light. 
 
 On the second day after their arrival at Coria, the maii-bag.s were 
 brought from the rear, and Eonald, who was on guard with twenty 
 Ilighlanders at one of the four gates of the city, w^as much annoyed 
 at being unable to inquire if any letters had come for him, and he 
 passed the whole day in a disagreeable state of expectation and 
 excitement. In the evening the guards were relieved, and he hurried 
 to Ills billet, which was situated in one of the narrow and gloomy 
 streets leading from the market-place towards the cathedral. At the 
 door he was met by Evan, who informed him that "twa letters frae 
 hame v/ere awaiting him in his room. Major Campbell had lefl; 
 them there some time before." 
 
 "Eoohsh ! ^Why did you not bring them to the guard-house ? " 
 
 " But alake, sir ! there Lsna ane for me," said Evan, without 
 minding the question. "Myfaither nncht hae sent me ae screed, 
 and I houp that naetliing waur than the broon coo — (as he sy ca'd 
 the yill), or a wee drap ower muckfe o' the barley bree, have kcepi 
 him fraed." 
 
 " A light, Evan ! a hght ! thii- plof-e is very dark," cried Ronald Ui 
 
292 THE llOMAXCi: OF -IVAB. 
 
 his retainer, who had foUoAved him up stairs to hear what news the 
 letter contained. 
 
 " Twa candles, sir," said he, as he lighted them. " Twa, nae less. 
 By the alcalde's order, the auld patron body has to furnish ye wi' 
 twa,— which males ye ' as braw as the Laird o' Grant.' \ e mind the 
 aula saying, I daur say ? " 
 
 Konald snatched the letters, and beheld with joy and delight thai 
 one was from Alice, — the otlicr from his father. 
 
 " Poor Louis ! " muttered he aloud ; " how much I wish that he 
 was here!" lionald was absolutely trembling Avith joy as he 
 opened the letter and prepared to read it. 
 
 He drew his chair close to the table, and raised the snuffers to 
 trim the candles : when, lo ! the hghts were both blown out, and the 
 snuffers flew from his hand Avith a loud report. 
 
 " Gude guide us ! " exclaimed Evan, astonished at being so sud- 
 denly involved in darkness ; but a hearty malediction escaped Konald, 
 who was chafed and infuriated ■with the delay this unexpected 
 circumstance caused. 
 
 " Light them again," cried he. " Did you say that Major Campbell 
 had been waiting for me in this room ? " 
 
 " Ay, sir, a gay gude while." 
 
 " Pshaw ! this is some trick of his : he has put a pinch of powder 
 in the snuffers. His practical joke has been somewhat mis-timed. 
 Get me fresh lights." Although Ronald laughed heartily at this 
 occurrence afterwards, he was greatly enraged by it at the time, and 
 an age seemed to elapse before Evan brought him the candles again. 
 Love-letters are interesting to those only for whom they are de- 
 signed, and it is not my intention to give Miss Lisle's letter at 
 length ; but the reader, if concerned about the matter, may be 
 assured that its contents were in every way just what Eonald could 
 have wished them, — save in one part. She expressed her joy to hear 
 that Louis was a prisoner, saying that he was " safer in France than 
 fighting in Spain," and that she almost wished that Eonald himself 
 might be captured likewise, to keep him out of harm's way. 
 
 " Evan, Jessie Cavers begs again to be remembered to you," said 
 Eonald to his expectant follower, as he closed the letter. 
 
 " Does she really noo ? The dear lassie ! " cried he, snapping his 
 fingers, while his eyes glistened \Aith delight ; and he commenced a 
 sort of strathspey round the table. " My ain bonnie bhthesome 
 Jessie ! Mony a gloaming I have spent wi' her among the sauch- 
 tree woods o' Inchavon, and the haughs o' the Isla. Deil tak the 
 wars and campaigning ! How blithely would I gie this unco land 
 o' teuch beef and rotten nuts, hard fechtin and wearysome marching, 
 for auld Scotland, sae brave and sae bonnie, wi' its green grassy glens 
 and high heather hills, its lochs and its woods ! Ochone ! Oh, 
 Maister Eonald ! gin we once mair saw Benmore, and fand the 
 smell o' oor ain peat reek, I dinna think, we would be in a hurry to 
 leave hame again. And then Miss Lisle o' the big ha' house would 
 be your ain, and my bonnie doo Jessie mine ! I have written to 
 her three times, and deil a scrap o' a letter has she sent me. She 
 viTites weil aneugh, thanks to the auld aommie at the schuie o' 
 Latheronweel. But what does the laird say ? Are a' weil at oor ain 
 ingle-neuck?" 
 
 " All, Heaven be thanked ! " rephed Eonald, glancing rapidly over 
 the pages of his father's letter : "but leave me just now, Evan, and 
 
THE iiOMANCE 01 WAB. 293 
 
 see who tliat is knocking in the piazzas below. I will detail the news 
 from the glen afterwards." 
 
 His father's letter, although it contained many expressions of 
 pride, praise, and exultation for Eonald's conduct at Almarez, Avas 
 written much in the same style as his others usually were : 
 everything Avas looking gloomy at home ; the flocks and hirsels were 
 perishing on the mountains, and the tenants in the glen had failed 
 in their rents. " But they are our people," continued the old 
 gentleman, " and I cannot drive them forth from the sheilings where 
 they were born, and from the glen where the purple heather blooms 
 so bonuily above the graves of their fathers. I cannot savagely 
 expatriate, as other proprietors are doing daily, the descendants ot 
 those true and loyal vassals, who stood by our ancestors in dangei 
 and death during many a soul-stirring time in the years that are 
 gone. No ! I have more honour, compassion, and generosity 
 Poverty is their misfortune, not their crime. Heaven knows how 
 little a space of time remains for me to be over them, as all my 
 affairs are inextricably involved, and in a few months that letter of 
 cautionary, granted in an evil hour to protect that rascal Macquirk, 
 becomes due. God alone knows where I can raise the money. 
 £8,000 will scarcely pay it, and I believe I will have to lay it down 
 every stiver, as Macquirk has retreated to the sanctuary at Holyrood- 
 house for protection from his creditors. Last mouth I was down in 
 Edinbu/gh, endeavouring to procure the needful on a bond, — but in 
 vain. Lochisla is too deeply involved already. Curse on the hour 
 in which an honourable Highland gentleman of birth and family 
 has to sue at and succomb to a narrow-hearted and blood-sucking 
 attorney ! a wretch that will make a beggar of any man who is simple 
 enough to trust him, or become entangled in the meshes of the pro- 
 fession, which, like a true old Highlander, I regard with proper 
 hatred and contempt. D — n them all ; I say, heartily ; and all tax- 
 gatherers, messengers-at-arms, and excisemen likewise ! Some of 
 the last kind of intruders carried off Alpin Gig's still from Coir nan 
 Taischairin, and a great noise was made in Perth about it. Three 
 came up the glen with a warrant for his apprehension ; but I hid 
 him in the old dungeon under the hall^ where I would advise them 
 not to try and look for him, if they wish to keep their bones whole. 
 It was a great insult to seize the still ; but I am powerless now, and 
 can only think with a sigh of the time when my father hung two of 
 them on the dale tree at the tower gate, — and no man dared to say, 
 "What dost thou ? It was the day before he marched for Glenfinnan, 
 and the unfortunate gaugers were left to feed the eagles and corbies 
 of Benmore. Scotland was Scotland then ! Dirk and claymore ! 
 was the cry when a Highland gentleman was insulted. I saw, by 
 the papers, that young Inchavon has been taken prisoner. Well, I 
 dare say you will not miss him much. His sister's arts have com- 
 pletely failed to entrap the Earl of Hyndford. He took his de- 
 parture suddenly for Edinburgh last month, leaving Miss Alice to 
 fly her hawks at lesser game." 
 
 Eonald had scarcely finished the perusal of this disheartening 
 letter, when Evan entered hastily. '"' Oh, sir," said he, " I have an 
 unco'' tale to tell ye aboot my comrade Angus, — puir chield." 
 
 •■' How ! has he been robbed by picaros, — slain by gtierillas, or 
 ^hat?" 
 
 " O, waur than a' that." 
 
2'.) I 'rnE EOillNCE OF WAR. 
 
 " ITo deserted m the direction of the enemy; I was sorry to liea. 
 of it. lie \v:i3 always a favourite of mine and of Seaton's. ' Did h^ 
 roach the I'^rcnch hnes ?" 
 
 " l']h, no, sir. Captain Blacier's riflemen fell in wi' hbn araang 
 the hills, and there has been an unco' tukie. But weel do I ken for 
 what puir Angus deserted. It wasna the French he ^vas awa to 
 ioin ; he was ofl'for Ahnendralejo, sir." 
 
 " i\.lracndralejo ! Stay : I remember a story now. Surely it was 
 not his attachment to some girl there which led him to commit so 
 rash an act ? " 
 
 " Just naething else. O Maister Ronald, ye ken weel what an 
 unco' thing love is." 
 
 " I have seen the gu:], — Maria Garcionados." 
 
 " Ay, sir,— a bonuie lassie, wi' een like slaes, cliecLi redder than 
 rowans, and skin like the drifted snaw ; but she has been a doom^ 
 unlucky jo for Angus. I'll tell ye the haill story. Ye maun ken, 
 sir, that mony months gane past, when we were quartered in 
 Ahnendralejo, Angus fell over the lugs in love Avi' this braw gilpie, 
 whan we were billeted in her ain house. Ye heard frae Mr. 
 jMacdonald o' the tooslo we had wi' her cuisins, and unco' auld Turk 
 o' a faither. Hech ! it was a teugh job, ^vi' sharp skenes and 
 bayonets, and a' that. AYeel, sir; syne the dny Angus first tint sicht 
 o' that lassie, lie has never been the same rattling, roaring kind o' 
 chield ho was; but ay wae and dowie, soughing and sighing till it 
 v.-as gruesome to hear him. Y'esterday, or the day before it, when 
 coming ower the hills, — ye mind the bit claclian we stoppit at for a 
 night's rest ?" 
 
 " Los Cazas de Don Gomez ? " 
 
 " Ay, sir, just sae, — a deevil o' a lang nebbit name ! At a wine- 
 house there Angus and I forgathered wi' a muleteer loon frae 
 Ahnendralejo, — Lazaro Gomez, he ca'd himsel. Ye'U may be mind 
 o'him?" 
 
 " Perfectly ; but be quick witli your story." 
 
 " Aweel, sir, the mule-iiriver gied us a' the news and clashin frae 
 aboot Merida and ither places, and amang ither things tauld Angus 
 that auld Saucho Garcionados, — or el Ficaro, as the Spaniards ay ca' 
 a lawyer, vras gaun to compel the lassie, whether she wad or no, to 
 marry a rich alcalde. Od, sir ; I never saw a face change as puir 
 Mackie's did, while the carrier callant chatted awa wi' us in broken 
 English, never kennin' the while that ilka word was fa'in like 
 scaudin' lead into the heart o' puir Angus. He came to me that 
 nicht at tatto beat, and said he could thole this life no anither 
 minute, and that — come weal, come wae, he would gang ofi 
 for Almendralejo, and save the lassie or dec wi' her. I did a' I 
 could to pacify him, but he minded me nae mair than the wind 
 vvhistlin' ower tlie muir. Re came to me when I was on sentry at 
 the toon end. His een were glistening, his face was white, like that 
 o' something no cannie, and his gartered knees were chaffing 
 thcgither. i gre'>v eerie to look at him, for the nicht was dark and 
 gloomy, and the wind came soughiiig doou frae the hills wi' a sound 
 like the moan o' a deid man. Ae stamie was glintin on the hill-tap, 
 and I saw the reflection o'd in the rinnin water, which passes the 
 toon wa's. Angus stretched his hands towards the bit staruie, and 
 Eaid it was shinin' ower Almendralejo then, — and may be liia aia 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAS. 295 
 
 true love was lookin' at it ; and tliat it hung like a lamp in tlio 
 riiirky, left to guide him to whar she bided. 
 
 " ' iloots, liavers !' said I, ' ye'll sune get owor 't ; and rany be that 
 gomeral mule-driver's story o' auld Sancho's dochter was u' a lee, — 
 every word o't. Ganghame to your bed, my man, and ye'U be better 
 tlie inorn/ 
 
 '■' But he just gied an unco' sough, and wrung my loof, gaed doon 
 the brae, and left uie. Next morning Serjeant Macronc reported 
 him absent frae parade, and then I keut that he h-wl taen to tlie hills 
 and was a\va'. Tiie black cen o' that Spanish lass hae cuisten » 
 glamourie ower him waur than witchcraft. Amang tlie hills be fell, 
 in wi' Captain Elacier's company o'the 00th, some o' wha ^pieredthe 
 gate he was gaun. Angus couldna or wadna tell, and a fray o' somt 
 kind ensued atween him and the German loons : in tlie middle o't, 
 Angus drew his bayonet on auld Blacier, for which he now lies in 
 ane o' the square toors o' Coria." 
 
 " the fool ! Attempted to stab Blaeier, did he ? " 
 
 " Ay, an vera nigh stickit him i' the wame. Puir Argus ! he ay 
 hated thae thrawn gebbit Hanoverian dogs, as he ca'd them ; for his 
 faither, lil^e yer ain, had been out in the forty-iive, — wi' the Prince 
 sae bauld and braw/"' 
 
 " The unfortunate madman ! he mil surely die. It is death, by 
 the articles of war, to draw weapon upon an officer." 
 
 " So Serjeant Macrone says ; but alake ! Maister Ronald, I houp 
 it will no come to that. Blacier is only a German, ye ken," said 
 Evan, while Ms eyes began to glisten. " Surely the cornel, Captain 
 Seaton, or may be yoursel, will get him ower it. Angus and me hae 
 ever been cronies and brithers syne the first day we met at La N ava, 
 and I would be unco' laith to lose him noo. Ye ken lioo dowie ye 
 were yoursel for mony a lang day after brave ilaister Louis fell into 
 the claws o' thae taid-eating loons, and no a' Maister-Macdonald's 
 jokes or merriment could rouse ye." 
 
 "Prepare youi'self for the worst, Evan. Your poor friend will 
 certainly die, if this crime is proved against^him." * * * * 
 
 Stuart was one of the members of the gendtal court-martial ordered 
 to try this case, in which desertion was coupled with a flagrant act of 
 insubordination. The court met in the palace of the bishop, as there 
 was not another house in Coria containing an apartment fit for the 
 purpose, — the touii being very inconsiderable, having only about: 
 fifteen hundi-ed inhabitants, although strongly defended by walls, 
 towers, gates, and a very singular fortress, the ascent to which is by 
 a flight of upw'ards of a hundred steps. Erom this stronghold 
 Mackie Avas brought before tlie court which was to decide his doom. 
 
 The room in which it met was gloomy and old, and the cUm ligho 
 from four raulhoned windows fell uncertainly on the war-worn 
 uniforms and well-i3ronzed faces of the ofllcers seated around the 
 table, on wdiich lay paper, pens and ink, a bible, and the articles of 
 war. The president, the Hon. Colonel Cadogan, of the Highland 
 Light Infantry, sat at the head; the judge-advocate, an oiiicer or 
 cavalry, stood at the foot of the table to read the charges,— the 
 members taking then* places according to their rank ; the seniors ou 
 Cadogan's right, the juniors on his left. After the court had been 
 Eworr, by the president holding forth the bible, and every oiiicer 
 laying bis hand upon it and sweoiing " duly to administer justica 
 
29G THE EOMAXCE OF WAK. 
 
 according to the ruies and articles now in force for the better govern- 
 ment of his Majesty's forces, without partiaUty, favour, or affection,'* 
 the proceedings commenced. Pale, dejected, and apparently cast down 
 To the lowest depths of mental misery, the unfortunate young High- 
 lander stood before the military tribunal. His red coat, threadbare 
 and patched with divers colours, his frittered tartans, and a deep 
 scar on one of his sun-burnt knees, another on his check, gained at 
 Corunna, — all bore witness for him of the service he had seen, but 
 which was little cared for there, as all had served alike. Tall and 
 erect he stood before them, glancing from one to another in a firm 
 but respectful manner. One by one the evidences against him were 
 examined, and he found no fault with what any man said of him. 
 Seaton and Serjeant Duncan Macrone stated the time when his 
 absence was first discovered, and the former spoke highly ot 
 his general character and conduct, and acquainted the court that 
 his life had been twice saved by the prisoner, — first at the battle of 
 Puentes de Honore. in May, 1811 ; and again at Arroya del Mohno 
 in the November oi the same year, when he was encountered by two 
 aides-de-camp of the Prince d'Aremberg during the action. Honest 
 old Blacier, although the most aggrieved party, was unvrilhng to be the 
 means of depriving the Highlander of existence, and taking his pipe 
 from his mouth, gave his evidence with marked backwardness ; he 
 concluded by saying, " Dat he believed de TiencJcers knecht vas under 
 de influence ob de pig-skins, or der tev.fel, or zauherei, vich means de 
 vitshcraft, and I vould not hab it on my conscience dat I occasioned 
 a young man's being shot and sent to der teiifel for showing a bare 
 blade ven his bloodt vas up ; and I hope de coort vill recommendt 
 him to de tender mercy ob Lord Yelhngton, so dat he may be 
 shaved." 
 
 " Your Avishes, with those of Captain Seaton, shall have due con- 
 sideration with the court. Captain Blacier," replied the president ; 
 and the rifleman withdrew, pufling vehemently with his long pipe. 
 When called upon to make his defence, the prisoner had little to 
 say. He knew that any attempts to extenuate his double crime 
 would be perfectly unavailing, and his knowledge of the rules of the 
 service led him to anticipate his doom. Yet his keen grey eye never 
 quailed or grew less bright, and his voice never faltered while he 
 addressed the court in the follomng manner : — 
 
 " Weel do I ken, sirs, that I have been acting v/rang, — unco 
 wrang. I hae been guilty, in sae far that I abandoned my quarters, 
 and was awa amang the hills ; but I deny solemnly, and may I be 
 haulden mansworn, if ever I ettled to desert, or gae ower to the 
 enemy's colours. I was clean wud, and kenned na' at the time whar 
 I was danderin' to. I tell your honours the truth, and I would 
 scorn to affirm it wi' an aith, because I never tauld a lee in a' my 
 days, and hae nae need to fib or flaw noo. But, sirs, I think there 
 isna ane in this room that wadna hae dune as I did that nicht, whsn 
 I kent that I was on the brink o' losing for ever and ay the winsoiae 
 lass to whom I had plighted heart and troth ; and I will affirm, 
 gentlemen, that neither the danger or disgrace o' haeing it imputed 
 to me that I abandoned my standard, could keep me frae trying to 
 save her frae sic a tyrannical and avaricious auld carle as her faither. 
 It has been said, in the 'crime,' that I was gaun the^gate to th& 
 enemy's lines. Ablins I was, and ablins I wasna, for l was wading 
 through a sea o' desperation, — I was dumbfounded and gane gyte 
 
THE EOAIANCE OF WAR. 297 
 
 that mchtj and it was a' after I had bent the biker a gay gude while, 
 as my comrade Evan Iverach has tauld unto ye. 
 
 '■'• O sirs ! I hope that ye vaW neither flog nor degrade me ; but let 
 me dee the death my crime is said to merit. Let me dee noo, — noo 
 that I hae broucht sorrow and wae, sorrow and disgrace to my honest 
 faither's fireside ; for though he is but a puir auld cottar body at 
 Braemar, it will bring his bald head to the grave if he hears I hae 
 come to the halberts, — it would be sic an awfu' disgrace ! the liaill 
 kintra-side wad ring wi't. Let me rather die, sirs : I say again, — a 
 hundred times I hae faced death, and I can easily face him ance 
 mair. But it is whan I think o' my faither and mother at hame 
 amang the heather hills, — struggling wi' eild and wi' poortith, — the 
 ane herdin' sheep in bonnie Glenclunaidh amang the lang yellow 
 broom, and the other spinnin' hard at the ingle-neuk, wliar I hae 
 sae aften toddled at her knee, — 'tis whan I think o' them that I am 
 ready to orp and greet, and that my stout heart fails me,— a heart, 
 sirs, that never failed on mony a bluidy day. I hae nae mair to say, 
 your honours, but just that 1 humbly thank ye for hearing me sae 
 lang, and that I wad as sune dee as live." 
 
 This address, which was delivered with considerable vehemence 
 and gesture, and spoken in a very northern and provincial dialect, 
 was very little understood by those members of the court who were 
 not Scotsmen ; and Eonald Stuart, whose heart yearned with a truly 
 Scottish love towards his countryman, explained to them the sub- 
 stance of what Mackie had said. He was found guilty of the seventh 
 and eleventh articles in the second section of the articles of war, 
 viz., desertion, — aggravated by an intention to join the enemy, and 
 drawing, or offering to draw, upon " a superior officer." He was sent 
 back to the fortress of Coria, and the proceedings and sentence of 
 the court were despatched to head-quarters, ^ith strong recommenda- 
 tions to mercy from Colonel Cadogan, and from Fassifern ; but 
 many months elapsed before an answer was returned, and during all 
 that time the poor Highlander pined in the noisome vaults of the 
 castle or fort of Coria. But of him, more anon. 
 
 In consequence of the approach of the French under General Foy, 
 the first brigade moved from Coria while the sentence of the unfor- 
 tunate Mackie remained unkno^vn, — every member of a court-mar- 
 tial being sworn to solemn secrecy. The 50th regiment occupied 
 Bejar, so famous for its mineral wells, and some sharp fighting 
 ensued in its neighbourhood; but Foy's troops were completely 
 routed with great loss. The Highlanders occupied the beautiful 
 village of Bancs, which lies secluded in a deep and narrow valley 
 betw;een Leon and Estremadura, surrounded on every side by abrupt 
 precipitous mountains, which are covered to their rugged summits 
 l3y the richest fohage ; but amid their caverns, fastnesses, and dingles 
 lurk herds of wolves, the wildness and ferocity of which keep the 
 inhabitants in a continual state of terror and alarm ; and so daring 
 had these savage animals become, that it was necessary to keep large 
 fires burning at night around the \iUage, to scare them from the posts 
 of the sentinels. 
 
 Sooii after the regiment arrived at Bancs, the sentence of Angus 
 Mackie was ordered to be put in execution, having been approved of 
 by the proper authorities. On the retreat from Burgos some 
 symptoms of insubordination had appeared among the other bri- 
 gades, when the soldiers became maddened by the miseries they 
 
208 THE nOMANCE OF TVAE. 
 
 UTidenvcnt: an offiocr of "the hufTs" had been shot by a soldier of 
 t hat regiment. In other corj»s disoiphne seemed almost set at nought, 
 and it was determined thai an exara])le should be made. The private 
 of the 3rd regiment -was hangedj and Angus Mackie, atIio, although 
 far less criminal, had been convicted of clesertion and insubordina- 
 tion, was sentenced to be sh jt to death in presence of his comrades, 
 "who among themselves deri)iy pitied and deplored that so gallant a 
 lad should suffer so severe a sentence for his exaggerated crime. Ko 
 charge of injustice could be laid to the account of the court which 
 tried him, the " linding" of its members having been regulated by 
 the stern but necessary articles of the Mutiny Act. Many months 
 had passed av>-ay since his trial ; the first excitement of the affair 
 had died away, and during all that time he had been confined in the 
 dreary fort of Coria, — a sufficient punishment alone for the crime he 
 had committed. 
 
 This unhappy affair cast a gloom over the wliole regiment^ — a 
 gloom which was apparent in every face, as the unwilling High- 
 landers paraded in the valley of Banos to witness his executit)n. 
 
 It ^yas in the month of May, 1813 ; the evening was a still and 
 beautiful one. The sun was verging towards the west, and his 
 crimson rays streamed through the deep dark dell, upon the vine- 
 clad cottages and sylvan amphitheatre of Banos, Concentrated in 
 that narrow and gloomy glen, where the immense mountains rose 
 on every side to the height of many hundred feet, and where crags 
 and rocks shot up in cones and fantastic spires, almost excluding 
 the hght of day from the little huts at the bottom of the dell, 
 were the seventeen infantry regiments of the second division, toge- 
 ther with the cavalry^ drawn up on the steep faces of the hills, so 
 that the rear ranks might overlook the front. The jmisanos of the 
 secluded village, awe-struck at the unusual scene, and the sight of 
 so many thousand steel weapons glittering amid such dense masses 
 of foreign soldiers, forsook their cottages and clustered together on 
 the summit of a steep rock, to behold the fatal event. The troops 
 formed three faces of a hollow square ; the rock upon which the 
 peasants were congregated occupied the vacant space. A spot of 
 velvet turf, the \ill!igc green, stretched to the foot of it, and there 
 was dug a grave, — a gi-ave for the yet living man ; the wet damp 
 earth heaped up on one side of it, the rolls of turf and a rough deal 
 coffin lay on the other. Near these stood the bass-drum of the 
 Gordon Highlanders ; a bible and a prayer-book lay open upon its 
 head. 
 
 The Highlanders formed the inner faces of the square. 
 
 All was solemn silence and expectation ; not a whisper was heard 
 through all that dense array ; not a sound smote the ear save the 
 rustle of the summer foliage, as the evening vrirA stirred the tall 
 chesnuts or rich green cork-trees which nodded from the black 
 precipices. The general, the staff and field-officers were all on 
 horseback, but remained motionless. At last it was known that the 
 <loonied man was ap])roacliiiig, and the arms of the escort that con- 
 <lucted hi)n were seen flasliing in the sunlight, as they descended 
 from the hill-lops by the winding pathway which led to the bottom 
 <»f the valley. k.'ir Ilowland Hill touched his hat to an aide-de-camp, 
 who then passed among the troops at a hand gallop, whispering to 
 each commanding officer; the v/ords of command to fix bayonets and 
 shoulder arms were imnied ately given, and before the varying tones 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAS. 209 
 
 of the different colonels died awny, the prisoner appeared amid the 
 square surrounded by his escort, under charge of the provost-mar- 
 slial. His own corps,' I have said, was in front, and he moved slowly 
 along the silent ranks with downcast eyes towards the spot where his 
 {o-ave and cofhn lay displayed. He drew near the former, and cast a 
 glance into its gloomy depth, and, shuddering, turned his back upon 
 it, muttering : " 1 vrould just be sax-and-twenty the morn._ 8ax-and- 
 twenty ! oh, it's an unco thing to dee sae young. my faither — my 
 mither !" lie groaned aloud ; farewell to you — to auld Scotland, and 
 a' I hae loed sae lang and weel ! It will be a sair trial to my kins- 
 folk in Glencluuaidh, vviien they see my name on the kirk doors o' 
 iiraemar — as ane that has dee'd wi' disgrace on his broo."* 
 
 He was clad in his white undress-jacket and kilt, and stood bare- 
 headed, Avith his bonnet in his hand. He was pale and emaciated 
 with long confinement, but his bearing was firm and as soldier-like 
 as ever. His eyes seemed unusually bright, and at times a red flush 
 crossed his otherwise deadly pale check. There were two aged monks 
 from the San Ferdinando convent of Candeleria present, but the 
 Highlander refused to hear or communicate with them. Yet the 
 honest friars were determined not to abandon him in his last hour, 
 and withdrawing to a little distance, they placed a crucifix against a 
 fragment of rock, and prayed earnestly, v/itli true Catholic fervour, 
 to that all-vdse Power above, before -which the soul of one they 
 deemed a heretic was so soon to appear. 
 
 There was no chaplain present vvitli the troops ; but the prisoner 
 was attended by the venerable Dugald-Mhor, who walked slowly 
 beside him bareheaded, ■with his bonnet under his arm. He read 
 portions of the Scripture from an old dog-eared bible, which he pro- 
 duced from his sjwrran raollocJi : and the low solemn tones in whick 
 lie read could be distinctly heard by all, so very still was the place ; 
 and as the hand of the village-clock approached the hour at which 
 the soldier was to die, a deeper sadness fell upon the hearts of the 
 beholders, who, although long accustomed to all the heart-harrowing 
 scenes of Avar, had never before witnessed a death in so solemn and 
 pecuhar a manner. 
 
 Mackie and his attendant sung together the hj-mn — 
 " The hour of my departiire's come," &c. 
 
 and when it was concluded, the hand of the clock on the alcalde's 
 house wanted but five minutes of the hour. The soldier cast a hasty 
 glance towards it, and, falling upon his knees, covered his face with 
 his hands and burst out into an agony of prayer, from which he was 
 only aroused by the seven strokes of the last hour he would ever hear 
 on earth sitriking from the dull-toned bell. 
 
 His last moment was come. 
 
 AVlien the sound ceased, Cameron of Fassifern and his field-oflQcers 
 dismounted from their horses, which were led away, and the provost- 
 marshal drew up a section of twelve soldiers opposite where the 
 jjrisoner yet knelt on the turf. 
 
 !Many of his comrades now took their last farewell of him ; and 
 Evan Iverach, to whom he had given seven pounds, saved from his 
 
 * By the military regixlatious, the names of soldiers who behave meritoriously, 
 or misbeliave themselves grossly, are affixed to the church-doors of the parish 
 in whicli titey were bom. In Highlaiid regiments tlie tiureat of informing 
 friends at home of a soldier's misconduct was sufficient to k'jrp him in order 
 *or the time to come. 
 
3U0 THE EOMANCE OF "W'AE. 
 
 pay while prisoner at Coria, to send to his parents at Braemar, 
 roiired to his place in the ranks with tearless eyes, — because Evan 
 liad a mistaken idea, that to have sho^vn signs of deep emotion would 
 h;ive been unmanly. But that night, in his billet, honest Evan wept 
 like a woman for the loss of his comrade and friend. During the 
 bandaging of Mackie's eyes, Fassifern took off his bonnet, and kneel- 
 ing down, commanded his regiment to do so likewise. As one man, 
 the Highlanders bent their bare knees to the sod, joining, as they 
 did so, in the solemn psalm which Dugald and the prisoner hai 
 begun to sing. It was a sad and mournful Scottish air, one which, 
 every Scotsman present had been accustomed to hear sung in their 
 village kirks or fathers' cottages in boyhood. It softened and sub- 
 dued their hearts, carrying back their recollections to their childhood, 
 and to years that had passed away into eternity. jNIany heard it 
 chanted then for the first time since their native hills had faded 
 from their sight : and as the strain died away through the deep and 
 narrow vale of Banos, it found an echo in every breast. 
 
 Dugald closed his bible, and, placing a handkerchief in the hand 
 of the prisoner, withdrew, and covering his wrinkled face "\'.ith his 
 bonnet, knelt down also. Now came the duty of the provost-mar- 
 shal, whose unmlling detachment consisted of twelve picked men, 
 of disorderly character, on whom, as a punishment, fell the lot of 
 slaj-ing their comrade. 
 
 With his eyes blindfolded, the unfortunate Highlander knelt down 
 between his coffin and his grave, and without quivering once, dropped 
 his handkerchief. 
 
 "Section!" cried the provost -marshal, "'ready — present— j?re .' " 
 The W'ords followed each other in rapid succession, and the echoes of 
 the death-shot were reverberated like thunder among the hills 
 around. A shriek burst from the females of the village. Eed blood 
 was seen to spout forth from many a wound in the form of the pri- 
 soner ; he sprung convulsively upwards, and then fell backward dead 
 on the damp gravel, which was so soon to cover him. 
 
 The hearts of all began to beat more freely ; but at that moment 
 the red sun sank behind the darkening hills, and a deeper gloom 
 enveloped Banos, the effect of which was not lost on the minds of 
 the beholders. 
 
 All was over now ! The corse lay stretched on the ground, and 
 the smoke of the myisketry was curling around the grave which 
 yaAvned beside it. Cameron sprung on his horse, and his voice was 
 the first to break the oppressive silence. The shrill pipes sounded, 
 and the rattling drums beat merrily in the re-echoing vale, as corps 
 after corps marched past the spot w^here the body of Mackie, though 
 breathless, lay yet bleeding, and moved up the winding pathway 
 towards the pass of Banos, whence by different routes they marched 
 to their cantonments in the villages and camps among the mountains. 
 AVlien all had passed away, the pioneers placed the dead man in his 
 coffin, and covered him hurriedly up ; the sods were carefully depo- 
 sited over and beaten down with the shovel ; and the grave of the 
 man who had been living but ten minutes before, presented now the 
 same appearance as the resting-place of one who had been many 
 years entombed. The weeds and the long grass waved over it. 
 
 The village paisanos placed a rough w^ooden cross above it, to 
 prevent, as they said, " the heretic from haunting the resting-place 
 of his bones ;" and near this rude emblem was placed a vine, whicb 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 301 
 
 Evan Iverach tended daily, — clearing its root of weeds and encum- 
 brances, watching and pruning the stem, and long before the regi- 
 ment left Bancs he had twined it around and hidden tho limbs of 
 the cross ; and when the Highlanders marched from the valley, as 
 they wound through a deep defile among the mountains, Evan's 
 farewell look was cast to the place where ths ^'ine-covered cross 
 marked the grave of his comrade. 
 
 CHAP TEE XXXVIII. 
 
 AN ADVENTUEE. 
 
 Befoee the regiment left Bancs to take the field again, Ronald 
 had an unlooked-for adventure with a fierce denizen of the neigh- 
 bouring mountains, which nearly cost him his life. 
 
 Tiiere was a certain part of the hills, from which the valley of 
 Bancs strongly resembled his native place, Strathonan, but on a 
 much smaller scale ; and thither Stuart was in the habit of repairing 
 almost daily, to indulge freely in those long reveries so usual to a 
 Highlander, and enjoy the beauty of the prospect which bore so near 
 a resemblance to his home. A slight effort of the imagination made 
 it at once Strathonan, near the source of that celebrated trout-stream, 
 the Isla ; but the sound of the guitar and castanets came on the 
 wind instead of the war-pipe of Albyn, and destroyed the illusion. 
 There were neither bucks nor roes bounding over the mountain- 
 slope ; and instead of the plaided shepherd or agile huntsman 
 starting from the copsewood, a lazy yet handsome Spanish peasant 
 appeared at tunes, sauntering slowly along, clad in his short brovra 
 jacket tied round the waist by a broad yellow scarf, leather gaiters 
 bound with red thongs, a cigar in his mouth, a staff in his hand, and 
 a stiletto in his girdle. Often did a figure wearing this romantic 
 dress, or enveloped in a huge brown mantle, appear on the sohtary 
 pathways on the hills. Far down below, on the village green, instead 
 of the lively strathspey or martial gillie challium, the graceful 
 fandango or bolero was danced by the athletic paisanos and olive- 
 cheeked girls of the valley. 
 
 His patron had often warned him of the danger which he incurred, 
 by wandering so far among mountains so much infested by wolves ; 
 but Stuart always considered himself safe enc:::gh, as he never went 
 Avithout his sword and dirk. His host acquainted him with many 
 wonderful tales of men having been killed and devoured by them 
 among the Avild places ; and said that, mthin his recollection, nearly 
 twenty children had been carried off from the very heart of the 
 village. 
 
 " Senor," said he, on one occasion, " you can know little of the 
 nature of the wolf, as perhaps there are none now in your country ; 
 but they have the cunning of the fox, together with the strength 
 and ferocity of the tiger. On entering the village in the evening, he 
 moves about Avit'h careful and stealthy paces ; and when he seizes on 
 a child, grasps it by the throat so as to prevent it giving a single crj^, 
 and bears it away to the recesses among the hills. I have known of 
 a lad of fourteen being carried off thus. A man belonging to the 
 village, a brave guerilla of Miua's band, was attacked one evening in 
 
 u. s 
 
502 THE EOiIA^'CE OF WAB. 
 
 the pass of Banos by a band of wolves. He slew three with his rifle 
 ajid i)oniard, but the others tore him to fragments. This brought 
 the attention of senores the alcaldes of the valley to the matter, and 
 they oli'ered a reward of eighty reals, or four duros, for each wolf's 
 ncad brought to their liouses, and forthwith war was proclaimed 
 against these fierce inhabitants of the sierras. 
 
 "A dozen hides and heads -were brought in weekly, and we con- 
 tinued this dangerous sport until the British entered the valley, 
 when firing in the neighbourhood could no longer be continued. 
 Since we acted upon the olfensivCj the wolves have l)ecome more shy, 
 and never cuter the vale, but it is death to encounter the herds on 
 their own ground ; therefore I would pray you, senor, if you value 
 your own safety, never to wander about as you are pleased to do." 
 
 llonald thanked the worthy vine-dresser for his advice and good 
 wishes, but laughed at his fears about the avoI v es, and told him that 
 Avhile he was armed "with his svrord, he considered himself secure 
 against any such antagonists ; and so continued to ramble about as 
 usual. 
 
 One evening, while he was surveying the valley from his old post 
 ^.vhen the sun was setting, he became overpowered with the heat of 
 the atmosphere and the fatigue of a long walk,and fell fast asleep beside 
 u rude wooden cross, erected to mark the spot where the only abogado 
 who ever appeared in Eanos had been poniarded by his lirst client 
 for unfair dealing. How long Stuart slept there he had no idea, 
 but Avhilc dreaming that he had that worthy clerk to the royal signet, 
 IMr. Macquirk, among the mountains of ]3anos, even close to the 
 abogado's cross, and was about to take summary vengeance upon liim 
 for the manner in which he had bamboozled and s^^indled the old 
 gentleman at Lochisla, he vras awakened in a very disagreeable 
 manner by something gras^^ing him roughly by the throat. Yrith 
 the rapidity of light, all the stories he had heard of the wolves flashed 
 upon his memoiw. He was fully awake in an instant, and found 
 himself grapphng and struggling savagely "viith one of those terrible 
 animals, by moonlight, on a solitary liill-side many miles away from 
 she village, where the watch-fires of the guard-houses could be seen 
 twinkling afar off at the bottom of the deep valley, like red stars. 
 His brass gorget, and the massive lace on the collar of the coat, 
 together "".vith a stout military stock, had saved his neck from the 
 fangs of the gigantic wolf,Avhich, by straining every energy of strength 
 and courn;;e, or rather desperation, he gi-asped v.ith a ferocity 
 almost equal to its own, and retaining his hold, threw upon the turf 
 beside liim. Its struggles v.-ere terrible, and his hands, v.'hich 
 encircled its tough and brawny throat, were torn by its claws : yet he 
 never relaxed his iron clutch until the breath and strength of his 
 antagonist begiiu to fail, and then putting his right hand to his side 
 for liis Highland dirk, he remembered with rage and anguish that it 
 vas left behind at his billet. The moment was indeed a critical one. 
 iwo other wolves were approaching the spot cautiously, and Stuart, 
 /.•emembering how often he had heard of their oveiiooA^ering man by 
 numbers, considered himself for ever lost. It was like some horrible 
 dream, and his lieart became filled with an agony of horror and 
 aianii which it had never knov»'n before. 
 
 " Heaven help me now ! " gasped he. " Ah ! had I only my dirk, 
 or even a skene-dLu, they would be welcome." lie crad aloud for 
 aid, but the cries were feeble, as his tongue was swoller: and clove to 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. SOS 
 
 nis i)alatc witli the keenness of Ms terror ; and ere the echoes of his 
 fast shout died a>yay, he was strugghng with the others, and was 
 endcaYOuring to elude their fangs by rolUng over and over, and 
 fighting fiercely with hands and feet. Scarcely had the two wolves 
 come to the aid of their half-burked comrade, ere Stuart imagined 
 that other sounds than the echoes of his cry reverberated through 
 the wilderness. It was— what? the halloo of a true Highland 
 huntsman ! 
 
 "Hoigh ! Diaoul ! what's a' this ?" cried Pugald Mhor Carneron, 
 plunging headlong among them, with a long dirk gleaming in his 
 right hand and a skene-dhu in his left. One wolf fled, another was 
 pierced thrice to the vitals by Dugald's dirk, and rolled away for 
 several yards, tearing up the earth in rage and agony, until it was 
 finally destroyed by the sharp black knife being drawn across its 
 thick throat by Dugald, who handled it well, being an adroit deer- 
 stalker. The other savage, which had been so gallantly grasped by 
 Sonald, he despatched by repeated stabs of the dirk, which he drove 
 home to the hilt, sending eighteen inches of cold iron into the 
 body at every stroke. "While this passed, poor Stuart, exhausted 
 and overcome, sank backward on the turf, just as Fassiferu rode up 
 ■with his claymore drawn. 
 
 " I trust we have not been too late," he cried earnestly, as he leapt 
 from his horse, which had been snorting and shying aside from the 
 scene of the fray. " I am sure, Dugald, we answered to his first cry. 
 He is one of ours ; an officer too, — Stuart, by heavens ! " 
 
 " But for Dugald's prompt and gallant succour, all would have 
 been over vriih. me by this time, colonel," said Eonald, as w'ith 
 difficulty he staggered up from the turf, which was plentifully 
 besprinkled with the blood of his enemies. 
 
 '■ Are you hurt in any way ? " was the ea^er inquiry of both. 
 
 " My hands are torn a little ; but my sash and coat are all rent to 
 fritters." 
 
 " How opportunely Dugald came to save you ! " 
 
 " Opportune, indeed ! I will never be able to repay him for this 
 night's work." 
 
 '' Ochone ! Mr, Stuart," rephed the old man, who was cleaning 
 his weapons in liis plaid, " dinna say a word about thanks ; keep a' 
 them for the kornel there." 
 
 " I was coming over the mountains from Candeleria," said Fassifera, 
 " where I h ave been president of a court-martial. Your cries alarmed 
 us within a few yards of this old cross, and my horse began to snort 
 and rear, refusing to advance a step ; but trusty Dugald went head- 
 long on, and with his short weapons, I see, has done you right good 
 service. 'Tis well the matter is no worse, and had the wolves not 
 given you so severe a mauling, Stuart," added the colonel with a 
 smile, as he put his foot in his stirrup. "I should have sent Claude 
 for your sword again. You know you should never be without your 
 arms, or forget the order against strolling more than two miles Irora 
 camp or quarters. By my word, these were no ordinary foes to con- 
 tend with, these wolves ; they are larger than Highland shelties, and 
 their skins will be a prize for the paisanos in the morning, for 
 Dugald is, of course, too proud to take fee or reward from the 
 alcaldes." 
 
 " I have escaped their maws by a miracle," said Stuart, yet gasping 
 with the excitement of the fierce struggle 
 
 x3 
 
804 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 " By nae miracle at all, sir," said old Dugald, '•' bj' nae miracle • 
 but just by the help o' a teuch auld carle's hand and the bit caula 
 iron ; and I assure your honours, I wad rather lace a thoosand 
 rampaugin evolves, than ae kelpie, habgobliu, ^^Taith, spunkie, sheeted 
 ghaist, deidlicht, broonie, or ony ither scrap o' deevildom sae com- 
 mon at hame in the Hielands. Hoich, sirs ! it was indeed nae sma' 
 matter to cut the weasens o' thae awl'u' monsters o' wolves ; but," 
 said he, holding aloft his long Highland dagger, which flashed back 
 the rays of the moon, " but that is a blade that has rung on the 
 target o' the Iham-dearg ; and after that, what could a bold hand 
 not do ^^•i' it ? " 
 
 " On the target of whom? " asked Eonald. 
 
 " The Iham-dearg, sir." 
 
 " The words are Gaelic ; but who is he ? " 
 
 " A spirit vrC a bloody hand, that haunts at the mirk houi" the 
 wood o' Glenmore, in the Grants' country." 
 
 " What has this to do with your dirk ! " said Stuart, who became 
 interested in everything which looked like a northern legend. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Cameron ; " 'tis an old ghost story, and not one of 
 Dugald's prune ones. But he is as prosy with his legends, as Colin 
 Campbell is about EgjT)t and Balph Abercrombie." 
 
 " He doesna beUeve it noo," muttered Dugald, shaking his white 
 hau's sorrowfully ; " but when he was a bairn at hame in Fassifern- 
 house, I hae made his vera lugs tingle wi' fear at the name o' the 
 Iham-dearg, and he used to grane and greet for a licht that he micht 
 see to sleep, as he said ; and in thae days he wadua hae gane into 
 a dark place, to be made king o' the braw Highlands frae Castle 
 Grant to Lochaber. But noo wars and campaigning hae learned 
 him to scoff at a' thae matters, though his faither, the lau'd (gude 
 |uide him ! ), a man as auld as mysel, believes every word o' them. 
 I daursay, he doesna believe noo that deidlichts burn on the piper's 
 grave in the auld kirk-yaird at hame ; or that spunkies and fairies 
 bide in the glen o' Auchnacarry, kelpies in Loch-Archaig, or that 
 the daoine shie haunt the dark holes, cairns, round rings, and unco 
 places o' the Corrie-nan-gaul in Knoydart, where I mysel hae seen 
 them dancing tulloch-gorm in the bonnie moonlicht.'^ 
 
 "Certainly not, Dugald. What I believed when a child, will 
 scarcely pass now for truth ; and I believe you never saw anything 
 unearthly until Ferintosh had swelled your belt to bursting. Come, 
 DuKild, acknowledge this to be true," said Cameron, laughing. 
 
 "May be ye'll no believe in the red-cap, that haunts the auld 
 tower at Archaig ; and may be no in the vera taisch ? " said the old 
 servitor, in a voice approaching to a groan, at the other's apostasy. 
 " Ochone, may be no ! although I mysel saw bluid on his hand, and 
 tauld him o' it the day before the shot struck him there at the battle 
 of Arroya del Molino." 
 
 " Dugald," said the colonel, "' I will not argue with you about the 
 second sight, because I know you have some pretensions to the 
 character of a taischatr. You certainly have me at vantage there, 
 and your prediction about the shot at Arroya came true ; and 
 exactly twenty-four hours after you said my hand dropped blood, a 
 musket-shot passed through it. A very singular coincidence 
 indeed." 
 
 " It was nane," replied the old Gael firmly "it was nane • and I 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 305 
 
 saw the shot before it came, because there was a wreath before my 
 een, and a' the power o' the taisch was in me." 
 
 " Well, Stuart, what think you of the second sight ? " 
 
 E-onald was loath to express his disbelief in this superstition, which 
 for:nd a disciple in the colon el, and so hesitated to reply. 
 
 " I see you are too true a Highlander to disbelieve in its existence, 
 and yet you are reluctant to acJknowledge the truth," said Fassifern, 
 laughing, while he mistook the other's meaning. " But let us reach 
 Eauos, and over some of the bottled sherry which I lately got from 
 Lisbon we will discuss these matters." 
 
 This proposal was at once accepted, and they began to descend the 
 narrow and winding pathway which led from the rugged summits 
 of the sierra towards the village. Dugald advanced in front, leading 
 the horse of Cameron, who followed behind with Stuart. The latter 
 thanked his stars for escaping from his late encounter so easily, 
 haying only sustained a few severe scratches and bruises._ While 
 enjoying some of the colonel's pure bottled sherry, a rarity in Spain, 
 where the wine is ever kept in greasy hog-skins, K.onald soon forgot 
 his disagreeable adventure at the abogado's cross. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 A BATTLE. 
 
 In the long interval of time during which Lord Wellington's army 
 remained cantoned on the Spanish frontier, no hostilities took place 
 saving General Foy's fruitless attack upon Bejar, and the defeat of 
 the French under General Frimont in the vale of Sedano, near 
 Burgos. During the winter, supplies of every kind, — pay in some 
 instances excepted, — arrived from Britain, to refit the army and en- 
 able it to take the field, which it did in an efficient state in the montt 
 of May, 1813. 
 
 During the long residence of the Gordon Highlanders in the valley 
 of Bancs, they had become quite domesticated among its inhabit- 
 ?.nts ; and it was a daily occurrence to see them assisting in house- 
 hold matters, — working \vith the men in the gardens and vineyards, 
 or carrying about in their arms the little children of the patrona on 
 "ivhom they were quartered ; and before the battalion departed, the 
 venerable ciira had wedded, for weal or woe, several of the olive- 
 cheeked maidens of the valley to men who wore the garb of old 
 Gaul. 
 
 On the 13th of May the corps marched from Bancs, and the entire 
 population of the secluded vale accompanied them to the end of the 
 pass, and watched them until the notes of the war-pipes died away 
 in the ^nnd, and the last bayonet gave a farewell flash in the sun- 
 light as the rear-guard descended the mountains towards the plain of 
 Bejar, where Sir Eovvland Hill mustered and reviewed the gathering 
 brigades of his division. 
 
 The troops presented a very different appearance now from the 
 way-worn, ragged, and shoeless band which, in the close of the last 
 year, had retired from Burgos. Fresh drafts of hale and plump 
 IJritish recruits had filled up the vaanncies caused by ^rounds, star- 
 
30G THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 vatiou, and disease ; and a few months in quarters had restored the 
 Burvivors to health and strength ; the new clothing had completely 
 renovated their appearance, and all were in liigli spirits, and eager 
 again to behold their old acquaintances, 3'Iessieurs the French. Sir 
 liowlaud complimented Passilern on the apperance of his High- 
 landers, who cocked their plumes more gaily now than ever, as they 
 marched past to " the garb of old Gaul." Truly, new scarlet jackets. 
 Paisley tartan, and boimets from " skull-cleeding Kilmarnock," had 
 wrought a wonderful change upon their ranks. 
 
 Although the Duke of Dalmatia and many battalions of French 
 had been ordered into Germany, Bonaparte's army in Spain still 
 mustered 100,000 strong. King Joseph, at the head of 70,000 men, 
 kept his head-quarters at IMadrid ; the rest were scattered through 
 the eastern provinces, under Suchet and other commanders. It was 
 deterndned by the British and Spanish governments to make one 
 grand and determined effort to drive the French across the Pyrenees, 
 on again taking the field against them. An efficient train of pon- 
 toons was fitted out to assist in crossing those deep and rapid rivers 
 by which Spain is so much intersected. Everything which would 
 tend to the comfort of troops on service had been provided ; and the 
 army in the end of May, as I have before stated, commenced ofien- 
 sive measures against the enemy. 
 
 Lord Wellington, with the light division, moved on Salamanca; 
 Sir Thomas Graham crossed the Douro, ^vith orders to move on 
 Braganza, Zamora, and Tras-os-montes, and to form a junction with 
 the allies at Yalladolid ; while Sir Eowland Hill, from Estremadura, 
 was to march on the same point by_ Alba de Tormes. By these 
 movements the allies turned that position on the Dom'o which the 
 French generals had resolved to defend; and so rapid was their 
 march, that General T illatte, who occupied Salamanca ^vith three 
 thousand men, had barely time to effect a retreat, with the loss of 
 two hundred, and a few pieces of artillery. The able Wellington, 
 after placing the right and centre divisions in cantonments between, 
 the Douro and Tormes, joined Sir Thomas Graham, whose troops, 
 after encountering many difficulties in crossing rivers, ravines, and 
 mountains, over wliich they had to drag their heavy artillery and 
 pontoons, took up a position on the left, in communication with the 
 Spanish army of Galacia under General Castanos. 
 
 The French, who were utterly unprepared for these rapid move- 
 ments, retired precipitately, destroying in their retreat the bridges 
 at Toro and Zamora ; and the combined army now directed its march 
 in triumph on Valladolid, one of the finest cities of Old Castile, and 
 one which might be styled a city of convents, as it contains no fewer 
 than seventy,— one of them the palace of Philip IV. Crossing 
 Escueva, the allies continued to press impetuously forward, and the 
 enemy to retire unresistingly before them. Joseph abandoned 
 Madrid, concentrated the French legions around the castle of 
 Burgos, which he blew up on the 13th of June, and vntli his whole 
 force retired under the cloud of night towards the Ebro, the passage 
 of which his generals made every preparation to defend. But again 
 he and they were signally baffled by the skill, talent, and penetration 
 of Welhngton, who moving his troops by the San Andero road, 
 crossed the river near its source at Puente de Arenas and San Mar- 
 tino, — a measure which so disconcerted the plans of Joseph and 
 
THE HOilANCE OF WaE. 3'.)/ 
 
 Marshal Jourdau, that they were again compelled to retreat, and tho 
 allied army continued its loarch to Vittoria. 
 
 On the 20th of June the second division encamped on the plain of 
 Puebla, near Vittoria. The lirst brigade vv-as then commanded by 
 the Hon. William Stuart (a brother of the Earl of Gallo^7ay), a ti-U(i 
 and gallant soldier of the old school, whose valuable services receiveti 
 no requital from his country. 
 
 The time had now arrived when Josei)h was compelled to make a 
 final and determined stand in defence of the crown he had usurped. 
 or behold it torn ingloriously from his brow, and on the very ground 
 -where Edward the Black Prince, on the 3rd of April, 1367, totally 
 defeated another intruder on the Spanish soil— Henry the Bastard, 
 and restored Don Pedro to the crown of Castile. The time was like- 
 ^^•ise arrived when the legions of Prance, whose movements since the 
 commencement of the campaign had been a series of retreats, sliould 
 make a decisive effort to renew their fading laurels, or_ by beinc: 
 driven disgracefully across the Pyrenees, lose for ever that hara- 
 earned fame which they won under the banners of the great 
 Emperor. 
 
 Early on the morning of the 21st of June the allies were in motion • 
 Sir Wilham Stuart's brigade moved in front of the second division, 
 which marched along the high road to Vittoria. The morning was 
 beautiful, the earth was fresh with dew, and the merry larks were 
 soaring aloft over bright yellow fields, which were soon to be drenched 
 vrith blood. The sky was clear, blue, and cloudless, and the shining 
 current of the Zadorra flowed among thickets and fields of ripe 
 waving corn, which often afforded concealment to the hght troops 
 during the action. Violets, cowslips, and a thousand little flovv^ers 
 which flourish so plentifully by the waj^-sides in Spain, were bloom- 
 ing gaudily in the fresh dew ; the brown partridge was whirrin;^; 
 about, and ever and anon a fleet rabbit shot past as the troops moved 
 into the corn-fields, treading and destroying the hopes and support 
 of many a poor husbandman. Afar off, their hues mellowed by the 
 distance, rose the bold and lofty ridges of the Pyrenees and other 
 sierras, the outlines of which appeared distinctly against the pure 
 blue beyond. Save the near tread of feet, or the distant blast of a 
 bugle, no other sounds were borne on the morning wind but the 
 bleating of sheep and goats, or a matin-bell tinkling in some soUtary 
 hermitage, calling its superstitious inmates to prayer for the success 
 of the friends of Spain. 
 
 To the British it was known that the enemy were in position in 
 front, and every heart beat high, and every fibre wasthrilling with 
 excitement, as the columns moved towards the plains in front of the 
 to■^^^l of Vittoria. Moving in close column of companies, the High- 
 landers marched through a field of ripened corn, v.hich nearly over- 
 topped the plumes of their bonnets. The other corps of the division 
 followed and then halted for a time, during which the crop, which 
 was all ready for the sickle, was soon trodden to mire. But " neces • 
 sity has no law." The flints were examined, the colours uncased, 
 and the drummers were provided with temporary htters, formed oi 
 pikes and blankets, for bearing off" the wounded officers. 
 
 Fassifern's eyes kindled up with that bright and peculiar expres- 
 . sion which they ever had when he became excited. 
 
 " Highlanders ! " cried he, as the regiment again moved forwanU 
 
308 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 " in a few minutes we shall be engaged with the enemy ; but 1 neea 
 not exhort you to do your duty, for in that you have never yet 
 failed. Keep the strictest silence on the march, but you may shout 
 till the mountains ring again when the pipes blow to the charge." 
 
 "Fu' surely and brawly we'll set up a skraigh then, lads \" said 
 his equerry, Dugald ]\Ihor, who Avas the only man who dared to 
 reply. " But it's an unco' thing for Hielandmen to keep their 
 tongues still, whan the bonnie sheen o' steel is glintin' in their een. 
 Troth, lads, we'll gie a roar that will mak' Eonaparte himsel shake 
 in his shoon, if he be withm hearin'." 
 
 The soldiers began to cheer and laugh, while Dugald waved his 
 bonnet ; but the voice of the colonel arrested them. 
 
 "Silence, Dugald !" said he to that aged follower, who with his 
 sword draAATi stuck close to the flanks of his horse ; " silence ! You 
 always create some uproar in the ranks by your odd observations. 
 I am ever apprehensive that you will thrust yourself needlessly into 
 danger ; and indeed it would relieve me of much anxiety, if you 
 would remain in the rear. You know well, Dugald, hov/ much I 
 would regret it, should anything happen to you during the engage- 
 ment to-day." 
 
 " That depends just upon yoursel, sir : whar ye lead, I will follow," 
 replied the old man, whom the world would not have tempted to 
 separate himself from Cameron, who had often insisted on many 
 occasions that Dugald should not peril himself by coming under fire. 
 These were injunctions Avhich the obstinate old vassal valued not a 
 rush ; and so in these good-natured altercations the master was 
 always overcome by the man, who seemed to regard fighting rather 
 as a sport or a pleasant source of excitement, just as one would view 
 a fox or stag hunt. 
 
 While Major Campbell was boring Ronald Stuart with a painfully- 
 accurate account of the battle of Alexandria, and the position of the 
 [French forces on that memorable occasion, the legions of Joseph 
 Bonaparte appeared in sight. As each regiment quitted the path 
 among the corn-fields, and entered upon the plain before Yittoria, 
 ■they came in view of the whole battle-array of the enemy, occupying 
 a strong position covering each of the three great roads, which at 
 Yittoria concentrate in the road to Bayonne. The long lines of dark 
 infantry appeared perfectly motionless, but their burnished arms 
 were shining like silver in the sun ; the tri-colours of the legions 
 were fluttering in the breeze, and many of their bands struck up the 
 gay Cd ira and Mai-seiUois hymn on the approach of the allies. 
 
 The right flank of Joseph's army extended northward from Yit- 
 toria, across the stream of the Zadorra, and rested on the hills above 
 the villages of Gamarra Mayor and Abechuco, covered there by 
 strong redoubts. Between the right and centre was a thick cork- 
 wood, into which were thrown many corps of infantry, to keep 
 open the line of communication. The right centre rested on a 
 height which commanded the vale of the Zadorra, and which was 
 strengthened by nearly one hundred pieces of artillery. Their left 
 and centre occupied the bold ridges above the village of Subijana de 
 Alava, with a corps de reserve posted at Gomecha, and a brigade 
 throAvn forward on the lofty and rocky mountains of Puebla, to 
 protect their centre, which might have been outflanked by the main- 
 rood where it crosses the Zadorra. Joseph Buonaparte in person 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 309 
 
 csommanded the whole, having Marshal Jourdan acting under him 
 as lieutenant-general. The armies were pretty well matched, each 
 mustering from 70,000 to 75,000 men, the French having the ad- 
 vantage in occupying a strong position, which every means had been 
 taken to strengthen. 
 
 Each regiment of Hill's division, on its debouching from the 
 Vittoria road, formed line from close column, and advanced in that 
 order towards the enemy. To the latter, the view of the allied army 
 at that hour must have presented a grand and imposing spectacle ; 
 so many dense masses moving successively into the plain, and 
 deploying into line by companies obUquely, with all the steadiness 
 and regularity of a review ; the bright barrels and bayonets of 
 upwards of 70,000 muskets shining in the rays of the morning sun ; 
 the silken standards of many colours — red, buff, white, blue, and 
 yellow — waving over them; the bright scarlet uniforms, relieved by 
 the varied green of the landscape ; and then the many warlike 
 sounds increased the effect of the scene. The neighing of cavalrj' 
 horses, the roll of tumbrils and gun-carriages, the distant yet distinct 
 word of command, the mingling music of many bands, the trumpets 
 of the horse, the bugles of the riflemen, and the hoarse waihng war- 
 pipe of the Highland regiments, ever and anon swelled upon the 
 breeze, pealing among the heights of Puebla, and dying away among 
 the windings in the vale of Zadorra. 
 
 The prospect before them must have been one of no ordinary in- 
 terest to the martial legions of Prance. At the moment that the 
 distant bells of the convent of Santa Clara de Alava struck a quarter 
 to ten, the memorable battle of Vittoria began. 
 
 " There go the Spaniards — the soldiers of old ]\lurillo ! " exclaimed 
 Seaton, as a loud and continued discharge of musketry rang among 
 the ridges of Puebla. The sound caused every heart to bound, for 
 the day was big with the fate of many ! 
 
 " Murillo and the Conde d'Amarante have attacked the left of 
 the French," said Cameron, watching the operations through his 
 telescope ; " but they will be compelled to retire unless succoured, 
 and that promptly, too ! The heights are becoming covered with 
 smoke By heavens ! they are giving way." 
 
 At that moment an aicie-de-camp dashed up to the brigade, with 
 ir Rowland's order for the 71st regiment to advance, and sustain 
 the attack on the heights, in concert with the light companies of the 
 division, while the Highlanders and 50th regiment were to support 
 them in turn. 
 
 " Now then, Stuart ! " said Seaton, giving Bonald an unceremonious 
 slap on the shoulder, '"' see if another gold cross is to be won upon 
 Puebla. We shall be under fire in five minutes, — forward, light 
 bobs ! Forward, double quick ! " Away they went in high spirits to 
 the assistance of old Murillo, whose troops were already wavering, 
 under the steady fire of the French. The roar of cannon and 
 musketry had now become general along the lines, and was absolutely 
 astounding. War on a great scale is a grand, yet a terrible thing. 
 The whole valley of the Zadorra,— the fortified heights of Gomecha 
 on the enemy's right, those of Puebla on their left, the dark 
 woodlands between, the corn-fields, the hedges, and all the grassy 
 plain below, were enveloped in smoke, streaked with continual flashes 
 of fire. In the villages every hut had become a fortress, loop-holed 
 
310 THE KOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 and barricaded, every wall of cabbage garden and vineyard 
 breast v/orlc, for possession of which armed men contested 'despe- 
 rately, hand to hand, and point to point. 
 
 The Honourable Colonel Cadogan commanded the 71st. and othe. 
 companies, which moved up the heights to the assistance of the 
 Spaniard/5 on the extreme of the British right. Torming line on the 
 bill-side, they advanced with a determination and impetuosity truly 
 admirable towards the enemy, whose close and deadly fire was 
 thinning their numbers rapidly, 
 
 " Now, soldiers ! upon them like fury ! Forward, charge ! " cried 
 Cadogan, dashing spurs into his horse's sides, A loud liurrah. was 
 the reply, and simultaneously they pushed forward ^nth the bayonet, 
 and rushing like a torrent through clouds of smoke and sweeping 
 volleys of shot, fell headlong upon the enemy, and all was for a time 
 lie\nng with the sword and butt, or stabbing with bayonet and pike. 
 A severe and bloody struggle ensued, but the French were driveu 
 tumultuously from the heights, after suffering immense loss, and 
 having their commanding officer captured, 
 
 Ronald, who ^ras then engaged in a charge for the first time, 
 became bewildered, — almost stunned with the whirl, the din, and 
 the wild uproar around him. The excitement of the soldiers had 
 been raised to the utmost pitch, and they became, as it were, in- 
 toxicated with the danger, smoke, noise, blood, and death which 
 surrounded them. 
 
 Impetuously they continued to press forward upon the foe with all 
 the fury of uncurbed steeds, and the conflict was renewed, foot to foot, 
 breast to breast, bayonet to bayonet, and with eyes of fire men glared 
 at each other above their crossed weapons. When rushing forward 
 with his company, at the moment they mingled with the enemy, 
 Stuart encountered— or I should rather say, when half-bhnded with 
 smoke, ran violently against a French officer, a cut from whose sabre 
 he parried with his dirk, while at the moment, he passed his sword 
 through his shoulder, hurling monsieur to the earth ■i\ith the force 
 of the thrust. At that instant he was stunned and laid prostrate by 
 a blow on the back part of the head, dealt from behind by the 
 butt-end of a firelock, or truncheon of a pike. Vainly he strove to 
 regain his feet, but reeled senseless on the sod, and the last sounds 
 he heard were the triumphant cheers of the British, drowming the 
 feebler cry of Vive VEmpereur ! from their antagonists. Almost at 
 the same moment the brave Colonel Cadogan fell from his horse, 
 writhing on the grass with the agony of a mortal wound, A yell 
 burst from his regiment, the Highland Light Infantry, as they 
 beheld him fall ; an echoing shout broke from their companions, and 
 redoubling theu' efforts with the bayonet, after frightful carnage, 
 they obliged the enemy to retire precipitately down the mountains. 
 Their left was thus completely routed and in disorder, and the 
 British flag waved triumphantly on the bloody summits of Puebla. 
 
 Encouraged by this good fortune. Sir Rowland Hill ordered his 
 secpnd and third brigades to attack the heights of Subijana de Alava, 
 which were gallantly carried after a severe and stern conffict. King 
 Joseph, alarmed at the loss of these important positions, directed 
 his left wing to fall back for the defence of Vittoria, and Sir Rowland, 
 pressing forward with his usual vigour, followed up this retreating 
 movement. 
 
 Cole and Picton attacked their centre, and after a spirited re- 
 
THE SOMANCE OF \VAB. 311 
 
 Bistance the whole chain of heights was abandoned, and the French 
 army began to retire, but in admirable order, on Yittoria, General 
 Graham dislodged the enemy fro.ii the hills above Abechuco. and his 
 countryman General Eobertson, 'vithout permitting his troops to 
 fire a shot, but solely acting with the bayonet, drove them from 
 Gammarra Mayor after great slaughior, and sustaining during the 
 advance a tremendous fire of cannon and musketry. Towards 
 evening Graham's division was pushed forward across the Zadorra, 
 and ordered to secure the road leading to Bayonne. By that time 
 Lord Wellington's centre had penetrated to Yittoria, and the enemj^s 
 right wing had totally given way. All was now lost, and the gi-eatcst 
 confusion ensued among the foe. The court equipage of King 
 Joseph, the baggage, the artillery, and the military chest of his 
 army were all captured. Those columns retreating on the road_ to 
 Bayonne were driven like herds of sheep back upon that which 
 leads to Pampehma, and then the French army became one vast 
 mob, a disorganized and fugitive rabble. Joseph, omng his safety 
 to the swiftness of his horse, abandoned the wreck of his troops and 
 fled towards Pampeluna, hotly pursued by CaptainAYyndham with a 
 squadron of the 10th Hussars. In this great victory the loss of the 
 alhed army amounted to 5,000, and that of the French to G,000 or 
 upwards, and the defeat of the survivors was attended by every 
 awompaniment of disgrace. A thousand prisoners were captured 
 by the allies, and of the two solitary guns, of all his immense train, 
 which Joseph succeeded in taking off, one alone reached Pampeluna, 
 the other being taken next day. 
 
 Lord Wellington deserves the highest admiration for the ex- 
 cellence of his dispositions and manoeuvres during the whole of thati 
 brilliant campaign, and most decisive victory. Every arrangement, 
 every movement of the French generals, had been completely baffled 
 and disconcerted by his superior skill and military talents. In four 
 weeks he had driven them from Madrid to Yittoria, turning their 
 strong positions on the Douro and Ebro, and at last compelling 
 Joseph and Jourdan to show fight at a point where their army was 
 utterly destroyed. 
 
 The battle had almost been fought and won while Eonald 
 Stuart lay senseless among the heaps of killed and wounded on the 
 hills of Puebla. The French, after being repulsed from the latter, 
 detached a legion, 7,000 strong, to recover them, which movement 
 being perceived by General Stewart, he despatched Fassifern mth 
 his Highlanders to the assistance of the troops already tliere. The 
 regiment moved quickly to the front, and after inconceivable ex- 
 ertions gained the summit by clambering up the steepest part of the 
 mountains, a feat perhaps only to have been performed by Scots or 
 Switzers. They soon reached the spot where the desperate charge 
 had been made. Cadogan lay there di'enched in his blood, and the 
 carnage around him showed how fierce had been the conflict. 
 
 " Our light company men are lying tWok here," said Fassifern, as 
 he looked sternly around him. 
 
 " Here is Stuart," exclaimed Bevan. " Poor fellow, this is his last, 
 field ! " The regiment passed in open column, double-quick, beyond 
 the place where Eonald lay to all appearance, what his brotber 
 oflicers thought him to be, dead. Close by him lay Torriano, a 
 lieutenant of the 71st, severely wounded, but there was no time to 
 look at them. The Highlanders moved onward to the assistance of 
 
312 THE E0MA2CCE OF WAB. 
 
 their friends the oOth and Highland Light Infantry, who were 
 severely handled by the enemy on the other side of the heights. 
 There the carnage was appalling in some parts, where the ranks oi 
 friend and foe had fallen across each other in piles. Smoke and 
 bright flashing steel were seen everywhere, and the echoes of the 
 musketry reverberated among the deep ravines and grassy summits 
 of La Puebla. The overwhelming legion were still advancing ; they 
 liad outflanked the 71st, and cut off its communication "with the 
 oOtli ; and the superiority of the French numerical force was com- 
 pelhng these brave regiments to waver, when the cheers of their 
 Highland comrades rang among the mountains, as they descended 
 to their assistance. As Cadogan had fallen, the command of the 
 troops devolved on Fassifern, and, acting under his orders, the three 
 battalions compelled the legion to retire in disgrace and disorder. 
 
 Three other attacks did they make in succession, and \ntli greater 
 strength, but the attempts were vain. The first brigade were re- 
 solved to hold Puebla or perish, and Cameron continually drove 
 them back. As the Highlanders said, "their hearts werna stoot 
 eneuch for sae stay a brae," and the proud Frenchmen were com- 
 pelled to abandon all hopes of regaining the important position. 
 
 Eonald lay long insensible where he fell, and when life returned, the 
 fii'st sounds which saluted his ears were the distant roar of the 
 musketry, and all the confused din of a great battle, which the 
 oreeze bore up from the nlaius to the mountains where he lay. 
 From loss of blood and the* tunning effects of the blow, he was long 
 unable to rise or even to speak ; but his ear was intensely awake to 
 every sound around him, and he eagerly longed to know how the 
 tide of battle was turning in the valley below. The aching and 
 smarting pain in his head was excessive. He placed his hand behind, 
 and "withdrew it covered with blood, and closing his eyes, again sunk 
 backwards on the gory turf. Although his ears were invaded by the 
 distressing cries and hoarse groans of agony from the wounded 
 around him, his heart wandered to that Highland home where his 
 very soul seeraed to be garnered up ; and in that terrible moment he 
 would have given the universe, were it his, for a single glance at the 
 heather hills and the wild woods around the old grey tower of 
 Lochisla. He thought of his white-haired sire, and of what would 
 be his sufferings and feehngs should his only son perish in the land 
 of the stranger. Alice, too, — but the thought of her inspired him 
 with new life and spirit. He rose and unclasped her miniature, 
 which was clotted and covered with his blood ; he restored it to his 
 breast, and looked about him. As the noise of the battle still con- 
 tinued without abatement, and he heard the shouts and battle-cry of 
 the French mingled with the cheers of the British at times, he asked 
 a French soldier who sat near him, shot through the leg, if he 
 knew how the day had gone. He answered, without a moment's 
 hesitation that the troops of the great Emperor had outflanked, 
 beaten, and cut to pieces those of Wellington, who was on the road 
 to Lisbon, flying as fast as his horse could carry him. Although 
 Honald put little dependence on this information, he resolved to 
 satisfy himself. The Frenchman kindly bound up his head, and 
 gave him a httle brandy from his canteen; for which the Scotsman 
 gave him his earnest thanks, being quite unable to yield more solid 
 remuneration, not having seen a day's pay for six months. Making 
 
THE SOMANCE Of \Vi.E. 313 
 
 use of his svrord as a support, lie got upon bis feet, and all things 
 seemed to s^ini around him as he staggered forward. 
 
 Cadogan had been carried off by two soldiers of bis own regiment, 
 but his horse was lying dead upon a wounded Highlander, who bad 
 long struggled to free himself from its oppressive weight, and now 
 called aloud to Eonald, who was unable to yield him the shghtest 
 assistance. As he passed slowly onwards to that part of the heights 
 whence he expected to have a view of the whole battle-field, be 
 beheld the oflicer whom be bad encountered lying dead, pierced -with 
 a score of bayonet wounds. A soldier of the light company lay dead 
 across him, with his face literally dashed to pieces by a blow from 
 the butt-end of a musket, and so much was he disfigured that it w^as 
 impossible to recognize him. Close by a piper of the 71st lay dead, 
 with his pipe under his arm; bis blood had formed a black pool 
 around him of more than a yard square. Hundreds were lying 
 everywhere in the same condition ; but further details would only 
 prove tiresome or revolting. 
 
 "With much difficulty Stuart gained the extremity of the ridge, 
 and the whole soul-stirring display of the field of Vittoria burst at 
 once upon his gaze, extending over a space of ground fully six miles 
 in length. Truly, thicker than leaves in autumn, the bodies of men 
 were slirewed along the whole length of the hostile armies. The 
 warm light of the setting sun was beaming on the mountain tops, 
 but its lustre had long since faded on the sylvan vale of the Zadorra, 
 ^vbere the shadows of evening were setting on the pale faces of the 
 dead and the dying. The plains of Yittoria, too, were growing dark, 
 but at the first view Ronald was enabled to perceive, and his heart 
 beat protidly while he did so, that the allies had conquered, and the 
 boastful story of the Gaul was false. 
 
 Afar off he beheld dense clouds of dust rolling along the roads 
 which led to Pampeluna and Bayonne. There the glistening arms 
 were flashing in the light of the western sky, as the brigades of 
 British cavalry swept on like whirlwinds, charging and driving before 
 them, sabre a la main, the confused masses of French infantry, who, 
 when their position was abandoned, retired httrriedly towards the 
 main roads for France. He saw bis own di\ision far down the plain, 
 driving a column like a herd of sheep along the banks of the river 
 towards Yittoria ; beyond which they pursued them, until the smoke 
 of the conflict, and the dust which marked its route, were hidden by 
 the cloud of night. 
 
 But long before this he had begun to descend the hills, and weak 
 and wearied as he was, he found it no easy task to scramble among 
 the furze, briers, and brambles with which their sides were covered. 
 At the foot of them be found many men of bis owa. regiment l.nng 
 dead. These had been slain by the fire of a few field-pieces, whicli 
 the French had brought to bear upon them while moving towards 
 Puebla. The moon broke forth when he reached the banks of the 
 Zadorra, which he forded, the water rising up to his waist. This 
 drenching added greatly to bis misery, as the night was cold and 
 chilly ; but he vralked onward as rapidly as he could, with the hope 
 of reaching Subijana de Alava, Yittoria, or anyplace where he might 
 hope to get his wound dressed, after which he trusted that he should 
 be able to rejoin the regiment without delay. But losing his way, he 
 wandered across the field, where the bodies of men and horses, dead 
 
314 THE EOilANCE OF TTAE. 
 
 or yet rolling about, broken waggons, dismounted or abandoned 
 cannon, encumbered him at every step. 
 
 No shrieks now saluted his ears as he passed over the plain; but 
 groans— deep and harrowing groans of agony, and half-muttered 
 cries for water, or pious ejaculations, were heard, on every side, while 
 the ghastly and distorted faces, the glazed and upturned eyes, the 
 black and bloody wounds of the dead appeared horrible, as the pale 
 light of the moon fell on them. The vast field, although so many 
 thousand men lay prostrate upon it, was, comparatively speaking, 
 still; and to Ronald there seemed something sad and awful in the 
 silence which succeeded the ear-deafening roar of the battle which 
 had rung there the hve-long day. Many a strong hand was stretched 
 there powerless, and many a gallant heart, which had beat high with 
 liope and bravery in the morning, lay there cold enough at night. 
 
 Little think the good folk at home,— those who for days would be 
 haunted by the memory of some sudden death, which possibly they 
 had witnessed in the streets, — little do these good people imagine, or 
 perhaps care, for the mighty amount of misery accumulated on a 
 single battle-field, and the woe it may carry into many a happy home 
 and domestic circle. But the agony of dying men, and the tears of 
 }vomen, are alike forgotten and unheeded when forts fire, cities 
 illuminate, balls are given, and mails sweep along, decorated with 
 llags and laurels, in honour of a victory. 
 
 Eager to leave the field behind him, Stuart hurried forward as 
 well as he was able, until, stumbling over a dead cavalry horse, he 
 fell violently to the earth, and his wound bursting out afresh, the 
 light faded from his eyes, and he lay in a sort of stupor across the 
 corse of a French soldier, in whose breast a twelve-pound shot vras 
 buried. While lying there, he became tortured with an intense 
 thirst, which he found it impossible to alleviate, until a drizzhng 
 rain began to descend, and after exercising his patience, he caught 
 enough in the hollow of his hand to moisten his parched lips. 
 
 The sound of voices close by recalled him to himself fully, and he 
 found that he was in imminent danger. A file of Portuguese soldiers 
 approached, bearing a lantern to assist them in effectually plundering 
 the dead. The knapsacks of soldiers vrere ripped open, and the 
 contents carefully scanned ; and the epaulets, lace, stars, &c., vrere 
 torn away from the uniforms of the ofdcers. Stuart's blood boiled 
 up "within him to behold brother soldiers, men in arms, engaged in 
 an occupation so truly despicable ; but well aware of the danger 
 incurred by encountering or threatening people so unscrupulous as 
 :''teath-hunters, he only grasped the hilt of his dirk, and lay perfectly 
 still until they had passed by, which they luckily did without 
 observing him. 
 
 Scarcely were they gone, when another vrretch appeared, bent on 
 the same disgraceful errand. He was either a robber or guerilla, 
 and carried on the hollow of his left arm a musket, from which 
 dangled a long leather sling. A pewter crucifix glittered on the 
 band of his broad-leaved hat, and the pohshed brass hilts of the 
 double daggers and pistols in his sash gleamed in the light of the 
 moon, which at that moment shone forth vdih. pecuhar brilliancy. 
 A new pair of large epaulets, which Stuart had put on a few days 
 before, attracted this worthy's attention, and he came straight 
 towards the wearer to possess himself of them. 
 
 lYhat were the feelings of the young Highlander to behold in the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAK. 315 
 
 robber the abhorred Narvaez Cifuentes, the destroyer of the noble 
 and beautiful Cataliua ! Au electric shock seemed to pass over 
 every fibre, and again his heart boat violently. He grasped tighter 
 the thistle-hilt of his short weapon, and watched with an eagle eye 
 the motions of the robber. Karvaez knew him the moment their 
 eyes met, and uttering a short but emphatic oath, he sprung forward 
 and kaped upon lionald with his whole weight, and pressing a knee 
 upon each arm, perfectly incapacitated him from making any 
 defence, especially in his weak and v/ounded state. 
 
 " How now, my gay senor soldado !" said Narvaez with a chuckling 
 lauah, after tliey had glared at each other in silence for a few seconds. 
 "Methinks we have met at last, under circumstances somewhat 
 disadvantageous to your safety." 
 
 I'onald's only reply was a frantic attempt to free himself from the 
 iron grasp of the other. 
 
 " Ee still, — carajo ! " said the ruffian as he unsheathed a poniard ; 
 " be still, or I may mercifully give a deep stroke at once, ^vithout 
 ha\'ing the little conversation I wish to enjoy with you, before you 
 die." 
 
 " Dog of a robber ! — dog of a Spaniard ! " gasped Ronald in a 
 hoarse accent. " Free but my right hand, and, weak and exhausted 
 as 1 am, I will meet you — " 
 
 " Ho, Demonios ! a rare request ! Par Diez ! no, no, mi aimgo. 
 1 will have these bright epaulets (which I beg you \d\\ not spoil by 
 struggling so), and I will have this golden cross and other things, 
 without either the risk or trouble of trying points with you. Hah ! 
 have you forgotten the night when we first met at Albuquerque ? 
 Ey our Lady of Majorga, you shall this night know that I have not ! 
 l^"e have many odd scores to pay off, and they may as well be settled 
 here on the field of Yittoria, as elsewhere. _ Besides, Senor Valour,, 
 when your corse is found, you will be mentioned among the killed 
 •in the Gaceta de la Regencia. Hah ! hah ! " 
 
 '" Wretch ! you forget that this day my blood has been shed for 
 Spain and Ferdinand v II. ! " 
 
 "You have been paid for that, I suppose," replied the fellow, 
 accompanying his observation, which might have suited a British 
 Eadical, with an insulting laugh, while SLuart panted with rage. 
 
 " Now, then, — what would you do were you released by me ? *' 
 
 " Stab you to the heart ! " 
 
 The robber laughed. 
 
 " Cuidado was ever my motto," said he ; " a dead man telb no 
 tales." 
 
 Grasping and compressing Eonald's throat with his left hand, he 
 nourished aloft hij right, which held his stiletto, a sharp short 
 dagger, with a round blade like that instrument known Jis a butcher's 
 steeL "Isow, valienie 5e?fo;', compound for death, and not for life. 
 I may ])rolong your tortures, giving a hundred slabs instead of one: 
 but your dying moment shall be easy, if the lining of your pockets is 
 tolerable. A stab for every duro ! hah ! hah ! " 
 
 That instinctive feeling vdiicli causes every man to struggle to the 
 utmost to preserve life, arose powerfully in tlie breast of Eonald 
 Stuart at that instant, when he sav/ the deadly blade of the ruthless 
 assassin gleaming above him in the moonlight. He felt that his la-st 
 moment was comOj and yet he resolved not to die Avithout another 
 j'lallant struggle. Exerting every energy, — straining every musclo 
 
316 THE EOMANCE OF WA.U. 
 
 and fibre, by one desperate effort he hurled the robber violently 
 backwards ; but before he could rise^ his merciless assailant again 
 sprung upon him ^vith renewed ferocity, and striking blindly with 
 his stiletto, buried it twice in the turf close by Ronald's ear. There 
 can be little doubt that this new attack would have terminated 
 fatally for him, had not two officers, muffled to the eyes in their 
 cloaks, ridden hastily up, upon which the robber, without attempting 
 to strike another blow, snatched up his rifle and fled, — but not 
 unscathed. 
 
 " A death-hunter ! He shall die, by heavens ! " exclaimed one or 
 the strangers, snatching a pistol from his holsters and firing after 
 Cifuentes, who was seen bounding A\ith the speed of the greyhound 
 over the encumbered field, and the moon shone full upon him. A 
 sharp howl of pain followed the report of the shot. 
 
 " Your shot has told, my lord," said the other officer. '' These 
 rascals deserve no mercy." 
 
 " The fellow is leaping along yet. I would again fire, but for the 
 waste of powaer." 
 
 "He was struggling with some one here." 
 
 " Your arrival has been very fortunate," said Eonald, in a voice 
 which faltered from weariness and excitement. " I have liad a pro- 
 tracted and desperate struggle with the ruffian, and must have 
 perished under his hands at last, as 1 am weak with loss of blood, and 
 totally incapable of defending myself" 
 
 "Put this to your mouth," said the first speaker, "and take a 
 hearty pull. 'Tis cold whisky-toddy, — a beverage not often got so 
 near the Pyrenees." 
 
 "Thanks, sir!" said S/onald, as he put the flask to his lips, and 
 drank gratefully of the contents. " So we have gained the day." 
 
 " Gloriously ! " replied the other. " But where are you wounded ? " 
 
 " On the head, — by a blow from a musket-butt, or shaft of a pike. 
 I received it on the heights of Puebla." 
 
 "Ah, there was sharp work there, when the battle began this 
 morning. So you belong to the fighting division — Sir Rowland's T 
 You have wandered a long way from the heights." 
 
 "I was endeavouring to rejoin my regiment," replied Eonald, 
 staggering up, and propping himself with his sword ; " I_was loath 
 to be absent wliile I could hft a limb. But to whom am i indebted 
 for my t-afety? You are both countrjinen, I beheve, by your 
 voices." 
 
 "You arc right," rephed the officer who wounded Cifuentes, 
 " This is Captain Eamsay of the 18th Hussars, — Eamsay of the 
 Dyke-neuk-heid, as we call him at home ; and I am Lord Dalhousie. 
 We are riding to join the seventh division." 
 
 " I was not aware to whom I had the honour of addressing my- 
 self," said Eonald. " I shall be obliged by your lordship informing 
 me where my own regiment now is." 
 
 " The Gordon Highlanders, I presume ? " 
 
 " Exactly, my lord, — in Stuart's, late Howard's brigade." 
 
 " A brave regiment, and my heart warmed at the sight of their 
 tartans to-day. They are a long way from this, pursuing the French 
 along the Pampeluna road, and are probably as far as Salvatierra by 
 this time." 
 
 " Then I can never reach them to-night," said Stuart, dejectedly. 
 
 " Here are some of the waggon-train," said the earl. " To their 
 
THE EOiIA^X■E OF WAR. 317 
 
 oare we must consign you and be off forthwith, as all the troops are 
 pressing I'orward en route for the Pyrenees." 
 
 As Dalhousie and his aide-de-canip rode off, the noise of wheels 
 and cracking of whips announced the arrival of some of the lloyal 
 Waggon-train. One of the cars wa,s advancing straight towards him. 
 but slowly, as its course ^\■as continually impeded by the dead ana 
 wounded lying across its way. An officer of the train, with an 
 immense plume in his cocked hat, and wearing the rich unitorm of 
 this easy branch of the service, rode beside the waggon, into which 
 they were putting those a\ ounded men whose cries attracted their 
 attention. 
 
 " The heights of Puebla ? " said the waggon-ofScer, in a tone of 
 surprise and expostulation to another who rode beside him. " Oh I 
 it is quite impossible to detach any of my party so far." 
 
 " How, sir ! so far ? " replied the other angrily, in the voice of 
 Major Campbell. " ^ind is a brave lad to bleed to death and have 
 his bones picked by the corbies, because a loon like you is afraid to 
 climb a hill ? By the Lord ! he shall not perish through the neglect 
 of one like you, whose ^^•hole .share of a battle is seeing the smoke 
 and hearing the noise at a comfortable distance, and then coming in 
 with these infernal rattletraps to pick up the wounded Avhen the 
 danger is all over." 
 
 He of the vv^aggons wns too much enraged to reply readily ; and 
 before he could speak, Ivomdd heard the voices of Macdonald and 
 Evan Iverach. 
 
 " Come, major, don't quarrel about it. I am afraid that it will be 
 a fruitless errand seeking Stuart among the heights. Poor fellow ! 
 I am too sure he ^vas quite dead when we passed him this morning." 
 
 '•' Oh, Mr. Macdonald, dinna say sae ! " groaned Evan, who had 
 been lamenting as they came along, " dinna say sae ! I have had an 
 awfu' day o' wae and anxiety upon his account. There he is— God 
 preserve me in my senses ! No, my een dinna deceive me, — there he 
 is ! " cried Evan in a voice rising into a scream nearly, while he 
 rushed forward as Stuart's figure, moving slowly towards them, met 
 Ills \iew. Evan, as usual, began to caper and dance, blubber and 
 weep "^Aitli joj% Avliile Campbell and Abater warmly shook the hand 
 of his master. 
 
 " Ha, Stuart, my lad ! I knew you were hard to kill," said Camp- 
 bell ; " and so, in spite of Alister's assertions that you were gone ' to 
 the land of the leal,' I determined to set out in search of you as soon 
 as the regiment halted. Old Ludovick Lisle of ours Avould have 
 been buried alive, once upon a time, in Egj^pt, but for my inter- 
 ference. He had been struck down by an iron mace in some brawl 
 with a loon of a Mameluke, and I knew that he was only stunned : so 
 I poured a glass of brandy do\vn his throat, and brandy never failed 
 to bring old Ludovick to, whatever was the matter." 
 
 Eonald objected to entering the waggon, Mhich was already 
 crowded, and the bottom of it was covered with blood : so it moved 
 off, the officer telling Campbell he should hear from him in the 
 morning. The major replied that he should be very happy, and dis- 
 mounting, gave his horse to Stuart ; who, as they moved along, gave 
 a report of his encounter with Cifuentes, and interview with Lord 
 Dalhousie. 
 
 "He is a brave man and a good officer," said Campbell. " And as 
 for I?arasay, of the Lyke-nuek-heid, he is, thougli a LowAanaer oue 
 
 y 
 
818 THE KOMANCK OF WAK. 
 
 of the finest fellows I ever met, and tne nest mixer of Athol bros©. 
 and whiskey-punch in the three kin'^donis. But we must move for- 
 ward as fast as i)ossible. Spur up this nag, Stuart ; he was a Prench 
 dragoon-horse this morning, but has changed masters. My poor Ro- 
 sinanto, on which you ran such a rig at Almarez, was shot under m© 
 as we ascended the heights. Cameron, likewise, had his horse killed 
 under him ; and, to make the matter worse, had another killed over 
 him, by which he was confoundedly bruised." 
 
 " J3ut I see. major, that your left arm is in a sling." 
 
 " I received a scratch from the sabre of a French sub, who assailed 
 me before I could draw Andrea ; but I knocked him down with my 
 stick, disarmed, and took him prisoner." 
 
 " AVell, Alister, I rejoice to see you have escaped this time ; and. 
 Evan, my trusty fellow, too." 
 
 " A' sound and haill, sir • but I had a narrow escape frae a sharp- 
 shooter birkie, wha put tnree shot through my bonnet just before 
 the regiment cam' rattling doon the brae to our assistance." 
 
 " And how have the corps fared throughout this eventful day ?" 
 
 " Easily, indeed," replied Macdonald, " considering how our friends 
 the 71st and the oOth have been cut up." 
 
 " Where is the regiment 1 " 
 
 " Bivouacked a few miles in front of Vittoria. None of the offi- 
 cers are killed, but some are wounded, — Cameron by the fall of his 
 horse, which wa.s killed by a twelve-pound shot, and Seaton had his 
 left arm shot through; but the moment it was dressed he rejoined, 
 and is probably now Avith his ' light bobs.' At the foot of the hills, 
 we lost a Serjeant and many men by the fire of the enemy's cannon, 
 but—" 
 
 " But we had our vengeance to the full," cried Campbell, brandish- 
 ing liis stick. " They have lost as much as was ever tint at Shirra- 
 muir. Forgetting the crown of Spain, only think, Stuart, my man, 
 — one hundred and fifty splendid pieces of ordnance, four hundred 
 caissons laden Anth Lord knows what, the plunder of all Spain, per- 
 haps ! some millions of musket-cartridges, the baggage of the army, 
 the mihtary-chest, colours and drums innumerable, and the baton or 
 Jourdan, which he dropped in his hurry or fright. But the military- 
 chest, by Jove ! had you seen how free the 18th Hussars made with 
 it, — every rascal of them stuffing his boots to the brim with gold Na- 
 poleons ! There will be a devil of a row kicked up about it at the 
 Horse-Guards, you may be sure of that. We have captured I know 
 ;>.ot how many carriages, every one full of the ladies of Joseph's 
 court : rare work we have had with them ! Alister, vdth twenty men, 
 gallantly stormed one vehicle at the point of the bayonet, and seized 
 four terrified young ladies — one of whom, I believe is the Countess 
 de Gazan, ^vife of the general of the same name." 
 
 " How horrified the poor creatures were !" said Macdonald. " One 
 train of court-carriages, in flying away at full gallop to escape Gra- 
 ham's division, which had intercepted their flight to Bayonne, came 
 among us, and were, of course, compelled to halt. But they were 
 treated with all due gallantry and honour." 
 
 "Especially by Blacier's riflemen, who dragged some ladies out 
 without ceremony, and rummaged them over like so many custom- 
 house officers ; and with their bayonets tore and ripped up the rick 
 Bilk lining of the carriages, in hopes of finding concealed jewellery." 
 
 " Germans are more proverbial for tiieir greed, than for devotion 
 
THE EOAIANCE OF WAE. 319 
 
 to the gentler sex. But Lord Wellin^'ton has de.sp J.chcd the ladies 
 away to the rear, among the prisoners taken in the battle." 
 
 " A knowing chield !" said the major. " Some of these French girls 
 are pretty enough to turn the hearts and heads of their captors. 
 Arthur knew that, and thought them safer en route for Belem, than 
 in the midst of his army. By my word ! 'tis a devil of a thing to 
 hear a sweet young girl, with bright black eyes, cherry lips, &c. etc., 
 imploring you in uiost dulcet French to spare her life, and all that. 
 What the deuce ! Some of these fair creatures to-day seemed to 
 think they liad got among an army of ghoules or ogres, instead of 
 honest British soldiers." 
 
 " I forgive their terror," answered Eonald. " Only imagine what 
 would be the feelings of British ladies, falling, as these did^ into the 
 hands of a foreign army, flushed and fierce with the excitement of 
 such a battle, the blood'and glory of such a victory !" 
 
 On entering the town of Vittoria, they found it filled with French 
 and British wounded ; and the numbers were increasing, as the 
 waggons went to and fro between the field and town, which soon be- 
 came converted into an hospital. Cries, groans, and thrilling excla- 
 mations of sulfering, ran^ from every house ; and men were lying in 
 ranks below the piazzas of the market-place, waiting till their wounds 
 could be looked to ; and in every street lay scores of weary and 
 maimed solchers, who, unable to proceed further, had sunk dovv^n. 
 bleeding and expiring, helpless as babes, without a hand to close their 
 eyes. 
 
 Stuart's wound was of too little importance to procure immediate 
 attendance, all the surgeons being hard at work, with their shirt 
 sleeves turned up, hewing off legs and arms mercilessly, as was their 
 will and pleasure in those days. On with the tourniquet, and off 
 with the limb, was the mode then ; any attempt to reduce a fracture 
 being considered a waste of time, and a style of cure troublesome 
 alike to patient and physician. After searching about for some time 
 to find a son of Esculapius unemployed, but without success, they 
 adjourned to a cafe immediately within the Santa Clara gate. 
 
 The large drinking-room was crowded with ofhcers, some of whom 
 had got their scars dressed, and, in defiance of the orders of el medico, 
 ■were quaffing horn after horn of the country wine, in honour of the 
 victory. Seaton, with his arm slung, was thus employed in one 
 corner with an officer of the 50th, whose head was wrapped in a 
 bloody handkerchief. Many others were in the same trim ; and the 
 conversation consisted of loud and boisterous observations and criti- 
 cisms on this and that movement — the advance of one division, the 
 retreat of another — promotion, brevet, thanks of jiarliament, a medal, 
 — and so on ; and all were lavish in their animadversions on the 18th 
 Hussars, for making so free with the military chest. Their observa- 
 tions were often mingled with loud and reckless military merrimentv 
 and an occasional hearty malediction on some wound which would 
 not cease bleeding, or an exclamation of pain afc the twinges it gave. 
 Many Spanish officers were sitting over chess-tables, absorbed in their 
 favourite national ^ame, forgetting altogether, in the interest which 
 it excited, the tattle so recently gained, and which Avas of so much 
 importance to the liberties of their country. But it has been truly 
 remarked by some one, that, give the Spaniard his cigar, his sunshine, 
 his querido, and amusements, and it is all one to him whether Spam 
 is ruled by a Solon or a Caligula. 
 
 T 2 
 
820 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 In another corner of the drinking-room, a Spanish colonel was 
 silling coolly with a napkin and bra.^s basin nnder his chin, under- 
 going the operation of being shaved by the senior surgeon of his 
 recriment, as it is, or was^ the duty of that ofiicer to take off the 
 colonel's beard every mornmg, or whenever required. So much for 
 the dignity of the medical profession in Spain. 
 
 Enveloped in a cloud of tobacco-smoke, ^vhich left no part of him 
 visible but his twinkling grey eyes and red snub nose, Captain 
 Elacier occupied the opposite corner, busy in preparing a luxurious 
 German dish, the ingredients for which he produced from the havre- 
 sack of glazed canvas which he carried with his blanket on his back. 
 A large tin trencher stood before him, and into it he was shredding 
 a cabbage, which he had picked up when skirmishing in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Salvatierra the preceding day ; and after sprinkling over 
 it pepper, salt vinegar, and garlic, he began to eat with infinite relish. 
 
 After getting his v/ound dressed by the Spanish medico and after 
 drinking a few horns of arjua y vino, Eonald procured a light forage- 
 cap in place of his heavy plumed bonnet, and accompanied by Seaton 
 and those who found him on the field, he set out for the regiment, 
 which, with Hill's whole division, lay bivouacked six miles in front of 
 Tittoria, where, after pursuing the French till past midnight, they had 
 halted. 
 
 On being accommodated with a horse, Eonald was enabled to ac- 
 company the troops, which moved next day to drive the enemy across 
 the Pyrenees. Acting with his usual promptitude, "Wellington 
 pushed onward with the third, fourth, and light di\isions to Parn- 
 peluna, whence the ex-king Joseph, with the greater part of his 
 shattered host, retired into France by the famous pass of Ixonces- 
 valles ; while the rest, under the command of General Grxzau, retired 
 by the vale of El Bastan. 
 
 Lord Wellington surrounded Pampeluna, which was yet held by a 
 French garrison ; and Graham, who Anth the left wing of the allies 
 had pursued the retreating enemy on the great road for France, came 
 np v;ith a corps near Tolosa, which he attacked and defeated, and 
 driving them across the Bidassoa, boldly invested the strong fortress 
 of San Sebastian, from the towers of which yet waved the tri-colour 
 and the standard of King Joseph. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 AN OUT-PICQUET ADVENTUEE. 
 
 To prevent the French from possessing themselves of the Maya 
 heights, Wellington directed the Earl of Dalhousie, with his division, 
 to threaten them by moving on San Estevan ; while Sir Eowland 
 Hill, with the first and three others of his brigades, made a similar 
 demonstration, by marching through the wild and romantic i)ass of 
 Lanz. 
 
 Along the whole line of march from Tittoria to the Pyrenees, a 
 distance of about one hundred miles, the roads were strewed with 
 dead or abandoned horses, broken v»"aggons, dilapidated carriages, 
 military caissons, and clothing of every kind ; uniforms of oflicers, 
 rich dresses^ laces, veils, and gloves of ladies, which were torn forth 
 
THE EOMAXCE OF WAE. S21 
 
 from mails and imperials by the rude hands of guoriUas and ca^adores, 
 and scattered about everywhere ; thousands of French commissariat 
 returns, bundles of bank-notes, and jiackets of letters, written to 
 many who then lay cold beneath the turf at Vittoria, were scattered 
 over the ground by which the French had retired. Many poor strag- 
 glers, disabled by wounds or starvation, fell into the hands of the 
 conqueror^, and with others many ladies of Josei)h's court, who on 
 escaping, when the carriages were taken by Graham's division, had 
 attempted to make their way to the Pyrenees by passing through 
 wild and unfrequented places. Many of these unfortunate creatures 
 fell into the power of the Spaniards, and were treated in a manner 
 too barbarous to relate ; and others were seen by the gentler British, 
 fainting, expiring, or dead by the way-side, bare-footed, almost naked, 
 a.nd reduced to the most pitiable condition. All who were found 
 alive were sent under an escort to the rear, to be placed among the 
 other prisoners. 
 
 'J'he great chain of the Pyrenees was now before the victors, and 
 on the ord of J uly, Hill, with his four brigades, began to ascend the 
 heights. After a harassing march through that deep gorge among 
 the mountains which takes its name from the town of Lanz, they 
 came in view of the out-picquets of General Gazan's corps, and 
 arrangements were made to drive them in forthwith. Led l3y Pas- 
 sifern,the first brigade moved through the most solitary passes of the 
 mountains by a village named Almandos, and took up a position on 
 the left of Gazan's outposts, upon Avhich Sir Rowland gave orders to 
 attack them in front. On finding that Cameron had turned their 
 flank so effectually, they retired, firing by the way, and reached their 
 main body at Barreta, where a sharp skirmish took place, in which 
 the Condd d'Amarante's Portuguese suffered considerably. 
 
 Next day Gazan retired precipitately through Elizondo, followed 
 by the Portuguese, who were eager to revenge the slaughter of their 
 comrades in the i^receding day's skirmish, and the troops resumed 
 their march towards the height of Maya. 
 
 "Cheerily now, Highlandmen !" cried Campbell, flourishing his 
 cudgel, as he spurred his horse past the heavily accoutred sections, 
 who were toiling up the mountains ; " hold cheerily on, my lads ! 
 Set a stout heart to a stey brae, — ye mind the old saying at home : 
 ye'll soon see the high road to Britain, the way we must all go, ere 
 we see the curl of our ain peat-reek." 
 
 A few hours' march brought them to the summits of the Pyrenees, 
 and afar oft' was seen the ocean, which they had not beheld for so 
 long. It was the way to their homes, and from a simultaneous feel- 
 ing, which inspired every man, three hearty cheers awoke the echoes 
 of the mountains ; caps and bonnets were tossed into the air, — the 
 bands struck up " Rule Britannia," and the pipers blew till their 
 faces grew purple and black. The brigades halted for a few minutes, 
 and a dead silence succeeded the first outbreak of their joy. Every 
 man's breast seemed swelling with emotions, which he found it im- 
 possible to communicate ; but he read in the faces of his comrades 
 the same joy which quickened the pulses of his own heart. The sea, 
 — the same deep-heaving sea which swept around the rocks and 
 shores of their own countrj-, now spread its broad bosom before them; 
 and long and wistfully they gazed on the white sails of the solitary; 
 British cruisers, which here and there dotted the dark-blue water.i 
 of the Bay of Biscay. The green ridges of the Lower Pyrenees, the 
 
S22 THE liOMAN'CE OF WAB. 
 
 fertile plains and wooded vjiles of FrancCj lay spread at their feet; 
 like a brightly-tinted map. Saint Jean de Luz, the famous and opu- 
 lent Bayonnc, and a thousand minor towiis and villages, were seen 
 from those lofty summits, now trod by British soldiers for the first 
 time. Behind them lay sunny Espana, through which they had 
 toiled and fought their way, and where many a comrade had found 
 his crave, — but no man looked to the rear. Every eye was turned 
 to the north, — on Prance, which lay below them. But stern and 
 bloody' work was awaiting them, and many a one whose heart then 
 bounded with thoughts of his native home, and with a thousand in- 
 expressible hopes, wishes, and fond anticipations, was doomed to find 
 his last resting-place on these very heights of Maya, 
 
 That night the troops bivouacked on the mountain-side, a league 
 in front or Elizondo. As it was generally his luck, after any march 
 •which had been particularly long and tiresome, Konald Stuart had 
 command of an advanced picquet, forming one of the chain thrown 
 out in the direction of Gazan's division, which had taken up a position 
 lower do'wn the mountains, "\nth the determination to dispute every 
 inch of ground that led to la belle France, — a resolution which the 
 Marquis of Wellington determined to put to the test next day. 
 Stuart's orders were to \isit his sentries every hour throughout the 
 night, to keep them on the alert ; a duty which proved very harass- 
 ing after so long a march, as it was almost impossible to sleep in the 
 short intervals between the rounds. However, fretting would not 
 have bettered the afiair, and rolling himself up in his cloak, he 
 resolved to make himself as comfortable as he possil^ly could, A 
 huge fire lighted by the soldiers lessened the cold, and counteracted 
 the eflects of a heavj^ wetting dew, which falls amid these mountains 
 at almost every season. , 
 
 After his ration of beef had been broiled on the embers, eaten 
 without salt off the end of a ramrod, and washed down ^nth a canteen- 
 ful of that rich cider, for the production of which the district around 
 Elizondo is so famous, after listening to the merry bells of the to^vn, 
 which were ringing in honour of the British, and after watching, 
 until he grew weary, the varjing eflects of light and shade, as the 
 red blaze of a dozen picquet fires glared on the beetling craigs, deep 
 seams and gorges, or green sides of the hills, he found it almost 
 impossible to resist the invasion of sleep. Even the miniature of 
 his dark-haired Alice failed to enliven him, and he envied the 
 privates of his party, who, having neither command nor responsibility, 
 slept soundly by the fire, with their knapsacks beneath their heads, 
 and their arms piled beside them. On consulting his watch to see 
 how the time went, he found that it was midnight, and that an hour 
 had elapsed since his last visit. As it was necessary to be attended 
 by some one, he avroke Evan, and desiring him to take his arms, 
 moved towards his sentinels, whom he had considerable trouble in 
 discovering, as the night was intensely dark. All was right, every 
 soldier was on the alert, and Ronald was returning with his follower 
 through the winding and rocky path towards the fire, which served 
 as a beacon to guide them to their post, and which they beheld 
 glimmering through the gloom some hundred yards off, when a 
 piercing cry rang through the still air, at a short distance from the 
 jjlace where they were. 
 
 "Hey, sir!" exclaimed Evan, beginning to unbuckle his pouch 
 Myhat can that be, in sic a wild place as this ? " 
 
THE KOMANCE OF WAE. 828 
 
 *' A woman's voice, I think." 
 
 " It cam frae the hill on the left o' the road,— I'm sure o't. Hech ! 
 it was an unco' cry." 
 
 " Pollow me," said his master, beginning quickly to ascend the 
 hill. 
 
 " Hech, sir ! dinna venture up the bank till we hear something 
 mair," said Evan cautiously, following promptly, nevertheless. 
 " My certie ! we kenna what folk may bide amang the holmes and 
 howes hereabout. At hame I have heard tell o' sic cries ringing al 
 this time, between the nicht and morning, and they were ay for ill, 
 and never for gude. Sae be advised, sir, and wait a wee." 
 
 " Evan ! " said Stuart, angrily, " are you afraid of men ? 
 
 " Ye ken I am no, sir ! " replied the Highlandman sharply. " I 
 would scorn to turn heel on sax o' the best that ever trod on heather. 
 Mair would, may be, be venturesome." 
 
 " Of bogles, then, — or spunkies, or what ? " The soldier was silent. 
 
 " Campaigning might have taught you to laugh at such ideas, 
 Evan." 
 
 " Gang on, sir " rephed the other sturdily ; " if auld Mahoud, wi' 
 horns^hoof, ana blazing een sat on the brae head, I'll follow ye ; but 
 auld Dugald, the cornel's man, tauld me an unco' story ca'd the 
 Iham-dearg, that gars me scunner at my ain shadow after nicht-fa'." 
 xVgain the cry rang loud and shrilly, and many others followed in 
 succession. 
 
 " There is no mistake now," cried Eonald, rushing up the hill 
 towards a light, which was seen twinkling through the darkness. 
 " It is the voice of a woman, — and she cries for help." Scrambling 
 .forward, among rocks and stunted trees, a few moments brought 
 them in front of a hut of the rudest and humblest construction. 
 The light shone through the open hole which served for a window, 
 and from this structure the cries, which had now died away, had 
 certainly proceeded. Before he entered, Ronald reconnoiterea the 
 interior through the loop-hole. Two shepherds, arrayed in the 
 coarse clothing made of the undyed wool of the mountain sheep, 
 sat smoking cigars and drinking at a rough wooden table, wliile they 
 coolly surveyed a ver>' singular scene. A young and very handsome 
 woman, a lady evidently by her form and airj although her dress was 
 torn and soiled, her white silk bonnet hanging in fritters, her hair 
 dishevelled, and her feet almost bare, struggling wildly with, and 
 exerting every energy to opi)ose, the brutahty of— whom ? Cifuentes ! 
 the diabolical Narvaez Cifuentes, who. like a bird of ill omen, seemed 
 doomed to cross the path of Ronald Stuart wherever he went, — and 
 even there, on the borders of Prance. He appeared the same 
 ferocious dog as ever, ■with his matted hair and scrub beard ; but his 
 aspect was now rendered hideous by a large scar on the cheek and 
 chin, «:aused probably by the random shot which Lord Dalhousie 
 had bestowed upon him at Vittoria. His musket, sabre, and pistols 
 lay upon the table. His stiletto he held to the white neck of the 
 sinking girl, and swore by every saint in the calendar that he would 
 plunge it into her heart if she did not cease her cries. Overcome mth 
 terror and exhaustion, she sunk upon her knees before him, when 
 Evan, applying his foot to the door, dashed it in, and Stuart rushing 
 forward, grasped Narvaez by the throaty hurled him to the earth, 
 before, in his own defence^ be could strike a blow with his weapon, 
 which Evan -wrested adroitly from his hand, and saying, with a grin. 
 
324 THE B05IANCE OF WAR. 
 
 that " it ^yad mak' a brave sJcene-dhu for his laitiier the piper," stuck 
 \t into his right garter. Fiercely did Cifuentes struggle M-ith his 
 tithletic assailant, who, although he planted a foot on his throat, 
 delayed, with a mistaken humanity, to bury his claymore in his 
 heart, — a display of mercy lionald had reason afterwards to repent 
 most bitterly. 
 
 The two herds started to their feet on beholding this unexpected 
 conflict, and the lady, in the extremity of her terror, flung her arms 
 around Stuart, and, grasping him convulsively, completely impeded 
 his motions. Of this circumstance his adversary did not fail to take 
 the utmost advantage. After several fruitless eflbrts, he escaped 
 from Konald's powerful grasp, and, eluding the bayonet of Evan, 
 who charged him breast-high, rushed from the cottage, and disap- 
 peared in the darkness with the speed of a hare. 
 
 Eonald's fury was now turned against the villanous shepherds, 
 whom, in the extremity of his anger, be threatened to put to death; 
 upon which they quitted their dwelling, and made a hasty retreat. 
 While Evan stood sentinel at the door, his master endeavoured to 
 calm and pacify the young lady, whom he found to be French— very 
 pretty, and very attractive. No sooner had her terror subsided, than 
 she returned him thanks and praises Avith such volubility in French 
 and English, that Ronald became almost abashed, and with some 
 reserve inquired her name. 
 
 " The Baroness de Clappourknuis." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! And how alone in such a place as this ? " 
 
 " Ah ! monsieur, you need scarcely ask. "When the royal carriages 
 were captured, on the road to Bayonne, I was one of the few who 
 etfected an escape from them. Oh, pity me ! monsieur officier, and 
 do not deliver me up to be sent a prisoner to England." 
 
 " jNIadame, what would you have me to do ? " 
 
 " Oh, anything you please, — that is, monsieur, conceal me but for a 
 day or so. General Gazan's troops are not far off, and my husband the 
 bai-on is with them. I may find means to rejoin him safely. I am 
 sure you will not treat me cruelly— your look is so gentle. But we 
 Frenchwomen have quite a terrible idea of you British soldiers, and 
 my fears have carried me thus far from the fatal plains of Vittoria. 
 Ah ! good sir, you may imagine, but I can never describe the terrors, 
 the miseries, the horror I have undergone while wandering so great 
 a distance, alone and unprotected, among these barbarous Spaniards. 
 And, O mori pieu ! when I had almost gained the shelter of Gazan's 
 lines, I fell into the power of that fearful creature, from whose 
 savage treatment* you have so bravely rescued me." 
 
 " Where did you meet with him, madame ? " 
 
 "Wandering in the pass of Lanz, — for I was compelled t-o seek the 
 most unfrequented paths. Clad in the habit of some of the religieux 
 of this country, he met me, I had nothing to fear from one who 
 wore the garb of peace. I confided in him : he offered to become my 
 guide, and led me hither. You know the rest. Ah, monsieur T 
 complete your kindness, I beseech you, and see me in safety to the 
 French outposts ! " 
 
 "What you ask of me, madame, I cannot perform, and I say so 
 with regret. "Tis three miles from this to the enemy's position. I 
 cannot escort you myself, being on a particular duty, and I have not 
 the means of sending you thither ; yet, believe me, for the sake of 
 poor D'Estouville's first love I would do much." 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 32& 
 
 This wavS said in a tone of feeling, slightly mingled with reproach^ 
 and the colour of the lady came and Aveut while she gazed on lionala 
 with a look of considerable surprise. 
 
 " Monsieur," said she, after a pause, " did you know Major 
 d'Estouville ? " 
 
 " Intimately, although a frenchman and an enemy. I beheld him 
 die." 
 
 " At Merida ? " Her lip quivered. 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " Poor Victor ! " said the baroness thoughtfully. 
 
 " The last words he uttered were your name, — Diane de Mont- 
 michel. He expired in great agony, on a bed of straw, stretched on 
 the cold pavement of an ancient chapel." 
 
 " Merci ! Ah, monsieur ! do not, do not tell me any more of this ! " 
 said she, covering her face with her hands, — which, I may observe, 
 were very small and beautifully formed, — and beginning to weep and 
 sob. " I dare not think of Victor now, — now when the wedded wife 
 of another ! To do so would be a sin, even although he is dead." 
 
 "D'Estouville told me his story. He loved you very truly, 
 madame." 
 
 " I know that. You Avill certainly think me very cruel in desert- 
 ing him, but Heaven knows I did not do so wilfully ; T Ava:? not 
 entirely to blame. At Lillebonne we understood that he had been 
 killed; and long I wept and sorrowed for him, and protested that,, 
 imtil death, I would remain unwedded for his sake. Monsieur le 
 Baron made proposals for my hand, and it was given liim by my 
 parent even before my consent Avas obtained. Terror, sorroAv, and 
 domestic persecution did the rest, and I became the bride of the neAv 
 suitor, Avho indeed loves me very dearly, and I have every reason to 
 be grateful to him. A coronet is a gay and attractive thing ; yet 
 think not, monsieur, that I have ibrgotten poor Victor, though I 
 struggle Avith my heart to teach it the duty it OAves the baron. 
 One cannot have two loves for one heart," she added, sobbing and. 
 blushing. 
 
 " Well, madame," said Stuart, anxious to end her embarrassment, 
 "some arrangement must be made. Eirst let us leave this 
 place." 
 
 " Eh Men ! " said the lady joyfully ; and beginning to bustle about, 
 she put her dilapidated dress in some order. " But," added she, 
 shrugQ^ng her shoulders, " for AA'here, monsieur ? " 
 
 " With your permission, madame, to my picquet at the foot of the 
 hill, in the first place," repUed Stuart, consulting his Avatch. " I have 
 been absent nearly an hour. Hah ! there will be the devil to pay 
 should I be missed." 
 
 ''Ay Avill there, sir," said Evan, Avho had leaned his chin upon the 
 muzzle of his piece, and " gloAvered" Avith considerable surprise 
 during the sudden and animated conversation which his master had 
 carried on so glibly Avitli the strange lady. "■ I hae been keepin' mv 
 lug to the wind, to hearken if ony soonds cam up the brae, but then^ 
 has been naething asteer as yet. Ye hae nae been missed ; but, gude 
 save us, sir, let's awa before Avaur comes o't ! Fassifern ' the chiet ' 
 himsel's on duty ; and whan he gangs the round, a bonnie kick up 
 there aaHI be gin ye're no at your post ; and ye ken the cornel is 
 waur than the deil to Avarsle Avi'." Stuart kncAV that this Avas good 
 and sound advice, however homely its delivery ; and he prepared to 
 
82G THE EOMAXCE OF WAR. 
 
 rejoin his picquet, before Cameron, ■\vlio was field-ofliccr on duty 
 mi:J:lit visit it. 
 
 iiy pinning up here and there, tuckinfj up one thing and letting 
 out another, the lady -wrought away raj^idly with her neat aud 
 nunble little hands, working as only a Frenchwoman could have 
 done, and in three minutes, her travel-stained aud disordered attire 
 was nicely and very passably arranged. Konald oflered his assistance, 
 but the lady dispensed with it, thanking him \nth a smile, and saying 
 he " could not be a very adroit /(??«me de chamhre." The glossy locks 
 ■were smoothly placed over her white forehead, and the crushed 
 "bonnet had almost resumed its true Parisian shape. Its draggled 
 feathers were cast aside, but the rich white veil she disposed grace- 
 fully over the front ; and, looking at Stuart with a glance of mingled 
 archness, coquetry, and timidity, observed that she was " attired 
 somewhat more d la mode^' and took his profiered arm. 
 
 "Ah, monsieur!" said she, "once more I entreat you, do not 
 deliver me up as a prisoner to be sent to England, — that horrid place \" 
 
 " Not if 1 can help it, — I pledge you my word of honour. In 
 transferring you to the French lines, i incur considerable risk; but 
 as the distance is so short, I will see if it can possibly be done before 
 day breaks." 
 
 He threw his ample cloak around her, and giving strict injunctions 
 to Evan not to acquaint his comrades who the lady was, began to 
 descend the hill as quickly as the trembling steps of the latter would 
 permit along such a dark and rugged path. Before leaving the hut, 
 Evan took care to break and destroy all the offensive weapons it con- 
 tained, saying as he did so, "that fules and bairns shudna hae chappin' 
 sticks." He proposed to set the hut in a " bleeze," to light their way 
 doAvn the hill, but his master at once objected. The darkness re- 
 newed the terrors of the young lady. 
 
 " Is the way long, monsieur ? " asked she, in a faltering tone. 
 
 " O no, — quite near. You see the picquet-fire yonder. Ah, ma- 
 dame ! how fortunate I am in having come so opportunely to your 
 rescue." 
 
 " Oh ! I shall never forget you in my prayers, — never, monsieur." 
 
 " But why are you trembhng so much ? Surely you are not afraid 
 of me ?" 
 
 " O no ! your behaviour is too cavalier-like and gentle for that ; and 
 we have become quite like very old friends in half an hour's time." 
 
 " Do you fear the darkness, then ?" 
 
 " Mo7i dieu ! Ah ! the darkness is nothing new to me. Alas ! " 
 rephed she, shrugging her shoulders, " since the field of Yittoria I 
 have passed every night in dark and lonely places ; and I wonder now 
 how one so timid, and so delicately nurtured, has not sunk under all 
 the fears and privations I have undergone for some days and nights 
 past." The lady started. At that moment the voice of a sentinel 
 was heard to give the usual challenge. 
 
 " AVho comes, there ?" 
 
 " E-ounds ! " ans\\-ered the bold voice of Fassifern, and the tramp 
 of his horse's hoofs rang on the roadway between the mountains. 
 
 " Stand, rounds ! " replied the sentry, porting his musket, and so 
 on ; v» ith the usual ceremon}', the parole and countersign were given 
 »nd received. 
 
 " Excuse me, madame, but for a minute," said Stuart. " I am just 
 in time; an instant later, and I should have been missed." Leaving 
 
 I 
 
THK EOilANCE OF WAR. 327 
 
 • 
 
 the side of tho trembling iady, he bustled about, and got his picquet 
 undei* arras. 
 
 On the depart uro of Fassifem, uhose movements the baroness had 
 ■watched with no ordinary feelings of caution and fear, Evan uas 
 despatched for Macdonald, -VAhom he found enjoying himself ^nth 
 gome other otlicers at a wine-house in Elizondo. He came promptly 
 enough, and A\as not a little surprised -when E-onald requested as a 
 favour, that he would escort a young lady to within sight of the 
 French lines, explaining at the same time, in as few words as possible, 
 her story and the nature of her situation. 
 
 Alister at once accepted the honour of being her convoy. " But," 
 said he, looking into the gloom which surrounded them, " the route 
 is confoundedly dreary across the mountains to the rock of Maya, — 
 Gazan's post." 
 
 " I am perfectly aware of it," replied Stuart, wth an air of pique. 
 " 'Tis impossible the baroness can go alone, and gallantry requires 
 us to set Wellington's orders at defiance for once, and not deliver her 
 up. I would have escorted her myself, but cannot leave my picquet." 
 
 " Monsieur," said the baroness, " I am indeed sorry to trouble you ; 
 but surely you do not complain of the duty — " 
 
 " Oh^ no ! impossible, madame," exclaimed Alister, the blood 
 mountmg to his -handsome features at the idea, while, gracefully 
 raising his bonnet, he observed her fair face by the red light of the 
 fire. " But vrill you intrust yourself to the guidance of one who is 
 entirely a stranger, through a road so dark and dangerous?" 
 
 " I have no alternative, alas !" said she, bending her bright eyes 
 into the gloom, as if she strove to pierce _ the depths beyond. She 
 shuddered. " 'Tis very dark, indeed, messieurs. I have no alterna- 
 tive but to go, or to remain and be sent a captive to Britain. Mon- 
 sieur, I will go with you. I will depend on the untarnished honour 
 of a British officer, that I shall be conveyed in safety to Gazan's 
 sentinels at the rock of Maya." 
 
 " ^Madame, you do me an honour never to be forgotten," answered 
 Macdonald, with a bow profound enough for any "puffing senor" of 
 Old Castile, Avhile the lady took his arm. 
 
 " Lend me your dirk, Stuart. I left mine at the wine caza" said 
 Alister, adjusting his belt and putting his basket-hilt free of plaid, 
 sash, tassels, &:c. " It is as well to be prepared for any sudden attack, 
 and the baroness must be my warrant that I am not made a prisoner 
 of by some of Gazan's scouts or sharpshooters. So then, good bye, 
 Stuart ; I mil come brattling up the brae iu an hour or so." 
 
 The lady kissed her hand to Stuart and departed ^vith Ivlacdonald, 
 feeling a confidence and assurance of safety which probably no 
 British lady would have felt, if intrusted to the charge of a foreign or 
 under the same peculiar cn^cumstances. 
 
 "And this is Diane de IMontmichel, the false love of poor Victor 
 d'Estouville," thought lionaldj as her light figure disapi^eared in the 
 darkness. "Well, I believe, if all the tales his friend i)e Mesmai 
 told me were true, one cannot look for much faith in French women !" 
 
 For INIacdonald's return he waited vnXh considerable anxiety, which 
 increased when the time by which he expected him passed away 
 without his appearing, and day began to dawn on the Maya heights. 
 He could not help dreading that Alister had not been wary enough, 
 and had been captured by the IVench advanced sentinels. If so, the 
 .escape of the baroness would come to light, and he feared the Mar- 
 
828 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 quis of Wellington would make a deuced unpleasant row a])out it. 
 He also remembered Narvacz Cifuentes, whom for some time he had 
 forgotten, and sni)posed that his friend might have latally encoun- 
 tered this savage bandit and some of his com])anions. 
 
 The morning had now dawned, but the valleys between Elizondo 
 and the rock of ^laya, and even the summits of the Lower Pyrenees, 
 were still almost involved in darkness. Shaking the dew fi*om their 
 booming wings, the eagles were soaring through the blue sky from 
 their eyries among the cliils, and the morning breeze, as it swept 
 along the mountain sides, bore with it the delightful perfume of the 
 aromatic plants and little shrubs which flourish so plentifully in all 
 waste places throughout Spain. Prom the dying embers of the 
 picquet-fire a pulf of smoke curled now and then on the pure air, 
 but scarcely a sound woke the echoes of the place, save the proud 
 and steady tread of the sentries as they strode to and fro on their 
 posts. 
 
 Beyond the advanced chain of the latter, E,onald wandered far in 
 search of Macdonald, and to await his return seated himself upon a 
 fragment of rock, and watched attentively the long valley which lay 
 between him and the Lower or French PjTenees, varying this em- 
 ployment, by holloaing to the eagles as he used to do at home, or by 
 liurUng stones at the glossy black ravens as they screamed aloud, 
 flapping their wings, and from the rocks of the surrounding wilder- 
 ness stared at him as an intruder upon their solitude. The voice of 
 some one singing a Gaelic song, — 
 
 " Cha teid mis a c/inoidh,*'* 
 
 caused him to spring to his feet. 
 
 " Holloa, Alister ! Is that you, my man ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Macdonald, springing up the rocks to where Eouald 
 sat, and leaping to his side with the activity of a deer ; " but you 
 nearly made an end of me a dozen times. Every minute you sent a 
 large rock sousing down the ravine upon my very path. Did you 
 not hear me shout ? Why, man, you have but half the ear of a 
 Highland forester ! I hope I am in time for the marquis's arrival ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but what a devilish long time you have been ! Madame the 
 baroness and her squire were certainly in no hurry to reach the rock 
 of Maya." 
 
 " Why no ; to tell you the truth," replied Macdonald, laughing as 
 
 heartily as his lack of breath would permit him, " we consulted our 
 
 own convenience and pleasure, and it has been the most agreeable 
 
 night, or rather morning, march since I first saw the spires of Lisbon." 
 
 So I suppose. But did you escape the Prench sentries ?" 
 
 " How would I have been here else, Ilonald ? They are posted at 
 the foot of the rock of Maya, and must have been blind if they did 
 not see me. I led the young lady within a hundred yards of them, 
 and there bade her tenderly adieu." 
 
 " She thanked you, of course ? " 
 
 " By so delightful a salute, that I began to persuade her to return 
 with me ; but she placed her little hand upon my mouth, and, as the 
 novels say, vanished from my sight, — in other words, crossed the 
 enemy's lines : so now, I suppose, she is in the arms of monsieur the 
 baron, or as he would be more appropriately styled, Joclc Law, laird 
 
 * I -will never go with him. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 329 
 
 fjf the Clapperknowes. What a pity 'tis that so sweet a girl should 
 be the wile of that gruff old humbug ! Hah ! there go the pipes ! " 
 
 " Wellington has come ! " 
 
 The out-picquets rejoined their several brigades, which in a few 
 minutes were in motion, and marched from Elizondo with their 
 bands playing, and entered among the mountains towards that part 
 of Maya where General Gazan's corps were in position. In the fore- 
 noon they came in sight of the enemy, when Sir Rowland Hill halted, 
 and Wellington, attended by a single aide-de-camp, rode forward to 
 reconnoitre, llonald Stuart had now, for the first time, an oppor- 
 tunity of i)articularly observing that great leader, of whom the world 
 then heard, and were yet to hear, so much. 
 
 He was mounted on a sUght but stout crop -tailed horse, without 
 trappings ; a pair of plain holsters were at his saddle bow, and a 
 short sabre hung from his belt. The exceeding plainness of his 
 attire — a coarse blue cloak, and weather-beaten cocked-hat, totally 
 destitute of ornament — contrasted strongly with the richly-laced 
 jacket and pelisse of his aide, an officer of the 10th Hussars, that 
 regiment of exquisite celebrity. Wellington gave a keen but hasty 
 glance along the ranks of the bronzed Highlanders as he rode past, 
 and then bent his sharp eyes on the heights, where the dark columns 
 of French infantry appeared in position, their long lines of serried 
 ^irms glancing as usual in the sun. Por about three minutes the 
 marquis carefully made a reconnoissance of the foe through his tele- 
 scope, and then issued his orders. 
 
 "Sir William!" said he. 
 
 General Stuart, a fine old soldier, with hair white as snow, a 
 bronzed visage, and a purple coat adorned with a black aigulet, rode 
 up, and touched his coarse cocked-hat of glazed leather. 
 
 " With the second brigade you will cross the Bidassoa, by the path- 
 way leading from Elizondo, and ascending the mountains, turn the 
 enemy's right. You will carry the rock of Maya at the point of the 
 bayonet.^ 
 
 " It shall be done, my lord," replied Stuart, confidently, as he drove 
 spurs into his horse and galloped back to the second brigade ; while 
 Sir Rowland with the marquis ascended to an eminence, to observe 
 the operations and success of this movement. While Stuart with 
 his troops moved off and disappeared among the rocks and orchards 
 of Elizondo, the other brigades remained under arms, and found with 
 considerable chagrin, that their part of the game was not yet come. 
 After remaining for some time, — an hour, perhaps — watching atten- 
 tively the Erench lines, the sound of distant firing, and the appear- 
 ance of smoke curling along the hill-sides, announced that the gallant 
 Stuart had commenced the attack. Every ear and every eye were 
 all attention. The fire became closer and more rapid ; a cheer was 
 heard, and in ten minutes the whole second brigade, consisting of 
 the brave " Old Buffs," the 31st, the 57th, and GCth English regiments, 
 were seen rushing up the hill inider a close and destructive shower 
 of shot, which they heeded less than if it had been a shower of rain, 
 although it thinned their numbers deplorably. Eorward they went 
 with the bayonet, and the right wing of the French melted away 
 before them. 
 
 The position was turned, and the cheers of the victors were echoed 
 by their comrades below, whose blood was fiercely roused by the sound 
 of the conflict 
 
880 THE ROJJA.NrE OF WAR. 
 
 "Tbt-y nave done well," said AVellington. "Forward! the iigh* 
 troops." 
 
 Tho command was obeyed with promptitude. The Gth Ca(;adores, 
 the 71st IIi2;hhindcrs, and all the light companies, moved oil' double 
 quick, and the ravines amonp: the hills rang with the clank of accou- 
 trements and the tramp of their feet. These auxiharies scrambled 
 directly up tlie face of the hill, and the oOth regiment, moving to the 
 front, opened a deadly fire on Gazan's left, while his troops were 
 making inelfectual attempts to recover the heights on their right. 
 
 Exposed thus to a fire on their flanks, and galled in front by a 
 cloud of sharpshooters, who were scattered among the rocks and 
 bushes— bolting up every instant to fire, and then ducking down to 
 reload — the Prench began to retreat down the hills towards France, 
 but slowly, and keeping up their fire with gallant yet singular deter- 
 mination. 
 
 The coolness displayed by the light infantry in this skirmish was 
 truly astonishing. To them it appeared like ordinary shooting— a 
 mere amusement. The Highlanders and the caqadores were seen 
 scampering hither and thither, leaping from rock to rock, firing and 
 kneeling, or throwing themselves flat on the earth, laughing and 
 jesting in a manner which none but those who have been eye-wit- 
 nesses of such an affair can imagine. Even the deep groan, the 
 sudden shriek of anguish, as some comrade, when struck by a French 
 bullet, tossed aside his musket, and heavily fell prone on the earth, 
 wallo^^ing in his blood, did not cool or restrain them ; and thus they 
 continued to advance for several miles, strewing the ground with 
 dead, and peppering the rething foe from every available point. 
 
 Gazan threw out a body of chasseurs to cover the retreat of his 
 forces down the mountains, and with them an irregular fight was 
 maintained the whole day. Night scarcely put an end to the con- 
 test, and allowed the jaded French to find a shelter in their own 
 country. The night was excessively dark, and yet the firing con- 
 tinued for nearly two hours after the gloom had fairly set in, and 
 only ceased when friends became confounded with foes. Seaton 
 narrowly escaped being bayoneted by two of his own favourite light- 
 bobs. Several of the French went the wrong way in the dark, and, 
 falhng among the British, were captured and sent to the rear. The 
 effect of the midnight firing was peculiarly fine, in such a wild 
 wilderness as the Pyrenees. Several thousand muskets flashing in- 
 cessantly through the gloom, and wakening the myriad echoes of 
 the mountains and gorges, presented a very singular sight, the plea- 
 sure of viemng which was considerably lessened by the continual 
 whistling of shot; until the bugles on both sides called in the 
 stragglers, and the Eritish, giving one hearty cheer of triumph and 
 defiance, withdrew to their main body. 
 
 The lines of the latter were now established along the heights of 
 Maya. The whole of the mountains were enveloped in a dense fog ; 
 a trernendous storm of rain succeeded, but the troops, the unhappy 
 out-picquets excepted, were snug under canvas. But there were 
 exposed the hundreds of killed and wounded, who could neither be 
 sought nor attended to then, and who lay scattered over miles of 
 contested ground, under all the fury of the pitiless elements. For 
 the dead it mattered not ; but many of the wounded expired during, 
 the raging of the storm, which accelerated their end. 
 .. Seated in his tent, on the sloping sides of which the rain was rush 
 
THE EOMA^"CIi: OF WAE. 3S2 
 
 ing down, Stuart wrote letters for Inchavon-house and Loclii?la. Ha 
 found their composition no easy task, as the candle, which was stuck 
 in a bottle, flickered in the wind, and sputtered with the rain-drops 
 which oozed through the canvass sides of his bell-shaped covering. 
 He held out hopes of his speedy return, — but he had often done so 
 before; for every new victory was deemed by the troops a precursor 
 of peace, and of return to their native homes. * * * * 
 
 Having now gained the important heights of IVlaya, Lord "Welling- 
 ton retired to join another part of his army. The celebrated pass 
 was left to the care of Fassifern with the first brigade, which en- 
 camped on the very summit of the hills, where the high road from 
 the fertile vale of El Bastan descends to France. 
 
 The second brigade was posted in a valley to the right, and the 
 Portuguese of the Conde d'Amarante occupied a mountain in front 
 of the hamlet of Erraza, where a brigade of the same nation was 
 quartered, under the command of Colonel Ashworth. The 82nd 
 (rrince of Wales's Volunteers) occupied another part of the hills, 
 about two miles off ; and to these troops was left the defence of the 
 pass of Maya, for which they were to fight to the last gasp, — orders 
 which, when the time came, were faithfully and nobly performed. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 PASS OF MAYA.— PTEENEES. 
 
 A MONTH elapsed without the sound of a shot oeing heard, and 
 the troops at the passes of Maya and Eoncesvalles lay quietly en- 
 camped and unmolested amidst the fine scenery of the Pyrenees. 
 The weather was now remarkably agi-eeable, and the officers pro- 
 cured plenty of ^vine from Elizondo and other Navarese towns in 
 their rear, and they were beginning to be as comfortable as it is 
 possible for troops to be under canvass. But a cloud was gathering 
 in the valleys of Gascony below them. 
 
 The great victory at "V ittoria, and the important events which fol- 
 lowed it, had not failed deeply to interest and concern Napoleon, to 
 rouse his "^>Tath and to wound his pride. That object for which he 
 had shed so much French blood was now completely wrested from 
 his grasp, and France herself remained in imminent peril while the 
 armies of the conqueror hovered on the mountains which overlooked 
 their territories. Fresh conscriptions were levied, and again France, 
 in her folly, poured forth another army, which directed its march to 
 the Pyrenees, to fight the battles of the insatiable Bonaparte. Soult 
 was recalled from Germany to place himself at its head, as the 
 " Lieutenant of the Emperor." Joining the French army on the 
 13th of July, 1813, he commenced re-organizing and preparing for n 
 second invasion ot Spain, with an energy and activity which restored 
 the confidence, and roused, as usual, the arrogance of the French 
 troops, who commenced their march with the intention of driving 
 the allies beyond the Ebro, and celebrating the birthday of the great 
 Emperor at Vittoria. 
 
 At that time Lord Wellington's responsibilities and difficulties 
 were not of a slight nature, having to cover the siege of two strong 
 fortrest'O-s and detend the wide space between them, which compelled 
 
S32 THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 him to extend and Avcaken his line. His skill was evinced in tk^ 
 distribution of his army, which he i)Cisted in the best manner likely 
 to del'cnd etrectually the passes of the Pyrenees, and to cover the 
 investments cf San Sebastian and Pampeluna. 
 
 To ellect the relief of the latter was the first grand object of the 
 l)uke of Dalmatia. From St. Jean Pied-de-Port, on the morning of 
 Sunday, the 25th July, he marched thirty-live thousand men against 
 the troops of General Byng, occupying the pass of Eoncesvalles, 
 which post they completely turned in the afternoon, after a most 
 desperate conflict, from which the general and Sir Lowry Cole, who 
 had moved up to his support, were compelled to retire. 
 
 On the saine day Gteneral Drouet led thirteen thousand men 
 against the right of Hill's position, — Cameron's command at the 
 Maya pass, which he had orders to force, as the Highlander had to 
 defend it, — at all hazards. At the time the attack was made, no 
 movement was expected, yet Drouet found the British not altogether 
 unprepared for such an event. It was a beautiful Sunday, and the 
 heat, even on the summits of the Pyrenees, v.as intense. As it was 
 not supposed that the enemy were near, the tents were all standing, 
 just as they had been for a month before ; and the camp and baggage- 
 mules were miles away down on the Spanish side, whither they were 
 usually taken for grass. 
 
 Stuart on that morning ha i wandered from the encampment to 
 some distance, where he was t ijoying the appearance of solitude, so 
 like that of his " Highland hom< •" which reigned far and wide around 
 him. The vast hills rose on every side, heaving their green summits 
 to the sky. A death-like stillness prevailed, save when now and then 
 broken by the scream of a wild bird, the hollow flap of a partridge's 
 wing, or the faint and far-off" tinkle of a mountain rill murmuring 
 through some solitary gorge, leaping from rock to rock as it de- 
 scended to the bright plains of Gascony or Beam. Por nearly an 
 hour he had wandered about there, when his solitary reveries were 
 broken by the sound of a distant shot, the echoes of which rang 
 among the splintered rocks and grassy peaks, recalling him at once 
 to the present ; and he hurried away to the camp, where the brigade 
 was getting under arms, the soldiers mustering with their usual 
 rapidity and coolness, without betraying the least surprise or confu- 
 sion. Prom an out-picquet the word had been passed that the Prench 
 " were in motion in front," and the fixing of fresh flints, snapping of 
 locks, unrolling and examining of ammunition, gave token of every 
 preparation being made to receive them ^^'ith due honour. Nearly 
 an hour elapsed, and no more was seen or heard of the foe. All began 
 to suppose it a false alarm, and many of the officers went forward to 
 the outposts to reconnoitre. 
 
 " Where are the enemy now, Armstrong ?" asked Cameron of an 
 officer of the 71st, commanding the picquet which had given the 
 alarm. " In whicli direction did you see them ?" 
 
 " Directly north, and far down on the Prench side," replied the 
 other, pointing Avith his sword ; " Ave distinctly saw a strong party 
 pass yonder defile between the mountains : the glitter of their arms 
 was apparent to us all.^' 
 
 " I'm afraid their feet were cloven," observed Seaton. " I see no- 
 thing but a herd of cattle crossing the defile you speak of." 
 
 " Horned nowte. just black short-legged Argyleshires," said Dugald, 
 who, as usual was close to Cameron's skirts "I see them plain 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 338 
 
 aneucli mysel, sirs ; but the loons may be araang the hills for a' that." 
 A loud laugh arose at the old man's observations. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said Armstrong, while his cheek reddened with 
 dinger, and he cast a furious glance on Dugald Mhor, " you are all at 
 liberty to think as you i)lease ; but I tell you that there are cattle 
 among the hills carrying bayonets on their horns, and that such is 
 the fact some here may learn to their cost, ere long." 
 
 " What fire the borderer displays," said Ronald, as Armstrong left 
 the group abruptly ; " and here is Alister his sub, quite fierce likewise 
 about the matter." 
 
 "Search round," chimed in Campbell, in the same tone of jest; 
 " search about, and probably we shall find the pig-skin at the bottom 
 of which they saw the enemy. I remember once in Egypt, that old 
 Ludovick Lisle — " 
 
 "What mean you, gentlemen?" said Macdonald, angrily: "do 
 you take us for fools ? I believe we have seen the enemy often 
 enough to know them." 
 
 " Halt, Macdonald ; you take our jests far too seriously," said 
 Stuart. " If you saw the French, where are they now ?" 
 
 "In front !" was the tart reply. 
 
 " They have been so, down in Gascony, for this month past." 
 
 " By all eternity ! 'tis something new for me to have assertions 
 doubted thus," replied Macdonald, considerably rufiled, yet loath to 
 have high words with his old friend ; and adding, " I will make no 
 further explanations," he turned and left them, foUouing Arm- 
 strong, who was reconnoitering intently through a telescope. While 
 Stuart's cheek grew red with anger at the contemptuous maimer in 
 which Macdonald took leave of him, his sleeve was plucked by old 
 Dusald Cameron. . 
 
 "JDinna speak to him juist the noo," Avhispered that aged retainer 
 solemnly ; " his birse is up, and it is an ill thing to warsle wi' a Mac- 
 donald at sic a time. Dinna gloom wi' liet faces at ane anither, for I 
 tell you one will no behauld the ither lang, sae turn not the back o' 
 your hand upon him ; he may be mixed wi' the mools ere the hills 
 grow dark wi' the gloaming, or redden again in the morning sun." 
 
 " AVliat do you mean, Dugald ? " asked Stuart, surprised at the 
 Highlander's manner. 
 
 " Sir, I am farer seen than niaist folk, and so was my faither before 
 me. Baith loud and lang did you and Macdonald laugh ower your 
 ■^vine in the cornel's tent last nicht, and every laugh o' the puir lad 
 gaed to my heart. I kent by its hollow ringing he wasfe//." 
 
 " Fey ? " replied the other, respect for Dugald's white haffets alone 
 restraining a violent inclination to laugh ; " fey, Dugald ? How ?" 
 
 " Loud laughter, I mean laughter such as his, aye portends sudden 
 death. Ony cailloch that ever wore a mutch, or ony giglet o' a lassie 
 that ever Avore a snood, will tell ye the same thing, sir. Sae dinna 
 gu'n at or be thrawn gebbit wi' young Inchkenneth, for he'll no be 
 lang amang us. Mony heads will there be on the heather ere the 
 sun gaes doon." Dugald moved off, lea\ing Stuart considerably sur- 
 prised at his superstition. At that moment Alister rushed towards 
 them, with his bonnet in his hand, 
 
 " Look ye now, gentlemen," ho exclaimed, tossing his long feathers 
 in the direction of the ^nnding way which led to France, " what csdJ 
 you these?" 
 
 Even while he spoke, a dense column of French infantry appeared 
 
 z 
 
331 TUB BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 in the defile between the mountains ; and a cloud of others, batta- 
 lion iirter battalion, ^^'ith their tricolours fluttering in the breeze, 
 advanced in succession, until thirteen thousand bayonets were 
 gleaming in the light of the noonday sun. It was the whole of 
 General Drouet's division. 
 
 " There is nae heather here, but I thocht and I said there would 
 DC mony a head on the green swaird ere the hills grew mirk in the 
 gloaming " muttered Dugald ominously, as he viewed the advance of 
 the French with kindhng eyes. With the first blast of the bugle the 
 troops were again under arms, and marched to the front of the pass 
 to stem the approaching torrent ; and, resolute as the soldiers were, 
 they knew that the attempt to kee]) their position against such an 
 overwhelming power was vain, unless Lord AVeilington, who w^as 
 distant at San Sebastian, could by some means succour them. But 
 obedience is the ffrst duty of the soldier, and their orders were to 
 defend the passes and fight to the last,— orders never yet mistaken 
 by British troops. 
 
 The out-picquets first opened their fire upon the advancing masses, 
 and although seconded by a body of light troops, were forced or 
 course to give way. The 2Sth and 30th regiments, from AVilson's 
 brigade, moved otf to support the picquets on the right. With 
 courage and resolution unparalleled, these corps sustained the onset 
 of their opponents, whose tremendous fire however compelled theiu 
 to waver and recoil. The 34th or Cumberland regiment, with the 
 50th, came to their assistance. These last, forming a junction, rushed 
 upon the French while exposed to the deadly fire of their extended 
 front, and A^ith unexampled intrepidity charged them "with the 
 bayonet, giving a check to their progress up the mountains. The 
 French returned the charge, but at the same time made a flank 
 movement, which their great numbers enabled them to do easily, to 
 surround and cut off their rash assailants, v/ho were at once placed 
 in a critical position. 
 
 It was at that moment that Cameron brought up his Highlanders, 
 and restored confidence to the regiments which had been falling into 
 confusion. It is impossible to describe the scene which the Maya 
 heights presented at that time. The deafening roar of the musketry, 
 — the driving clouds of smoke, — the tumultuous yells of the French, 
 veho were fierce, wild, and eager to wash away in British blood the 
 disgraces of Vittoria, almost confounded those who were then for the 
 first time under fire. The advancing enemy continued to shout more 
 like savages than Europeaii soldiers, but their tremendous shower 
 of shot was fast mowing down the little band which so gallantly 
 endeavoured to resist them. Like a hail-shower the heavy leaden 
 bullets were falling everywhere, and tearing up the turf even after 
 they had passed through the bodies of the soldiers, — so close had the 
 contending parties now come together. 
 
 The British had stood firm without flinching an inch; but the 
 French, "who were now fighting in a great disorganized mob, had 
 continued to advance, by the rear men pushing on the front, until 
 within thirty paces of the British line ; and at so short a distance it 
 may easily be supposed that the shot on both sides told with fearful 
 effect, especially among the dense masses of the French, before 
 whom, in five minutes, arose a pile of their o^TO dead and wounded 
 like a breast- work. Beyond this ghastly line they would not advance- 
 an inch, nor could they be prevailed upon to do so, even by the- 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAil. 336 
 
 most strenuous exertions of their officers, avIio, \vliene\'er tlic smoke 
 cleared away a little, were observed brandishing their sabies, -wavmg 
 their colours and eaj^les, and enthusiastically crying, " Vive la 
 France! Vive VJEmpereur ! Tlve la Gloire!" Uut their soldiers 
 heeded them not, and continued to load and fire with the utmost 
 sanri froid, but would not be led to the cliarge. 
 
 The brave 71st Highland Light infantry, after fighting with their 
 usual obstinacy and intrei)idity, had been compelled to give way, by 
 which three Portuguese pieces of cannon fell into the possession of 
 the Prench. To recapture these, a desperate attempt was made by 
 Lieutenant Armstrong, who, at the head of eight private soldiers, as 
 brave and as rash as himself, rushed furiously on the enemy. With 
 his sword in one hand and his bonnet in the other, the gallant 
 Borderer was seen amidst the smoke leading them on ; but all 
 perished under the leaden shower, within a few feet of the Prench 
 bayonets. After being reduced to half its number of officers and 
 men, this fine regiment began to retire in disorder. The 34th and 
 oOth were in the same perilous predicament, owing to the front and 
 flank movements of the enemy, when Passifern with his Highlanders 
 entered the bloody arena. As the battalion moved in open column 
 of companies, along the hill-top from the camp towards the pass, 
 Cameron addressed a few words to them, exhorting them to fight to 
 the last man, and maintain the ancient fame of the north. He re- 
 minded them that they were not fighting merely for the defence of 
 Spain, but of those homes where their kindred dwelt. His voice 
 became drowned in the din of the conflict which rolled along the 
 face of the hills, and Stuart heard only the concluding part of his 
 address, and part of it was in Gaelic. " Highlanders ! we shall have a 
 bloody sabbath here to-day ; but we go forth to shed our blood that the 
 sabbath-bells may ring in peace at home, in those green straths and 
 wooded glens where many a Scottish heart is praying for us at this 
 hour." The sound of the pipes, as the piper on the flank of each 
 company struck up " On wi\ the Tartan" was the only reply. What 
 a gush of indescribable feeling came through every breast, when the 
 blast of the pipe was heard at such a moment ! Every eye lighted 
 up, and every cheek flushed : the efl'ect of the sound of that strange 
 instrument on the sons of Caledonia is well known. 
 
 " In halls of joy and in scenes of mourning it has prevailed, — it 
 has animated her warriors in battle, and welcomed them back after 
 their toils to the homes of their love and the hills of their nativity 
 Its strains were the first sounded in the ears of infancj', and they are 
 the last to be forgottc"^ in the wanderings of age. Even High- 
 landers will allow that it is not the gentlest of instruments; bw 
 when far from their mountain-homes, what sounds, however melo- 
 dious, could thrill their hearts like one burst of their own wild 
 native pipe ? The feelings which other instruments awaken are 
 general and undefined, because they talk ahke to Prenchmen, 
 Spaniards, Germans, and Highlanders, for they are common to all ; 
 but the bag-pipe is sacred to Scotland, and speaks a language which 
 Scotsmen only feel. It talks to them of home and all the past, and 
 brings before them, on the burning shores of India, the wild hills and 
 oft-frequented streams of Caledonia,— the friends that are thinking 
 of them, and the sweethearts and wives that are weeping for them 
 there. And need it be told here to how many fields of danger and 
 victory its proud strains have led ? There is not a battle that if 
 
 z 2 
 
336 THE nOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 honoi:rable to Britain in which its war-blast has not sounded ; when 
 every other instrument lias been hushed by the contusion and 
 carnage of the scene, it has been borne into the thick of the battle, 
 and far in the advance its bleedin!j;but devoted bearer, sinking to the 
 earth, has sounded at once encouragement to his countrymen — and 
 his own coronach ! "* 
 
 Eanald-dhu with his comrades strove to call up the " fierce native 
 daring " of the Highlanders, who continued to move quickly forward. 
 The balls now began to hiss and tear up the turf around them, now 
 and then striking down some poor fellow, who was left rolling on the 
 ground in agony, 
 
 " The battalion will form line on the grenadiers," cried Fassifern, 
 — "double quick!" The movement was performed with the ra- 
 pidity and precision of a home-review. As the covering serjeant of 
 the light company took up the ground of alignement, holding his 
 long pike aloft, a shot struck him in the head, passing through his 
 right eye, and he fell dead. The line formed across his body, and 
 the v.'ord of command from Seaton, "Light company; halt, — front, 
 dress I" had scarcely been heard on the left, before the orderly 
 bugler, who stood by Cameron's side, sounded to fire, and the hoarse 
 braying pioh-achd now rang along the line. 
 
 The first volley of the Highlanders gave a temporary check to the 
 enemy, and enabled the 34tli and " old Half-hundred " to reform in 
 order!^ The Fi*encli line was now, as I have said, ^"ithin thirty paces, 
 and every lineament and feature of their dark and sallow faces could 
 be distinctly seen at so short a distance. They were now in the 
 midst of all the uproar, the smoke, the blood, the danger, the 
 mingling of hideous groans and cries, — in short, the hell upon earth 
 of a hot engagement, in which both parties became so heated by the 
 slaughter around them, that all the softer passions were forgotten, 
 and they longed, with a tiger-like feeling, to bury their blades in 
 each other's hearts. 
 
 Ronald felt his pulses thickening, the blood tingling in his ears, 
 for the sound of the musketry had deafened them to everytliing else, 
 and his heart rebounded within his bosom until he could almost hear 
 it beat ; but it was vrLi\\ feelings the reverse of fear,— a wish to leap 
 headlong among the enemy, to cut them do-\A-n vdth his sword as he 
 would whin-lDushes, and to revenge the slaughter the terrible fire of 
 so dense a column was making among his gallant and devoted 
 regiment. So thick Avas the smoke become, that he could scarcely 
 see tl;e third file from him, and only at times it cleared up a little. 
 AVhat was then revealed served only to infuriate him the more. 
 The Highlanders were lying in heaps across and across each other,— 
 piled up just as they fell; while their comrades fought above them, 
 firing and reloading with all the rapidity in their power until struck 
 by a shot, and doA^ni they fell to perish unnoticed aud unknoAMi. 
 Almost every shot killed; for the distance was short, and the 
 wounds were hideous and ghastly, the blood spouting forth from the 
 orifice as if through a syringe. 
 
 Now and then Ronald felt his heart momentarily recoil within 
 him when he beheld some poor soldier, while in the full possession oi 
 life and energj', toss aside his firelock, and fall suddenly ba/3kwards 
 
 * Preface to Macdonald's " Aiicient Martial Music of Scotlan^l." 
 
THE KOilANCE OT WAE. 337 
 
 acro:=>s some heap of corpses — stricken dead. But a battle-field is n& 
 place for sympathy, and the feeling lasted but for an instant. 
 
 " Shall we never get the word to charge ?" cried Seaton fiercely. 
 " O Stuart ! this is indeed infernal -work, — to be mauled thus, and 
 v/ithin a few feet of their muzzles."' 
 
 '' A charge would be madness, and our utter destruction. A swingle 
 regiment against thirteen columns of Frenchmen — " 
 
 " AVe possess the pass, though. Poor Macivar is on the turf, and 
 IMacdonuil is shot through the heart. Hah ! see to the left : the 
 50th are giving way— God ! I am struck !" He sunk to the earth, 
 with the blood gushing from his mouth and no;;trils. A shot had 
 pierced his breast, beating in with it a part of the silver breast-plat<3, 
 and in great agony he rolled over several times, grasping and tearing 
 the turf with fruitless efforts to regain his feet. 
 
 " Never mind me, hght bol^s, but stand by Cameron to the la.st. 
 Hurrah !" Convulsively he strove to raise himself up ! but another 
 bullet passed through his neck, and a deadly paleness overspread his 
 countenance. He gave his claymore one last flourish, he cast a 
 glance of fury and despair towards the enemy, and expired. Scarcely 
 a minute had elapsed since he was struck, and now he was dead ! 
 
 " Poor Seaton ! " muttered llonald, and turned away. He had 
 now the command of the light company ; the other lieutenant lay 
 bleeding to death a few yards olf, and in the intervals of pain crying 
 fruitlessly for water. One soldier, who had been struck by a shot 
 across the bridge of the nose, became blind, and rushed franticly 
 among the enemy, to perish under their bayonets. Another, who 
 had his lower jaw carried off, presented a horriljle spectacle as he 
 lay on the ground, vomiting up blood through his open throat, and 
 lolling out his exposed and swollen tongue. 
 
 " Ninety-second ! Prepare to charge ! " cried Cameron, animated 
 to fury by this deadly slaughter of his regiment. " Gordon High- 
 landers ! prepare to charge," he repeated, as he "alloped along the 
 broken line with eyes flashing fire, while he Avaved his bonnet aloft. 
 " Close up, — keep ix)gether ; shoulder to shoulder, Highlandmen, — 
 charge ! " Eonald alone heard him, and repeated the rash order ; but 
 their voices ^\'ere unheard amidst the din of the conflict. At that 
 moment the smoke cleared a little away, and in front Ronald per- 
 ceived aPrench grenadier sling his musket, and advancing a few paces 
 before his friends, stoop down to rifle an officer of the 71st regiment, 
 who was lying dead between the lines. 
 
 " Iverach, mark that plundering rascal," said Stuart ; " aim 
 steadily." 
 
 Evan fired and missed. 
 
 " That was not like a man from the braes of Strathonan ! " said 
 his master angrily. " Pire, Ian Macdonald ; you are one of the best 
 shots in the company." 
 
 " My father shot the Damh mJior a Yonalia toon in Padenoch. 
 and I v/as aye thouchten to pe a petterer marksman than liim."' 
 replied the young Highlander coolly, as he levelled his piece au'' 
 fired. The Prenchman fell forward, beat the earth with his heel^ 
 for a moment, and then lay motionless. 
 
 " He's toon, sir : I have pitten a flea in his lug," replied the 
 marksman, as he bit another cartridge. 
 
 Por two hours this desperate and unequal conflict was maintained. 
 The other regiments had given way in disorder, and the Highlanders 
 
338 THE komance of tvae. 
 
 began to waver, after the loss of their gallant colonel, who had re- 
 tired severely Avounded. Nearly all the ollicers were dead or dying 
 on the ground, while others were endeavouring to find their way to 
 some i)li\ce where they could get their wounds dressed. Two alone 
 were left with the regiment, — Ronald and another lieutenant, who, 
 being senior, had the conunand, and finding that the battalion was 
 reduced to loss than a company, ordered it to retire towards the pass 
 of Maya, having lost in two hours five-and-twenty oflicers, and three 
 hundred rank and tile. The other regiments were cut up in nearly 
 the same manner, but none had lost so many ofTicers. Stuart carried 
 the king's colour, and a serjeant the regimental— all the ensigns 
 "being killed or wounded. Poor Alister j\Iacdonald was left on the 
 field among the former. A shot had passed through his head, and he 
 died without a groan. His friend Ronald was considerably startled 
 •when he saw him lying dead. The prediction of Dugald Mhor 
 flashed upon his mind, and he looked round for that singular old 
 Highlander ; but he was away \nth Fassifern, on the road for the 
 Tillage of Irun. 
 
 The whole of the British forces were now in retreat before the 
 overwhelming power of the enemy, column after column of whom 
 continued to press forward. The defenders of the pass retired on 
 the rock of Maya, abandoning their camp and baggage to the 
 Prench. On retreating through the pass, Major Campbell, whose 
 liorse had been as usual shot under him, and who had first left the 
 field, oAving to a severe wound, headed a few Highlanders, who 
 •scrambled like squirrels up the face of a precipitous crag, from the 
 summit of which they kept up a hot fire upon the French troops, 
 not only holding them decidedly in check, and giving their friends 
 time to retire, but revenging the previous slaughter in front of the 
 pass. Here it may be worth mentioning that ]Major Campbell lost 
 his celebrated cudgel, which, in the enthusiasm of the m.oment, he 
 sent flying among the foe, and unhorsed a mounted otiicer. He gave 
 them also much weightier proofs of his good-will. Just as the flank 
 of a column of French grenadiers reached the base of the crag 
 occupied by the Highlanders, a tremendous fragment of rock, urged 
 forward by the powerful hands of the major, came thundering down 
 among them, rolling through the dense mass of men with irre- 
 sistible force and fury, making a perfect but terrible lane, and doing 
 as much mischief as a dozen bomb-shells. Every man below held 
 his breath fora moment, and then cries of rage and fury burst from the 
 whole division of Drouet ; while the Scots, pouring upon them a 
 parting salute of shot and stones, descended from the other side of 
 the rock, and rejoined their comrades in double-quick time. Under 
 the orders of General Stuart, the whole retired to the rock of Maya, 
 those in the rear maintaining an irregular skirmish \nth the French; 
 who, on perceiving this rearward movement, filled the air \vith cries 
 of " Long live the great Emperor ! Long live beautiful France ! " 
 mingled -with shouts— absolute yells of triumph and exultation. 
 
 Thoroughly enraged and disheartened, the British continued to 
 retire, yet anxiously expecting that succours from Lord Wellington 
 would arrive in time to enable them to face about, and beat Soult 
 before nightfall. As the httle band of Highlanders descended 
 straggling from the hills, Stuart saw a lady (the Tvdfe of an officer of 
 the oOth) on horseback, and in a miserable situation. Her horse 
 had stuck fast above the saddle-girths in a deep morass, and she was 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 339 
 
 too much terrified and be^vildered to leave it. The balls of thd 
 sharp-shooters were whistling; past her every second, and she cried 
 imploringly on the retreating Hi;,'li]anders to yield her some as- 
 sistance ; but it was iraijossible, and she fell into the hands of the 
 Trench, iter husband was lying dead, with his sword in his hand, 
 in the gorge of the fatal pass. On the brigade of Sir Edward Barnes 
 coming up from the rear, a new and sanguinary conflict took place; 
 but the enemy were defeated, and the pass rcgjiined. 
 
 That night the shattered remains of the Gordon Ilighlanders 
 bivouacked near Barrueta. The consternation of the inhabitants in 
 the mountain villages, when the heights were abandoned, and the 
 Prench again advancing, cannot be easily described. Yrom. Barrueta, 
 Elizondo, ^laya, and Huarte, men, women, and children, Avere seen 
 pouring forth during the night, and descending the mountain paths 
 by torch-light, bearing along, with infinite toil, their sick and infirm 
 relatives, their bedding, furniture, &c., to save them from the re- 
 morseless invaders, who, they too well knew, would give all to the 
 flames that was " too hot or too heavy " to carry off. 
 
 So eager were the I'rench soldiers for plunder, that their searches 
 were conducted upon a regular system. When a town was entered, 
 every piece of furniture was broloen, every plank raised, to see 
 whether anything was hidden or buried ; and the hammer and small 
 saw, carried by every man in his havresack, assisted greatly this un- 
 soldierlike work. It is said, that in Germany the vaults of the 
 churches, the very graves in the churchyards, were searched; and 
 the brutality with which they treated those unfortunate Spaniards, 
 male and female, who fell into their power, cannot be described. 
 Therefore it is not to be wondered at that the PjTcnean moun- 
 taineers fled at their approach, as from a legion of devils. 
 
 The roads were likewise crowded with wounded ofTicers and 
 soldiers, pouring down from the passes of Maya and Eoncesvallea, 
 Those who were able to move were ordered to retire to Vittoria 
 which had already been converted into a vast hospital, and crowded 
 to excess with the wounded of the great battle ; and the miseries 
 these unfortunates sutfered, travelling without baggage or money 
 in a strange country, weary, sick, and wounded, for a distance of one 
 hundred miles during a hot season, are utterly inconceivable. Many 
 wounds mortified, and became incurable ; hundreds of men perished 
 by the way-side of starvation and loss of blood, or reached Vittoria 
 only to expire in the streets. Every medical oflicer had from ninety 
 to a hundred patients on his list, and many lives were lost from the 
 want of proper attendance. 
 
 The astounding intelligence that the Duke of Dalmatiahad forced 
 the Pyrenean passes, reached I^ord Wellington at night, and 
 promptly, as usual, he took means to concentrate his army, providing 
 at the same time for the siege of San Sebastian and the blockade of 
 Pampeluna. The right Aving was full in retreat from the mountains 
 when he directed it to halt, and soon arrived himself to direct 
 measures for covering Pampeluna, within a few miles of which Soult, 
 eager for its relief, had now arrived. The discomfited troops from 
 Maya were ordered to march on the position before Pampeluna, and 
 moved accordingly from Barrueta on Tuesday, the 27th. A melan- 
 choly spectacle the parade of the Gordon Highlanders presented on 
 that morning ! The colours, which had been shot almost to rags, 
 "Were cased, and carried bv non-commissioned oflicers- two vounp* 
 
340 THE BO\IANCE OF WAS. 
 
 i.ieut€nauts had the command, and as the sohtary piper, Jlanala 
 Macdonuildhu, blew the " gatherinii," he watched with a stern and 
 louring visage tiie lew survivors of the late conflict, as they paraded 
 on the hill-side, falling one by one into their places. Here were five 
 men of the grenadiers, twenty men of another company, ten of a 
 third, two of a fourth, and many others were totally annihilated, 
 neither otticer nor private being present. The serjeant-major with 
 his arm in a sling, ])resented a list of the casualties to Lieutenant 
 Logan, who commanded, — Logan of that Ilk, as he ^\•a.s named by the 
 mess. 
 
 " Where is Captain Mac Ivor ? " 
 
 "' Killed, sir. 1 saw him lying dead, close by Mr. Kennedy and 
 31 r. Macdonald." 
 
 '■ "NVhere is Captain Bevan ? " 
 
 " He retired, sir, with his arm shattered near the elbow, and 
 expired at the moment Dr. Stuart attempted to remove the limb at 
 the shoulder-socket." 
 
 "Where is Gordon?" 
 
 '■' Severely wounded, and gone to the rear." 
 
 " Grant ? " 
 
 " Shot through the side." 
 
 " Macpherson and Macdonald, — E-anald Macdonuil, I mean ? " 
 
 " Missing, sir." And so on — killed, wounded, and missing, was the 
 answer to every question. 
 
 " God help us, sir ! " said the worthy non-commissioned officer, as 
 he raib(d his hand to his bonnet and turned away with a glistening 
 eye ; " but it's a heart-breaking thing to see the regiment cut up in 
 this way." 
 
 The band was annihilated, and with a single drum and bagpipe the 
 httle party moved off, just as the morning sun rose above that deadly 
 pass, where so many a gallant heart had grown cold, and ceased to 
 beat for ever. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE BLOCK-HOUSE.— 3IIN^A. 
 
 Hill's division from the Pyrenees arrived at Pampeluna in time 
 to share the fighting which ensued when Soult endeavoured to dis- 
 lodge the allies on the 28th, but Avas repulsed with immense loss. 
 Along the heights of Huarte the contest was very severe, and the 
 braver}' of the British was equalled only by that of their enemies. 
 Every regiment charged Avitli the bayonet ; and the Highlanders, — 
 ever at home at close quarters, — more than once. Both armie.? 
 remained quiet during the 29th; but Wellington, having completed 
 all his arrangements, attacked the left and centre of Soult's forces 
 next morning, and defeated them with great slaughter. Upon this 
 discomfiture, the marshal's only object was to secure a safe retreat 
 into France. After a fruitles.s attempt to turn Sir Eowland Hill's 
 position at La Zarza, and fighting until compelled to cease firing by 
 night coming on, they abandoned their ground under the favouring 
 shadow of the darkness, and on the morrow were discovered in full 
 retreat for France by the pass of Donna Maria. The allies " followed 
 them lip" in hot pursuit, fighting and capturing at every yard of the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. Sll 
 
 way, and on the 1st of August again took possession of those hard- 
 contested passes, while the Prench retired into their own country 
 completely thrashed, but certainly not to their hearts' content. 
 With the exception of a slight bayonet-wound in a charge at La 
 Zarza, Ronald Stuart had escaped with a whole skin during all these 
 hard conflicts, known generally as the battles of the Pyrenees. But 
 how much the regiment had suflered may be inferred from the fact, 
 that of the thousand men who had landed in Spain under its colours 
 about eighty only were in the ranks. 
 
 The aspect of the passes of Maya and lioncesvalles, when re- 
 occupied, was at once revolting and humiliating. The corses of 
 friends and foes lay yet unburied there ; but the death-hunters, the 
 guerillas, and those ferocious banditti who infested every part of 
 Spain, had been there at work ; and most of the bodies were lying: 
 naked as when they came into the world. Ronald Ibund Captain 
 Mac Ivor in this condition, with his broad-sword so glued and 
 encrusted with gore to his stiffened fingers, that it could not be 
 removed, and so was buried with him. For many days the soldiers 
 Avere busied in burying the dead. Deep holes were dug, wherein 
 friends and foes were interred together, — thrown in just as they were 
 found ; and when the pit Avas brim full, the earth was heaped over 
 it. These mounds of death, — fragments of uniform, tatters of tartan 
 and plumage, shakoes and grenadier-caps, scattered about in thou- 
 sands Avhere the troops were encamped, served very disagreeably to 
 remind them of Avhat might be their own fate on some future day. 
 With the exception of his sash and epaulets, ring and watch, &c., the 
 body of poor Alister lay untouched, and Stuart was deeply moved, at 
 least as much as a hard-hearted campaigner could v/ell be, at the 
 sight of his once merry and brave young comrade's remains. His 
 claymore was grasped in one hand, and his bonnet in the other. The 
 death-shot had passed through his brain, and he had fallen in the 
 act of cheering on his men. His dark locks were dam}) with the mid- 
 night dew, and a formidable frown contracted his tine bold forehead. 
 He had lain for seven days uninterred, and Ronald prepared to 
 commit his body to the earth. It was rolled in a blanket, Avhile 
 Evan dug a pit three feet deep and six long, in which the corse was 
 deposited. 
 
 " Puir Maister Macdonald ! " said Evan, as he smoothed down the 
 green sods. " He was a leal true Scotsman and a gallant gentleman : 
 Ian" it may be ere we see his maik again. He was a gude officer, and 
 well was he loed by every ane." 
 
 The other officers wore all placed in one grave by the Highlanders, 
 who, according to the ancient Scottish custom, piled a large cairn of 
 loose stones over it. It was situated on the left of the road leading 
 from Maya to Prance, and probably is yet to be seen. So great was 
 the slaughter among the officers, that Stuart, although a very junior 
 lieutenant, obtained a company, and succeeded his I'riend Seaton in 
 command of the " light bobs." While the troops lay encamped on 
 the PjTenees. the different corps were soon made up to their proper 
 strength by tne return of the convalescents from Vittoria, and the 
 arrival of recruits from the depots or second battalions at home. In 
 about two months the Highlanders began once more to assume the 
 appearance of a regiment ," and Passifern, and other officers who had 
 been wounded in the fatal action of the 25th July, rejoined as sooo 
 as their scars were closed. 
 
S42 THE KOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 Alor.g the chain of heights, strong redoubts and block-houses were 
 placed at intervals. The last were composed of horizontal logs, 
 loop-holed for musketry, and occupied by strong picquets, who were 
 continually on the alert, in case Marshal Soult nnght again pay them 
 some sudden visit from Gasoony. One night in October, Ronald 
 Stuart with his company were on duty in one of these block-houses, 
 when a sudden attack was made on the position by the enemy. 
 There had been a great fall of snow, and the intense cold by which 
 it was accompanied added greatly to the discomfort of the troops 
 encamped on these bleak and lofty mountains, Avitli no other shelter 
 against the inclemencies of the weather, day and night, than canvass 
 tents. The hills and valleys were completely covered to the depth of 
 several feet, and many sentinels were lost, or found dreadfully frost- 
 bitten when dug out. A path had been made from the Maya camp 
 to the block-house which Stuart was to occupy • and as his company 
 marched along the slippery and winding roadway, they often saw 
 Spanish peasants or guerillas lying dead with shovels near them, 
 showing that they had perished with the intensity of the cold whilst 
 engaged on some Avorking or fatigue-party. In some places a frozen 
 grisly head, or shrunken hand, clenched and withered, appeared 
 above the smooth white surface of the snow. Had the view around 
 the block-house been in Greenland or Newfoundland, it could not 
 have presented a more dreary aspeci The whole of the Pyrencan 
 chain, and the plains of Beam and Gascony below, were clad in the 
 same white livery. The sky was of the purest, deepest, and coldest 
 blue, showing the most distant summits of the Pyrenean chain, the 
 white peaks of which rose in long perspective beyond each other in 
 an infinity of outlines. The dense smoke from the camp fires was 
 curling up from amidst the dingy-coloured tents, where now and 
 then the beat of a drum rang out sharply into the clear and frosty 
 ^ir. 
 
 Although the cold was intense, and the legs of the Highlanders 
 were as red as their jackets, the sun was shining brightly, and the 
 whole surface of the earth and the atmosphere were sparkling and 
 glittering in his radiance. With their muskets slung and a piper 
 playing before them, the light company trod merrily up the ascent, 
 many of them singing aloud to the notes of the pipe and the tramp 
 of their feet, which sounded dull and hollow on the hard and frozen 
 path. A captain of the 34th regiment, whom, with his company, 
 they relieved, left' Stuart a flask of brandy, for which he and his two 
 subs (Chisholm and Evan Macpherson) were very thankful, and they 
 found it a considerable acquisition during a winter day and night in 
 a log-house, where the wind went in and out at a hundi'ed chinks 
 and crannies. The picquet-house was internally one large apartment, 
 in the centre of which the soldiers piled their arms, and huddled 
 close together on the ground for mutual heat, and to avoid the cold 
 blast which blew through the numerous open loop-holes in the four 
 walls of the edifice. 
 
 Towards night, a soldier of the G6th regiment, muffled up in his 
 grey great-coat, came toiling up the steep ascent from the valley 
 below, bringing to Stuart a letter, which had arrived from Lisbon in 
 the packet for his corps. An officer of the GGth, who was intimate 
 with Eonald, had despatched it to him forthwith, and he knew in an 
 instant, by the handwriting and the crest on the seal, that it came 
 from Alice Lisle. Giving the Englishman a glass of brandy, he 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 343 
 
 desired him to lose no time in regaining his quarters, in case of a 
 snow-storm setting in before nightfall. 
 
 If anything would serve to buoy up one's spirits amid all the 
 miseries of campaigning and the dangers of daily warfare, such 
 letters as those of Alice Lisle certainly must have had that effect. 
 After expressing her delight for Stuart's success and safety in a 
 manner and delicacy of style peculiarly her own, she continued 
 thus : — 
 
 " And so you are really now a captain, and knight of a military 
 order ? O Heaven ! 1 can scarcely believe it, even when your name 
 appears in the army-list. How short a time has elapsed since you 
 iised to harry the nests of the eagle and owl at Tullyisla, among the 
 dark nooks of the old castle, and gather flowers and berries with 
 Louis and me in Strathonan ! You well know, dear Eonald, that 
 no one rejoices niore than Alice Lisle at your rapid promotion, but 
 indeed I think it very horrid to owe one's advancement *'^ the death 
 of one's friends, and I see that a sad alteration has taken v^ace among 
 the officers of the Gordon Highlanders since the battle of the 
 Pyrenees, The joy I now feel in the knowledge of your— alas ! only 
 temporary — safety and good fortune, will scarcely counterbalance 
 the agony of mind I experienced when the news of Vittoria arrived, 
 and your name appeared in the list of wounded. Papa concealed the 
 
 5apers from me for some days, but I heard it from my foster-sister, 
 essie Cavers, and until your letters, dated from the ' Maya camp,' 
 reached us, my anxiety and perturbation of spirit were quite inde- 
 scribable. What was thought of your danger by the people up the 
 glen at Lochisla I really know not, but tl e whole country side was in 
 an uproar in honour of the victory. The banner was displayed from 
 the tower, a huge bonfire blazed on the summit of Craigonan, and 
 the two old cannon on the bartizan were kept booming away the 
 live-long night, greatly to the terror of all the old ladies within ten 
 miles, who supposed that Buonaparte in person had come up the 
 Tay, and landed a host of be-whiskered grenadiers on the Inches of 
 Perth, The noise of the cannon alarmed ethers, too. The militia, 
 the fencibles, and the volunteers got under arms ; many of the chiefs 
 north of this began to muster their people, and the whole country 
 was in a state of commotion. Your rather gave a dinner to his kin 
 and tenantry, and dancing, drinking, and piping were kept up, I 
 believe, in the old hall until the morning sun shone down the glen 
 upon them," 
 
 Polled up in his cloak, Ponald sat sipping his brandy-and-water, 
 while by the light of a streaming candle he conned over the letter, 
 so much absorbed in its contents as to forget everything around him, 
 until the report of a musket-, fired by the sentinel outside the block- 
 house, caused him to start and leap to his feet as if he had received 
 an electric shock. 
 
 " The French, and in this frosty night ! " exclaimed Macpherson, 
 leaping up from the ground, on which he had been fast asleep. 
 *' Now the devil confound them, they might have chosen dalight for 
 their visit. Come, Stuart, leave your love-letter, — it can scarcely be 
 ar-yihing else, as you have been reading it all night, — leave it, and 
 attend to your command, or Wellington will be issuing such another 
 order anent love-letters as he gave us about the wild-pigs at Alba.'"' 
 
 " We receive more reprehensions than rewards from head-quarters, 
 certainly. But where are the French ? Among the hills?" 
 
3U THE EOMAJfCE OF WAR. 
 
 "Clo.se by, man!" 
 
 " In force, too !" added Chisholm, a smart little sub, who had been 
 watching them from [a loop-hole. " There wDl be heads broken in 
 ten minutes." 
 
 " I believe you, my boy 1 " answered Evan -Macpherson (a tall 
 fellow, with thick black curly hair and keen dark eye), as he ad- 
 ju.stcd his sword-belt. '• They are in force enough to put us all to 
 our mettle." 
 
 ''Stand to your orm.s, men!" said Bonald; but the order wa.? 
 needless, every man being at his post. " Be bold of heart, my lads !" 
 he added, as he watched the advancing enemy. " We shall soon be 
 succoured." 
 
 " Not likely," said Macpherson bluntly, " with all due deference to 
 you, Stuart. ^^lina, the guerilla chief, with his followers, is far do^vn 
 the mountains, and General Walker's brigade is scarcely within gun- 
 shot : so we may light till daylight without aid." 
 
 " Or till doomsday," retorted Stuart, " if the logs hold together, 
 and the ammunition lasts. Blow, Macviirich," said he to the piper ; 
 " give us ■ Rudertck Mhic Alpccin Dubh,' and blo\v till the logs shake 
 around us." 
 
 The night was clear, the moon shone brightly, and from their loop- 
 holes they saw the French advancing in considerable force — probablr 
 two thousand strong. Their dark figures, enveloped in loose great 
 coats, were seen distinctly dotting the pure white covering of the 
 mountain-side, up the slippery ascent of which they were toihng 
 with infinite labour. 
 
 " They are advancing in extended order," observed Stuart, " for 
 fear of our sending them a cannon-shot, probably." 
 
 " Which shoAvs they know nothing about our position." 
 
 " Certes," said Chisholm, " they are no economists of their persons^ 
 to advance upon us over such open ground. They are chasseurs, 
 probably. The moon shines brightly, yet no appointments glitter 
 about them." 
 
 " Soult is a most indefatigable fool," said Stuart. " He causes his 
 soldiers to light needlessly. Poor fellows ! they must obey their 
 orders ; but what benefit is gained, even if this solitary picquet is cut 
 off? The actions at the PjTenees and before Pampeluna might have 
 taught the 'Lieutenant of the Emperor' a little experience." 
 
 " I dare say," said Macpherson, " they are within range now." 
 
 "Well, then, we will enjoy some shooting with them," replied hi? 
 captain. " Line the loop-holes, — aim steadily ; every bullet is worth 
 its weight in gold to-nisht. They are twenty to one, but care not 
 for that ! Help is at hand." 
 
 " Get into yer places, lads," said Serjeant Duncan Macrone, " and, 
 mind ye ta level low, and gie them ta cauld kail o' Yittoria bet again. 
 Got pless us ; but this nicht is cauld eneuch ta freeze ta fery Ness." 
 The discharge of forty muskets almost shook the frail block-house 
 to pieces ; and while those soldiers who had fired withdrew to reload, 
 forty others took their places ; and thus a rapid and constant fire 
 was maintained against the enemy, blazing around the redoubt, and 
 flashing incessantly from every loop-hole. The summit of the hill 
 was enveloped in clouds of smoke streaked with red fire, and the 
 echoes of the musketry sounded like peals of thunder, boomins; 
 through the clear atmosphere and echoing among the surrounding 
 peaks. Deadly execution was done among the advancing foe, whose 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAK. 345 
 
 Killed and wounded were seen lying prostrate on the frozen snow, 
 and marking the route up the hill by a series of black spots. Never- 
 theless, although their numbers were diminishing at every step, the 
 main body continued to advance with unabated ardour, formed in a 
 wide half-circle at extended order, returning ns well as they could 
 the fire of the adversaries, upon whose place of concealment their 
 shot came every instant, tearing away huge splintors or sinking deep 
 into the stockade with a dull heavy sound ; but only a single bullet, 
 during a hot contest of two hours, entered the block-house. It 
 massed through a loop-hole, and wounded a Highlander named Allan 
 Warristoun in the neck, passing through his leather stock, and he 
 sunk on the ground bleeding profusely ; but Chisholm attempted to 
 stanch the blood, by dressing the wound as well as circumstances 
 would permit. This was the only casualty that occurred during that 
 night's skirmish, but terrible execution was done among the enemy. 
 They were kept completely at bay, until they became wearied and 
 disheartened by the slaughter made among them. The light com- 
 pany being excellent marksmen, every shot they fired told fatally on 
 the assailants, at whom they could aim unseen with the utmost cool- 
 ness and precision. After enduring that sort of work for nearly two 
 hours, they retired with the utmost expedition on perceiving a strong 
 body of Spanish guerillas advancing up the mountains from the 
 village of Eoncesvalles. A little farther oft" was seen the brigade of 
 General Walker, which the noise of the firing had summoned to 
 arms ; but their appearance was needless, as the conflict was over. 
 
 " Here comes Mina, — the king of Navarre !" exclaimed Stuart, as 
 the great mob of guerillas came rushing up the mountains with 
 ehouts of " Ilea Ferdinand ! Long live Spain !" &c. "Cease firing, 
 lads, and let the French retreat. Poor devils ! we have mauled them 
 eadly. They are lying as thick as blackberries on the hill-side."' In 
 less than half an hour the French had disappeared, and the block- 
 house w xs surrounded by the bold guerillas, their appetite for blood 
 and plunder having been keenly whetted by the report of the 
 musketry. 
 
 " Let those who have watches and any loose 'pesetas in their purses, 
 look well to them,"' said Chisholm, laughing. " Here come the 
 honest soldiers of General jMina, who is said to be often a little upon 
 the p'tcaro himself." 
 
 " The licht-fingered loon will be waur than ony warlock, gin he 
 gets his neive into my sporran molloch .'" said Iverach, clasping the 
 fox's mouth of his Highland purse. 
 
 " Or mine," said Serjeant Macrone. " Ta will pe gettin' plenty 
 cauld iron, but no a prass podle frae me. Got tam !" 
 
 " The bonnets ! the bonnets ! Gude guide us. look at the blue 
 bonnets ! " exclaimed the Highlanders, astonishea at the head-dress 
 of the Biscayan guei'dlas, who wore flat blue caps, like those of the 
 Scottish peasantry. Daylight had now da^vned, and withdrawing the 
 barricading from the door of the picquet-house, Stuart issued forth 
 amidst the guerillas, who were busy stripping the French ; and long 
 practice had rendered their fingers so nimble, that in ten minutes 
 the numerous bodies lying strewed around the position were, like 
 those at Maya, denuded of every article of clothing. Many of the 
 wounded were also stripped, and perished miserably on the frozen 
 snow. Like all the Spanish pea.santry, the guerillas were stout and 
 handsome men, from Guipuscoa, Alava, and Biscay a. Nearly all 
 
S46 THE EOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 wore the zammarra, or jacket of l^lack sheep-skin, knee breeches, and 
 abarcas, or shoes of hog-skin tied to the feet hke sandals. All wore 
 the broad Basciue ca]), and wore armed to the teeth with muskets, 
 l)istols, pikes, poniards, and ollensive weapons of every kind, which, 
 with their huge whiskers and moustaches, gave them the appearance 
 of a desperate horde of bandits. Their language, the Lingua Bas- 
 concado, or Basciience, as the Spaniards name it, sounded strange 
 to the ear of lionald, who had been accustomed to the pure and 
 sonorous language of the Castiles. That of the Basques, according to 
 their own account, existed before the building of the tower of Babel, 
 and was brought into Spain by Jubal, — an assertion somewhat diffi- 
 cult to prove. 
 
 Coming from amidst his plundering followers, the celebrated Mina 
 advanced towards llonald Stuart. liis dress was in no way different 
 from that of his followers, save that a pair of gay French epaulets 
 adorned his sheep-skin jacket, and a black ostrich feather floated 
 froin the band of his sombrero over his left shoulder. Pasted upon 
 his shoulder-belt was a picture of the Virgin Mary, and a golden 
 image of the same personage hung round his neck. He was accoutred 
 ■v\ith sword and dagger, and carried a short carbine in his hand, the 
 ammunition for which was in a cartouch-box on his left side, 
 balanced on his right by a copper bugle, for sunnnoning his fol- 
 lowers. He had a fine open countenance, of a very mild and pre- 
 possessing expression, quite different from what Stuart expected to 
 find in the leader of many ihousand guerillas. 
 
 The folloAving description (taken from a journal of the period of 
 which I write) will best illustrate his character to the reader:— 
 " Espoz y Mina was at this time between tAventy and thirty years 
 old, and his frame, both of body and mind, had received the stamp 
 which the circumstances of his country required. When he hes 
 down at night, it is always with his pistols in his girdle ; and on the 
 few nights that he ever passes under a roof, the door is well secured. 
 Two hours' sleep is sufficient for him. ^Yhen his shirt is dirty, he 
 goes to the nearest house, and changes it with the ovaier for a clean 
 one. He makes his own powder in a cave among the mountains, 
 and has his hospital in a mountain village, which the French have 
 repeatedly attempted to surprise, but always unsuccessfully, for the 
 hearts of the whole country are with Mina. He receives intelhgence 
 of every movement of the enemy, and on the first tidings of danger 
 the villagers carry the sick and wounded upon litters on their 
 shoulders into the fastnesses, where they remain in perfect security 
 till the baffled enemy retires. The alcaldes of every village, when 
 they are ordered by the French to make any requisition, must in- 
 stantly inform Mina ; if they fail in this duty,'he goes himself in the 
 night, seizes them in their beds, and shoots them." 
 
 Although not above five-and twenty, the hard service he had seen, 
 in this irregular mode of warfare, made him seem much older. 
 Mina was the idol of the Spanish people, who styled him the king of 
 jSIavarre, and extolled his deeds beyond those of the Cid, or the most 
 famous knights of Spanish chivalry and romance. Mina was a true 
 patriot, and the Hotter of the Spaniards. Although his guerillas 
 were well drilled, and consisted of ten or twelve battalions, which ne 
 ruled with a rod of iron, he never restrained them from plundering 
 the French. On his approach, Eonald raised his bonnet in greeting 
 the great guerilla chief,— for though he was originally but a humbl* 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 farmer of Pampeluna, yet Trancisco ]\Iiua had the heart of a hcror 
 and was brave as a lion. 
 
 " Senor Capitan" said he, bowing profoundly, after the most a])- 
 proved Spanish manner, " we have been somewhat late in coming to 
 your rescue ; l)ut the fire of your soldiers has told superbly, and the 
 base ladrones lie here pretty thick. The old proverb should be 
 changed to — " the more I^rench, the more gain for us." However, I 
 never put my own hands to a man after he is dead ; the ])lundcr I 
 leave to my followers, — 'tis all their i)ay, poor fellows ; and Our Lady 
 del Pilar knows that they earn it hard." 
 
 " A mode of payment I very little adndre," said Stuart, with a 
 smile. " But I trust, Senor Francisco, that your people will see them 
 buried after this unharnessing is over ?" 
 
 " Sat anas seize us if we bury a hair of their heads!'' exclaimed 
 the guerilla vehemently. " Pho ! Senor Cavalier, you forget your- 
 self. They are only Frenchmen ; and what say the priests every 
 day, — ' LoVe all mankind hut Frenchmen, vv'lio are the spawn of hell !' 
 They lie under the ban of his holiness the Pope, and with this ex- 
 cuse ^hree hundred unfrocked friars serve in my band — and brave 
 fellows they are as ever grasped hilt ! But as for the soldiers of the 
 Corsican tyrant, they may feast the wolves of the mountains or the 
 birds of the air, for aught that Mina cares about the matter." 
 
 Ho now uuslung a huge leathern flask of ar/uardiente from his 
 sash, and after giving Stuart and his subs each a draught, he handed 
 the rest to Serjeant Macrone, to distribute among the light com- 
 pany. Macrone gave his best bow, and carried otf the flask, Avith 
 many a Ansh that " Got might pless her honour's ainsel, and gie her 
 lots o' ta sneeshin and ta gude Ferintosh ! " To the good wishes of 
 Macrone, Mina replied only by a stare, without comprehending a 
 sylluble. He next gave some cigars to each of the oflicers, saying, at 
 the same time, that it was no compliment to present them v/ith 
 what cost him nothing, one of his guerillas having found them in a 
 Frenchman's havresack. 
 
 " But they are prime cigars, senores, and from the manufactory at 
 Guadalaxara, in Mexico," said he, lighting one adroitly by means of 
 flashing powder in the pan of one of his pistols. " Excellent ! " con- 
 tinued be, pulTing away with an air of satisfaction which would have 
 driven the royal author of the " Counter-blaste" to his wit's-end. 
 " Excellent, indeed, par Biez ! And I ought to be a judge, senores, 
 having smoked some hundred thousands in my time ; and though 
 but a poor peasant, who dug the earth and planted cabbages at Pam- 
 peluna, I am descended in a direct line from the noble cavalier Don 
 Hernandez de Toledo, v/ho, in 1559, introduced the famous leaf into 
 Europe, from the pro\ance of Tabaca, in San Domingo." 
 
 " Truly, Senor Espoz y Mina, your worthy ancestor deserves the 
 gratitude of his countrymen," said Chisholm, in a tone of raillery. 
 
 He contrived a very agreeable amusement for them. From day- 
 da%vn to sunset they do little else than di'aw smoke into their moutns- 
 and watch it curling out again." 
 
 Mina fixed his keen dark eye with a glance of displeasure upon 
 Chisholm's good-natured countenance, but made no reply to him. 
 
 " Juan de la lioca ! " cried he, in a voice like thunder, while he 
 struck his foot impatiently on the frozen snov/. 
 
 " Senor ?" answered a childish voice ; and a tall Spanish boy about 
 sixteen years of age stood before him. This mere child fought in the 
 
3^13 THE BOMAXCE OF WAE. 
 
 band oi" ^liua. He was esteemed the bravest among them, and always 
 led their advanced j^uard, and his name had been blazoned forth in 
 all the Gaeetas of the country. 
 
 " Bring the spy before us." 
 
 The boy, Juan de la Jvoca, who was armed like his comrades \nth 
 pistols and carbine, dragged forward a peasant, whose arms were 
 bound with cords behind him. The poor wretch trembled violently 
 when the proud stern eye of Mina fell upon him. 
 
 "This is a notorious spy, senores," said he, " whom we captured on 
 our way up the mountains. Now, Senor Ficaro, what have you to 
 say that you should not die ? " 
 
 The spy never raised his eyes, and maintained a dogged silence. 
 
 " Brand him, Juan ! " exclaimed Mina. " Place the mark of Cain 
 upon his forehead, that every true Spaniard may shun, abhor, and 
 shrink from him ! " 
 
 The young savage, whom practice had rendered expert at the 
 operation, unsheathed his dagger, and cut off the ear of the captive, 
 from whom a deep imprecation escaped. Juan then thrust into the 
 picquet-fire in the block-house, an iron brand, just such as those 
 used for marking barrels, &c. It bore the words " Ytv\ Mina ! " 
 in letters half an inch square. Pour powerful guerillas grasped the 
 head of the spy, holding him so that it was impossible he could move. 
 When the brand was red-hot La Eoca pressed it upon his brow, the 
 flesh of which was roastod and scorched, under the terrible operation, 
 in a moment. The miserable being ^Tithed and shrieked in agony. 
 He burst from his torturers, and buried his face in the snow ; then 
 starting up with the yell of a fiend he rushed down the mountains 
 .ike a madman, and disappeared. 
 
 " Now, senores," said Mina, " I have inflicted upon him a punish- 
 ment Avorse than death, because those marks can never be effaced. 
 I mark every traitor thus, that my countrymen may know and 
 despise them. Those w'ho are thus branded are ashamed to look a 
 Spaniard in the face, and, being compelled to dwell in solitary places, 
 are often found dead of want among the mountains. But I must 
 noAA' make my adieus, and return to Roncesvalles, where my five 
 thousand followers are to be reviewed to-day, by Lord Wellington 
 and General Morillo." 
 
 He blew a blast on his horn to collect his people, and taking fare- 
 well of the Capitan de Cazadores (as he named Stuart), withdrew in 
 the direction of the famous pass of Roncesvalles, leaving the bodies 
 of the French lying stripped to the skin amidst the snow. As soon 
 its they had departed, Stuart ordered out the light company wdth 
 shovels, to entomb the bodies; but so do^p was the snow, that 
 J:emporary graves in its frail substance only could be given, as there 
 was not time to dig down to reach the earth. Many were found on 
 the point of death, the intense cold finishing what the bullet had 
 begun, and their gravediggers had to await, shovel in hand, the 
 moment of dissolution ; after which they buried, and heaped the 
 snow hurriedly over them. But a thaw came a short time before 
 the position on the heights was abandoned, and the remains of the 
 unfortunates w^ere again exposed, and at a time when no interment 
 could be given them, as the British forces were on the march to 
 invade the " sacred territory" of la helle France. 
 
 The success of Sir Thomas Graham at San Sebastian, wliich he 
 boldly won by storm on the 31st of August, the fall of Pampeluna^ 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 343 
 
 wliichj on tlie 31st of October, surrendered to Don Carlos de Espana, 
 and the successful passage of the Bidassoa, infused the highest ardour 
 into the heart of every soldier in the allied army, and every regiment 
 longed to unfurl its triumphant banners to tne winds of France. 
 Although the Prench maintained their ancient renown in arms by 
 fighting to the last, yet they were driven from all their intrenched 
 camps on the Lower Pyrenees, and combating every rood of ground, 
 retired on the 16th of November, to the left bank of the Nive, and 
 there encamped, after blomng up the bridge to prevent the British, 
 crossing the river, which at that time was swollen to thrice its usual 
 size by the melting of the snow on the hills, and by a long continu- 
 ance of rain. 
 
 The allies encamped on the Spanish side of the river, and hostihties 
 ceased for a time. The Gordon Highlanders occupied the French 
 village of Cambo, jn the department of the Lower Pyrenees, and 
 close to the river Nive. Its inhabitants had all fled on the advance 
 of the allies, crossing to the left bank with the retiring forces of then* 
 emperor. The camps and bivouacs of the French lay close to those 
 of their enemies, divided only by the narrow space of the river, and 
 the sentries on each side were but ten or fifteen yards distant from 
 each other. From dawn until sunset the French Serjeants were 
 heard continually drilling their squads of conscripts, twenty thousand 
 of whom Buonaparte had dragged away from their quiet homes, 
 and marched to the Nive to be drilled in the view of that veteran 
 army, Avhich had driven the flower of the soldiers of France from 
 one end of the Peninsula to the other. Day after day the French 
 non-commissioned officers were seen, cane in hand, getting the poor 
 peasant-boys into some state of discipline. The British used to 
 crowd to the river's edge to view the novel sight of French regiments 
 on their parade, and beholding them go through the maniement des 
 arrnes, or manual exercise, Avith all the minuteness common to the 
 French, — the adjutant giving, after every word of command, the 
 continual cautions, " un, detix, trois, quatre!" 
 
 At one part, where the river was very narrow, a soldier of the 3rd 
 Buffs, when on sentry one day, found himself immediately opposite 
 to a French grenadier, placed on the same duty on the left bank of 
 the river. The Gaul was a rough-wliiskered fellow, wearing the 
 usual service-hke great-coat, red epaulets, and high fur-cap of the 
 Imperial Guard. The sentinels had been staring steadily at each 
 other for some time ; and the Buff", who had begun to imagine the 
 face of the Frenchman was not unkno\'iTi to him, was considerably 
 astonished to hear him ask the question, — 
 
 " Well, Tom, old fellow 1 How are the dirty old Buffs coming on ?" 
 This rogue was a comrade of his own, who, a year or two before, had 
 deserted to the enemy, and had the cool impudence to hail his old 
 friend thus from the French side of the Nive. 
 
 On the evening of the 8th of November, the weather being 
 remarkably fine, the French officers sent their bands to the river- 
 side, to play for the entertainment of the British, and many courtesies^ 
 were interchanged ; flasks of wine and bunches of fruit were tossed^ 
 over by the French, who, avoiding military topics, conversed withg 
 soldier-like frankness on other subjects, llonald took the oppor-3 
 tunity to inquire after his old acquaintance, Captain de Masmai, and ) 
 was informed that his regiment, the 10th Cuirassiers, was stationed, i 
 at St. Jean de Luz, near Bayoiine. A young officer of chasseurs d\ 
 
 IL 2 A 
 
350 THE KOMANCE OF ^\'AB. 
 
 oA^raZ said be hoped the British passed their time pleasantly amid 
 the gaieties of Canibo, and with the lair dames of that beautiiul city. 
 Stuart replied in the same tone of raillery, that the Prench ladies 
 had all retired witli their countrymen, at the sight of the scarlet 
 coats : an answer which evidently piqued monsieur. 
 
 In exchange for some London newspapers, containing the 
 despatches of Lord Wellington, detailing the victory of Vittoria., au 
 old major, wearin;^ a dozen medals on his breast, threw across the 
 river a bundle of Parisian Moniteurs, containing the false and very 
 contradictory despatches of King Joseph on the same aiair. Some 
 Spanish journals, the Gaceta de la Recjencia and the Gaceta de 
 ralencia, they refused to receive, and politely returned. Between 
 deadlv enemies, intercourse such as this renders war at once noble 
 and chivalric. By it the heart of the sternest soldier becomes again 
 humanized, and the barbarities incident to his profession are lessened 
 and mitigated- 
 
 On the same evening, a remarkable cu-curastance occurred about a 
 mile above Cambo. A French guard were about to kill a bullock 
 for their rations ; but the animal broke loose, and plunging into the 
 stream, swam to the British side, and fell among a picquet of the 
 Gordon Highlanders, commanded by Chisholm. By them it was 
 instantly shot, flayed, and cut up ; and all w^ere rejoicing in expecta- 
 tion of a savour>' meal, when a French soldier, with a white hand- 
 kerchief displayed on the point of his sword, forded the river; 
 advancing to the picquet, he craved, in the name of his comrades, 
 that the flesh might be divided, — adding, that surely les Ecossais 
 would not deprive brothers of the sword of the only meal chance had 
 given them for two days. It was im])ossible to refuse. Two other 
 soldiers arrived, and they were sent back laden with half the carcases 
 and their canteens filled with ^^ine, for which the poor fellows seemed 
 very grateful; and one returned, presenting the thanks and compli- 
 ments of their officer to Chisholm for his kindness. The officers of 
 each army spent the evening in conversing across the river, laughing 
 and jesting like old friends ; and when it grew dark, with many adieus 
 they parted, — to meet on the next morning with their swords in 
 their hands. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIII. 
 
 THE CHATELET. 
 
 1 MTJST now present the reader with a change of scene, or at least 
 of adventures, in describing those of Louis Lisle ; who, after having 
 been severely wounded in the arm by the sword of De Mesmai, was 
 carried off a prisoner from the skirmish of Fuente Duenna. With a 
 few hundred other captives, gleaned up on different occasions, he had 
 been confined within the strong fortress of Pampeluna untU the 
 French army retired beyond it, when, with his comrades in misfor- 
 !iune, he was sent into France and placed in a solitary stronghold on 
 ihe left bank of the Nive, a few miles from the village of Cambo. 
 This was a gloomy old feudal f(;rtress, the property of the Duke of 
 
 Alba de T -, who has already figured in preceding chapters. It 
 
 ponsist^d of a nigh square keep, a lew flanking towers, and a high. 
 
TEE H0MA2TCE OP WAB. 331 
 
 wall, embattled along the top ; and every means l\ad been taken to 
 strengthen the place by stockades, loop-holes, cannon, kc. The 
 garrison consiste<l of two or three companies of the 105th French 
 regiuient of the line. Louis, who had been heartily tired of his 
 residence in Painpeluna, was but little pleased when he beheld the 
 gloomy chateau, as the body of prisoners, with an escort of Trench 
 la>i.cers, marched uj) the ascent leading to it. 
 
 It was on a dark and lowering November morning, when the black 
 towers, the grey palisades, the gloomy court, and muUled-up sentinels 
 appeared more sombre in the dull red light of the sun, which, like a 
 crimson globe, seemed resting on the eastern summits of the 
 Pyrenees, and struggling to show its face through the masses of dun 
 clouds which Hoatod across the sky. The tri-co] cured standard of 
 the emperor was drooping on the summit of the keep, and the guard 
 were under amis as the prisoners entered the gate. These consisted 
 principally of Spaniards and Portuguese ; there were a few British 
 soldiers, but Louis was the only oflicer, — and a very discontented 
 one he seemed, as he looked for^^■ard with considerable repugnance to 
 along imprisonment in Prance. 
 
 As they halted and formed line in the court of the fortress. Lisle 
 was somewhat surprised to hear bimself accosted in Spanish by an 
 oincer, who, muflied in a large military cloak, came from the keep. 
 He recognized his friend of Aranjuez, the father of Donna Virginia, 
 — the same traitorous Spanish noble who now openly served Buona- 
 parte; and, ns commandant of a French garrison, wore a staff-uniform 
 embroidered with oak-leaves. Lisle thought of Virginia, — indeed he 
 never thought of aught else : and veiling his dislike to the duke, he 
 answered him as politely as possible. He would fain have asked 
 after the fair donna, but feared to arouse the keen and ready sus- 
 picions of the proud and pompous Spaniard, while so completely 
 within his power. The duke behaved to him coldly but courteously ; 
 and, after receiving his parole of honour that he would not transgress 
 the bounds of the chatelet, invited him to dinner, and retired. 
 
 Louis was now his own master, with leave to perambulate as much 
 as he chose the court-yard and palisades of the out-works, while the 
 sentries from every nook and corner kept sharp eyes upon him, and 
 often, when he attempted to pass their posts, barred the vray mth 
 ported arms, and saying, " Pardon me, monsieur, you must not 
 pass ; " but with a softness of tone and politeness of manner, very 
 different from what those of a British sentinel would be on a similar 
 occasion. 
 
 The hours passed slowly away, and Louis began to feel very dis- 
 consolate, and very impatient of the monotony and restraint of a 
 prisonei-'s life, forming as it did so strong a contrast to the heart- 
 stirring excitement oi campaigning. As it was contrary to their 
 orders, the sentinels could not converse with him, and in truth his 
 French was none of the best ; so he passed the time in sauntering 
 dismally about until the sun began to ver^e westward, and he knew 
 that the dinner-hour v.as approaching. Iii the meantime, he whiled 
 away the hours as well as he could, 'by whistling a march, humming 
 a waltz, or tossing pebbles and fragments of lime from the ramparts 
 to raise circles and bubbles in the Nive, which swept round an angle 
 of the rocks on which the fortress stood. These emi)loymcnts he 
 varied by watching with an intense interest the distant Pyrenees, in 
 aopes to see the far away glitter of arms announce the approach ot 
 
 <a .$> 4j 
 
362 THE EOKLiNCE OF WiJt. 
 
 the allieSj whose troops he knew to be in that direction. The eager- 
 ness of his glance towards Spain did not escape the observation of 
 messieurs the sentries of the 105th, and they twirled their moustaches 
 and regarded each other with a truly French smile of hauteur and 
 complaisance, as they strode briskly to and fro on their posts ; and 
 one young man, pointing towards the Lower Pyrenees, remarked to 
 him significantly vnth. a smile, '"' Ce pays sent la poudre a canon. 
 
 monsieur 
 
 I" 
 
 About four o'clock in the afternoon (an early hour in 1813) dinner 
 was announced, and Lisle was ushered into an ancient hall, roofed 
 with oak and floored with stone, but in no way very magnificent. 
 There he "was received by the duke and his daughter, Virginia, who, 
 having heard of her friend's arrival, was dressed Anth unusual care 
 to receive him ; her woman had been occupied two good hours in 
 arranging the massive braids of her glossy hair in a way to please 
 their coquettish owner. A few officers of the French regiment were 
 present, and Louis could have dispensed with their presence very 
 well. He felt jealous at the very sight of them, as they Avere all 
 handsome fellows, chevaliers of the Legion and many other orders. 
 Besides, a Frenchman makes love as no other man does, and a douce 
 Scot is certainly no match for him in volubility of words and laughter- 
 There was a Spaniard present, who, although not greatly gifted with, 
 personal attractions, appeared to pay so much attention to Virginia, 
 that Lisle cursed him in his heart for his impudence, and began to 
 form plans for calling him to a severe account for his presumption. 
 
 Like the duke, this unworthy hidalgo was a renegade, and had been 
 created by Joseph Buonaparte Count of Aranjuez, and Colmenare 
 de Orija, and knight of the Stole, — an ancient order instituted by 
 the kings of Arragon. He greeted Lisle coldly enough. They had met 
 before at Aranjuez, where he bore the name of Felix Joaquin, of the 
 order of Calatrava ; for true Spaniards refused to acknowledge the 
 titles he bore from the usurper's hand. The donna behaved -with 
 the same aflabihty to him as to the other guests, being unwilling to 
 let him perceive that she understood his attentions ; but the dehght 
 of Louis at again beholding her and conversing with her, was 
 clouded by chagrin and anger. He soon became aware that the open 
 and instrusive attentions of the ci-devant conde were licensed by 
 the approbation of the old duke. . 
 
 The dinner passed over quietly enough. JMilitary matters were 
 avoided by all but one little Gascon major, who found it impossible 
 to refrain from detailing to Lisle,with evident exultation, an account 
 of Soult's forcing the passes of Maya and Eoncesvalles on the 25th 
 July, — affairs from which, if the numerical force on each side is con- 
 sidered, but very little honour accrues to France. Encouraged by 
 this applause of his own officers, who were evidently quizzing him, 
 the little Grasgon entertained the company with an account of his own. 
 particular exploits at Maya, where, by his own tale, he had three 
 horses shot under him. One anecdote did not fail to interest Lisle. 
 He stated, that on a party of a Scots regiment (sans culottes), who 
 hurled large stones on the 105th, he took terrible vengeance, by 
 mounting the rock, which they possessed, and putting them to death 
 nith his own hand ! " 
 
 " Sacre !" said he, as he concluded, " Sauve qui petit was the 
 ivord ; but not one of the fierce sans culottes escaped ! " 
 
 Donna Virginia said she would excuse the major his ungenerous 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 353 
 
 triumph, as she believed these were the greatest victories the Frencb 
 had ever won in Spain. The duke frowned ; the count would havo 
 done so too, had gallantry permitted him ; the little major looked 
 big, and twirled up his moustaches ; while his subs, like well-bred 
 cavaliers, laughed as in duty bound, at the young lady's retort. On 
 Lisle inquiring for Donna Olivia, Virginia blushed, and tears 
 glittered in her dark eyes ; while her father replied coldly that she 
 had retired to a convent in Gahcia, but did not add that it was to the 
 monasterio de los Arrepentidas, he had so ruthlessly consigned her. 
 
 As soon as dinner was over, Virginia withdrew, and cigars, wine, 
 and gaming-tables were introduced. The duke and his intended 
 son-in-law sat down to chess, at which they were as great en- 
 thusiasts as the celebrated Don Pedro Carrera himself, while the 
 T'renchmen took to trictrac, and quickly became absorbed in all the 
 mystery of tour a has— tour d'une, &c. &c. ; but Lisle, who had 
 neither money nor inclination to gamble, begged to be excused, and 
 withdrew, receiving as he retired a keen glance from the count, to 
 whom he replied by another of contempt, for rivals soon discover 
 each other. Louis again returned to his solitary promenade on the 
 lower works of the fortress, and continvied to pace among the 
 cannon and pyramids of shot which hned the stockades, until he 
 heard his name called, and by a voice which he should have known 
 amongst ten thousand. " Luiz ! Don Luiz ! " 
 
 " Virginia !" cried he ; and springing to the grated loop at the base 
 of the keep, he kissed the little hand she extended towards him, 
 
 " Eetire now, senor," said she. 
 
 " Ah, why so soon ? " said Louis. " But you must not senor me, 
 — it sounds so distant." 
 
 " Mi querida, then." 
 
 "Ah! that is better. Dear Virginia!" and he kissed her hand 
 again. It was indeed such a hand as one would never tire of holding. 
 So tiny, and so delicate,— and set off by the handsome black bracelet 
 round the slender Avrist. " Why would you leave me so soon, 
 Virginia?" said he, gazing on her beautiful Spanish features. "It 
 is long, — very long since we last met ! " 
 
 " Only a few months, Luiz ; and yet the time does appear very- 
 long. But we maybe observed ; these sharp-sighted French soldados 
 keep guard on every nook, and corner, and my father may hear that 
 I have met you." 
 
 " He is busy over the chess-board ; and no Frenchman would 
 spoil pleasure such as ours." 
 
 " I must indeed leave you. Alas ! 1 am not so free here as at 
 pleasant Aranjuez." 
 
 '"' Hear me, before you go, — but one word, Virginia?'' 
 
 " Well, then, — one only." 
 
 " Who is this Don FeUx,— this Count of Aranjuez ? " 
 
 " You have spoken a dozen, and broken your covenant." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " One of whom we had better beware. He is no more a count than 
 the tambour passing yonder with his drum on his back ; but he is aa 
 false at heart as ever was Eodriguez, or the Counts of Carrion." 
 
 " He is very attentive to you." 
 
 " He is very troublesome, — Santa Maria ! a perfect nuisance. 
 But my father favours him, and as Ins %vTath is terrible, I am forced 
 to dissemble. But, ah ! retire nov/, Don Luiz;. I beseech you ! " 
 
364 THE EOAI.VNCI: Oi- WJlR. 
 
 Don Luiz was 100 much enraptured and bemldered to ol)ey ; and 
 ■nutthi.i,' iu his arm, he eucircied und drew her close to the bars of the 
 loop-liole, through which he pressed his glowing lip to her ov.-n. 
 She yielded to him passively. 
 
 " O senor !'' 
 
 " Senor again ! Ah ! those infernal bars, Virginia," he exclaimed. 
 But releasing herself from his grtusp, she glided aAvay with the 
 lightness of a fairy, and he saw her no more that night. But there 
 was something so delightful in being near Virginia, and living under 
 the same roof with her, that his feelings underwent an entire change 
 before night closed in, and he looked less anxiously towards the 
 distant positions of Lord Wellington's army on the Pyrenees, and 
 the aspect of his prison appeared less chsmal and desolate. The 
 presence of Virginia cast a halo over everything ; and new feelings, 
 of love, hope, and pleasure began to dawn in his heart. 
 
 They met daily, almost hourly indeed, because in the narrow 
 compass of a fortress or barrack, people encounter each other at 
 every turn and corner ; and some weeks passed away with a pleasure 
 to Louis, which nothing seemed to cloud but the chance that 
 Marshal Soult might order the prisoners in the chateau to be con- 
 veyed farther into the interior of the country, as vague rumours 
 were afloat that the allied arniy was about to descend from the 
 mountains ana invade France, it was only from the casual observa- 
 tions of the French officers, at whose mess he often dined, that Lisle 
 was able to gather any political intelhgence, but that something 
 warlike was expected appeared evident. The garrison of the cha+eau 
 was strengthened by a company of chasseurs, additional works were 
 erected, and scarcely a day passed without French troops being seen 
 on tlie march southward ; and it was only when Lisle beheld the 
 clouds of dust and flash of steel appearing on. the distant roads, that 
 he felt himself indeed a prisoner, and all the disagreeable nature of 
 his situation came vividly upon his mind. But again he thought of 
 Virginia, and remembered that a single smile or a soft word from her 
 were well worth all the gloss and glitter of parade, the enthusiasm, 
 the excitement, and the glory of warfare. 
 
 Being the only officer among the prisoners, he always dined with 
 the duke, or at the temporary mess of the French. He preferred 
 the former, to be near Virginia, upon whom the ci-devant count 
 kept a jealous eye, — the penetration of which it required all the 
 young lady's art to baffle ; while, at the same time, it required all her 
 politeness and good nature to enable her to submit to his attentions, 
 which were now becoming, as she often declared to Louis, " quit^ 
 odious and insufferable.'' Her cavalier longed to horsewhip the 
 Spmish traitor for his presumption, and on more than one occa^sion 
 would have given him a morning's airing, — in other words, have 
 " called him out," but for fear of an expose, which he would rather 
 avoid. 
 
 Besides, he had a deeper plot laid, and another object in view. 
 He knew that Vu'ginia dreaded the duke for his stern austerity, as 
 much as he himself despised him for his treason and falsehood to his 
 nati\ Q country ; and he hoped by overcoming her scruples, and pre- 
 Tailiug upon her to consent to a secret marriage, at once to free her 
 A-om the insolent perseverance of Don Felix Joaquin and the au- 
 thority of her father. He had resolved to await some cliange of cir- 
 cumstances, such as the remoYal of the wLole garrison farther into 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 355 
 
 France, or its being strengthened by the arrival of more troops, as 
 the revengeful dispositions of the duke and Joaquin were to be 
 dreaded while he remained so much at their mercy as his situation 
 of prisoner within the narrow limits of the chatelet placed him. 
 The near a])proach of the allies had rendered the extension of his 
 parole impossible; but he soon learned that further delay with time 
 or circumstances was fraught witi danger, and that if he did not at 
 Bnce secure the hand of Virginia, be might lose it for ever. 
 
 Vv'ith a countenance indicative of much discomposure, and eyes 
 red with weeping, she a])peared one evening at the gloated loop-hole, 
 where they usually had a meeting alone after dusk. She had just 
 come from an interview with the duke, who being resolved to carry to 
 the utmost the authority assumed by Spanish papas, had abruptly 
 commanded her to come to a final arrangement with the mercenary 
 conde, or prepare to join her sister in the monasterio. Louis, who 
 had been long wavering in his plans, was at once decided by this in- 
 formation. He prevailed upon her to consent to an elopement, and 
 have that ceremony performed which would place her beyond the 
 power of her father and the views of Don Pelix. To taking such a 
 step, a Spanish damsel has always felt less' scniples than a British, 
 and \\\i\\ abundance of tears, fears, agitation, &c., the donna gave her 
 consent, and I/lsie retii-ed to arrange matters. The greatest diffi- 
 culty was the confounded parole of honour, which tied him to tha 
 chateau. 
 
 In this dilemma he applied to his rival, the count, requesting him 
 to procure leave for him to visit Saint Palais for a day or two, 
 pledging himself solemnly to return within the given time. The 
 Spaniard, although detesting Louis Lisle in his heart, offered readily 
 to befriend him on this occasion — having two ends in view ; first, tc " 
 remove Lisle from the presence of Virginia ; and, secondly, to do so 
 effectually, by sending him to his long home by means ni some of 
 those continental assassins, whose daggers are ever at the service of 
 the highest bidder, Tlirough his interest the duke granted the 
 leave, and long before the break of day Louis and the donna were 
 clear of the fortress, — the duke's written order satisfying the 
 scruples of the sub commanding the barrier-guard. At a village inn 
 hard by they procured horses, and took the road direct for Cambo, 
 where they hoped to fined the cure of the village. The wily count 
 had pre%^ously despatched two of his own servants, Valencians, — 
 rogues who would have sold their chance of salvation for a maravedi, 
 — to ix)st themselves in ambush on the road leading to Saint Palais, 
 whither he believed Lisle t-o liave gone, with orders to shoot him 
 dead the moment lie appeared. 
 
 So full of joy Mas Don Felix at the expected revenge, that he found 
 it impossible to retu-e to rest, and continued to pace his chamber all 
 night. With the utmost exultation he heard the noise of his in- 
 tended \'ictim's departure in the morning, while it was yet dark, anvi. 
 long ere gu n-fire. As tlie challenge of the sentinels and clang of the 
 closing gale echoed through the silent fortress the satisfaction of the 
 Spaniard increased, and he already imagined himself the master of 
 Virginia's broad lands on the Nive, and her rich estates in Valcntia, 
 la Hermosa; and long he watched the road to Saint Palais, in hopes 
 of seeing the death-shot gleam through the darkness. 
 
 An hour elapsed, and he felt certain that the victim must have 
 fellen into the deadly snare ; but his anxiety to behold the com- 
 
356 THE JiOMAWCE of M'AK. 
 
 pletion of his plot would not permit him to delay an instant longer. 
 Ordering a soldier of the fn^iard to saddle his horse, he stuck his 
 pistols into his girdle, drew his hat over his eyes, and muffling 
 liimself in his mantle, he rode forth, — feeling the exhilarating in- 
 fluence of a gallop in the breezy morning air infinitely agreeable, 
 after a night of feverish excitement and drinking in his close chamber. 
 As he approached the spot where he had placed the assassins in 
 ambush, lie hid his face in his mantle, and rode more slowly forward, 
 ■with a beating heart, scanning the roadway in expectation of seeing 
 the corse of his rival stretched upon it. But ne looked in vain ! 
 The winding road between the thickets was clear, and appeared so 
 for many a mile beyond. Enraged to a pitch of madness at the idea 
 of his escape, he dashed the rowels into his horse and galloped on ; 
 when lo ! two carbines flashed from adjacent thickets, — one on each 
 side of the way. A sudden exclamation of rage and agony escaped 
 from him ; his horse reared up wildly, and, pierced by a two-ounce 
 bullet, the worthy Count of Aranjuez and Colmenare de Orija, 
 knight of Calatravaand the Stole, &c. &c. fell to the earth, and almost 
 instantly expired. 
 
 While Don Felix fell thus into his own snare, his more fortunate 
 rival, with Donna Virginia, galloped along the bank of the Nive, 
 pursuing the road to Cambo, where they arrived about sunrise, and 
 sought without delay the house, or rather the cottage, of the village 
 pastor. There fresh obstacles arose, as the reverend gentleman pre- 
 tended to have many conscientious scruples about wedding a 
 Cathohc lady to a Briton and a heretic. But a few gold Napoleons 
 overcame his qualms, and he consented to perform the important 
 ceremony, with a description of which it is needless to tire the 
 reader. Louis had no ordinary task to accomplish, in soothing the 
 hesitation and terrors of Virginia, who was — 
 
 " Crimsoned with shame, with terror mute, 
 Dreading alike escape, pursuit ; 
 llll love, \'ictorious o'er alarms, 
 Hid fears and blushes in his arms." 
 
 There were no witnesses to the ceremony, so important to Louis 
 and his bride, save a stout \T.llager and his wife, who declared that 
 Donna Virginia's black veil and velvet mantilla were contrary to all 
 rule and established custom, as white drapery, pure as the virgin 
 snow, and a coronet of white flowers and orange-buds, formed the 
 hridal garb in Prance. But there was no help for it, and the donna 
 became the Honourable Mrs. Lisle, in her high comb, braided hair, 
 and long black veil, which swept the ground. Louis now remem- 
 bered his father, whose existence he had almost forgotten in the ex- 
 citement of the elopement ; but he well knew that his indulgent 
 relative would pardon the hasty union, considering the circum- 
 stances which urged it, and he longed for the time when he should 
 present to him, and to his sister Ahce, his beautiful Virginia, who, 
 although the daughter of a traitor, was descended from one of the 
 noblest houses in Old Castile. 
 
 The bride was too much agitated to return immediately to the 
 chateau, and to encounter the wrath of that terrible old don her 
 fa;ther, and so they remained that night at the cottage of the pastor 
 af Cambo. 
 
 BarLj next morning Louis was aroused from the couch of his bride 
 
THE EOMANCS OF WAE. 367 
 
 by the sound of Prench drums, near the village. Ho heard them 
 ratthng away at la hats de la retraite (the retreat) ; then succeeded 
 the " long roll," a sound which never fails to rouse a soldier. The 
 noise of distant firing was heard, and he sprung from the side of the 
 hlushing and tremhhng Virginia, and threw open the casement. It 
 was a beautiful morning : the sun shone brightly, and the birds 
 chirped merrily ; the dew was (,'leaming like silver from the branches 
 of the leafless trees ; the sky was clear and blue, and the bold out- 
 lines of the Pyrenees were seen stretching far away in the distance 
 towards Passages and Bayonne. Dense columns of Prench infantry 
 were crowding in confusion along the road which led to the bridge of 
 Cambo, while the sharp-shooters of the advancing allies, hovering 
 on their rear and flanks, kept up an irregular but destructive fire, 
 which their chasseurs, who hned every wall and hedge, endeavoured 
 to return. 
 
 Lisle saw that there was no time to be lost, if he would return to 
 the chateau. The discomfited Prench were pouring across the bridge 
 of Cambo, where a detachment of sapeurs were busy at work, under- 
 mining one of the piers. The main 'i>edy of the allies were already 
 in sight. The green and scarlet uniforms of the light infantry were 
 seen at intervals, appearing and disappearing as they leaped from 
 bush to hedge, and from hedge to wall, firing, and then lying flat on 
 their faces to reload, and avoid the fire of the enemy. Mingled with 
 other sharp-shooters, he beheld the hght company of his own regi- 
 ment, and knew their tall green and black plumes as they floated on 
 the morning wind. Wistfully did Lisle look towards them ; and it 
 was with no ordinary feelings of chagrin that he beheld his friends 
 so near, and yet found himself under the disagreeable necessity of 
 returning to the chateau, where he should be exposed to the insults 
 and vengeance of an intractable old Spaniard, to whom he now stood 
 in the relation of son-in-law. 
 
 Virginia, who was excessively terrified by the noise of the firing, 
 which was now heard around Cambo on all sides, and not less alarmed 
 at the rage and disorder which prevailed among the retreating 
 Prench, with tears and caresses besought Louis to remain unseen in 
 the little cottage of the curate, until the alhes gained possession of 
 the village. But that resolve was impossible. His word was pledged 
 to her father, and he must return — even at the risk of certain death. 
 He prepared without delay to cross the river. On entering the 
 stable to caparison then- horses, he found that the worthy pastor had 
 decamped in the night, taking them with him, and everything of any 
 value, — leaving only a stubborn old mule. Venting a bitter male- 
 diction on the thief, Lisle tied a halter to the long-eared steed, and 
 led him forth into the yard, just as the gate was dashed open by the 
 Prench, whose rear-guard had commenced plundering and destroying 
 the houses, to leave no shelter to the aUies, who were now become 
 invaders of Prance. 
 
 On beholding his red uniform and plumed bonnet, two charged 
 him with their bayonets, which he had barely time to parry with a 
 hay-fork that he hurriedly snatched up. They called upon him to 
 surrender, and he found himself in imminent peril. Virginia was 
 crying aloud from the interior of the cottage for aid, which it was 
 impossible to yield her, as he was hemmed against the bayonets of a 
 dozen soldiers. Prom this disagreeable predicament he was reheved 
 by the interference of an officer who exclaiming, " Eedressez voa 
 
358 THE EOilAI^-CE OF WAE. 
 
 armes, messieurs !" struck down their bayonets \vith his sabre, and 
 compelled them to retii-e. He then asked Lonis, sternly, how he 
 came there. Louis informed him, as briefly and as well as his im- 
 perfect knowledge of Prencli would permit, that he was a prisoner of 
 war on his parole of honour, and vv'as only desirous of crossing the 
 Nive with the French forces. He prayed the rrenchman, as an offi- 
 cer and gentilhomme, to rescue the lady, who v.'as now crying aloud 
 for assistance. The oilicer sheathed his sabre, and rushing into the 
 cottage among the soldiers who thronged it, returned in a minute 
 with Virginia, who was all tears and agitation, leaning on his righc 
 arm, while with true French politeness he carried his Aveather-beaten 
 cocked-hat under his left. He relieved poor Lisle from a state of 
 dreadful suspense, by placing her under liis protection. She v/as 
 nearly terrified out of her senses ; and that she might not be sub- 
 jected to further insult, the ofiicer ordered a corporal brevete, with a 
 file of soldiers, to attend them as a guard. 
 
 Under their friendly escort, Louis at once prepared to leave the 
 village, which was now enveloped in flames and smoke, and involved 
 in tumult and uproar, while the bullets of the British riflemen came 
 whistling eveiy second _ among the crowded streets and blazing 
 rafters. Placing Virginia upon the mule, Avhich the honest curate 
 had left behind him as worthless, Louis led it by the bridle, and 
 pressing into the ranks of the French, crossed the bridge, wliieh was 
 no sooner cleared than the mpeiirs sprung the mine, and it was 
 reduced to ruins in a moment. The firing now ceased, the rapid and 
 swollen state of the Xive rendering pursuit impossible ; and Louis, 
 as he looked back towards Cambo, beheld his own brigade leisurely 
 entering it, — marching along tlie highway, in close column of sub- 
 divisions ; but they v.ere soon hidden in the smoke of the village, 
 which wfis enveloping m a white cloud the whole southern bank of 
 the river. Continuing to lead by the bridle the mule upon which 
 Virginia rode, Louis returned to the chateau, where all was bustle 
 and warlike preparation. The works were bristling vrith bayonets, the 
 guns were all shotted, and the lighted matches smoked beside them. 
 The chasseurs and the two companies of the 105th were under arms, 
 and the little major was bustling up and down, ordering, directing, 
 and quarrelling with all and each ; while his commandant, the duke, 
 looked sullenly around him, scanning through a telescope the advance 
 of the allies. 
 
 The death of the count was as yet unknown, — the assassins, op. 
 discovering their mistake, haring plundered and concealed the body, 
 after which tliey absconded, and were no more heard of for a time. 
 Such was the posture of affairs when Lisle entered the court of the 
 place, where cannon-shot, bomb-shells, and casks of ammunition, lay 
 strewed about in confusion. He had scarcely reached the spot, v/hen 
 he became aware that a scene of high dramatic interest "was about to 
 be enacted. He was rudely seized by two soldiers with their swords 
 drawn, while the duke at the same moment violently dragged his 
 daughter from her saddle, ere Lisle could raise a hand to free her 
 from his grasj). So bitterly was he enraged, that the stern reproaches 
 he hurled against the affrighted and sinking Virginia, and the fierce 
 menaces against Louis, were for some time totally incoherent. 
 
 " False i?/c«ro .' I ^riU have your heart thrown to my dogs for 
 this ! " he exclaimed, gazing at liouis with an eye of ^indictive fury^ 
 
THE .510MANCE OF Yv^AS. 359 
 
 * And as Tor you, most Qracios senora, jou shall join your sister ic 
 the monastevio at Galicia." 
 
 " Stay, my lord ! '" interposed Lisle, becoming ^Tiolenlly excited ; 
 '■ you some\\ hat over-rate your authority in this matter. Slie is no 
 onger under your control, and so unhand her instantly. Come to 
 mo, Virginia ! You are my wedded wife, and no human power can 
 separate us now." The reply of the fierce Spaniard vras a deadly 
 thrust at IjouIs with his sword. Some fatal work would have ensued, 
 had not the little m.ajor struck aside the blade, and desired him to 
 remember that the laws of war must be respected, and ihat Monsieur 
 Lisle was a prisoner of France. Louis's blood boiled within him. 
 while poor Virginia covered her face with her hands, and shrieked 
 aloud to behold her husband and father glaring at each other with, 
 eyes of fLre, until by the command of the latter she was borne away 
 to her chamber in the keep. 
 
 ^ Demonios! major, how did you dare to stay my hand?" asked 
 he. turning furiously to the Frenchman. 
 Parhleu, monsieur le dtic !" 
 
 "Do you suppose I will ever permit the honour of my long- 
 descended house to be stained by the pretensions of a base and dege- 
 nerate fool ? a nameless Briton, par Diez !" 
 
 " Proud Spaninrd \" replied Louis, resentment glowing in his cheek 
 and Idndling in his eye ; " my ancestry were not less splendid than 
 your own ; but mine is the degradation, in allying myself with a 
 traitor like you, who has abandoned his king and country to serve 
 under the banner of a savage invader ! But the virtues of such a 
 woman as Virginia might redeem your whole race from perdition.'' 
 
 " Parhleu .''"' said the major again. 
 
 "And recollect, gentlemen and soldiers," continued Lisle, "that 
 if I am maltreated ])y any mthin these walls, you may all smart for 
 it yet. See you, sirs, the allies axe close at hand, dri\T.ng the boasting 
 soldiers of the Emperor before them as the wind drives the mist, and 
 the whole of Gascony will be theirs before another sun sets," 
 
 " Fresompiion et vanitel" said the major, turning up his ej'es and 
 shrugging his shoulder. "Aha! Les Franqais sont aufait cIk 
 metier de la guerre de terre !" And many officers of the 105 th, who 
 crowded roiuid, laughed heartily, and observed, that probably in a 
 week or two the allies would be Hying for shelter across the Pyrenees. 
 Lisle blessed liis stars that the garrison was not composed entirely of 
 Spaniards ; for, assuredly, the duke would have slain him on the spot 
 but for the firm interference of the French officers. He was, how- 
 ever, put under close arrest, and a sentinel placed over him. The 
 place in which he was confined was a projecting tarret of the out- 
 works, and there he was left to his o^^ti reflections, which were none 
 of the most agreeable. He found himself acting the part of a 
 romantic hero, but certainly little to liis own satisfaction. In the 
 same turret was confined a genuine Teague, a soldier of the SStli 
 regiment, who had been placed in durance for two desperate attempts 
 to escape when the allies appeared in sight. Mister Paddy Mulroony 
 was seated very composedly in a corner, smoking a black pipe about 
 an inch long, while in his cunning but goocU-natured face was seen 
 that droll curl of the mouth and keen twinkling of the eye, which 
 are so decidedly Irish. 
 
 " Och, tearin' murder ! this is a poor case, indeed," said he, spring- 
 
560 THE EOilANCE 
 
 in^ up to attention. " Bad luck to the whole boiling of them ! and 
 is it a cintlemin like yer honner that they are afther traitin' this 
 way ? Never mind, sir ; the alhes— the hand iv Saint Pater be over 
 thi'm ! — are in sight, and may be they Avill bo stormin' this rookery 
 some fine morning, whin, wid the blessin' ov God, we'll see every 
 throat in it cut." 
 
 Lisle was boiling with rage at the treatment to which he was sub- 
 jected ; but that was a shght affair when compared with liis anxiety 
 for Virginia, who was now entirely at the mercy of her father, of 
 whose ferocity and remorseless disposition he had seen several ex- 
 amples. For some time he remained immersed in thought, v/hile he 
 strode hastily backward and forward in the narrow compass of their 
 prison: and it was not until Teague's maledictions became very 
 vehement, that Lisle found he had a companion in misfortune. 
 
 " Well, friend : and what brought you here ?" 
 
 " Eight French spalpeens, sir, and my fortine or misfortine, and 
 that little baste ov a major, bad luck to him ! I was nigh out ov 
 their claws this very mornin', clever and clane ; but they clapped me 
 up here, the ill-mannered bog-trotters ! And sure, it "ud vex ould 
 Moses himself to see the rid coats across the river yonder, and yet be 
 caged up here like a rat in a trap." 
 To what regiment do you belong ?" 
 
 " The Connaught Rangers, yer honner, — the boys that gave Phil- 
 lipon, the old scrawdon, such a fright at Badajoz.'"^ 
 
 " A brave corps. And your name ?" 
 
 "Pat Mulroony. I come from one side of Dublin, where my 
 father has a beautiful estate, wid deer-parks such as ye never saw on 
 the longest day's march. And though it is meself that siz it, there 
 was not a smarter fellow than me in the whole division, from right 
 to left ; no, not one, yer honner ! If you plaze, sir, we may yet give 
 the French — bad cess to them ! — the slip ; and by the mortal ! I'll 
 stand by yer honner like steel, for shure I'd do it for love if for 
 nothin' else ; for the Scots and the Irish were one man's childer in 
 IS'oah's day. In ould ancient forren times, the blessed Saint Patrick 
 himself was a Scotsman, until his bad-mannered countrymen, in a 
 fit of unkindness, cut off his head, and he swam over wid it under 
 his arm to Donaghadee, and became a good Irishman. Often I have 
 heard old Father O'Eafferty at Dunleary tell us of that, when I used 
 to take him home from Mother Macnoggin's wid a dhrop in his eye. 
 He was the broth of a boy, that ould O'Eafferty, and a riglar devil 
 among the girls, for all that he was a praste ; and when the craytur 
 was in, it's little he'd think of giving the best man in his flock a 
 palthog on the ear. But perhaps it's inthrudin' on yer honner I am ?" 
 Louis, though pleased with the fellow's humour, was not in a talking 
 mood. " May my tongue be blisthered if I spake any more to ye, or 
 bother ye in the midst of yer throubles ! " said Pat in conclusion. 
 
 Anxiety and fear for poor Virginia plunged Lisle into deep 
 despondency, and not all the attempts of honest Mulroony could 
 wean him from his melancholy reflections. He could scarcely be in 
 any other than an unpleasant mood, as it was rather annoying for a 
 newly-married man t« spend the tune immediately succeeding his 
 nuptial-day in a stone turret, measuring eight feet by six. Two or 
 thi*ee days passed away, and Louis found considerable satisfaction 
 in the knowledge that Virginia v'as yet near him., — that the walls of 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 361 
 
 the fortress still contained her. He had acquainted his humble 
 friend with his story, and Paddy became more eager than before to 
 serve him ; and vowed, for his sake, to face " either man or devil^ if 
 he had only an opportunity, bad luck to it !" The place in which 
 they were confined was an echauguelte, or small turret, built on au 
 acute angle of a bastion close to the gate of the fortress, and from the 
 loop-holes Louis and his friend kept by turns a constant watch, so 
 that it was impossible for Virginia to be carried off without their 
 knowledge ; and Lisle would probably have become frantic had he 
 seen her departure, which he hourly expected would take place. 
 One night Mulroony was on sentry at the loop-hole, watching the 
 gateway, while Louis slept on the floor. The night was intensely 
 dark, — "one on which ye couldn't see yer nose fornenst ye," as 
 Mulroony liimself said. 
 
 " Bhstheration and blackness be on the day I ever saw ye ! " 
 soliloquized he, as he scanned the castle and its defences. " Shure it 
 ud vex Mister Job, let alone a Connaught Eanger, to be caged up 
 here, shaking at ivery puff of wind, like a dog in a wet sack. Bad 
 cess to them, the spalpeens ov blue blazes ! Och ! how long is this 
 to last at all at all." 
 
 " Senor, — Luiz ! " said a soft voice, close beside the loop-hole. 
 
 "Hubbuboo, tearin' murther! who are you, misthress?" said 
 Mulroony, starting back in dismay as a dark figure, muffled in a 
 hooded mantilla appeared at the loop-hole. " Is it me you're looking 
 for, darlint ? Well thin, honey, it's just right you are, for there i.. 
 not a smarter man in all the Connaught Eangers than Pat Mulroony, 
 — damn the one from right to left ! Ye've jist come to the right 
 shop, honey ; for, at wake or weddin', who was the jeml ov the young 
 ladies Uke Mr. Mulroony ? " . - 
 
 " O madre Maria ! " said poor Virginia, shrinking back in 
 astonishment and grief. Understanding that Louis occupied this 
 turret, she had resolved to pay him a visit, favoured by the darkness 
 of the night and the inattention of her father and the duenna, who 
 were both at that time engaged, — the former at the chess-board -nith 
 the major, and the latter with her mass-book and brandy-bottle , 
 Trembling with affection, fear, and the chill night- wind, which blew 
 roughly on her dehcate frame, she sought the place of Lisle's con- 
 finement ; and great was her dismay at Mulroony's reply, which, 
 although she did not understand, she well knew to be the voice of a 
 stranger; but she implored him in Spanish, por amor de San Jv.aii 
 de JDios, to say where Don Luiz was confined. 
 
 *' Don't be in such a flustheration, honey," said Mulroony, putting 
 out his arms to embrace her. The lady shrunk back indignantly, 
 and it now occurred to the egotistical gentleman to awaken Louis, 
 thinking the visit might be intended for him. 
 
 " I say, sir ! here's something wantin' to spake wid ye. I can't tell 
 what it says, because it spakes like naythur Princhman nor devil, 
 God bless us ! " Louis sprung up. 
 
 " Virginia ! " said he, and gave her his hand through the loop-hole. 
 But she made no reply, save pressing it to her throbbing breast • her 
 heart was too full to permit her to utter anything. 
 
 " Virginia, have you any new distress to tell me of? " 
 
 " O Luiz ! " said she, sobbmg as if her heart would burst, " we 
 meet for the last time." 
 
SG2 THE BOM.^XE OF WAB. 
 
 "How ! '' lift exclaimed in distress and alarm, encircling her with 
 nis arm as if to keep her with him. " Who will dare to separate ua 
 now?" 
 
 " My father. To-morrow I go from this; but whether to Paris or 
 Oalicia, I know not. O Luiz ' his hatred is terrible. But for the 
 intercession of tlie major, you would have been in eternity by this 
 time." The challent^ of a sentinel at the other angle of the bastion, 
 u?id the tread of a foot, now alarmed them. 
 
 " Retire, Virginia, for a moment; 'tis only the patrol, or some 
 affair of that sort. I would not have you discovered here for the 
 ^vorld." She had only time to shrink into a corner, and conceal her- 
 self behind the carriage of a piece of ordnance, when a man 
 approached the turret. It was the corporal of the guard, who usually 
 came every night before the drums beat, to see that the prisoners 
 were all right. The door was of massive oak, studded with iron 
 nails, and while the corporal was undoing its ponderous fastenings, 
 a sudden thought occurred to Lisle. " Be on the alert, Muiroony," 
 said he ; " I will now endeavour to escape, or die in the attempt ! " 
 
 '; K-ight, yer honour ! I'm yer man. Lave nic to dale wid that 
 spalpeen ov a corporal, and by the holy Saint Peter ! I won't lave a 
 whole bone in his skin." 
 
 " Hush ! let us only compel him to give up the watchword, and 
 then we will gag and bind him hard and fast, I need keep faith no 
 longer with those who doubt my parole." 
 
 Tlie unsuspecting Frenchman opened the door and looked in, 
 merely to assure himself that the prisoners were in their cage. 
 "Come in, corporal dear," said Mulroony, grasping him by the throat, 
 and dragging him into the chamber. 
 
 " Sac re — diahle!" growled the astonished Gaul, struggling "svith 
 liis athletic adversary, who tripped up his heels, and in a twinkling 
 laid him on his back, and pressed his knees upon his breast. 
 
 " Och, honey ! don't be in such a devil ov a flustheration ! Give 
 but the smallest cry in life, and it's yer neck I'll be dhrawin' like a 
 pullet's ! " 
 
 "il/erci, motisieiir ! AJi, misericorde ! " gasped the half-strangled 
 soldier. 
 
 '^ Come, movsieur caporal !" said Louis fiercely; " surrender the 
 countersign, or expect such treatment as desperate men may yield 
 you. Slulroony, take your hand from his throat. Answer, French- 
 man, at your peril ! " 
 
 "Marengo ! " replied the other, and commenced immediately to 
 bellow aloud for his comrades ; but his cries were di-owned in the 
 singing of the Aund and noise of the Nive, which rushed over a steep 
 cascade below the bastion. 
 
 " Och, murtber ! it's all over now : he'll bring the whole pack on 
 us wid his schreechin', — the devil dhraw the tongue out ov ye ! 
 Tunder an' oons ! Thurf and blazes ! what's this he is after now ? " 
 
 Paddy soon discovered that, and to his cost. The corporal, on 
 getting one hand free, drew his bayonet, and plunged it into the arm 
 of his antagonist, who no sooner found himself wounded, than he 
 broke into a tremendous storm of passion. Thundering out one of 
 those formidable curses which come so glibly from an Irish tongue, 
 he wrested the v/enpon from the Frenchman, and buried it tA\'ice in 
 his breast. All this passed in less than a ndnute, and the French- 
 man expired witliout a groan. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 363 
 
 '"^ Muli'oony, have you killed him?" asked Louis, considerably 
 e::(;ited. 
 
 " Deed have I, sii-,— the murderin' villyan ! " answered the other 
 <x)niposedly. 
 
 '• Poor i'ellow ! I had no intention that he should be slain. He 
 ->yas but doing iiis duty." 
 
 "Apurty thing, to make sich a moan for a spalpeen iv a Prencher" 
 answered the Irishman testily. 
 
 " Our lives are now indeed forfeited, if we cannot escape. Virginia!" 
 He went from the turret to vvliere she sat in a sort of stupor with 
 cold and terror, and in a few words informed her that they must 
 escape now, or be for ever lost. 
 
 " iiluc blazes, sii* ! " bawled Paddy from the turret door ; " is it 
 the wimmen ye're afther ? Is tliis a time to go making love ? 
 Musha ! musha ! sure there's always mischief where they are." 
 
 " Quick now, Mulroony,— follow us ! " said Louis, who encircled 
 Virginia with his arm to support her. "We have not a moment to 
 lose. Heaven grant me firmness now ! " 
 
 Armed with the bayonet, and grumbling curses at the blood which 
 was flowing freely from his arm, Mulroony followed Lisle and the 
 lady to the barrier-gate, where two sentries were posted. The night 
 was dark and black, and a dismal wind howled between the works 
 and embrasures. The sentinels kept v^thin their turrets, and every- 
 thing seemed favourable to their escape. 
 
 " Qui vive ?" challenged one fellow at the gate. Louis hesitated a 
 moment, — and the British reply " Priend," almost escaped his lips. 
 
 " Behehub ! Qui va la 1" cried the gate- ward, again striking the 
 butt of his fire-lock on the sentry-box floor. 
 
 " Make some answer, or vre are undone," whispered Virginia, as 
 she clung in terror to the arm of Louis, who, still advancing towards 
 the gate, replied in a feigned voice — 
 
 " Caporal, hors de la garde." 
 
 " Aha 1 " repUed the sentinel, coming from hLs box. " Acance^ qui 
 a Vordre." 
 
 "Maeengo," replied Louis. 
 
 " Passe, mon ami" replied the soldier, returning to his box. His 
 suspicions were lulled, and they gained the gate without further 
 molestation, the darkness of the night rendering their figures so 
 indistinct that it was impossible for the sentinels to discover them. 
 The barrier was composed of strong planks, through which a little 
 wicket was cut. 
 
 " How fortunate ! " said Lisle ; " the passage is open, and the 
 drawbridge down. We are free, and shjul soon be safe among the 
 JBritish troops." 
 
 " Huisht, plaze yer honner ; its hearin' us they'll be ! Be aisy. 
 Help out the lady : will you lane on my arm, too, mem ? " 
 
 " Senor ? " She did not understand him. 
 
 An exclamation in Spanish caused them all to start. "Dios mio ! 
 my father ! " shrieked Virginia, as an oflicer outside the gate sprung 
 Ibrward and drove hi? sword through the body of the brave Mulroony, 
 who fell mortally wounded, while the guard and sentries came running 
 from all quarters to the spot. Louis found himself again a prisoner, 
 and when on the very brink of freedom. 
 
 "Bring a lantern ! " exclaimed the duke, whom Lisle's evil genius 
 had brought to the gate, but on what errand he never discovered. 
 
354 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 " Bring a light, and let us see what soldier of the Emperor is base 
 enough to assist prisoners to escape, I surely heard French spoken 
 l3y some one.*' 
 
 The drummer of the guard held a lantern to Lisle's face, and his 
 scarlet coat, when it appeared in the hght, caused every brow to 
 lour. The countenance of the duke turned pale when he beheld him. 
 His eyes glistened like those of a sen^ent, as he gazed alternately 
 upon him and A^irginia, who, in an agony of horror, sunk down at 
 his feet, close to the body of the gallant Irishman, vrhose features 
 were now becoming rigid in deatli. He had expired almost imme- 
 diately after receiving the thrust of the Spaniard's sword. 
 
 At that moment a soldier came hastily forward, saying that the 
 corporal of the guard lay murdered in the turret from which the 
 prisoners had escaped, and a volley of threats and execrations broke 
 from the men of the 105th, who crowded round. 
 
 " Aha ! " said the Gascon major, pressing forward. " Is it thus 
 you slay the soldiers of the Emperor ? You shall smart for this 
 night's work. Monsieur Mibaud ! " 
 
 Do you dare to apply such an epithet to me?" rephed Lisle 
 furiously, spurning the Gascon vni\x his foot, and struggling to free 
 his arms, which were tightly grasped by the soldiers, 
 
 " Bind up his eyes, some of ye, and let him be instantly shot ! 
 Give not a moment for prayer or supphcation. "We will have life for 
 life, — blood for blood ! " cried the Spaniard. 
 
 " Base renegade ! I scorn youi' malice, and defy you to terrify me," 
 cried Louis, regardless of all consequences, and from despair gather- 
 ing a courage wliich gained him the admiration of the French, though 
 it Avon froni them no mercy. The little major was foaming with 
 exasperation at the insult he had received, and made no longer any 
 intercessions. The private soldiers, who Avere enraged at the death, 
 of their comrade, eyed him likewise in malignant silence, Virginia 
 was borne away senseless, and Lisle gazed sadly after her, until he 
 was startled by the sharp words of command given coolly by a serjeant 
 to sis soldiers, who were picked out to become his executioners. 
 For a moment his heart grew sick and sunk within him, when he 
 thought of his home and of those brave comrades who were only a 
 few miles distant. But he scorned to ask mercy from the duke, from 
 the father of Virginia, who by the hght of a huge lantern (which 
 cast a dull flickering hght on the dark groups of armed soldiers, and 
 still darker walls of the fortress) watched the preparations made by 
 the firing party with steady gravity and coolness. 
 
 " Chargez vos armes !" cried the serjeant, " Frenez la cartouche I 
 Amorcez ! L'arme a gauche ! " &c., and the noise of the steel ram- 
 rods ringing in the barrels as the cartridges were rammed home, fell 
 like a knell upon the ears of Louis. He certainly grew pale, but his 
 heart never quailed as he looked upon the loading of the muskets. 
 He resolved to die w ith honour to his character and the garb he wore. 
 At that moment, so critical to him, a French cavalry officer, on a 
 panting horse, dashed up to the gate at full gallop, inquiring with all 
 the hurry and importance of an aide-de-camp for the commandant 
 of the place, 
 
 " Monsieur le Due" said he, "the alhesare in motion : their troops 
 have begun to cross the Nive, and Marshal Soult desires that you 
 will be on the alert, and defend the ford, under the gims of this 
 chateau, to the last." Without waiting for an answer, he wheeled 
 
THE EOMANCE OP WAR. 3(>& 
 
 round iiis horse and galloped out of sight in a moment. The clatter 
 of the hoofs had scarcely died away, before two of the sentinels, 
 posted on the bastion overlooking the ford, fired their muskets. A 
 volley replied, hghting up the whole fortress for an instant, and all 
 became hurry and confusion. Louis Wc^s thrust into his old place of 
 confinement, — the castle-gates were se<,ured, — the bridge was drawn 
 'jp, and in five minutes every man was at his post. From the inmost 
 recesses of his heart Lisle thanked Heaven for his narrow escape ; 
 and while in the close compass of his prison he listened to the boom- 
 ing cannon and musketry, which shook the ancient fabric to^ its 
 foundations, he earnestly prayed that the attack would be successful ; 
 and he well knew, by the hearty British cheers which from time to 
 time came ringing on the wind, even above the noise of the conflict, 
 that his comrades were carrying all before them. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 PASSAGE OF THE NIVE. 
 
 An order having been issued for a general attack on the enemy's 
 position at the Nive, on the morning of the 9th of December, an 
 hour before daybreak, the allied army got under arms, in high spirits 
 and glee at the prospect of fighting monsieur on his own ground, 
 and prosecuting their victorious career still further into France. 
 But as it is not my puri^ose to give an account of that brilliant afiair, 
 I will confine myself to the adventures of our friends. In Stuart's 
 quarter, or billet, — a miserable and half-ruined cottage, — the officers 
 who were to be under his command on a certain duty, sat smoking 
 cigars and carousing on the common wine of the country, until the 
 signal " to arms" was given. The party consisted of his own subs, — 
 of Blacier and a Spanish captain, Castronuno, a tall and sombre 
 cavalier, lank, lean, and bony, and who might very well have passed 
 for the Knight of La Mancha, Their supper consisted of tough 
 ration came (beef), broiled over the fire on ramrods, and eaten with- 
 out salt, — an article which was always so scarce, that a duro would 
 have been given for a teaspoonful. This poor fare Blacier improved 
 by swallowing an ample mess of chopped cabbage and vinegar, and 
 by pufling assiduously at his oneerschaum. After having stuffed 
 nimself until belt and button strained almost to starting, he deposited 
 in his havresack a quantity of spare bread and meat for his breakfast. 
 Dastronuno, who had been observing his gluttony with quiet wonder, 
 recommended him to eat his breakfast then, as it would save trouble 
 on the morrow. This advice Stuart enforced by adding, that he 
 might be knocked on the head before day broke, and perhaps all his 
 good provender would go to swell some other man's paunch. 
 
 " Mein Gott !" groaned the German, " vat you say is right. I 
 veel eat vile I can. Hagel ! onein Serr, you hab gibben de soond 
 advice." And he commenced a fresh attack on the viands, and 
 quickly transferred them from the havresack to his distended stomach. 
 He had scarcely finished, and let out four holes in his sword-belt, 
 before the sharp Celtic visage of Serjeant Macrone was seen peering 
 through the clouds of tobacco-smoke, as he informed Stuart, " Tat 
 ta lads were a' standin' to their airms on the plain stanes," 
 
 IL 2b 
 
386 THE BOMAXCE OP WAIl. 
 
 It was then an hour before daybreak, p.ncl the sky was dark and 
 ploomy. Stuart noiselessly paraded his iroops — the *' light-bobs," 
 Blacier s riflemen, and Castronuno's Spaniards, and moved up the 
 banks of the stream, to execute the duty assigned to him. This was 
 t^') carry by storm the castle of the Nive, that the troops in its imme- 
 diate neighbourhood might be enabled to cross by the ford, the 
 i)aisage of Avhich was swept by the guns of the fortress. The day 
 preceding the projected assault, Ronald and Blacier made a recon- 
 n oissance of the place, and found that there was no other method 
 ii ut to ford the river below the neighbouring cascade, and caiTying 
 the outer defences by storm, trusting to Heaven and their o-wn 
 hands for the rest, as the tall keep might be defended against 
 musketry for an age, unless a piece of cannon was brought to bear 
 upon it. 
 
 At the time mentioned, an hour before dawn, the whole of tlio 
 troops in and about Cambo were under arms, and the signal to cross 
 was to be the storming of the chateau. The compauies destined to 
 effect this dangerous piece of service marched up the bank of the 
 Kive a few miles, and, favoured by the intense darkness, halted im- 
 mediately opposite to the scene of action among some olive-trees, 
 which were, however, bare and leafless. There a consultation v/as 
 held, and it was determined to proceed forth-^nth. All ai)peared still 
 within the chat<3au. The sentries on the bastions and palisades were 
 seen passing and repassing the embrasures, but the noise of their 
 tread was drowned in the rush of the cascade, which poured furiously 
 over a ledge of rock a few yards above the fort, and plunged into 
 a deep chasm, from which a constant cloud of spray arose. Desiiing 
 Evan Bean Iverach to keep close by his side, Eonald, with a section 
 of twelve picked Highlanders carrying three stout ladders, led the 
 way. Under the command of Evan Macphcrson, the rest of the 
 company followed close upon his heels, with their bayonets pointing 
 forward, and every man's hand on the lock of his musket. Old 
 Blacier. whc was as brave as a lion, notwithstanding all his oddities, 
 prepared to mount the works by escalade a little further up the 
 stream, where his riflemen were in imminent danger of being 
 drenched by the spray of the waterfall. Two companies of the 18th 
 Spanish corps of the line were to form a reserve, under the command 
 of Den Alfonso de Castrommo.' 
 
 " Now then, lads,'' said Ilonald, while his heart leaped and his 
 breath came thick and close, for the moment was an exciting one, 
 "keep up your locks from the stream, and look well to your priming, 
 —though we must trust most to butt and bayonet." 
 
 " Qui. va Id .'" challenged a sentinel. 
 
 " You'll soon find that out, my boy," cried Stuart, brandishing his 
 STVord. " Forward ! Gordon Highlanders. Hurrah ! " 
 
 " Demeu7'ez Id !" cried the Gaul in dismay, vv'hile he fired his piece 
 in concert vnih three or four others. A Highlander fell in the 
 stream wounded, and was sucked into the linn, where he perished 
 instantly. His comrades let fly a rattling volley, and pressed boldly 
 forward. The water rose nearly to their waists, but the Celts had 
 an advantage over their comrades in trousers. Raising the thick 
 tartan folds of their kilts, they crossed the river, keeping all their 
 clothing, the hose excepted, perfectly dry. 
 
 The Nive, at the place where they crossed, was several j^ards vride, 
 and the current, on the surface of which some pieces of thin ice floated* 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. CGT 
 
 was intensely cold: but the hardy Highlanders pressed onward, 
 grasping each other by the hand, and crossed safely, but not without 
 several unlooked-for delays. The bed of the river "was pebbly^ 
 slippery as glass, and full of holes, which caused them to stumble 
 every moment, and a scaling-ladder was nearly carried away by the 
 stream. The rocks were steep and precipitous, rising to the height 
 of several yards abruptly from the water. The ladders were planted 
 among the pebbles ; and when one point of the rock was gained, they 
 .nad to draw them up before they could reach another, and so arrive 
 at the foot of the sloping bastion, which was now bristling with 
 "bayonets. By the time the escalade approached the outworks, every 
 soldier in the chateau was at his post, and the cannon had begun to 
 belch their iron contents, which, however, passed harmlessly over 
 the heads of the assailants. The fierce northern blood of the latter 
 was now roused in good earnest, and their natural courage seemed 
 only to receive a fresh stimulus from the din of war around them. 
 
 Accustomed from infancy to climb like scjuirrels, the Scotsmen 
 clambered up the rocks, grasping weeds and tufts of grass, — finding 
 assistance and support v;here other men would have found none ; 
 and in less space of time than I take to record it, they Avere ail 
 at the base of the bastion. 
 
 "Up a.nd on! Forward, my brave Highland hearts?" cried 
 Bouald Stuart, springing recklessly up the perilous ladder, waving 
 his sword, and feeling in his mind the wild — almost mad, sensations 
 of chivalry and desperation, which no man can imagine save one 
 who has led a forlorn hope. " Death or glory ! Hurrah ! the place 
 is our own ! " At that moment a twenty-four pounder was run 
 through the embrasure and discharged above his head. It was so 
 close, that the air of the passing ball almost stunned him ; he felt 
 the hot glow of the red fire on his cheek, and the deadly missile 
 whistled over his bonnet, and boomed away into the darkness. 
 Several fire-balls were tossed over the works by the French. These 
 burned with astonishing brilliancy and splendour Vv'herever they 
 alighted, — even in the middle of water, Avhere they roared, sputtered, 
 and hissed like devils, but would not be quenched until they burned 
 completely away. 
 
 Those which fell upon the rocks sen-ed to reveal the storming-party 
 to the deadly aim of the defenders, and at the same time added to 
 the singularity, the picturesque horror of the scene, by the alternate 
 glares of red, blue, and green light which they shed upon the castled 
 rock, the bristling bastions, the rushing river, the gleaming arms, and 
 the bronzed features of men, whose hearts the excitement of the 
 moment had turned to iron. Unluckily, the first ladder planted 
 against the breastwork broke, and the men fell heavily down. 
 
 Enraged at this discomfiture, Stuart leaped \i\) the rocks again, 
 though drenched with water, — but blows had been already inter- 
 changed. A second ladder had been planted by Macpherson, who 
 leaped into an embrasure at the very moment a cannon was discharged 
 through it, and he nan'owly escaped being blown to pieces. With 
 charged bayonets the resolute Highlanders poured in after him in 
 that headlong manner which was never yet withstood, and a fierce 
 conflict ensued, foot t« foot, and hand to hand. From their lack of 
 muscular power, the French are ever at disadvantage in such strife ; 
 and although many of the assailants v>'ere forced over the parapet 
 and slain, the outworks were entirely captured m a few minutesL 
 
 2 B 2 
 
368 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 The Germans under old Blacier, who led them on with, his sabre ia 
 one hand and his meerschaum in the other, effected an entrance at 
 one angle, while the Spanish officer commanding the reserve bravely 
 carried another, finding it impossible to restrain liis soldiers, whose 
 triumphant shout of " Santiago y Espana ! Viva I" struck the 
 I'Vench with dismay. Finding themselves attacked successfully on 
 three points, they became distracted, and were driven tumultuously 
 from bastion and paHsade, after which their own cannon vv^ere 
 wheeled round on them. Nevertheless they fought with the chival- 
 rous courage of old France. The top of the keep was lined with 
 ■.ihasseurs, who madly continued to pour down an indiscriminate fire 
 jf musketry on friends and foes, and the barbican was full of blood 
 and corpses in five minutes. Brilliant fire-balls were also cast over, 
 and the glare thrown by them on the bloody earth, the flashing 
 weapons and powder-blackened visages of the combatants, produced 
 an effect never to be forgotten by a beholder. 
 
 Poor Blacier, who had been shot through the lungs at the moment 
 he entered the court, buried his sabre among the enemy and crawled 
 away into a corner, where he smoked composedly as he bled to death, 
 — or at least appeared to smoke. The Gascon major of the 105th 
 was encountered by Alfonso de Castronuno, who at the second bloW' 
 laid him dead at his feet, but almost at the same moment the 
 Spaniard himself expired: a shot had passed through his heart. 
 Remembering Louis Lisle, and animated by a bitter hatred against 
 all who wore the same garb, the duke, with his cloak rolled round 
 his left arm and accoutred with sword and dagger, leaped among the 
 Highlanders, calhng on the French to follow ; but no man obeyed. 
 He would have been instantly bayoneted but for Eonald, who was the 
 first man he encountered, and who ordered the soldiers to leave them 
 hand to hand. In avoiding the duke's stiletto, Stuart stumbled over 
 the corse of Castronuno, and would hpve been instantly despatched, 
 but for the crossed bayonets of a dozen soldiers. 
 
 " Save him ! " cried Stuart. * Macpherson ! Evan Bean ! take 
 him alive." 
 
 "Haud!" cried Iverach sternly. "Stand, ye black son o' the 
 devil ! Back — back ! or my bayonet's through ye in a twinkling." 
 But the furious Spaniard spat upon him in the bitterness of his 
 fury, and the next moment his blood was reeking on Evan's weapon. 
 He fell prone to the earth, and even while he lay choking in blood, 
 he continued to curse and spit at the conquerors, until the Spaniards 
 destroyed him by trampling him to death. The moment he fell, the 
 French surrendered, after being hemmed into a corner, and finding 
 it impossible to maintain the conflict longer. On both sides the 
 slaughter was very great, and upwards of two hundred lay killed in 
 the court or bar&ican. The chasseurs on the top of the keep did not 
 yield until threatened that the place would be blown up ; on which 
 they laid down their arms, and joined the other prisoners, who 
 formed'a sullen band, ranked in a corner and guarded by the 
 Spaniards, for whom they showed their scorn and contempt so 
 openly, that three or four were killed. 
 
 Many of the captives were mere boys, poor conscripts, who only a 
 month before had been compelled to resign the shovel for the 
 musket; and some were the old and high-spirited soldiers of the 
 Emperor, — stern fellows, with bronzed and scarred cheeks, rough 
 moustaches., and mouths black with the cartridges they had bitten. 
 
THE EOMAIJCE OF -WAE. 869 
 
 They looked around them with an air of haughty pride, defiance, 
 and nonchalance, which only a Frenchman can assume under such 
 circumstances. When daylight dawned, Blacier was found lying 
 dead. When last seen alive, he was sitting philosophically watching 
 the pool formed by his blood ; and thus he expired with his pipe in 
 his mouth, an inveterate smoker to the last. 
 
 " Keep order among the prisoners ! " cried Stuart, on the occasion 
 of a brawl ensuing between them and the Spaniards. " Your fellows 
 must restrain their national animosity, — just now, at least," added he 
 firmly, to the Spanish lieutenant commanding the escort. 
 
 " Bueno ! but how am I to do it ? See you, senor," said the 
 Spaniard, " how the Prenchmen spit upon and upbraid them, as i'' 
 they were so many Moors or Portuguese ? Virgin del Filar ! i 
 would hew them down to ribbons, but for the contrary order of senoi 
 the great Capitan General, — the Duke of Vittoria." 
 
 " Stay, senor," said Stuart ; " one should treat with generosity a 
 conquel*ed enemy." 
 
 " On my honour, capitan" replied the other, " old Cuesta would 
 have had them all swimming down the Nive, had he commanded 
 here." 
 
 " Holloa, Stuart," cried Macpherson ; " come this way ! Here is 
 another uproar. Never mind the prisoners; one might as well 
 sing psalms to a dead horse, as speak of generosity to a Spaniard." 
 
 Their attention was arrested by the report of a musket; and 
 hurrying to where the sound came from, tliey found several High- 
 landers engaged in beating down the door of a turret. This opera- 
 tion Iverach shortened, by applying his musket and blowing the 
 lock to pieces, — a perilous exploit for the inmate, who narrowly es- 
 caped being shot through the body. Evan next applied his shoulder 
 to the shattered barrier, and burst it open. 
 
 " Maister Lisle o' the Inch-house ! Hurrah ! How happy I am 
 to see you. Od, this dings a' !" he exclaimed in breathless astonish- 
 ment, as Lisle issued from his place of confinement. 
 
 '■' Ha ! Louis," cried Stuart, grasping his hand in wonder. " Is it 
 possible that they treat you in this unworthy manner, caging you up 
 in a place Hke a dog-kennel ? I thought you were enjojing yoiu*self 
 on parole in Prance ?" 
 
 " No, faith ! I have been locked up like a gaol-bird in Pampeluna, 
 and other infernal places, ever since that unlucky affair at Puente 
 Duenna ; and yet, after all, I do not regret it." 
 ' Indeed !" 
 
 " Why, you have yet to learn. But where is Yirginiai — Virginia 
 deAlba?" 
 
 " How on earth should I know, Louis. 'Tis an odd question ; but 
 her father's blood, the fierce old villain ! is yet red on Evan's 
 ba.vonet." 
 
 A^Tiat is this you tell me?" said Lisle frowning. " Was the 
 duke slain?" 
 
 '■ He fell in the assault," replied Macpherson, " and thus escaped 
 the axe, the garrote, or a volley through the back, — all of which he 
 so well merited." 
 
 " Stay, Macpherson ! " interrupted Lisle, so angrily that the other 
 was indignant. " I will not hear him spoken of thus. He has gone 
 to liis last account, — so rail against him no more. Truly, he deserves 
 httle pity from me, for I have suffered much at h"f .b.ands ; but that 
 
SrO THE BOMAXCE OP WAE, 
 
 you v.ill all know .another time. Virginia! Virginia! for Heaven's 
 sake tell me something about her !" 
 
 " I neVer heard aught of the lady since we were last at Aranjuez ; 
 but I hope the c/-c/era«^ abbess Is well, notwithstanding the dements 
 of her tierce and treacherous father. Your hand again, Louis ! My 
 dear fellow, I congratulate you on your freedom. All are well at 
 Inchavon, and — but meantime duty must be attended to." And, 
 ^cnorantof the cause of Lisle'.s deep anxiety, he turned away, crying. 
 Holloa, JIacrone ! "Where is that confounded old humbug ktiter- 
 ing ? In the spirit-store, likely. Ah ! get the company under arms, 
 and let the piper blow the gathering." 
 
 " I trust in Heaven that the towei: yet contains her !" exclaimed 
 Lisle. " I will find her, or be guilty of some desperate thing. Follow 
 mo Evan, and some of you, my true old comrades ! The keep is full 
 of Spaniards and Germans, who are wont to be unscrupulous enough, 
 when heated by the fury of an assault. Forward, Highlanders ! \Ve 
 will ransack the prison-house, and a score of dollars shall be his who 
 finds the lady!" 
 
 He snatched up the sword from the dead hand of Castronuno, and, 
 followed by a few soldiers, rushed up the stairs of the keep, and 
 sought at once the boudoir, or apartment of Virginia, whom he found 
 in the act of surrendenng her bracelets and rings to a cazadore, 
 who had terrified her to extemity by liis oaths and menaces. The 
 Spaniard was a powerful Asturian, but Louis grashed hun by his 
 black cross-belts, and hurled him down stairs like an infant, for rage 
 supplied liim with unusual strength. Virginia clasped hira in her 
 arms, and hung weeping and sobbing bitterly ; while Eonald Stuart 
 and his heutenant, Evan IMacpherson, who had followed Louis up 
 stairs, stood for a few moments at the door, unwilhng to intrude 
 upon them. 
 
 As she hung thus drooping on Lisle's breast, although less gaily 
 attired than when at the Aranjuez ball, Virginia yet looked surpass- 
 ingly beautiful. She had no veil or comb, and the massive braids of 
 her dark-brown hair hung free and loose over her pale cheek and 
 delicate blue-veined neck, of which rather more than usual was dis- 
 played, in consequence of the disorder of her dress. Her attendant 
 had been preparing her for bed at the moment the a.ssault took 
 place ; and w^ant of sleep, together with the terror and anxiety under 
 which she had been labouring, rendered her paler than usual. Tears 
 were rolling fast from the long lashes which shaded her light hazel 
 eyes, but they only made her more bemtching. 
 
 An exclamation of surprise, which Eonald found it impossible to 
 restrain, caused her to start and blush deeply, for her arms, feet, and 
 ankles were bare, and her graceful attire was all in disorder ; but she 
 threw her veil and mantiUa instantly around her. 
 
 " There are none here but friends, Virginia," said Louis, to re- 
 assure her ; and he introduced her to Eonald and Macpherson as 
 '■'the Honourable Mrs. Lisle." 
 
 " Is it possible ?" exclaimed Stuart. " How fortunate— how happy ? 
 I have a thousand pardons to ask, Louis, for treating your anxiety so 
 lightly. Allow me to congratulate you — " 
 
 " And me too. Lisle, okffellow," added Macphenson. " I wish j'-ou 
 all joy, but I cannot pay my respects to the donna, because my 
 Spanish, wlii ;h is none of the best, always turns into Gaelic, and 
 never comes glibly to my tongue until after sunset." 
 
THE EOMAllfCE OF WAE. fi/l 
 
 " O senores ! " said the lady, " such ^ night of horrors this has 
 neeii ! I heard all the dreadful conflict above, beneath, and around 
 me,— and, Holy ]Mother Mary ! I shall never forget it, I looked but 
 once from my mndow, and the scene of the night assault will never 
 be effaced from my remembrance. O 'tis a feari'ul thing to see men 
 fighting for death and life, and destroying each other lik-e uild beasts 
 or demons ! But where is the duke ? Have you not seen him, senor 
 cavaliers ? Oh, search for my father, and bring him instantly to me, 
 that I may be assured of his safety."' 
 
 " Alas ! senora," answered Stuart, " I regret — I fear we cannot 
 gratify you in this matter — " 
 
 " Holy Virgin !" she faltered. " CahaUero, you mean not to tell 
 me that my father is no more, — that yo^3iV soldados have slain liirn ?'' 
 She spoke m a voice of eAC|[uisite tenderness, and laid her fair hand 
 on Eonald's arm, grasping it tightly, and he gazed on her witii some 
 confusion. Her bright eyes were full of fire, and seemed to search 
 his lieart for an answer, while her half-i)arted lips disiilayed a fair set 
 of brilliant teeth. '"' Nohls Official ! tell me if my father lives," she 
 added, bursting into tears. 
 
 " I fear the duke has escaped," replied Eonald, unwilling to afflict 
 her by reveahng tlie truth ; for, notwithstanding the duke's stern- 
 ness and severity, she had always tenderly loved him. " He must 
 have escaped, senora, as I have not seen him since the place was 
 stormed. He must have fled." 
 
 " No, cavalier. My father would perish rather than fly," said the 
 young lady indignantly. He comes of a race whose blood' has fallen 
 on a thousand fields, but never from the veins of a coward." 
 
 " Pardon, gracios se-nora, I meant not to say that he had lied, but 
 only retreated," said Stuart. " But pray excuse me for a moment, 
 as my presence is reciuircd below." He retired with the intention of 
 ordering the body of the ignoble duke to be looked after, that it 
 might not shock the eyes of his daughter ; but the soldiers of Alfonso 
 de Castrouuno had beforehand disposed of it in a summary manner. 
 In the intensity of their hatred, they tied a few cannot-shot to the 
 body and tossed it into the chasm at the bottom of the cascade, where 
 it could never be found again. The troops engaged in the capture 
 of the chateau remained there for the ensuing day, during the whole 
 of wliich firing was heard along the line of the Nive. With their 
 usual success, the allies crossed the river in triumph, and drove the 
 troops of Soult before them pell-mell. 
 
 After his horse had been shot under him, Fassifern fought on foot, 
 and four times led his victorious Highlanders on to the charge, sword 
 in hand, and four times successively the stubborn masses of the 
 enemy gave way before them. But the Celtic impetuosity was not 
 to be resisted. Their black plumes Avere seen dashing on through 
 bayonets, blood, and smoke, as they hurled the columns of the French 
 before them as clouds are driven by the gale. Every regiment dis- 
 guished itself, and many charged desperately %vitli the bayonet. 
 
 Even old Dugald Mlior, animated by the gallant example of his 
 master, forgot his white hairs and failing powers, and distinguished 
 himself by his prowess, and by the address with which he unhorsed 
 and captured a Trench staff-officer. 
 
 ****** 
 
 On the 2rth of February, 1814, the aUies gained tho battle ot 
 Orthez —a victory which was succeeded by the passages of the Adour 
 
S72 THE EOilANCE OF WAE. 
 
 and Giironne, and by the most signal defeat of the Duke of Dalmatia 
 before Toulouse, on Easter Sunday, the 10th of April. 
 
 Many of the British regiments suffered severely. The gallant 61st 
 were reduced to scarcely nfty men, I believe ; and the Gordon High- 
 landers were also roughly handled by the enemy. Stuart was 
 wounded, and he lost many of the friends who survived the fatal 
 battles of the Pyrenees, and among them was Evan Iverach, the 
 faithful and affectionate young fellow who had become a soldier for 
 nis sake, abandoning his home, his sweetheart, and his aged father, 
 and Avho had followed and served him with the love of a younger 
 brother, the respect of a vassal, and the disinterested devotion of a 
 Highlander. 
 
 The light companies had been thrown forward as skirmishers, and 
 Stuart's fell into a sort of ambush formed by the enemy, who poured 
 a destructive fire upon them. Lieutenant Evan Macpherson was 
 killed, and a ball passed through the breast of Iverach, which laid 
 him prostrate on the turf. He had previously been wounded in the 
 left knee, but he had refused to retire from the field, protesting that 
 he would fight while he had breath left in his body. Thrown into 
 disorder by this unexpected volley, the company retired, and Eonald, 
 as he staggered about confused by the concussion of a rifle-ball which 
 grazed his left temple, heard the deep moans of pain which were 
 uttered by poor Iverach. Eegardless of the French fire, he rushed 
 forward, and raising him in his arms, bore him off in the face of the 
 foe, who suspended their firing on witnessing the action, which 
 gained Eonald the love and esteem of every soldier who beheld it. 
 Two Highlanders soon relieved him of ms burden, and carried 
 Iverach, who was enduring great agony, to a place which was secure 
 from the bullets of the enemy's riflemen. He was laid at the back 
 of a stone wall, which formed the boundary of a meadow or field. 
 The first thing he cried for was water ; and Stuart, filling his can- 
 teen in a muddy ditch, the only place from which he could procure 
 it, held it to the hot quivering lips of the sufierer, who, after he had 
 dbrunk greedily, expressed much more concern to behold blood trick- 
 ling from Eonald's temple, than for the probable issue of his own 
 wound. Whenever he spoke, he was almost sufibcated with his own 
 blood ; and ceasing the attempt, he leaned his head against the wall, 
 anc\ while tears trickled over his face, gazed with an eye of intense 
 affection upon his master, who knelt down beside him, and as gently 
 as a mother would have done, unclasped his accoutrements and 
 opened his coat, that he might breathe more freely. 
 
 Stuart, the assistant-surgeon, who had been sitting opportunely on 
 the other side of the wall, ready for action, -with his case of instru- 
 ments displayed around him like a pedlar's wares, whispered in 
 Ronald's ear with most medical composm-e, " It is all over with him, 
 poor fellow ! Eejoin your company before Cameron misses you : 
 Iverach "oill die in ten minutes." 
 
 " I cannot leave him," said Stuart, deeply distressed. '"' Oh, cannot 
 you do something for him ? I would yield all I possess on earth to 
 save Evan's life. 
 
 " He is bleeding more internally than outwardly, and were I to 
 attempt tG stop the discharge of blood from his mouth and breast, he 
 would be instantly sufibcated." 
 
 " D— nation, Dick," said Eonald angrily, " and will you leave liim 
 to die?* 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAH. 373 
 
 " He Avill die without my assistance : on my honour^ I can do no- 
 thing ! He is p«st my skill, and I have other work on hand. See 
 how the wounded are pouring down from the height ! 1 must indeed 
 leave you," 
 
 He snatched up his box, and ran to where four soldiers of the 61st 
 had laid down Coghlan, their eccentric old colonel, who had received 
 a shot which entered the top of his left epaulet and came out at his 
 risht side. But he, too, was passed Stuart's skill, and died instantly. 
 
 'Evan heard not what passed, but learned the doctor's opinion from 
 the sad expression of his master's face. 
 
 " O sir ! and sae he has gien me ower," said he, speaking in a 
 broken and difficult manner, while the blood continued to gurgle 
 incessantly in his throat. He held out his hand, and Eonald, taking 
 it in his o^vn, knelt down beside him. " And sae, sir, he has gien me 
 ower. I thocht as muckle, but he micht, he micht have tried to 
 save me. But na, na ! it's a' ower noo. I ken my wierd mon a' be 
 fulfilled ; I kent 1 wad fa' the day. There was an unco sooghin' in 
 my heart a' the last nicht. Something seemed aye whispering in my 
 lug it was the last I was doomed to see. Oich, ay ! it will be sair 
 .aews to auld Donald Iverach, whan he hears that Evan Bean — his 
 JEvan with the fair hair, Evan that he was aye sae fond o', has de'ed 
 n the land o' the foe and the stranger. But, O dear Maister Eonald ! 
 ye'll tell him, — ye'U tell a' the folk in the bonnie glen, when ye gang 
 hame to Miss Alice, that I died as became me, with my bonnet on 
 my brow, and my face to the enemy." 
 
 " I will, Evan, I will," groaned Eonald. 
 
 " I have always dune my duty, su', to you and to my cuintry." 
 
 " You have, Evan, — bravely and nobly." 
 
 " Thanks, sir, thanks ! Ye'll say that Evan, the son of Iverach, 
 never flinched in the dark hour o' trial and danger !" said he, while 
 his eyes lighted up with Highland enthusiasm. " Tell them this, — 
 that the auld folk may remember me in their prayers, when the 
 coronach is sung for me in the clachan at Lochisla." 
 
 " My poor Evan, you will exhaust yourself." 
 
 " My time is short noo," he replied in a moaning voice ; " but, oh ! 
 this v/ill be sad news to my auld faither. My death will bring sorrow 
 and dule on his grey hairs. And then there is Jessie — Jessie Cavers 
 o' the Inch-house, at Avonside ! " He began to sob, and his tears 
 mingled with his blood. He sunk back exhausted, and lay still for 
 a short time, during which he muttered to himself, — " The gowden 
 braid — her lock o' hair ! An ill omen, — cut in twa by a sabre 
 at Orthez. O Jessie ! my sweet wee love, maun we never meet 
 mair ? 
 
 " Maister Eonald !" said he, in a quivering voice, " see that Jessie 
 
 fets a' my back pay. There's three months o't gane, come the neist 
 iord's-day. Let her put it to her tocher, — 'twill help her to get 
 anither love. I release her frae the troth she gaed to me. Alake — " 
 And his voice died away in a gentle wail. 
 
 " Evan, this money,— hear me ; this pay you speak of,— shall I not 
 ^ive it to your father, rather than this Jessie Cavers, who may, per- 
 haps, have forgotten you ?" 
 
 She never will forget me !" cried Iverach, with an impetuosity 
 which caused the gore to rush from his wound and mouth fearfully. 
 " If I thocht she had proved fause to her plichted aith, I wad haunt 
 her till her dyin' day. Yird an' stane wadna' baud me. But my 
 
874 THE EOMANCii; OF WA2. 
 
 faithcr,— gie him tbis, sir ; for he wad fling siller into the loch, as if 
 it burnt his hand/' 
 
 He undid from his bonnet the regimental badge which fastened 
 the black cockade and upright green feather. It was a wreath of 
 thistles, encircling a Sphynx, and the word Egypt stamped in brass. 
 ** Gie — gie him this : lie will wear it for my sake, — the sake o' his 
 Evan Bean. And now, Heaven bless ye, ilaister Ronald ! and grant 
 that ye may live lang and happily after I'm gane to dust, and the 
 grass o' many a year has grown and withered ower me. Ye've been 
 a kind maister, — a gude friend, — and a gudo officer to mc. God bless 
 Colonel Cameron and every ofiicer and pri\»ate man in the regiment ; 
 I thocht to have been spared to gang hame wi' ye to auld Scotland ; 
 but that hath been ordained itherways. But — but — " 
 
 His voice failed him again, and his eyes grew dull and glassy, while 
 his face became overspread with the li\id hue of death, and assumed 
 that expression which is terrible to look upon. On a sudden he 
 started, and seemed to gaze intently on some" distant object. 
 
 " Evan ! " said Stuart in astonishment. " Vv hat see you, that you 
 gaze thus ? " 
 
 " My faither the piper," said he in a breathless voice, -^vhile he 
 grasped llonald convulsively with one hand, and with the other 
 pointed to some vision of his imagination. " 'Tis my faither ! " he 
 added, in a voice thrilling with death and delight. " He comes to 
 find me in the deid-thraw ! Yonder, yonder he comes,— doou by the 
 dyke-side. His pipes a' br^w wi' ribbons frae the drones, and his 
 tartan ])laid "v^'aving behind him ! " 
 
 Startled by the energy of the dj-ing soldier, Sonald looked in the 
 direction pointed out. No such appearance was visible to him ; but 
 there lay the broad bosom of the Garonne, refulgent with the noon- 
 day sun, — svv'eeping in watery majesty past the towers and spires of 
 Toulouse, and disappearing among the deep forests, which were 
 resounding with the clang of the battle that was waged hotly and 
 fiercely before the walls of the city. 
 
 "Evan," said he mournfully, " t see not the fxgure you mention." 
 
 But there was no reply : the Highlander had ceased to exist. The 
 blood oozed slowly and heavily from his wound, and his distended 
 and glassy eyes were yet fixed viith the glare of death on the scene of 
 the distant battle-field. 
 
 An exclamation of deep anguish burst from Uonald Stuart on 
 beholding the breathless body of his humble but gallant friend, which 
 presented a woful spectacle, being drenched in blood from the chin to 
 the shoe- buckle. He tied a handkerchief over the face, and disposing 
 the body in its plaid, he hewed down an oUve-tree with his sword, 
 and with the branches covered it up, that it might be unmolested by 
 the peasantry and death-hunters, until he could return and commit 
 it to the earth. 
 
 This done, he tied up his own wound, which till then he had for- 
 gotten, and again sought the field, where flashing steel and eddjing 
 smoke ]3ore token of the strife. Toulouse was the last, and one of the 
 most keenly-contested battles of the Peninsular war; and it was 
 very generally believed by the allied army, that Soult, when it took 
 place, was aware that ppsace had been concluded between Great 
 Britain and Erance. 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLY. 
 
 TOULOUSE. 
 
 The long and bloody war of tlie Peninsula had now been brought 
 to a final close, and the troops looked forward -with impatience to the 
 day of embarkation for their homes. The presence of the allied army 
 was no longer necessary in Erance ; but the British forces yet 
 lingered about the Garonne, expecting the lon^-wished and long- 
 looked for route for Britain. The Gordon Highlanders Avere quar- 
 tered at ]Muret, a small town on the banks of the Garonne, and a fev/ 
 miles from Toulouse. One evening, while the mess were discussing, 
 over their wine, the everlasting theme of the probable chances of the 
 corps being ordered to Scotland, the sound of galloping hoofs and the 
 clank of accoutrements were heard in the street of the village. A 
 Serjeant of the Tirst Dragoons, with the foam-bells hanging on his 
 horse's bridle, reined up at the door of the inn where the officers oi. 
 the Highlanders had established a temporary mess-house. Old 
 Dugald Cameron was standing at the door, displaying his buirdly 
 person to a group of staring villagers, \nth Avhom he was attempting 
 to converse in a singular mixture of broad northern Scots, Spanish, 
 and French, all of which his hearers found not very intelligible. 
 
 The horseman dashed up to the, door with the splendid air of the 
 true Enghsh di'agoon, and vnth an importance which caused the 
 villagers to shrink back. Inquiring for Colonel Cameron, he handed 
 to Dugald two long official packets ; and after draining a deep horn- 
 ful of liquor which the Celt brought him, he wheeled his charger 
 round, and rodo slowly away. 
 
 " Letters frae the toon o' Toulouse, sir," said Dugald, ns, with his 
 flat bonnet under his arm, and smoothing down his white hair, he 
 advanced to Passifern's elbov7, and laid the despatches before him ; 
 after which he retired a few paces, and waited to" hear the contents, 
 in which he considered he had as much interest as any one present. 
 The clamoiu" and laughter of the mess-room were instantly hushed, 
 and every face grew grave, from the ample visage of Campbell, who 
 was seated on the eolonel's right hand, down to the fair-cheeked 
 ensigns (or Johnny Newcomes), who always ensconced themselves at 
 the foot of the table, to be as far away as possible from the colonel 
 and seniors. 
 
 " Fill your glasses, gentlemen," said Cameron, as he broke the seal 
 of the first despatch ; " fill a bumper, and drink ' to a fair wind.' 
 My life on't 'tis the route, and we shall soon have Old England on 
 our lee ! " 
 
 " Praise Heaven 'tis come at last ! " said Campbell, filling up his 
 glass with bright sparkhng sherry. " I never hailed it with greater 
 joy, even in Egypt. But what says Sir Arthur— the marquis, I 
 mean ? " 
 
 "'Tis the route!" replied Cameron, draining his glass. "To- 
 morrow, at daybreak, we march for Toulouse." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " said the major. " We shall have the purple heather 
 under our brogues in a vreek more. Hoigh ! Here's to the High- 
 landmen, shoulder to shoulder ! " Every glass was reversed, wllile 
 a round of applause shook the room. 
 
v^76 THE EOMAMCE OF WIH. 
 
 " We embark on the Garonne," continued Cameron, consulting 
 the document. "Flat-bottomed boats ^vill convey us dovm the 
 river, and we shall sail in transports for Cork." 
 
 " Hech ! how, sirs ! Cork? " exclaimed Campbell, in a tone of dis- 
 appointment. " Demonios ! as the dons say ; and are we not going 
 home to our own country, — to the land of the bannock and bonnet ?" 
 
 " Ireland is our destination, A famous place to soldier in, as I 
 know from experience, major." 
 
 "■ I love poor Paddy well enough," said Campbell : " who is there 
 that would not, that has seen a charge of the Connaught Rangers, or 
 the 87th ? Regular de\ils they are for fighting. But we were sent 
 home to braid Scotland after Egypt; and we saw service there, 
 gentlemen. Old Ludovick Lisle, and Cameron there, could tell you 
 that. But the other paper, colonel ; what is it about ? " 
 
 "A despatch for General the Conde Penne Villamur, at Ehzondo. 
 It is to be forwarded instantly by the first ojSicer for duty : who 
 is he?" 
 
 "Stuart," said the adjutant. 
 
 " The deuce take your memory ! " said Stuart testily, as this 
 announcement fell like a thunderbolt upon him : " you seem to have 
 the roster all by heart. Colonel, is it possible that I am really to 
 travel nearly a hundred miles, and to cross those abominable Pyrenees 
 again, after fighting my way to Toulouse ? " 
 
 " AYithout d9ubt," replied Fassifern, drily. " You will have the 
 pleasure of seeing Spain once more, and again paying your respects 
 to the gazelle-eyed senoritas and pompous senores." 
 
 " I would readily dispense with these pleasures. But might not 
 "Wellington have sent an aide or a dragoon with this despatch ? " 
 
 " Se seems not to think so. There is no help, Eonald, my man. 
 You would not throw your duty on another. Obedience is the 
 first — You know the adage : ^tis enough. You can rejoin us at 
 Toulouse, where we embark in eight days from this." 
 
 "Eight days.?" 
 
 " Make good use of your nag : you will require one, of course. 
 Campbell will lend you his spare charger ' Egypt,' as he styles it." 
 
 " With the utmost pleasure," said the major, filling up his glass. 
 " But look well to him by the way, for he is an especial good piece of 
 horse-flesh as ever was foaled, or any man found for nothing on that 
 memorable day of June, on the plains of Vittoria. But when i 
 remember the airing you took with my steed at Almarez, I cannot lend 
 you Egypt without entertaining some secret fears of never beholding 
 him again." 
 
 " Have no fears for Egypt, major," said Ronald, laughing. " I will 
 restore him without turning a hair of his glossy coat." 
 
 "Then, Stuart, you must march forthwith," said Cameron ; "the 
 marquis's despatch must be carried onward mthout delay. You 
 must reach St. Gaudens by sunrise." 
 
 Bugald was despatched to desire Jock Pentland, the major's bat- 
 man, to caparison Egypt; and meanwhile Stuart hurried to his billet. 
 ■\vhere he hastily selected a few necessaries for his journey, and packed 
 them in a horse- vahse. In case of accidents, he indited a hasty letter 
 for Lochisla ; but, for reasons given in another chapter, it never 
 reached those for whom it was destined. 
 
 To his servant, Allan Warristoim, poor Evan's successor, he 
 abandoned the care of his baggage, desiring him to have it all m 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAH, 377 
 
 readiness asainst the hour of march on the morrow. He belted his 
 sword and dirk tightly to his waist, and examined the holsters, to see 
 if the pistols were freshly flinted and in good order ; after which he 
 examined his ammunition, well knowing that the more lead bullets 
 and the less loose cash he had about him, the better for travelling on 
 such unsafe ground as the Lower Pyrenees. He remembered that 
 the whole of these waste places were infested by hordes of lawless 
 banditti, composed of all the rascal crew of Spain, — guerillas, whose 
 trade was at an end, broken or deserted soldiers, unfrocked monks, 
 fugitive xyresidiarios or convicts, bravoes, valientes, and vagabonds ot' 
 every kind, with which the long war, the absence of order and law, 
 together with the loose state of Spanish morals, had peopled every 
 part of the country. While the remembrance of these gentlemen 
 passed through his mind, Stuart again examined his arms and 
 horse-equipage carefully, and mounting, rode forth along the dark, 
 straggling street of Muret. From the mess-room window there 
 was handed to him a parting bumper of sherry, which he drank in 
 his saddle. 
 
 " Good-bye, Lisle ! " said he, waving his hand; "bid Virginia adieu 
 for me. And now good-bye, lads ; good-bye to ye all ; " and, striking 
 spurs into Egypt, he galloped off. 
 
 " He is a fine fellow, and keeps his seat as well as any cavalier of 
 the Brado at Madrid,^' said the major, watching Stuart's retreating 
 figure as long as he could see it by the starlight. " He is a fine fellow, 
 and I wish he was safe back again among us. He has a long and peril- 
 ous path before him, over these d d PjTenees ; and ten to one he 
 
 never returns again from among those black-browed and uncanny 
 dons. We all know Spanish ingratitude, sirs ! " The worthy major 
 knew not how prophetically he spoke. 
 
 Next morning the regiment marched to Toulouse, and remained 
 eight days, awaiting the arrival of the boats and other small craft to 
 convey them down the Garonne, which becomes navigable at a short 
 distance from the city. 
 
 The eight days passed away, and Eonald Stuart did not return. 
 The eventful day arrived— the day of embarkation for home, and the 
 regiment paraded on the river-side with out liim. The officers glanced 
 darkly at each other, and the colonel shook his head sorrowfully, as 
 if he deemed that all was not right ; and a murmured curse on the 
 Spaniards was muttered among the soldiers. The whole regiment, 
 from Fassifem down to the youngest drum-boy, regretted his 
 absence, which gave room for so many disagreeable constructions 
 and surmises. Other corps were parading at the same time, and in 
 the stir, bustle, and confusion of embarking men and horses, baggage, 
 women, and children, his absence was forgotten for a time. The 
 cheers of the soldiers and the din of various bands were heard every- 
 where. The time was one of high excitement, and joy shone on 
 every bronzed face as boat after boat got under weigh, and, with its 
 freight, moved slowly dovm the Garonne—" the silvery Garonne," 
 the windings of which „soon hid the bridge, the spires, the grey old 
 university, and the beautiful forests of Toulouse. 
 
Iffb TITE EOMANCE OF ■VYAB. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 ADVENTUEES. 
 
 _ Stuaet departed from Muret in no pleasant mood, having a con- 
 viction that he was the most unfortunate fellow in the airjij^; 
 because, when any disagreeable duty was to he performed, by some 
 strange fatality the lot always fell upon him. But his displeasure 
 evaporated as the distance between Muret and himself increased. 
 It was a clear and beautiful night. JNIilhons of sparklers studded 
 the firmament, and, although no moon wag visible, the scenery around 
 ■was distinctly discernible. Aiiir off lay Toulouse, the direction of 
 which wais marked only by the hazy halo of light around it, arising 
 from amidst the bosky forests, which extend over nearly a hundred 
 thousand acres of ground. 
 
 Before him spread a clear and open countrj', over which his horse 
 was now carrying him at a rapid pace. It was midnight before the 
 lights of Muret vanished behind him. The road became more 
 lonely, and no sound broke upon the silence of the way, save the 
 clang of Egypt's hoofs, ringing with a sharp ii'on sound on the hard- 
 trodden road. 
 
 After riding nearly twenty miles, he found himself becoming tired 
 and drowsy ; and dismounting, he led his horse into a copse by the 
 road-side, where, fastening the bridle to a tree, he lay down on the 
 dewy sward, and, placing his claymore under his head, fell fast asleep. 
 Before sunrise he Avas again in his saddle, and, vdthout breaking his 
 fast, reached the town of Saint Gaudens, on the Garonne, forty-four 
 miles from Toulouse. Unwilling to waste farther the strength of 
 the noble animal which had borne him to far, and with such speed, 
 he halted at Saint Gaudens for twelve hours, and again set forward 
 on the direct road for the province of Beam. 
 
 The well-known chain of the Pyrenees, the scene of so many a 
 recent contest, began to rise before him, and as he proceeded, every 
 object which met his view became more familiar. 
 
 On nearing the Pass of Eoncesvalles, he reached the block-house 
 •which his light company had garrisoned and defended so stoutly. It 
 was now falling into ruin, and the skeletons of the Prench were lying 
 around it. with the rank dog-grass sprouting among their mouldering 
 bones. A ghastly sight ! — but many such occurred as he journeyed 
 among the mountains. Near the block-house he fell in Avith an 
 encampment of gitanos, or gipsies, a people whose ferocity is equallec 
 only by their cunning and roguery. They were at dinner, and bade 
 him welcome to the feast, which consisted of broiled rabbits, olives, 
 rice, and hacalao, with wine — stolen of course — to wash it down. He 
 took his share of the \aands seated by a fire, around which the ragged 
 wayfarers crowded, male and female ; but he was very well pleased 
 when he took his departure from these sii^gular people, w^ho would 
 not accept a single maravedi for his entertainment. 
 
 Near midnight he arrived at the village of Poncesvalles, which 
 consists of one stragghng street, closed by an arched gateway at each 
 end. The barriers were shut, and no admittance was given. He 
 thundered loudly, first at one gate and then at the other ; but he was 
 unhearrl or uncared for by the drowsy porters, who occupied the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF VTAB. G79 
 
 houses abtve the arches. He therefore prepared to pass the night 
 in the open air, which, although nothing new to a campaigner, was 
 sufficiently provoking on that occasion, especially as a shower was 
 beginning to descend, and sheet hghtning, red and flaming, shot at 
 times across the distant sky, revealing the peaks of the mountains, 
 and the moaning voice of the wind announced a tempestuous night. 
 Wishing the warders of Roncesvalles in a hotter climate than Spain, 
 ho looked about for some place of shelter, and perceived, not far off, 
 a solitary little cliapel, or oratory, which was revealed by the pale 
 altar-lights twinkling through its tinted windows and open doorway. 
 
 In this rude edifice he resolved to take shelter, rather than pass 
 the night in the open air ; and just as he gained its arched porch, 
 the storm, which had long been threatening, burst forth with sudden 
 and appalling fury. The wind howled in the pass, and swept over 
 the mountains lilce a tornado, and with a terrible sound, as if, in the 
 words of a Gaelic bard, the spirits of the storm were shrieking to 
 each other. The forked lightning shot athwart the sky, cleaving the 
 masses of cloud, and the rattling rain thundered furiously on the 
 chapel roof and windows, as if to beat the little fabric to the earth. 
 His horse was startled by the uproar of the elements, and snorted, 
 gi-ew restive, and shot fire from his prominent eyes as the passing 
 gleams illuminated the porch, Avithin which Stuart had stabled him 
 by fastening the bridle to the figure of an old saint or apostle that 
 presided over a stone font, from which tiie old troop-horse soon 
 sucked up the holy water. Eonald wrapped a cloak round him, and 
 flung himself on the stone pavement of the chapel, to rest his aching 
 limbs, which were beginning to stifi'en with so long a journey on 
 horseback. 
 
 The building was totally destitute of ornament, and its rude 
 construction gave evidence of its great antiquity. There were several 
 shrines around it, with wax tapers flickering beforethem, revealins 
 the strange little monsters in wood or stone which represented 
 certain saints. In front of one of these knelt a stout but wild- 
 looking Spanish peasant, devoutly praying and telling over his 
 chaplet. The entrance of Stuart caused him hurriedly to start, — to 
 snatch his broad-leaved hat from the floor, to grasp the haft of his 
 dagger, and glance round him with frowning brow and eyes gleaming 
 vnih apprehension. But on perceiving the uniform of the intruder, 
 his dark features relaxed into a smile ; he bowed his head politely, 
 and resumed his orisons, which Stuart never interrupted, although 
 they laatvid for 9, wearv hour. There was something very grotesque 
 in the aspect of one particular nnage, Tvhich appeared to be thrust; 
 unceremoniously into a dark niche, where no taper burned; trom 
 which Eonald inferred that the saint had no worshippers, or was, nol 
 a favourite in the neighbourhood of Eoncesvalles. The api)earance 
 of the image was calculated to excite laughter and derision, rather 
 than piety or awe. It resembled the figure of Johnny Wilkes or 
 Guy Fawkes, rather than a grim and ghostly saint. The effigy waa 
 upwards of six feet high, and had a painted mask, well bc-wbislcered, 
 and surmounted by a cocked hat. It was arrayed in leather breeches 
 and jack-boots, a blue uniform coat, and tarnished epaulets. A sash 
 encircled its waist, and in it were stuck a pair of pistols and a sabre. 
 Its tout ensemble was quite ludicrous, as it stood erect in the gloomy 
 'liche of the solemn little chapel, and "ras seen by the " dim religious 
 U5nt ' ol distaut tapers. 
 
880 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 With the hilt; of his broad-sword under his head for a pillow, 
 Stuart lay on the pavement, and viewed this singular apparition with 
 considerable amusement ; and if he restrained a violent inclination 
 to laugh, it was only from a reluctance to offend the peasant, who 
 was praying before an image which, by its long robe and bunch of 
 rusty keys, seemed meant for a representation of San Pedro. 
 
 From the devotee, who, when his prayers were ended, seated him- 
 self by his side, Stuart learned that the strange image represented 
 St, Anthony of Portugal, one of those redoubtable seven champions 
 whose " history" has made such a noise in the world from time 
 immemorial. Notmthstanding the mist which ignorance, supersti- 
 tion, and priestcraft had cast over his mind, the sturdy paisano 
 laughed till the chapel rang again at the appearance of the Portuguese 
 patron, and acquainted Stuart with some pleasant facts, which 
 accounted for the military garb of the saint. By virtue of a decree 
 in that behalf on the part of his hohness, St. Anthony was, in 1706, 
 formally enlisted into the Portuguese army ; and in the same year 
 received the rank of captain, — so rapid was his promotion. His 
 image was always clad in successive uniforms, as he was hurried 
 through the different grades, until he reached the rank of Marshal- 
 general of the armies of Portugal and Algarve, a post which, I 
 believe, he yet holds, with a pension of one hundred and fifty ducats 
 per annum, which every year is punctually deposited in a splendid 
 purse, in the Chapel-Eoyal, by the Portuguese sovereign. Awful 
 was the -wrath, and terrible were the denunciations and holy indigna- 
 tion, when a cannon-ball carried off the head and cocked hat of the 
 unfortunate image, which had been placed in an open carriage on 
 one occasion, when commanding the Portuguese army in battle. 
 
 The image in the chapel at Eoncesvalles had been placed there by 
 the soldiers of the Conde d'Amarante's brigade, the conde himself 
 furnishing the saint with some of his cast uniform ; but, since the 
 departure of the Portuguese, the shrine had been totally deserted, as 
 no true Spaniard would bend his knee to a Lusitanian saint. Such 
 was the account given by the peasant, and it illustrates rather oddly 
 the religious feehngs of the Portuguese. After sharing together the 
 contents of a flask of brandy, mth which Ronald had learned to pro- 
 vide himself, they composed themselves to sleep. The peasant, who 
 had also been shut out of E-oncesvalles, drew his broad sombrero 
 over his dusky visage, and WTapping his brown mantle around him, 
 laid his head against the base of a column, and fell fast asleep. Those 
 suspicions whicih a long intercourse A\ith Spaniards had taught 
 Stuart to entertain of every casual acquaintance, kept him for some 
 time from sleep. He narrowly watched his olive-cheeked companion, 
 and it was not until, from his hard breathing, he was sure he slept, 
 that he too resigned himself to the drowsy deity. He awoke 
 about sunrise, and found that his companion had departed. A 
 sudden misgiving shot across his mind, and he sprang to the porch 
 to look for his horse, which stood there, fair and sleek, as he left him 
 on the preceding evening. He took him by the bridle, and advanced 
 towards Boncesvalles 
 
 The storm, and all traces of it, had passed away. The sky was 
 clear and sunny, and the distant mountains mingled with its azure. 
 The air was laden ^^ith rich perfume from little shrubs, of which I 
 know not the name, but which flourish everj'where over the 
 Peninsula; and every bush and blade of grass glittered hke silver 
 
381 
 
 with tne moisture which bedewed them. The gates of Eoucesvalles 
 stood open, and passing thrrugh one of the archways, Ronald asked 
 the first person he met whether there was an inn, cafe, taberna, or 
 any house of entertainment, where he could procure refreshment for 
 himself and horse, but was informed that the wretched mountain- 
 village could boast of none. The man to whom he spoke was a 
 miserably-clad peasant, and, like most Spanish villagers, appeared to 
 belong to no trade or profession. He was returning from the public 
 fountain with water, which he carried on his head, in a huge brown, 
 jug. He seemed both surprised and pleased to be accosted by a 
 British officer, and said that if the noble cahallero would honour 
 him by coming to his house, he would do his best to provide refresh- 
 ment. This offer Stuart at once accepted, and placing a dollar in 
 the hand of the aguadore, desired him to lead the way. After seeing 
 his horse fed and watered, and after discussing breakfast, which con- 
 sisted of a miserable mess of milk, peas, goat's-flesh, and roasted 
 castanos, he mounted, and again went forth on his mission, glad to 
 leave E/oncesvalles far behindhim. He expected to reach Elizondo 
 before night ; but soon found that his horse had become so jaded and 
 worn out, that the hope was vain. The pace of the animal had 
 become languid and slow ; his eyes had. lost their fire, and his neck 
 and ears began to droop. 
 
 That he might advance faster, Stuart was fain to lead him by the 
 bridle up the steep and winding tracks by which his journey lay. 
 Once only Egypt showed some signs of his former spirit. In a 
 narrow dell between two hills, in a rugged gorge, like the bed of a 
 departed river, an iron howitzer and a few shells lay rusting and 
 half sunk in the earth ; close by lay the skeletons of a man and a 
 horse, adding sadly to the effect of the naked and silent wilderness 
 around. At the sudden sight of these ghastly objects lying among 
 the weeds and long grass, the steed snorted, shied, and then sprung 
 away at a speed which soon left the dell, and what it contained, miles 
 behind. 
 
 As he rode through a solitary place, Stuart was startled on per- 
 ceiving a party of men, to the number of fifteen or twenty, all well 
 armed and on horseback, rising as it seemed from the earth, or 
 appearing suddenly above the surface successively, as spectres rise 
 through the stage. The fellows were all gaily attired in gaudy 
 jackets, red sashes, and high-crowned hats ; but the appearance of 
 their arms, a long Spanish gun slung over the back, a cutlass, and 
 double brace of pistols, together mth various packages of goods with 
 which their horses were laden, gave them the aspect of a band of 
 robbers. Stuart thought of the gang of Captain Rolando, as he saw 
 them appearing from the bowels of the earth, within about twenty 
 paces of where he stopped his horse. He next thought of his own 
 safety;, and had drawn forth his pistols, when one of the strangers 
 perceiving him, waved his hat, crying, " Amigos, senor, amigos ! '* 
 and, to put a bold face on the matter, Ronald rode straight towards 
 him. They proved to be a party of contrahandistas, travelling to 
 Vittoria with a store of chocolate, soap, butter, cigars, &c., which they 
 had been purchasing in Prance. A sort of hatchway, or trap-door, 
 of turf was laid over the mouth of the cavern from which they arose ; 
 after which they set off at full speed for Errazu. 
 
 Ronald was very well pleased to see them depart, as contra' 
 handistas are, at best, but indifferent characters, although few 
 
 n 2c 
 
88S THE nOMAJNCE OF WAK. 
 
 travellers are luore welcome at Jspamsu inns, where they may 
 ceuerally be seen at the door, or in the yard, recounting to their 
 lauf^hing auditors strant;e tales of adventures ■which they had 
 encountered in the course of their roving and romantic life ; and, as 
 they are ahvays gaily attired, they are generally favourites 'with the 
 peasaut girls on the thtferent roads they frequent. Their cavern, 
 wliich l\/onald felt a strong wish to explore, was probably some 
 deserted mine, or one of those subterranean abodes dug by the 
 ispaniards in the days of the Moors, and now appropriated by these 
 land-smugglers as a place for holding their wares. Had llonald worn 
 any other garb than that of a British olhcer, the contraband gentry 
 might, by an ouiice bullet, have secured for ever his silence regarding 
 their retreat, but they well knew that it mattered not to him : so, 
 after an interchange of a few civilities and cigars, they rode olf at a 
 gaUop, without once looking behind them. 
 
 As he proceeded on his way, the scenery became more interesting, 
 the landscape being interspersed with all that can render it beautiful. 
 A ruined chapel towered on a green eminence above a tufted grove, 
 through which swept a brawling mountain torrent, spanned by a 
 pointed arch ; while a cascade appeared below, where the stream, 
 grappling and jarring -with the rocks that interrupted its course, 
 rushed in a sheet of foam to a cleft in the earth many feet beneath. 
 Around were groves of the ohve-tree, with its soft green leaves and 
 bright yellow Ho\vers ; and beyond was Errazu, with its \ine-covered 
 cottages, its larger mansions of brick and plaster, ^vith heavy -tiled 
 roofs and broad projecting eaves, its great old monastery and its 
 church spu-e, the vane of which was gleaming in the hght of the 
 setting sun. As he was travelhng on duty, Stuart was entitled to 
 billets ; he therefore set about procuring one. The alcalde was at 
 confession, and the escrivano, to whom lie applied, gave him orders 
 for a quarter in the house or a sbhtary widow lady, who, with her 
 daughter, resided in a lonely house at the end of the town. 
 
 Considering their circumstances, this was the last house upon 
 which a billet should have been given ; but the escrivano had a piece 
 of revenge to gratify. The old lady was a widow of a syndic, — a 
 magistrate chosen by the people, like the E-oman tribunes, — who, 
 during his whole hfe had been at feud with him, and the escrivano 
 hoped that Stuart's being billeted there would give rise to some 
 pleasant piece of scandal, for the benelit of the gossiping old maids 
 and duennas of Errazu. 
 
 The appearance of the widow's mansion did not prepossess Eonald 
 much in its favour. The French had not left Errazu unscathed on 
 then* retreat through it ; and, hke many others, the domicile of 
 Donna Aminta della Honda showed signs of their vindictive feeling. 
 One half had sufiered from fire, and was in ruins ; but two apart- 
 ments were yet habitable, and into one of these Stuart was shown by 
 an aged and saffron-coloured female domestic, to wliom he presented 
 the billet-order, by which he vv^as entitled to occupy the best room 
 and best bed in the house. The chamber, which was paved with 
 tiles, was on the ground-floor ; the window was glazed, but the walls 
 were in a deplorable state of dilapidation; and many choice pieces 
 of Erench wit appeared scribbled on various parts of the plaster. 
 Among other things was a copy of verses addressed to Donna Aminta, 
 written in rather indehcate Erench. and signed " M. de Mesmai^, 
 
VV'IE KO:vrA.NOE OF WAS 38S 
 
 ■jO^ii: Cu.vai?s?.ers, or Devil's Own," which i a formed Stuart that his 
 Ibrnier acquaintance had once occupied that apartment. 
 
 Two antique chairs, high backed and richly carved, a massive oak 
 table, and a brass candlestick, composed the furniture. A chamber, 
 containing an old-fashioned bed, with crimson feathers and hangings, 
 opened out of this apartment, with which it communicated by 
 means of an arch, from which the Prench had torn the door, pro- 
 bably for fuel. But this snug couch did not appear destined for 
 Stuart, as th<3 old domestic laid a paillasse upon the tiled floor for 
 his use ; and placing wine, cigars, and a light upon the table, laid the 
 poker and shovel crosswise, and withdrew, leaving him to his own 
 reflections. 
 
 He was somewhat displeased at not being received by the ladies in 
 person, especially as the escrivano had informed him, with a sly look, 
 that the youngest possessed considerable attractions ; but consoling 
 himself with the wine and cigars, he resolved to care not a jot about 
 their discourtesy. After he had amused himself by thoroughly in- 
 specting every nook and corner of the room, and grown weary of 
 conning over the " History of the famous Preacher, Priar Gerund 
 de Campazas," which he found when ransacking the bed-closet, he 
 began to think of retiring to rest. He debated with himself for a 
 moment which berth to take possession of, because by his billet he 
 was entitled to the best bed the house contained ; and the four-post 
 and paillasse seemed the very antipodes of each other. But his 
 doubts were resolved at once by the sudden entrance of the ladies, 
 v/ho sailed into the room with their long trains and flowing veils, 
 and bowing, coldly bid hira " Btiena noche, senor !" as they retired 
 to their bed-room. Ye gods ! a bed-room destitute of door, and a 
 foreign official to sleep in the next room ! Stuart was puzzled, 
 dumb-foundered in fact, and his Scottish modesty was quite shocked. 
 But, lighting another cigar, he affected to read very attentively 
 " Priar Gerund de Campazas," and wondered how all this was to end • 
 while the ladies, favoured by the gloom of the chamber, undressed 
 and betook themselves to their couch, around which they drew the 
 dark and massive folds of the drapery. Ronald laid do\Mi the book, 
 and stared about him. There w^as something very pecuhar in the 
 affair, and it outdid the most singular Spanish stories he had ever 
 heard related, even at the mess. 
 
 The elder lady had nothing very enchanting about her, certainly ; 
 but Ronald's keen eye had observed that the young donna had a 
 melting black Spanish eye, a cherry lip, and white hand. He thought 
 of these things, and glanced furtively towards the mysterious closet, 
 where the black outline of the couch, surmounted by its plumage, 
 seemed like that of a hearse or mausoleum. Not a sound came from 
 it after Donna Aminta had mumbled her ave ! hut the trampling of 
 heavy feet arrested Stuart's attention ; the door opened, and two tall 
 and muscular Spaniards entered. One wore a broad hat, with a 
 spi'ig of romero stuck in the band of it, as a guard against evil 
 spirits and danger. The other wore a long cap of yellow cotton. 
 They were shirtless and shoeless, and their ragged cotton breeches 
 and zamarra jackets displayed, through various holes, their dark and 
 swarthy skins, giving them a wild and savage appearance, which 
 their brown bull-like necks and ferocious visages, fringed with masses 
 ©f dark hair, did not bene. As usual, each was girt about the mid<il& 
 
 2C2 
 
384 THE EOilANCl! OF WASi. 
 
 by a yellow sash; but stuck in it, each had a flaggor 8,iid 'ft* 'fij of 
 pistols. They ^vere beetle-browed aud most cut-throat lo&idng 
 telle ws. At iirst sight Ronald knew them to be valientt-s, — villains 
 whose poniard are ever at the service of any base employer who pays 
 well. He started up on their entering, and drew his sword an inch 
 or so from the sheath. The fellows suiiled grimly at the demonstra- 
 tion : upon which, he inquired sternly the reason of their intrusion, 
 and why thus armed ? 
 
 " Donna Aminta can best answer your questions," answered one 
 fellow with surly impudence, as they swaggered into the bed-chamber. 
 With his hand on his claymore Eonald strode towards them. 
 
 " Stand, senor cavaher !" said the one who had spoken ; " stand ! 
 We seek not to quarrel with you ; but hfe is sweet, and if we are set 
 upon — You understand us: the good lady shall see that we are 
 worthy of our wages. We mount guard on her chamber : cross this 
 line," added he, drawing one on the tiles with his poniard ; " cross 
 tills line, and, Santo demonio 1 we will whet our daggers on your 
 back-bone." 
 
 Insolent as this reply was, Stuart resolved to put up ^ritll the 
 affront rather than come to blows Avith two desperadoes, whose fire- 
 arms gave them such advantage. He deeply regretted that he had 
 left his loaded pistols in the holsters of the saddle ; and remember- 
 ing that he was alone, and among jealous strangers, he thought that 
 a brawl would be well avoided. The bravoes seated themselves on 
 the floor -within the ladies' chamber, and remained perfectly quiet, 
 without stirring or speaking, but their fierce dark eyes seemed to be 
 watching the stranger keenly. Eonald retired to his paillasse, and 
 laid his dra^Aii dirk and clajonore beside him, ready to grasp them 
 en the least alarm. He remained watching the intruders by the 
 light of the candle, until it flickered down in the socket and expired, 
 leaving the place involved in deep gloom. The silence of tho chamber 
 was broken only by the real or pretended snoring of these modern 
 Cids, who had so suddenly become^ the guardians of the ladies' 
 bower. When he first committed himself to his- miserable couch, 
 Eonald had determined to he awake ; but, gro-wing weary of listening 
 and watching in the dark, he dropped insensibly asleep, and did not 
 awake until the morning was far advanced. The instant sleep de- 
 parted from his eyehds, the remembrance of last night flashed upon 
 his memory. He rose and looked about him. The bravoes had 
 -withdrawn ; the ladies also were gone, and the couch was tenantless. 
 Sheathing his weapons, he drained the wine-jar ; and snatching up 
 his bonnet, he departed from the house unseen by its inmates, whom 
 he bequeathed to the de-vil for their discourtesy. 
 
 Fetching his horse from the stable of the escrivano, where he had 
 left it overnight, he again resumed his journey, feeling heartily tired 
 of Spain, and wishing himself again at Toulouse, where his comrades 
 ■were awaiting the order to embark. 
 
■CtlE EOMANCE OF WAB. 38S 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 THE LADY OF ELIZONDO, 
 
 A EiDE of a few leagues brought Stuart to Elizoudo. On enteiick^ 
 tbe market-place, two Spanish soldiers, placed as sentinels before the 
 door of a large mansion-house, attracted his attention. He was 
 informed that it was the residence of the Conde Penne Villamur. 
 It stood at the corner of the old market-place, to which one of its 
 fronts looked ; the other faced the Piierta del Sol, where the superior 
 classes of the inhabitants met to promenade and converse, between 
 ten and twelve in the forenoon. 
 
 He dismounted, and, ascending a splendid staircase, was ushered 
 into a handsome apartment, the lofty ceihng of which was covered 
 ■with antique carving and gilding. As usual in Spanish houses, the 
 furniture was very antique, and the chairs and hangings were of 
 damask cloth. The condd, a grim old fellow, whose grey wiry mous- 
 taches were turned up to the tops of his ears, lay back in an easy 
 chair, with his legs stretched out lazily at full length under the 
 table, upon which stood wine-decanters and fruit, &c. &c. A young 
 lady, either his %vife or daughter, sat in that part of the room where 
 the floor was raised, as if for a throne, about a foot above the rest. 
 She sat working at a new mantilla, which she was embroidering on 
 a frame. Her feet were placed on the wooden rail of a hrasero, or 
 pan filled with charcoal, which rendered the atmosphere of the room 
 very unpleasant to one unaccustomed to such an uncomfortable con- 
 trivance. When Stuart entered, the senora merely bowed, and 
 continued her work, blushing as young ladies generally do when a 
 handsome young officer appears unexpectedly. The conde snatched 
 from his face the handkerchief which during his .we^^a had covered 
 it, and bowed twice or thrice with the most formal gravity of an old 
 Castilian, stooping until the bullion epaulets of his brown regi- 
 mentals became' reversed. Stuart delivered the despatch with which 
 he had ridden so far, wondering what it might contain. The conde 
 handed him a chair and a glass of Malaga ; after which he begged 
 pardon, and proceeded to con over the papers, without communi- 
 cating their contents. But in consequence of the complacent smile 
 which overspread and unbent his grim features, Eonald supposed 
 that the envelope contained only some comphmentary address to 
 the Spanish forces. And he was right in his conjecture, as, six 
 months afterwards, he had the pleasure, or rather displeasure, of 
 perusing it in a number of the Gaceta de la Regencia. 
 
 " Biavolo !" thought he, as he bowed to la senora, and emptied his 
 glass, " have I ridden from the Garonne to the Pyrenees with a paper 
 full of staff-office nonsense ? " 
 
 Villamur read over the document two or three times, often begging 
 pardon for the liberty he took ; and after inquiring about the health 
 5)f Lord "Wellington, and discussing the probabilities of having a 
 continuance of fine weather, as if he kept a score of barometers and 
 thermometers, he ended by a few other common-place observations, 
 and covering up his face with his handkerchief, began to relapse 
 insensibly into the dozing and dreamy state from which Stuart had 
 roused him. Irritated at treatment so ditferent from what he ex- 
 
366 THB EOMAJSCK OF W4S, 
 
 pected, and which an ofllcer of the most trusty ally of Spain deserved^ 
 Ronald at once rose, and bowing haughtily to the lady, withdrew; 
 the condd cooily permitting him to do so, saying, that Micer Ear- 
 tolme, the alcalde, who kept the faro-table opposite, would give him 
 an order ''or a billet. 
 
 " Conf(/i\nd his Spanish pride, his insolence, presumption, and in- 
 gratitude !" thought Stuart, bitterly. "'Tis a pretty displ^ of hospi- 
 tality this, to one \vho has looked on the slaughter of vittoria, of 
 Orlhez, and Toulouse ! But my duty is over, thank Heaven ! and 
 to-morrow my horse's tail will be turned on this most grateful soil 
 of Spain." 
 
 Micer Eartolme expressed much joy at the sight of the red coat, 
 and would have in\ited the wearer to remain in his own. house, 
 probably for the purpose of fleecing him at faro ; but it so happened 
 that, at the moment, he was not exactly master of his own premises. . 
 His good lady had just brought him a son and heir, ten minutes 
 before Ronald's arrival, and the mansion had been taken violent 
 possession of by all the female gossips, wise women, and duennas of 
 Elizondo, by whom the worthy alcalde was treated as a mere intruder, 
 being pushed, ordered, and brow-beat-en, until he was fain to quit 
 the field and take up his quarters ^^ith his neighbour, an escrivano. 
 An order for a billet was therefore given on the mansion of a cava- 
 lier, who bore the sounding name of Don Alvarado de Castellon de la 
 Plana, so styled from the place of his birth, the " castle on the plain," 
 an old Moorish town of Valencia. 
 
 He received Ronald with all due courtesy, and directed servants 
 to look after the wants of his jaded horse. He was a dissipated but 
 handsome-looking man, about thirty years of age. He wore his hair 
 in long flowing locks, and two short black tufts curled on his upper 
 lip. In its cut, his dress closely resembled that of an English gentle- 
 man ; but his surtout of green cloth was braided with gold lace, 
 adorned with a profusion of jingling bell-buttons, and girt about the 
 waist by a broad belt, which was clasped by a large buckle, and sus- 
 tained a short ivory-hilted and silver-sheathed stiletto. A broad 
 shirt-collar, edged with jagged lace, spread over his shoulder, and 
 when his high-flapped Spanish hat was Avithdrawn, a broad and noble 
 forehead was displayed ; but there was an expression in its contracted 
 lines, which told of a heart stern, proud, and daring. His dark eye- 
 brows were habitually knit, and formed a continued but curved line 
 above his nose ; and there was a certain bold and boisterous swagger 
 in his demeanour, Avhich Ronald supposed he had acquired while 
 serving as a cavalier of fortune in the guerilla band of the ferocious 
 Don Julian Sanchez. 
 
 In everything the reverse of him appeared his wife, a lady sa 
 
 fentle, so timid, that she scarcely ever raised her soft dark eyes when 
 Donald addressed her. She was veiy pale ; her soft cheek was whiter 
 than her hand, and contrasted strongly with the hue of her ringlets ; 
 and in her beautiful, but evidently withering features, there was 
 such an expression of heart-broken sadness, that she at once won all 
 the sympathy and compassion which Stuart's gallant heart was 
 capable of yielding. Her husband, for some reasons known only to 
 himself, treated her with a marked coldness^ and even harshness, 
 which he cared not to conceal, even before their military guest. 
 
 The poor timid woman seemed to shrink within herself whenever 
 she found the keen stern eye of Alvarado turned upon her. Often 
 
THE EOMANCE OP WAS. 387 
 
 during the evening repast, which had been hastily prepared for 
 Eonald, and with which, in consequence of the host's beb:mour, he 
 was disgusted, — often did he feel inchned to smite him on xhc mouth, 
 for the unkind thiuis which he addi-essed to his drooping wife. 
 
 In truth, they were a singular couple as it had ever been liis for- 
 tune to meet with. Although there was no duenna about the esta- 
 blishment, thus affording a rare example of love and fidelity in the 
 lady, yet her husband seemed to take a strange and most unmanly 
 pleasure in mortifying her, and endeavouring to render her con- 
 temptible in the estimation of the stranger. The latter, although ho 
 felt very uncomfortable, aflected not to be conscious of Alvarado's 
 conduct, and conversed with ease on various topics, and generally of 
 the long war which had been so successfully terminated. When the 
 meal Avas ended. Donna Ximena bowed, and faltering out, " Addios, 
 ' senores ! buenanoche!" withdrew, leaving her ungracious husband 
 and his guest over their wine. 
 
 Over his flasks of rich Ciudad Real the don grew animated, and 
 retailed many anecdotes of scenes he had witnessed, and adventures 
 in which ho had borne a part, while serving with Don Julian Sanchez. 
 Some of these stories he would have done well to have suppressed, 
 as they would have baffled even the imagination of the most bloody- 
 minded romancer to conceive. But a revengeful and hot-brained 
 Spaniard surpasses every other man in cruelty. He said that, like 
 the parents of Julian Sanchez, his father, mother, and sister had 
 been murdered by the French, and on their graves he had sworn by 
 cross and dagger to revenge them; and terribly had he kept his 
 formidable vow. During the whole of the war of independence, he 
 had never yielded quarter or mercy, but put the wounded and cap- 
 tives to that dentil which he said their atrocities deserved. He 
 boasted tliat his stiletto had drunk the blood of a hundred hearts, 
 and in support of many avowals of instances of particular ferocity, 
 he cited the Gacete de Valencia, in the columns of which, he said, 
 his deeds and patriotism had all been duly extolled. Disgusted with 
 his host, and the strange tenor of his conversation, Ronald soon 
 withdrew to rest, pleading as an excuse for so doing, his desire to 
 commence his journey to Toulouse early on the morrow, which he 
 must needs do, if he would be in time for the embarkation of his 
 regiment. 
 
 The furniture and ornaments of his sleeping apartment were richer 
 and more beautiful than he could have expected them to be on the 
 southern side of the Pyrenees ; but the plunder of Gascon chateavix, 
 when guerilla bands made occasional descents to the north, sei^ved 
 to replenish many of the mansions that had been ravaged and ruined 
 by the troops of Prance when retreating. The bed-hangings v^ere 
 of white satin, fringed with silver ; the cliairs were covered with 
 crimson velvet, and yet bore on the back the gilded coat-armorial of 
 some French family. A splendid clock, covered by a glass, ticked 
 upon an antique mantel-piece of carved cedar : and several glooniy 
 portraits of severe-looking old cavaliers, in the slashed doublets, high 
 ruffs, and peaked beards worn in Spain a hundred years before, hung 
 around the walls. The tall casemented wuidows came down to the 
 tiles of the floor, and through the half open hangings were seen the 
 bright stars, the blue sky, the long dark vistas of the tiled roofs, and 
 the church-spire of Elizondo. 
 On the table stood a shovAT Parisian lamp, surmounted by th« 
 
888 THE BOMAIJCE OF WAB. 
 
 Eagle of the Emperor, which spread its gilt wings over a rose-coloured 
 glass glohe, from "vvhich a soft light was diffused through the apart- 
 ment. Throwing himself into an easy chair with a most nonchalant 
 manner, Stuart made a careless survey of the place. 
 
 " Well, Ronald Stuart ; truly this is a snug billet ! " he soliloqui2ed, 
 as he placed his feet on the rail of the charcoal hrasero, which smoul- 
 dered and glowed on the hearth. " Rich in the plunder of France, 
 'tis as splendid a billet as Campbell's could have been, when quartered 
 in the harem of Alexandria. But assuredly this Alvarado de — de 
 Castellon de la Plana is, by his own account, one of the most savage 
 rascals unhung in Spain ; and yet I am his guest, and am to sleep 
 beneath his roof for this night. And then Donna Xunena, — by 
 Jove ! was that gentle creature mine, how I would love and cherish 
 her ! Her rogue of a husband deserves to be flogged, and pickled 
 afterward ! " 
 
 His eye fell on the timepiece, the hour-hand of which pointed to 
 eleven ; and he began to think of retiring. Unbuckling his weapons, 
 he laid them on a chair at the bedside, to be at hand in case of any 
 alarm ; and then, with the caution of an old soldier, he turned to 
 examine the means of securing the door, which was furnished with 
 a strong but rude iron bolt, which he shot into its place. 
 
 Two persons, whom for some time past he had heard conversing in 
 an adjoining room, now suddenly raised their voices, 
 
 " It shall be so. I tell you, Senor Don Alvarado — " 
 
 "Peace ! Would you awaken the cavalier in the next room ?'* 
 
 "And who is he?" cried the other furiously; "this cavalier, <^ 
 whom you have spoken thrice, who is he ? But it matters not : let 
 him keep his ears to himself, if he is given to he awake. Listeners 
 seldom hear aught that is pleasant for themselves. Said you an offi- 
 cer of Wellington's army ? He, too, shall die, if he ventures to cross 
 my path this night !" 
 
 " Carlos ! Madman ! Let me beseech you not to raise your voice 
 thus ! " entreated Alvarado in a whisper. 
 
 But Stuart had heard more than enough to whet his curiosity. 
 Indeed, owing to the tenor of those observations, — of which he had 
 been an involuntary hstener, — he considered himself entitled to sift 
 the matter to the utmost. Examining the partition, which consisted 
 only of lath and plaster, he discovered, near the ceiling, a small hole 
 in the stucco cornice which surrounded the top of the wall. 
 
 " Stratagems are fair in war," thought he, as he mounted upon a 
 side table and placed his eye to the orifice, through which he obtained 
 a complete survey of the next apartment. A lustre hung from the 
 roof, and its Ught revealed Alvarado and Don Carlos Avallo, — a 
 young cavalier, about three-and-twenty years of age, whom he 
 remembered to have met at Aranjuez and other places. Alvarado, 
 who was entreating him to lower his voice, was standing half-un- 
 dressed, — at least without his vest, doublet, and girdle, as if he had 
 been preparing for rest when disturbed by the visit of Avallo, who 
 appeared to have entered by the %vindow, which stood half open. A 
 short but graceful Spanish mantle enveloped the left side of this 
 young cavalier, who wore his broad hat pulled over his face ; but his 
 fierce dark eyes flashed and gleamed brightly beneath its shade, like 
 those of a tiger in the dark ; and when at times the rays of hght fell 
 on his swarthy cheek, it seemed inflamed with ra^ while his teeth 
 were clenched, and his lips pale and quivering. He kept his left 
 
THE EOMAJSfCE OF WAE. 389 
 
 hand free from the folds of his velvet mantle, but his fingers grasped 
 trembhngly the hilt of a poniard, which appeared mtli a brace of 
 pistols in his embroidered girdle. A gold crucifix gUttered on his 
 breast, and a long black feather, fastened in the band of his hat, 
 floated gracefully over his left shoulder. He appeared a striking and 
 romantic figure as he stood confronting Alvarado, with his proud 
 head drawn back and his right foot placed forward, while he surveyed 
 the proprietor of the mansion with eyes keen and fiery, and with 
 rage and unutterable scorn bristling on every hair of his smart 
 moustaches. 
 
 " Look you, Alvarado," said he, after a very long pause ; " I will 
 not be trifled with ! Santos ! my dagger is likely to punch an un- 
 happy hole in the old friendship we have so often vowed to each 
 other over our cups at Salamanca, if we come not to some terms 
 this very night. Beard o' the Pope, senor! I am not now the 
 simple student I was then. Alvarado ! you know me. This night, 
 then—" 
 
 " There is but one hour of it to run," observed the other, in a 
 deprecating tone. " There is but one hour — " 
 
 " Time enough, and to spare, then, thou base juggler ! " 
 
 " What would you have, insolent ?" said Alvarado, fiercely, as he 
 closed tae casement with violence. " To-morrow I will meet you in 
 the pass of Lanz, and there, with pistols, with sword, or with dagger, 
 I will yield you that satisfaction for which you have such a craving." 
 
 The other laughed scornfully. " No, no, my blustering guerilla ! 
 such a meeting will not suit my purpose. Every drop of blood in the 
 veins of your body would not wash away the insult you are likely to 
 cast upon the name of Avallo by means of this poor sister of mine. 
 Hear me, Don Alvarado ! and hear me for the last time ! I tell you 
 that my sister has been wronged, — basely ^vronged and betrayed by 
 you ! I want not your blood ; but do my sister justice, or, by the 
 bones of Eodrigo ! I will make all Spain ring with the tidings of 
 Avallo's vengeance ! " 
 
 " How ! " said the other sullenly ; " do her justice ? " 
 
 " Wed her, — ay, before this week is out ! " 
 
 " A week is a short time, Senor Carlos ; and you forget that Ximena 
 is likely to hve for many months yet," said the other with a grim 
 smile. " Marry Elvira ? Eool ! the cursed trammels of one untappy 
 marriage are wound around me already." 
 
 " You are a Spaniard, senor, — my friend," replied Avallo scornfully, 
 " and can easily find some means to break these trammels you speak 
 of. Thanks to our sunny clime, the yoke of blessed matrimony sits 
 lightly on our necks. This little chit of Asturia, your wife, shall not 
 long be a bar in the way of righting my sister's honour." 
 
 " Ximena—" 
 
 "Let her die!" said the young desperado, with a thick voice of 
 concentrated passion ; " let her die this very night — this very hour ! 
 She is a desolate woman. Should her death be suspected, who shall 
 avenge her? All her kindred perished when the French sacked 
 Madrid. Shall she take her departure to a better place to-night, 
 then?" 
 
 " Villain !" exclaimed Alvarado, flinging away from him; "speak 
 again of that, and I will slay you where you stand !" 
 
 " Pooh ! " replied the other with contempt. " I have three trusty 
 mates within cry, whose daggers would slash to ribands every humau 
 
890 THE ROIIAXCE OF VTArt. 
 
 being your house contains ; so talk gently of slajing, senor. By Sa}h- 
 iiago! if it needs must be, all Spain shall know that Don Carlos 
 Avallo is a cavalier as jealous of his s-ister^s honour and of his otvti 
 name, a^i any hidalgo between Portugal and the Pyrenees. Do you 
 still scruple ? See the hand of the clock approaches the twelfth hour." 
 
 " Hush, devil and tempter ! I tell you you are the veriest villian 
 in Spain ! " 
 
 " Hah ! I now remember. 'NLost worthy Don Alvarado, I suppose 
 I must acquaint my uncle the prime-minister vnih the name oi' the 
 traitor who betrayed to the savage Mazzachelli, the Italian follower 
 of Buonaparte, the long-defended town of Hostalrich, that he might 
 obtain revenge by meanly destrojing its governor, the brave Don 
 Julian de Estrada. I have to say but two words of this matter to 
 the minster at Madrid, and, Alvarado, thou art a lost man ! " 
 
 Alvarado's large eyes gleamed with vindictive fury, w' hile his olive 
 cheek grew pale as death. 
 
 " A craven cavalier, truly ! " continued the ferocious Avallo, regard- 
 ing him with a countenance expressive of stern curiosity, and cool, 
 but triumphant derision. " Homhre ! you know that I have heard 
 of that misdeed of yours ; and should 1 breathe but a word abroad 
 about the unpleasant fact, your ample estates will be pressed into the 
 royal purse, and your neck in the ring of the garrote, as surelj as my 
 name is Avallo. Choose, then," said he, in a deliberate tone, '" choose, 
 then, between utter destruction and the death of this pale-faced 
 Ximena. The beauty of Elvira will make you ample amends. Her 
 beauty, — But you have already judged of that, Senor Triaquero," he 
 added bitterly. 
 
 " Wine, or something else, has made you mad," said the other, 
 with an attempt to be bold. "Think not that I will permit you to 
 lord it over me thus. And as for that affair you spoke of — Hostalrich 
 — something more vrill be requisite than the mere assertion of a sub- 
 altern of the Castel Blazo regiment, to destroy the hard-won honour 
 and doubloons of such a cavalier as myself." 
 
 " Perfectly reasonable, "said the other, scornfully. " Three different 
 letters, written by you to Mazzachelh, and dated from Hostalrich, 
 are abundant proof. I found them on the road-side near Vittoria, 
 amidst a wilderness of papers ; and now tbev are in the safe strong- 
 box of a certain lawyer, subtle as the devil himself." 
 
 Alvarado sunk into a chair, and covered his face with his hands, to 
 hide the rage and mortification which distorted it 
 
 " Hostalrich ! Hah ! 'twas a brave siege that ! " said his tormentor, 
 contemplating his dismay with a triumphant smile. "And then pooj 
 Don Julian, to be so basely betrayed, after all his chivalric defence 
 and deeds of arms ! But to return. Ximena, — ^is not her chamber 
 at the end of the gallery ? " 
 
 " It is," faltered the other. 
 
 " 'Tis well," rephed Avallo, striking his hand on the casement. The 
 dark figure of a stranger appeared in the balcony outside the window. 
 After a few moment's conference he \\ithdrew. 
 _ " Let us only keep quiet," said he, turning a httle pale, as he ex- 
 tinguished the ligh^ in the lustre. " Retire to bed, Senor Alvarado, 
 who is soon to become the husband of Elvira Avallo. Sleep sound, 
 for Ximena will be found cold in the morning ; and see that, in the 
 critical hour of discovery, your wonted cunning fails you not. Show 
 grief, and rage, and tears; you understand me ? .Diavolo ! I hopo 
 
THE BOMANCE OF WAS. 391 
 
 your wails are built substantially. Should the guest v/ho occupies 
 the next room have overheard us, all is lost, l^ut I have arranged 
 for him. To make sure of his silence, Narvaez Cifucnte.s shall way- 
 lay him among the mountains at Roucesvalles, where even the sword 
 of Eohnd would fail to aid him now-a-days." 
 
 "While the cavalier, probably to keep up the courage of his com- 
 panion, continued to speak away in loud and incautious tones, Stuart- 
 descended from his eminence, where, with considerable repugnance, 
 he had acted the eaves-dropper so long ; and, drawing his sword, 
 advanced to the room-door. In his eagerness to unfasten it the 
 handle of the bolt broke, leaving it still in its place ; and the door 
 remained shut and immovable. A cold perspiration burst over 
 Ronald's brow. The life of the poor lady seemed to hang but by a 
 hair. 
 
 " What evil spirit crosses me now ? " he muttered. " A momenti 
 like this may cause the repentance of a life-time. xVh, assassins, I 
 shall mar you yet.'' Unsheathing his dirk, he applied it to the iron- 
 plate on which the bolt ran in a groove. He attempted to wrench it 
 off: the thick blade of the long dagger bent like whalebone, and 
 threatened every instant to snap, while the envious and obstinate 
 bolt remained tirm as a rock. 
 
 A cry— a shrill and wailing cry, which was succeeded by a gurgling 
 groan, arose from the end of the corridor. The fate of Ximena was 
 sealed ! Grown desperate, Stuart rushed against the door, and apply- 
 ing his foot, sent frame, panels, and everything flying along the pas- 
 sage in fifty fragments. A lustre of coloured lamps, which hung from 
 the ceiling, revealed to him Donna Ximena in her night-dress, rush- 
 ing from an opposite door. Her long black hair was unbound, and 
 streamed down her uncovered back and bosom, the pure white of 
 which was stained with blood, that had also drenched her linen vest 
 and wrapper. These were her only attii*e. A villain, wearing a 
 dark dress, and having his face concealed by a black velvet mask, was 
 in pursuit ; and, catching her by her long flowing hair, at the very 
 moment of her escape from the door, dashed her shrieking to the 
 earth with his left hand, while the short stiletto which armed his 
 right was twice buried in her neck and bosom. Almost at the same 
 moment the long double-edged broad-sword of the Highlander 
 was driven througli his body, and, wallowing in blood, the stricken 
 bravo sunk beside the warm and yet quivering corpse of his victim. 
 His comrade escaped, and RonalcL, disdaining again to strike, with- 
 drew slowly his dripping blade^ and placed his foot upon his neck. 
 
 " Hah ? Senor Narvaez ! " said he. " Devil incarnate ? the murder 
 of Donna Catalina and the wound at Merida are revenged now ; and 
 'tis happily from my hand you have received the earthly punishment 
 due to your crimes."' 
 
 He tore the visor from the face of the bleeding man, and, to his 
 equal disappointment and sui^prise, beheld, not tlie rascal visage of 
 Cifueutes, but the tierce and forbidding countenance of one that 
 might well have passed for his brother. Death and malice were 
 glaring in his yellow eyes, and his features were horribly distorted 
 by the agony he endured. By this time the whole household were 
 alarmed, and servants, male and female, came rushing to the place 
 with consternation and horror imprinted on their features. The 
 aged contador of the mansion appeared in his trunk-brccches and 
 nightcai^, armed with a dagger and ferule ; the fat old boarded butler 
 
392 THE BOMAKCE oF WAS. 
 
 came to the scene of action clad only in his doublet and shirt, and 
 grasping, for defence, a couple of pewter flasks by the neck : the 
 other servants bore knives, stilettoes, pikes, spits, and whatever 
 weapons chance had thro^^^l in their way. 
 
 On beholding their lady dead on the floor, a man dying beside her, 
 and Stuart standing over them with a crimson weaiK>n in his hand, 
 they uttered a shout and prepared for a general assault. A bloody 
 engagement might have commenced, when the villanous Don 
 Alvarado appeared, with dismay and grief so strongly imprinted on 
 his countenance, that Stuart was almost inclined to doubt the 
 evidence of his own senses, and to believe the conversation with 
 Carlos Avallo must have been a dream. He looked around for that 
 worthy hidalgo ; but, on the first alarm, he had vanished through 
 the window of Alvarado's room. The last-named gentleman seemed 
 inclined to impute the whole affair to Stuart, and a serious tumult 
 would unquestionably have ensued, had not a party of the Alava 
 regiment, who formed the guard on the Conde Villamur's house, 
 arrived with fixed bayonets, and carried off all the inmates prisoners. 
 Perceiving Ronald's uniform, the serjeant commanding the escort 
 desired him to retain his sword, and seemed disposed to allow him to 
 depart ; but a syndic, with a band of alguazils, burst in with their 
 staves and halberts, and insisted on the whole party being taken to 
 the house of Micer Bartolme, the alcalde, on the opposite side of 
 the Plaza. 
 
 The magistrate was clamorously roused from bed, and forced to 
 take his seat and hear the case. He was very sulky at being dis- 
 turbed, and, seated in his easy chair, wrapped a blanket around him, 
 and frowned with legal dignity on all in the crowded apartment. 
 Eonald felt considerable anxiety for the issue of the affair, as all 
 present seemed disposed to consider him guilty ; and he certainly had 
 no ambition to die a martyr to their opinions. The dead body of 
 Ximena de Morla was deposited on the floor. Her cheek was yet of 
 a pale oUve colour ; but all her skin that was bare, — her neck, bosom, 
 arms, and ankles, were white as the new-fallen snow, and beautifully 
 deUcate. A mass of dark curls and braids fell from her head, and 
 lay almost beneath the feet of the pale group around her. 
 
 A flickering lamp threw its changeful gleams upon the company, 
 and by its Ught a clerk sat, pen in hand, to note the proceedings. 
 Every person present being sworn across the blades of two poniards, 
 the examination commenced, each witness stating what he knew in 
 presence of the others. The bravo, having declared that he was 
 dying, called eagerly for a priest, that he might be confessed. 
 Accordingly, a padre belonging to a mountain-convent, who 
 happened to be that night in the house, approached slowly, and in 
 no very agreeable mood, for his brain was yet reeling with the fumes 
 of his debauch overnight ^vith the alcalde, who had stripped him of 
 every maravedi at faro. The moaning rufl&an lay upon the floor, 
 still and motionless ; but the blood fell pattering from his undressed 
 wound upon the damp tiles, while his thick beard and matted hair 
 were clotted with the perspiration which agony had wrung from his 
 frame, 
 
 A dead silence was maintained by all in the apartment while the 
 padre knelt over the assassin, and, in the dark comer where he lay, 
 heard his low-muttered confession of crimes that would have made 
 the hairs on his scalp — had there been any — bristle with horroK 
 
THE EOIIAXCE OF WAS. 39S 
 
 Dreadful was the anxiety of the dying wretch, whose coward soul 
 was now recoiling at the prospect of death, and with desperation he 
 clung to the hopes given him by his superstitious faith. Ever and 
 anon he grasped the dark robe, the knotted cord, or the bare feet of 
 the Franciscan, beseeching him to pity, to save, to forgive him : and 
 the accents in which he spoke were terrible to hear. The clerk sat 
 smoking a papeo* cigar, and scraping away assiduously at a quill, 
 while the alcalde nodded in his chair and fell fast asleep. The 
 alguazils leant on their halberts, and coolly surveyed the company. 
 A murder, which would have filled all Scotland with horror, in 
 Elizondo scarcely created surprise. But the halberdiers were ac- 
 customed almost daily to brawls and deeds of blood, so that their 
 apathy could scarcely be wondered at. 
 
 The half-clad servants crowded together in fear, and Ronald stood 
 aloof, regarding with the utmost commiseration the form of the poor 
 Spanish lady, exposed thus in its half-clad state to the gaze of the 
 rude and vulgar. He kept a watchful eye on Alvarado, that he 
 might not, by sign or bribe, cause the padre to put any false 
 colouring on the statements whispered to him by the dying man, 
 when he would have to recapitulate them to the alcalde. The 
 cavalier never dared to look in the direction Avhere his murdered 
 wife lay ; but, turning his back upon it, maintained a sulky dignity, 
 and continued to polish with his glove the hilt of his stiletto, 
 seeming, in that futile occupation, to be wholly abstracted from 
 worldly matters, while he muttered scarcely audible threats against 
 the alcalde, the syndic, and their followers, for their interference. 
 The bravo, having handed over to the confessor all his loose change, 
 received in return an assurance of the forgiveness of mother church 
 for all his misdeeds, which seemed to console him mightily. The 
 padre mumbled a little Latin, and assuring him he might die in 
 peace, buttoned his pouch, containing the ill-gotten cash, with a 
 very self-satisfied air. It almost reimbursed the last night's losses at 
 faro. Nevertheless, the terrors of the guilty ^'VTetch returned ; he 
 moaned heavily, and grasping the skirt of the Franciscan's cassock, 
 besought him earnestly not to leave him in so terrible a moment. 
 He often pressed the friar's crucifix to his lips ; and the groans of 
 mental and bodily agony which escaped from them were such as 
 Ronald Stuart had never heard before, — and he had stood on many 
 a battle-field. The bravo believed himself dying, and, at his request, 
 the Franciscan repeated aloud his confession, in which he declared 
 himself guilty of the ladjr's murder, and exculpated every one, save 
 his comrade Cifuentes, who gave the first stroke, and Don Carlos 
 Avallo, who, for twenty dollars, had secured the service of their 
 daggers, — but for what reason he knew not. He ended by a bitter 
 curse on Stuart, whom he ceased not to revile ; and he vowed that, 
 if he could rise from the grave, he would haunt him to the latest day 
 of his existence. Ronald heard the ravings of the wretch with pity, 
 and was very thankful that, in the extremity of his agony and 
 hatred, he had not declared him guilty of the murder of both. 
 
 " Santa Maria de Bios !" muttered the servants, signing the 
 cross, and shrinking back aghast at the ravings of the wounded man. 
 
 " Base scullion ! " cried the sleepy magistrate, addressing the 
 assassin, " I mil make you pay dearly for disturbing me of my 
 night's rest. Vile ladron ! the screw of the garrote ■^^111 compress 
 yonr filthy weasand tighter than you will find agreeable. Take your 
 
3M THE BOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 pen, senor escrivano, and write to our dictation a warrant to appre- 
 hend, in the king's name, a certain noble cavalier, by name Don 
 Carlos Avallo, for causing the death of this honourable lady. And 
 further—" 
 
 He -was interrupted by Alvarado, who desired imperiously that he 
 would leave Avallo to be dealt with otherwise ; and tossing his purse, 
 which seemed heavy, into the alcalde's kp, he requested iiim to close 
 this disagreeable business at once. 
 
 " Faix ! as we say at faro, — double or quits ; a very noble cavalier ! " 
 muttered the partly-tipsy and partly-sleepv alcalde, pocketing the 
 cash without betrajing the least emotion. ^' Ho, scnor scribe ! give 
 thy Avarrant to the devil to light his cigar \\\i\\. JBueno ! "lis a drawn 
 game. Dismiss the senors, — the court is broken up." 
 
 Bestowing a menacing glance on Stuart, Alvarado Vvithdrew ; the 
 aJguazils departed, taking the bravo with them, to get his "v^ounds 
 dressed before they hanged him ; and the corse of Ximena was borne 
 off by her female servants, who were loudly bewailing the loss of so 
 good a mistress. 
 
 Day had dawned upon this ertraordinary court, and its pale light 
 was struggling for mastery with the flame of the lamp, ere the 
 magistrate so abruptly closed the strange investigation. After all 
 that had happened, Ilonald could not return to the raPcUsion of 
 Alvarado; but, sending for his horse, at the invitation of the alcalde, 
 and -vnth the permission of the alcalde's lady, he remained that day 
 at their house, as he was too much wearied by the want of sleep to 
 commence his journey at the time he ha,d intended. To Micer 
 Bartolme he related the conversation he had overheard, and insisted 
 on Don Alvarado's villany being punished, threatening, for that 
 purpose, to wait upon the Coude Fenna Villamur, and state to liim 
 all that he knew of the matter. 
 
 " By doing so, you would not gain anything equal to what you 
 stake, — your life," replied the magistrate quietly, pufl&ng away at a 
 long Cuba the while. "Hark you, senor offi-cial ; I Adsh you no 
 liarm, but bevrare how you cross the path or purposes of Casteiioa 
 de la Plana. He is a lierce hidalgo, and never spared man or 
 woman in his hate of vengeance ; and his gossip, Don Carlos Avallo, 
 is a bom devil, a very imp of Satanas ! I know them both of old, 
 rnd would fain keep the peace with them, or my place of alcalde 
 ^TOuld 7iot be v/orth a rotten castano. Think not that I deal with 
 you falsely in saying these things. Heaven knows how many 
 <:laggers Alvarado's gold m^.y have sharpened against you ere this. 
 His look, as he departed, boded you no good. You are a stranger in the 
 land, and if you v>ill take sound advice, keep close within my house 
 until to-morrow, when you can depart vrith the padre Guiseppe. 
 He goes by the way of the Maya rock to his convent, and will show 
 you the road to France." 
 
 Ronald felt the force of this advice, which was so cunningly im- 
 parted, that he never suspected a hidden meaning But the alcalde, 
 '.rith a treachery not uncommon in Spain, was in communication 
 "'Tith Alvarado, who bribed him to detain the stranger until a plan 
 was completed for his ensnarement among the mountains. 
 
 Not\nth.«;tanding Bartolme's advice, Stuart often -^vished, during 
 that irksome day, to enjoy a ramble about Elizondo, but vras as often 
 warned that ill-looking picaros were evidently watching the house. 
 This information served only to set his blood on fire, and he fretted 
 
THE KOMANCE OF WAH. Z\jo 
 
 and fumea like a caged lion, and would have sallied out in spite of 
 ihe solemn warnings and injunctions, but the magistrate, with a 
 cunning air ol" aflectionate and jjatcrnal solicitude, barred his way, 
 and in so kind a manner, that it was impossible to be angry. All 
 this was mere acting. Old JNIicer Bartolme and the iVanciscaii 
 brother were two arrant sharpers and knaves ; but llonald resisted 
 firmly all their attempts to engage him in gambling, and the day 
 was passed Avithout a card or dice being produced, greatly to the 
 chagrin of the friends, who, after having sold the stranger to 
 Alvarado, were desirous to strip him of his last peseta. 
 
 Next morning, a,tthe old marching time, an hour before daybreak, 
 he quitted Elizondo. He departed at that early hour for the double 
 purpose of " stealing a march " on Alvarado's spies, if any were 
 really planted upon him, and of proceeding expeditiously on his 
 journey. His horse was well refreshed by the delay at Elizondo, 
 and carried him along at a rapid trot. The padre Giuseppe, v;ith 
 whose presence and conversation he could very well have dispensed, 
 jogged on by his side, mounted uneasily upon the hindmost part of a 
 stout ass, — an animal not so much despised in Spain as among us, 
 by w'hom the large black cross borne by every donkey on his back, is 
 neither remarked nor reverenced. As they passed from the Calle 
 Mayor into the Plam, Giuseppe pointed out, jocularly, the body of 
 the dead bravo, still seated upright on the chair of the garrote, 
 wdiich was elevated on a scaffold about four feet above the street ; 
 and his reverence increased the disgust of his com.panions by 
 passing several very unfriarly jokes upon the appearance of the 
 corpse. 
 
 On quitting Elizondo, they took the direct road for Maya. Stuart 
 made this circuit for the purpose of avoiding any snare laid for him 
 among the mountains by Don Carlos or Alvarado, who well knew 
 how to employ and communicate with those viUains w^ho infest 
 every part of Spain. Evil was impending, and he might have es- 
 caped it by taking the Roncesvalles road, or had his deceitful com- 
 panion, the Pranciscan, warned him : but for the bribe of a few 
 dollars, ]\Iicer Bartolme had purchased his silence. A few mOes 
 from Elizondo they passed a ruinous chapel where some French 
 prisoners had been confined, and, by a strange refinement of cruelty, 
 starved to death by their guards, — the guerillas of old Salvador de 
 Zagala. The floor was yet strewed with the bones of these un- 
 fortunates, who fell victims to a savage spirit of retaliation, and 
 almost within sight of the fertile plains of their native country. 
 The Franciscan continued to mutter prayers and make the sign of 
 the cross with affected devotion, while Stuart surveyed the ghastly 
 place with siunDrise and indignation. 
 
 " La Caza de Dios" said he, reading the legend on the lintel of 
 . the door. " Alas ! how it has been desecrated ! " 
 
 The priest made no reply, but moved onward, kicknig with his 
 spurless heels the sounding sides of his horrica, leaving lionald to 
 follow as he pleased- 
 After riding a few miles further, they stopped at a quinta, or 
 country-house, an unusual thing in Spain : and had not the pro- 
 prietor been a well-known contrabandist a, it would soon have been 
 sacked and bvn*ned by the banditti in the neighbourhood. The 
 owner was absent, b'lt the p^fronfj spread before her guests a 
 tolerable repast oi bavaiao, ureaa ol milno or Indian corn flour, de- 
 
396 THE EOMAXCE OF WAB. 
 
 lightful fresh butter named manteca, and garlic, onions, lupines, wine, 
 and cider in abundance ; for all of which she would receive nothing but 
 the padre's blessing and a kiss of peace, which the reverend Giuseppe 
 bestowed upon her plump olive cheek with a hearty good will, of 
 which her husband might not have approved had he been consulted. 
 
 At Maya Stuart dined with the monks of the Franciscan convent. 
 He had an excellent repast, composed of all the good things which 
 the district could afford. The clergy of every country are certainly 
 ardent lovers of all the good things of this life, however much they 
 may preach and declaim against tliem. Poor though Spain may be 
 generally, it is within the stout old walls of the gloomy and spacious 
 convento that the richest wines, the most delicate fruits, the most 
 tempting viands, and the most massive plate, are ever to be found. 
 Quite the reverse of the humble, dejected, and mortifying begging 
 ' friars, from whom they took their name, Eonald found the 
 Franciscans of Maya all very jovial fellows, who could laugh until 
 they almost choked, and could push the can about, and give vent at 
 times to a most unclerical oath. Most of them had been serving in 
 the guerilla bands, and at the peace had resumed the cassock and 
 cope, the mass-book and rosary; but the blustering manners ac- 
 quired under such leaders as Slina and Julian Sanchez, together 
 V, ith the coarse sentiments of the dissolute and irregular lives they 
 had led, appeared continually through their hypocritical airs and the 
 sombre disguise of the cloister. And such as these are the men who 
 are welcomed to every hearth and home in Spain ! who are the 
 advisers of the young, the companions of the old, and the confessors 
 and the spiritual consolers of all, and into whose ears many a 
 female pours the inmost secrets of her heart, — secrets which, 
 perhaps, she would have revealed to no other mortal living ! 
 
 To pay for his entertainment, Stuart deposited a handful of jjese^as 
 at the shrine of the Virgin, whose portrait in the niche, padre 
 Giuseppe informed him, was that of the qnerida of the padre abbot. 
 The fairest dame in Maya had sat for it, to please the superior, who 
 now never prayed before any other image. CompHmenting the 
 abbot on his taste, Stuart mounted, and bade the holy fathers adieu, 
 tired alike of their manners and their cloister scandal. 
 
 He was now riding straight on the road for France. After he 
 passed the rock of Maya, every rood of ground became as familiar to 
 him as the scenery of his native glen. The sim was setting as he 
 entered the pass, and as its Hght waxed more dim and sombre, his 
 thoughts grew sadder and more gloomy ; for all the excitement of 
 war had now passed away, and the kindlier feelings had begun to 
 resume their sway in the heart. He felt an unaccountable melan- 
 choly stealing over him, but whether it was caused by a presentiment 
 — a prophetic sense of hidden danger, or by recollections awakened 
 by the surrounding scenery, I know not : probably by the latter. 
 
 Poor Alister Macdonald was with him the last time he trod that 
 way so merrily to the strain of the pipe. He was now vrithin a few 
 feet of his tomb, and all the memory of their past friendship came 
 gushing upon his remembrance. He stayed his horse, for a short 
 space, to gaze upon the scene of that contest, so fierce and so bloody, 
 where his brave brigade had fought with a spirit of gallantry and 
 chivalric devotion equalling that of Leonidas and his Spartans. 
 Where the roar of so many thousand muskets had once rung like 
 thunder among the hUls, all was now sileat, stiluess was broken 
 
THE EOMANCE OF "WAS. 397 
 
 only by the scream of the wild bird, as, warned by the falling dew 
 and deepening shadows, it winged its way to its eyrie among the 
 
 " Well may the flowerets bloom, and the grass be verdant here ! '* 
 thought Stuart. " Every foot of ground has been drenched in the 
 blood of the brave ! " 
 
 The place presented the appearance of an old church-yard which 
 had been shaken by an earthquake. In some places skeletons lay 
 uncovered, and in others the grass grew long and rank above the 
 mounds. 
 
 A green stone, with its head of moss, marked the resting-place of 
 Alister, that looked like one of those solitary old graves which, on 
 the Scottish moors, mark the resting-place of a covenanting warrior. 
 The earth which Evan's hands had heaped over it, was now covered 
 with long weeds and nettles, waving sadly in the mnd as it whistled 
 down the pass. The remnants of uniform, broken weapons, ammuni- 
 tion-paper, and all the usual appurtenances of an old battle-field, 
 lay strewn about. The great cairn raised by the Gordon High- 
 landers to mark where their officers were buried, cast a long spectral 
 shadow across the ground, for now the broad disk of the sun was 
 just dipping behind the mountains. The scene was gloomy and 
 terrible, and Stuart was scarcely able to repress a shudder, as the 
 recollections of the dead came crowding fast and thick upon him. 
 But, bestowing a last look on romantic Spain, the land of bright 
 eyes, of the mantilla, of the dagger, and the guitar, he turned, and 
 rode down the narrow mountain-path to the northward. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVIII. 
 
 CIFFENTES. 
 
 The night was approaching, and Ronald being anxious to reach 
 Los Alduides, Cambo, or any other village on the route for Toulouse, 
 rode as rapidly as the rough and steep nature of the mountain-path 
 would permit. As he descended towards the Lower Pyrenees, the 
 ground became more irregular, and the road at times wound below 
 beethng crags and through narrow gorges, which were scarcely 
 illuminated by the red light from the westward. 
 
 Twice or thrice Ronald beheld, or imagined that he beheld, ahead, 
 surmounted by a high-crowned and broad-leaved hat, observing his 
 progress from the summit of the rocks skirting a narrow dell, through 
 which he rode. This kept him on the alert, and the threatening 
 words of Don Carlos Avallo recurred to him. He halted, drew his 
 saddle-girths tighter, and looked to his pistols, leaving unstrapped the 
 bear-skm which covered the holsters. At the very moment when he 
 was putting his foot in the stirrup to remount, a musket was dis- 
 charged from the top of a neighbouring cliff, and the ball fell flattened 
 from a rock within a yard of his head. The white smoke was floating 
 upwards through the still air, but no person was visible. 
 
 " Banditti, by Heaven ! " exclaimed the startled and enraged 
 Highlander, as he sprang on the snorting steed. " Farewell, Spain ! 
 and may all mischief attend you, from the Pillars of Hercules to 
 these infernal Pyrenees ! I wish the Nive rolled between them and 
 
 II. 2X> 
 
31SB THE EOWLLNCE OP WAE. 
 
 me ! But if swift hoolis and a stout blade will serve me in penl, 1 
 shall bo in broad Gascony to-night." 
 
 Onward went Egypt at a full gallop, which was soon brought to a 
 stop on his turning an angle of the rocks. Across the narrow path- 
 way a number of men were busily raising a barricade of turf, branches, 
 and earth; but on Ronald's appearance they snatched up their 
 carbines, and leaping up the rocks with the agihty of monkeys, 
 disa^ipeared. 
 
 " There is an ambush here," muttered Stuart. " Oh ! could we 
 but meet on the mountain-side to-night, Senor Avallo, I would teach 
 you a sham lesson for the time to come. On now ! on, for death 
 or life!" 
 
 He had very little practice in the true scientific mode of clearing a 
 tive-barred gate, but he feared not to leap with any man who ever 
 held a rein ; and when riding a Higiilaud shelty at home, had leapt 
 from rock to rock, and from chff to cliff, over roaring lynns, ya^\Tiing 
 chasms, and gloomy corries, which, would have caused the heart of a 
 Lowlander even to thrill with fear. Grasi)ing a steel pistol in each 
 hand, he came furiously do\vn the path, with his belted plaid and 
 ostrich feathers streaming far behind him. 
 
 *' On, Egypt, on ! brave and noble horse ! " said he, encouragmg 
 the line old trooper Avith words of cheer, at the same time goring his 
 flanks with the sharp iron rowels. The steed bounded onward to 
 the desperate leap ; and when "within a few yards of the barrier, 
 straining every sinew and fibre until they became like iron, he 
 bounded into the air with such velocity, that the rider almost lost 
 his breath, yet sat gallantly, with his head up and his reins low. At 
 that very moment a deadly volley — a cross-fire from more than a 
 dozen muskets — flashed from the dark rocks around. Several balls 
 pierced the body of the horse, which uttered a snorting cry of pain, 
 and Eonald felt it writhe beneath him in the air. Instead of alight- 
 ing on its hoofs, down it came, thundering ^'^itll its forehead on the 
 earth, to the imminent peril of the rider, who adroitly disengaged 
 himself from the stirrups and alighted on his feet, confused, breath- 
 less, and almost stunned with the shock, while the noble steed rolled 
 over en its back, and never moved again. 
 
 Eonald was now in deadly jeopardy. Headed by Narvaez 
 Cifuentes, a well-armed gang of Spanish desperadoes, nearly forty in 
 number, surrounded him. Although Narvaez took the most active 
 part in their proceedings, he did not appear to be their leader ; and 
 Stuart, when he knew that liis lile was forfeited by his falling into 
 such hands, resolved that they should gain it dearly. He had broken 
 his claymore and lost a pistol in the leap ; but with the other he shot 
 dead one assailant, and drawing his long dirk, struck fearlessly 
 amongst them, right and left. He buiied the steel claw of his High- 
 land pistol in the head of one fellow, whose only defence was a red 
 cotton montero, cr cap ; and he drove his left-handed weapon so far 
 into the shoulder of another, that it remained as fast as if diiven 
 into a log of wood. All this was the work of a moment ; but he was 
 immediately after these exploits, lieaten to the earth Avith the butts 
 of their fire-arms ; and a Portuguese dealt him a blow on the head 
 with a cajado (a long stafi", armed with a knob), which deprived him 
 of all sensation. 
 
 "When consciousness returned, he found himself lying on the same 
 *pot where he had fallen ; but the moon Avas shining brightly, and 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 399 
 
 the banditti "were still grouped around him. He had been rifled of 
 his epaulets, his gold cross, and everything of value, save the minia- 
 ture of Alice Lisle, -svhich, being concealed, had escaped their hands. 
 The contents of the portmanteau lay strewed about, and a Spaniard, 
 in whom he recognised the ferocious young Juan de la Roca, once 
 Mina's follower, was busily occupied in relieving poor Egypt of the 
 encumbrance of his hide, which he did in a most scientific and 
 •tanner-like manner. Eonald had presence of mind enough to he 
 still, fearing that they might destroy him at once if he stirred ; but, 
 from what passed among them, he soon discovered that they were 
 w^ell aware he was only stunned when stricken doAvn. Gaspar 
 Alosegui, the powerful Spaniard who had been vanquished in feats 
 of dexterity at Aranjuez by Campbell and Dugald Mhor, was present 
 among the banditti, and, by the deference which was paid to every- 
 thing he said, appeared to be their capitan. 
 
 He wore several feathers in his hat, a costly mantle hung on his 
 left shoulder, and several rich daggers and pistols glittered in his 
 sash. His followers were variously attired and armed, but all had 
 their strong muscular feet nearly bare, while their tawny legs, desti- 
 tute of hose, were exposed to the knee. 
 
 Eonald gazed on the detestable Cifuentes vrith a fiery eye. He 
 remembered all that Catalina had suffered from his barbarity • he 
 remembered, too, the vow he had sworn to Alvaro to revenge her, 
 and his heart beat quick, while he longed to fall upon him and slay 
 him on the instant, and in the midst of his companions in crime. 
 
 " I will not now permit him to be slain, since he has fallen alive 
 into our hands," said Alosegui, addressing Narvaez in a decided 
 tone. " He is a gallant soldier, and truly he has fought well for 
 Spain. We have done enough for the doubloons of Avallo ; so stand 
 back, ]Micer IS^arvaez ! He who would smite at the stranger, must 
 do so only through my body ! " 
 
 "Angeles 7/ jDemonios ! " exclaimed the desperado hoarsely; "I 
 tell you I will have his blood, — ay, and drink it too, even as I would 
 water ! We have long been enemies ; and 'tis not Gaspar Alosegui 
 that shall rob me of the revenge so dear to every true Spaniard." 
 
 " A mad horrico, by our Lady del Pilar ! " exclaimed Gaspar, 
 interposing his bulky form. " Speak softly, Cifuentes ; and remem- 
 ber that you have proved the weight of my hand, which has been 
 thrice on your throat ere now, I believe." 
 
 The robber slirunk back, and, grasping his stiletto, gave one of 
 those formidable scowls of rage and malice which so "^vell became his 
 villanous front, his beetling brows and matted hair. 
 
 " Vincentio. the cripple, lies shot in the ditch yonder," said Juan 
 de la Eoca. ' He fell by the hand of the Briton ; his crooked joints 
 wiU no longer afford us a laugh in our den among the clifls. We 
 have lost our prime fool, senores. and I say blood for blood." 
 
 " Viva!" shouted the banditti ; "blood for blood! 'Tis guerilla 
 law : his life for Vincentio's." 
 
 " To the dogs with the cripple ! " exclaimed Gaspar. " I tell you, 
 comrades, that while I can strike a blow in his defence, he shall not 
 die ! By the beard of Satanas, the first man that whispers aught of 
 *his again, shall feel my knife between his ribs. Look you, senores 
 camarados : we have all more to gain by his life than his death. 
 ^Narvaez tells us that the cavalier is a very great friend of Alvaro of 
 Villa Pranca, whom the new government ha\e raised to the rank of 
 
 2d2 
 
*60 THE EOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 count, and to whom they have granted doubloons enough to pave the 
 higiiway from Zagala to Merida. Don Alvaro A\'ill ransom his friend, 
 and a fair sum will thus fall into our pockets. If not, the laws we 
 have formed shall take their cour&e, and the stranger must die." 
 
 But Cifnentes was still clamorous for his blood, and insisted on slay- 
 ing him with his own hand. The rising storm increased, when Eonald 
 staggered up and stood among them. Many of the banditti began 
 to prime and handle their fire-arms : and Stuart felt considerable 
 anxiety for the end of the matter. He endeavoured to second the 
 efforts'of Alosegui by a long and bitter address, in which he upbraided 
 them for their ingratitude in thus maltreating one ^vho had served 
 Spain so well, and had so often faced her enemies. He tore open 
 his jacket and displayed his scars, but he appealed to them in vain. 
 His voice was dro'WTied in peals of savage laughter, with groans and 
 yells, which roused his rage to an almost ungovernable pitch. His 
 cheek burned -with indignation as if a flame was scorching it, and his 
 blood came and went through his pulses like lightning. How he 
 longed to behold the effect of a sweeping volley of grape among these 
 brutal desperadoes, could such have been discharged upon them at 
 that moment ! He watched eagerly the war of words carried on 
 between Narvaez, Gaspar, and their adherents, and he earnestly 
 hoped that blows would soon follow ; to the end that, by arming 
 himself, he might slay some more, perhaps cut his way through them 
 and escape, or perishing, sell his life dearly as ever a brave man did 
 who died sword in hand. Eyes began to kindle, and poniards were 
 drawn, — oaths and invectives were used unsparingly on both sides, 
 and a sharp conflict would probably have decided the matter, had not 
 Juan de la Roca proposed to end the contest quietly by two throws 
 of dice, — producing, while he spoke, a box and dice from his pocket. 
 This motion was at once acceded to. Indeed these wretches seemed 
 to have no mind of their own, but to be swayed by the opinions of 
 others, as the "wind agitates the boughs of a tree. 
 
 Brows were smoothed, and weapons sheathed ; the oath and threat 
 gave place to the equally brutal jest, and the gang crowded about 
 their tall leader and his amiable lieutenant. 
 
 The fate of Eonald Stuart was to be in the power of him who 
 should throw the highest number ; and all swore on their crucifixes, 
 or on the cross guard of their poniards, to abide by the decision so 
 obtained. Eonald, with sensations ahnost amounting to frenzy, 
 beheld Gaspar and his opponent retire to a flat stone, and rattle the 
 fatal dice-box which was to determine whether or not he should be 
 ahving man in ten minutes. What a moment was this ! Eage and 
 hate, mingled ^nth sorrow and bitterness, dread and regret, — the 
 regret that a brave man feels who finds himself at the mercy of those 
 whom he despises. Almost trembhng with the feelings of mahce 
 and fury which agitated him, Cifuentes unsheathed his poniard, and 
 after carefully examining the point and edge, laid it on the stone, to 
 be ready for instant use if he won. 
 
 The moon was now shining in all her silver splendour doAvn the 
 narrow dell, and the stars, gleaming in the studded firmament, like 
 diamonds and rubies, sparkled as they do in the skies of Spain alone 
 when the atmosphere is pure and calm. Stuart beheld the blade of 
 Narvaez glancing in the moonlight, and never had he looked with, 
 such dread on a weapon as he did upon that deadly stiletto : yet he 
 had never shrunk from a line of charged bayonets, — which, as the 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 401 
 
 reader 'knows, he had faced fearlessly more than once ; but it is an- 
 other affair to be slaughtered like a lamb or a child. The green 
 swelling mountains and the dark defile were silent ; no aid was near, 
 and in every eye he read the glance of a foe. Narvaez rattled the 
 box aloft, and cast down the dice on the stone, and his adherents bent 
 over him earnestly. 
 
 " Four and five — nine ! " cried the ruffian. " Nine onzas out of 
 my first plunder will be laid on the shrine of our Lady of the Rock 
 if I win. Throw, Gaspar, — and may the devil so direct, that you 
 throw less ! " He took up his poniard with a very decided air, while 
 Gaspar in turn quietly rattled the box. 
 
 " rive and five — ten !" said he with cool triumph, looking around 
 him ; " one has saved him." 
 
 *' Stay ! let us look at them," cried Cifuentes, in a voice almost 
 amounting to a shriek. " Ten, indeed ! Far Diez J He has escaped 
 me just now. But a time may yet come — " 
 
 " Silence !" roared Gaspar. " Senor," said he. advancing towards 
 Eonald, who now began to breathe more freely, I have saved your 
 life, — for this time at least. You are now to consider yourself as our 
 prisoner. We seldom keep any unless they are likely to pay well ; 
 for the rest, we generally find a stab six inches below the shoulder, 
 the best method for getting rid of them. But remember, senor, that 
 ■we are not people to be trifled with ; therefore, attempt not to escape 
 unransomed, for death would be the penalty • j'"''-'''. ^ave heard our 
 oaths. If you have any interest here in Spam, ye ,-:' «>tiptivity will 
 not be of long duration ; and if you choose to take a turn of service 
 with us among the mountains, we may be inclined to treat you as if 
 you had the honour to be our comrade. We shall part friends, I 
 trust. Many an alcalde and padre we have had, whose ransom has 
 made us merry for months. I tell you the truth, senor ; we are men 
 of courage and honour, in spite of slander and unpleasant appear- 
 ances. We are true cavaliers of fortune, and are wont to be some- 
 what delicate on points of honour ; therefore you must neither use 
 threat nor taunt while among us, as our daggers lie somewhat loosely 
 in their scabbards. And I must add, senor ojicial, that if the Conde 
 de Villa Franca refuses to ransom you for the sum we name, the laws 
 of our society, — laws we have formed and solemnly sworn to, — must 
 take their course." 
 
 " Well, Senor Gaspar," said Stuart, who had listened coolly to all 
 this preamble with folded arms, " and your law ; what is it on that 
 particular head?" 
 
 "Death!" 
 
 " And the ransom ? " 
 
 " "Why, senor, we must arrange tnat. A cavalier is well worth a 
 prior, or ^our alcaldes ; but, as you are a soldier, and soldiers are 
 seldom overburdened by the weight of their purses, we will not be 
 severe." 
 
 " But Don Alvaro is rich," said Juan de la Roca. " Remember, 
 my friends, that he married a rich dame of Truxillo, whose estates, 
 when joined to his own, will be ample enough for a princedom, — ay, 
 for a kingdom larger than ever was Algarve." 
 
 " And bethink ye of the rich ores," said Narvaez ; " ores dug for 
 him from the bowels of the mountains at Alcocer, at Guadalcanal 
 and Cazella in Estremadura ; dug for him by the hands of wretched 
 slaves condemned to his service for petty or pretended crimes by 
 
402 THE EOMA-NCE OF WAE. 
 
 the accursed regidores, the escrivanos del numero, the alcaldes, the 
 syndics, the militai-y commanders, and the devil knows who more !" 
 
 '• Cazella ?" observed Gaspar ; " right ! there is silver and gold dug 
 there." 
 
 " Yes, and have been so ever since the days of the infidel Moors," 
 said Juan. " And Alvaro has mines of silver and copper at Logrosen, 
 and in the Sierra de Gaudaloupe. Diavolo ! senores, a heavy fine ! 
 The cavalier of Estremadura is rich, aod will redeem nis friend from, 
 death. He has but to dig when he wants gold," 
 
 " Carajo !" said a robber ; " I well know that. I was condemned 
 to dig in the mine of Logrosen for robbing a priest of his mule, and 
 I slaved away in those horrible pits until my bones well nigh parted 
 company, and my back was flayed by the thongs of the cursed over- 
 seer. But one day I dashed out his brains with a shovel, and fled to 
 the guerillas of Salvador de Zagala. A heavy ransom from Alvaro !" 
 
 "Two hundred golden onzas .'" cried Juan de la Eoca; " and if 
 villa Franca refuses, give his fiiend the Briton to feast the wolf and 
 the raven ! " 
 
 " Viva ! Juan has spoken like a prince !" cried the banditti, while 
 they made hill and valley ring with their boisterous applause. 
 
 Two, with their muskets loaded, had particular orders to escort 
 Stuart, and to shoot him dead if he attempted to escape : after 
 which the whole band got in motion and advanced up the moun- 
 tains, seeking the most steep and dangerous paths, which often 
 wound along the edge of beetling and precipitous cliffs, where 
 Stuart, although a Scotsman and a mountaineer, had considerable 
 trouble in threading his way. 
 
 Their journey ended when they reached a little square tower, which, 
 in size and form was not unlike the old fortahce of a lesser Scottish 
 baron. It was perched on the summit of a steep rock, amid a wild 
 and savage solitude, which appeared more dreary, at the time that 
 Eonald viewed it, by the hght of the waning moon. 
 
 This mountain fortress had been for centuries a ruin ; and the 
 little village, which had once been clustered near it (according to the 
 usual fashion in Spain), had ages ago disappeared. But the outlaws, 
 whom the feeble and crippled power of the Spanish authorities could 
 not suppress, had thoroughly repaired it, and made it their principal 
 stronghold ; and from it, as their head-quarters, their lines and posts 
 of communication were maintained through all the Basque provinces. 
 Tradition said that it was erected by a petty prince of Navarre, and 
 that the origin of its name was the murder of a priest within its walls. 
 It was called the Torre de los Frayles (or Priar's Tower) ; and the 
 Guipuzcoan muleteer was careful to time his journey so that this 
 Dl-omened spot should be a few leagues in his rear before night fell. 
 
 On entering, a temporary drawbridge, crossing a deep fosse or 
 chasm in the rocks, and forming the sole communication with the 
 cliff", on a projection of which the tower was perched, was withdrawn, 
 and Stuart, for the flrst time, felt his heart sink, as he entered the 
 walls of the dreary abode of crime, and heard the strong door shut 
 and barricaded behind him. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF VrAE. 4»>3 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 HOIVIE. 
 
 DUBING the spring of 1814, while Eonald Stuart was serving with 
 Lord Wellington's army in the south of 3?rance, the pecuniary affairs 
 of his father came to a complete crisis. The net woven around him 
 by legal chicanery, by his own un wariness in plunging headlong into 
 lawsuits, and by prodigality of his money otherwise, he was ruined. 
 " A true Highlander cannot refuse his sword or his purse to a friend," 
 and the laird of Lochisla had been involved to the amount of several 
 thousands in an affair of " caution," every fartbing of which he had 
 to pay. At the same time bills and bonds became due, and on his 
 making an application for cash to Messrs. Caption and Horning, A7.S., 
 Macquirk's successors, they acquainted him, in a very short letter, 
 composed in that peculiar style for which the.se gentlemen are so 
 famous, "that Lochisla was already dipped— that is, mortgaged — to 
 the utmost bearing, and that not a bodle more could be raised." The 
 unfortunate laird found that every diabolical engine of " the profes- 
 sion" was in requisition against him., and that the estate which had 
 descended to him through a long and martial hne of Celtic ancestors, 
 was passing aAvay from him for ever. In the midst of his atfiictiou, 
 he received tidings of the deeds of his brave son Eonald, who was 
 mentioned with all honour by Sir Rowland Hill in the despatch 
 which contained the account of the successful passage of the iNive, 
 and of the storming of the chateau. 
 
 "Heaven bless my brave boy !" said the laird ; "I shall see him 
 no more. It would rejoice me to behold his fair face and buirdly 
 figure once again, before my eyes are closed for ever : but it may not 
 be ; he will never behold my tomb ! It will be far distant from the 
 dark pines that shade the resting-place of my forefathers in the islet 
 of the Loch." 
 
 And the old laird spoke truly. . Ere long he saw the hall of his 
 fathers in possession of the minions of the law : the broad lands of 
 Lochisla became the prey of the stranger : and, mth the trasty auld 
 Donald Iverach, and a faithful band of followers, the feeble remnant 
 of his people, who yet, with true Highland devotion, insisted on fol- 
 lowing their chieftain to the far-off shores of Canada, he bade adieu 
 for ever to his father-land. 
 
 Ere yet he had departed, however, there came one who had heard 
 of his misfortunes and of his contemplated exile, to offer him his hand 
 in peace and affection. It was the Lord of Inchavon. 
 
 ' I will be a friend to your noble boy," he said. The Stuart an- 
 swered only, " Heaven bless you, Lisle ! but the lad has his sword, 
 and a fearless heart." 
 
 They parted ; and the clan Stuart of Lochisla, with its venerable 
 leader, was soon on its way across the westeni wave. 
 
 At the time these events were occurring at home, Eonald -was in 
 the neighbourhooc of Orthes with his regiment, which, in the battle 
 that took place thert), came in for its usual share of the slaughter 
 and honour. 
 
 The long-awaited and eagerly wished-for peace arrived at last. 
 Itegiments were disbanded, and ships paid off; and in every part of 
 
4(>4 THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 Europe soldiers and sailors were returning to tlieir homes in thou* 
 sands, to take up the plough and spade, which they had abandoned 
 for the musket and cutlass. The Peninsula part of our army were 
 pU embarked at Toulouse, and the inmates of Inchavon watched 
 anxiously the daily post and daily papers for some notice of the arri- 
 val of the transports containing Fassifern and his Highlanders, 
 whose destination was the Cove of Cork. 
 
 One evening, a bright and sunny one in June, when Lord Lisle 
 had pushed from him the sparkling decanters across the elaborately- 
 polished table, and sunk back in his well-cushioned easy chair to 
 enjoy a comfortable nap, and when Alice had tossed aside succes- 
 sively all the newspapers (she read only the marriages, fashionable 
 news, and the Gazette), and taken up the last novel, which in her 
 restlessness she resigned for Marmion, her favourite work, she was 
 suddenly aroused from its glowing numbers by the noise or wheels, 
 and the tramp of carriage-horses treading shortly and rapidly in the 
 birchen lane, between the walls and trees of which the sound rung 
 deep and hollow. The book fell from her hand ; she started and 
 listened, while her bosom rose, and a blush gathered on her soft 
 girlish cheek. The sound increased : now the travellers had quitted 
 the lane, and their carriage was rattling up the avenue, where the 
 noise of the horses' feet came ringing across the wide and open lawn. 
 
 Alice shook the dark curls from her animated face, which became 
 flushed with expectation. She moved to the window, and beheld a 
 travelling-chariot, drawn by a pair of stout bays, with the great- 
 coated driver on the saddle. The whole equipage appeared only at 
 intervals between the trees and clumps of the lawn, as the driver 
 made the horses traverse the long and intricate windings of the 
 avenue, which had as many turnings as the Forth, before the house 
 was reached. 
 
 "O papa! papa!" she exclaimed, clapping her white dimpled 
 hands together, and leaping to his side to kiss him and shake sturdily 
 the huge knobby arms of his old easy chair, and again skipping back 
 to the Avindows with all the wild buoyancy of her age, " dear papa, 
 do waken ! Here comes Louis !" 
 
 " Eh ! what ! eh ! Louis, did you say ?" cried the old lord, bolting 
 up like a harlequin. " Is the girl mad, that she frisks about so ?" 
 
 "O dear papa! 'tis my brother Louis!" and she began to weep 
 with joy and excitement. 
 
 " It must be he," replied her father, looking from a \vindow ; " it 
 must be Louis ! I don't think we expect any visitors. But to come 
 thus ! I always thought he would ride up from Perth on horseback. 
 On my honour 'tis a smart turn-out that ! A double imperial on 
 the roof, and — how ! there is a female, a lady's maid behind, and the 
 rogue of a footman with his arm around her waist, according to the 
 usual wont and practice. A lady inside, too ! See, she is bomng to 
 us. " Well ; I would rather have seen Louis, but I wonder who 
 these can be !" He rang a bell violently. 
 
 "'Tis our own Louis, indeed ! O my dear brother!" exclaimed 
 Alice, trembling with delight. " Hold me up, papa ; I am almost 
 fainting. Ah ! " added she inwardly, " when Louis is so near, Ronald 
 Stuart cannot be far off." 
 
 " Louis, indeed ! " replied her father pettishly, for he thought 
 she had disappointed him. " Tut, girl ! do you not see the lady in 
 the vehicle?" 
 
THE EOMANCK OF WAR. 405 
 
 '* O papa ! that is a great secret, — the affair of the lady : we meant 
 to surprise you ;" and without saying more, she bounded away from 
 his side. 
 
 The chaise was brought up at a gallop to the steps of the portico, 
 and the smart postiUon wheeled it skilfully round, backing and 
 spurring with an air of speed and importance, scattering the gravel 
 in showers right and left, and causing the chaise to rock from side to 
 side like a ship in a storm. This was for effect. A postilion always 
 brings his cattle up at a sharp pace ; but the chaise was well hung 
 on its springs, and the moment the panting horses halted, it became 
 motionless and steady. At that instant Alice, with her masses of 
 curls streaming behind her, rushed down the splendid staircase, 
 through the lofty saloon, and reached the portico just as the footman 
 sprang from the dickey and threw down the iron steps with a bang 
 as he opened the door. An officer, muffled in a large blue cloak 
 lined with red, leaped out upon the gravel walk ; Ahce threw her 
 arms around her brother, and hung sobbing on his breast. 
 
 "Alie, my merry little Alie, has become a tall and beautiful 
 woman ! " exclaimed Louis, holding her from him for a moment 
 while he gazed upon her face, and then pressed her again to his 
 breast. " Upon my honour you have grown quite a tall lady," he 
 added, laughing. " Our father — " 
 
 " Is well Louis, well ; and waiting for you." 
 
 " Good ! This is my — this is our Virginia " said Louis, handing 
 out his Spanish wife. " This is the dear girl I have always men- 
 tioned in my letters for two years past, Alice ; her friends have all 
 perished in the Peninsular war, and I have brought her far from her 
 native land, to a foreign country. You must be a kind sister to her, 
 Alie, as you have ever been to me." 
 
 " I will always love her, Louis ; I will, indeed," murmured the 
 agitated girl, who, never having beheld a Spaniard before, expected 
 something very different from the beautiful creature around whose 
 neck she londly twined an arm. "I am your sister: kiss me, Vir- 
 ginia, dear ! " said she, and two most young-lady-like salutes were 
 exchanged. The fair face of Alice Lisle blushed with pleasure. The 
 darker cheek of the Castilian glowed likewise, and her bright hazel 
 eyes flashed and sparkled with all the fire and vivacity of her 
 nacion. 
 
 " Louis," whispered Alice, blushing crimson as she spoke, and as 
 they ascended the sixteen steps of variegated Portsoy marble which 
 led to the house ; " Louis, is not Ronald Stuart with you ?" 
 
 " Alas ! no, Alice," replied Lisle, changing colour. 
 
 " Poor dear Ronald ! " said his sister sorrowfully, " could he not 
 procure leave too ? Papa must apply to the colonel— to your proud 
 I'assifern for it." 
 
 " Virginia will inform you of what has happened," said Louis, with 
 so sad a tone that all the pleasant visions which were dancing in the 
 mind of the joyous girl were instantly destroyed, and she grew 
 deadly pale; "Virginia will tell you all about it, Alie. Ladies 
 manage these matters of explanation better than gentlemen." 
 
 " Matters ! " reiterated the afirighted Alice involuntarily ; " mat- 
 ters ! Heaven guide me ! I thought all the terrors of these four 
 years were passed for ever. But what has misfortune in store for 
 me now?" 
 
 Her father, whose feet and limbs were somewhat less nimble and 
 
406 TITE BOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 flexible than Uers, and had thus been longer in descending the stair 
 and traversing the long lobbies, now approached, and embraced Ids 
 son with open arms ; while en masse, the servants of the mansion 
 crowded round, oUering their good wishes and congratulatory wel- 
 come to tJie Master, as Louis was styled by them, being the son of a 
 Scottish baron. He was now the Master of Lisle, or Lysle, as it is 
 spelt in the Peerage. The stately figure of the fair Castilian, who, 
 embarrassed and confused, clung to the arm of the scarcely less agi- 
 tated Alice, puzzled the old lord a good deal. She yet wore her 
 ?-acefLil mantilla and tightly-fitting Spanish frock of black satin, 
 he latter was open at the bosom, to shovv^ her embroidered vest and 
 collar, but was laced zigzag across with a silver cord. The thick 
 clusters of her hair were gathered in a redecilla, or net- work bag, 
 behind, all save the glossy brown curl^ escaping from beneath a 
 smart English bonnet, which, although it fully displayed her noble 
 and beautiful features, contrasted or consorted strangely with the 
 rest of her attire. 
 
 The old lord appeared astonished and displeased for a moment. 
 He bowed, smiled, and then stared, and bowed and smiled again, 
 while Virginia coloured crimson, and her large Spanish eyes began 
 to sparkle in a very alarming manner ; but beginning to suspect who 
 the fair stranger was, the frank old lord took both her hands in his, 
 kissed her on each cheek, begged pardon, and then asked whom he 
 had the lionoiu- of addressing. 
 
 "How!" exclaimed Louis, in astonishment; "is it possible that 
 you do not know ?" 
 
 . " Not L unon my honour ! " rephed his father, equally amazed ; 
 "how should I.?" 
 
 " Were my letters from Orthes and Toulouse, relative to my mar- 
 riage, never received ? " 
 
 " Marriage ! " exclaimed his father, almost pausing as they crossed 
 the saloon. " By Jove ! Master Louis, you might have condescended 
 to consult me in such a matter ! " 
 
 " My dear father," replied Louis, laughing, for he saw that his 
 parent was more astonished than displeased, you cannot be aware 
 of the circumstances under — but you know the proverb, all is fair in 
 war : and my letters — " 
 
 " Were all received, — at least Alice received them all." 
 
 " Ah ! you cunning little fairy," said Louis, turning towards his 
 pale sister ; " you have played us all this trick to surprise your good 
 papa, when he heard of his new daughter." 
 
 ' A wonderful girl ! to be the repository of so important a secret 
 so long," said her father, evidently in high glee. " But she always 
 loved to produce a commotion, and to study effect. I wiU hear all 
 your stories by-and-by, and sentence you each according to your de- 
 merits : but we must not stand here, with all the household gaping 
 at us. Lead your naughty sun-burnt brother up-stairv Ahce — he 
 seems to have forgotten the way — and I will escort your new sister."' 
 
 " He gave his arm to Virginia, and conducted her up the broad stair- 
 case which led to the upper part of the mansion, where the splendour 
 and elegance of the furniture, the size of the windows, the hangings, 
 the heiglit of the ceilings, the rich cornices, the carving, the gilding, 
 the paintings, statues, lustres, the loftiness, lightness, and beauty or 
 everything architectural and decorative, struck the stranger forcibly 
 when she remembered the sombre gloom and clumsiness, both of 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 407 
 
 fabric and fashion, to v. hicli she had been accustomed in the dwellinra 
 of her native country. Indeed, the mansion of the richest Spanish, 
 grandee was not so snug by one-half as the coachman's apartment 
 above the stables at Inchavon-house. 
 
 Alice was in an agony of expectation to hear what Louis had to 
 say about Eonald Stuart; but she was doomed to be kept cruelly on 
 the mental rack for some time, while all her brother's humble but 
 old and respected friends among the household appeared in succes- 
 sion, to tender their regards and bid him welcome, expressing their 
 pleasure to " see him safe home again among decent, discreet, and 
 responsible folk," as the jolly old butler, who acted as spokesmaiu 
 said. There was the blufi' gamekeeper, in his tartan jacket, broad 
 bonnet, and leather spats, or leggins, long Louis's rival shot, and 
 master of the sports ; there was the pinched and demure old house- 
 keeper, with her rusty silk gown, keys, and scissors, and huge pouch, 
 which was seldom untenanted by a small Bible and big brandy-flask : 
 the fat, flushed, and greasy cook, whose ample circumference pro- 
 claimed her the priestess and picture of good living ; the smart and 
 rosy housemaids, all ribands and smiles— Jessie Cavers in particular; 
 and there was Jock, and Tom, and Patie, laced and liveried cheva- 
 liers of the cockade and shoulder-knot, who were all introduced at 
 the levee in their turn ; while confusion, bustle, and uproar reigned 
 supreme through the whole of the usually quiet and vi^ell-ordered 
 mansion of Inchavon. 
 
 Every one was glad and joyful to behold again the handsome young 
 Master of Lisle : but tben his lady ! she was termed " an nnco body/ 
 and about her there were two conflicting opinions. The men praised 
 herbeautj'', " her glossy hair, and her hawk's een." — the women her 
 sweetness and affability ; but almost all had observed the crucifix that 
 hung at her neck, and whispered fearful surmises of her being a 
 Papist. 
 
 " My dear sir," said Louis, after they had become tolerably com- 
 posed in a sort of snug library, termed by the servants, " my lord's 
 chaumer," — " can it be possible or true, that Alice has never informed 
 you of my marriage with Donna Virginia de Alba ?" 
 
 " I concealed it to surprise dear papa," replied Alice, making a 
 sickly attempt to smile. 
 
 " You always loved effect, Alie," said her father ; " but really I 
 could have dispensed with so sudden a surprise on this occasion. 
 How fortunate I am in having such a beauty for a daughter !" He 
 passed his hand gently over the thick brown curls of the Spaniard. 
 " Look up at me, Virginia ; a pretty name, too ! On my honour, 
 my girl, you have beautiful eyes ! I ever thought Alie's were splen- 
 did, but she will find hers eclipsed. Your father — " 
 
 Was the Duke of Alba de T ," interrupted Louis, who was 
 
 now anxious to produce an effect of a different kind in his bride's 
 favour. " He was a Buonapartist — " 
 
 " Ah ! his name is familiar to me. He — " 
 
 "Was unfortunately slain when the fort, or chS^teau, where I 
 was confined, was so bravely stormed by Eonald Stuart's light 
 company." 
 
 " I heard of all that when the news arrived in London. Our Vir- 
 ginia comes of a proud, but a — a — an unfortunate race." He could 
 not find a more gentle word. 
 
 " Spain boasts not of a nobler name than that of Alba ; but, save 
 
408 THE BOMANCE OF WAS. 
 
 a sister in a convent in Gralicia, my dear Virginia is its only repre- 
 sentative. All the cavaliers of her house have fallen in battle ; and 
 lastly the duke, by the hands of Evan Iverach and Macrone, a ser- 
 icant, who attacked him with his pike. Poor Stuart, though in peril 
 himself, did all he could to save hun ; but the hot blood of the Gael 
 ■was up, and the fierce Spaniard perished. But Virginia is weeping ; 
 we are only recalUng her sorrows, and must say no more of these 
 jnatters just now. llonald Stuart—" 
 
 " Ah ! by-the-bye, what of him ? A brave fellow ! See how Alice 
 blushes. Faith ! I shall never forget the day the dauntless young 
 Highlandman pulled me out of Corrie-avon. Has the good lad re- 
 turned with you to Perthshire ?" 
 
 " No," answered Louis with hesitation, glancing uneasily at Alice 
 while he spoke. '" He has not returned yet." 
 
 " 'Tis well " continued his father. " Poor Stuart ! he will have no 
 liome — no kind friends to return to, as you have, Louis, after all his 
 toil and bloodshed. Not a hand is there now in the green glen of the 
 Isla to grasp his in welcome ! " 
 
 " I read in the Perthshire papers that the estate had been sold, and 
 that his father, with all the Stuarts of the glen, had emigrated to 
 Canada. Dreadful intelligence it will be for him when he hears it ! 
 He will be wounded most deeply in those points where the true 
 Highlander is assuredly most vulnerable. He ^vill be almost 
 driven mad; and I would scarcely trust other lips than yours, 
 Alice, to reveal the sad tidings to him. I read them at Toulouse. 
 Stuart was not with us then. He has been — he has been — six weeks 
 missing from the regiment." 
 
 " Six weeks missing ! " cried Lord Lisle, while a cry of horror died 
 away on the pallid lips of Alice, who drooped her head on the shoul- 
 der of Virginia. 
 
 S4- "Keep a brave heart, Alie dear !" said Louis, clasping her waist 
 affectionately. " I have no fears for your knight of Santiago, as the 
 mess call him. He will swim where another man would sink. Had 
 you seen him, as I often have, skirmishing in advance, charging at 
 the head of his company, or leading the forlorn hope at Almarez on 
 the Tagus, or the chateau on the Nive, you would suppose he had a 
 charmed life, and was invulnerable to steal and lead, as men supposed 
 Dundee to be until the field of KilUecrankie. Perhaps he has joined 
 "by this time. I procured six months' leave, and left the Highlanders 
 the instant the anchor was dropped at Cove. My next letters from 
 the regiment may have some intelligence. Campbell, I know, will 
 WTite to me instantly, if he hears aught.'" 
 
 " But how comes it to pass that Stuart is missing ? what has hap- 
 pened ?" asked his father, while Alice listened in breathless agony to 
 the reply. 
 
 "We were quartered at Muret, a town on the Garonne, eight or 
 nine miles distant from Toulouse. We had lain there ever since the 
 decisive battle gained over Soult ; and in the church-yard of Muret 
 Stuart buried his servant, a brave lad from Lochisla, who had received 
 a death-shot on that memorable Easter-Sunday. Ronald mourned 
 his loss deeply ; for the lad had become a soldier for his sake, and 
 they were old schoolfellows — old companions and playmates. He 
 was a gallant and devoted fellow. You remember him, Alice ? Many 
 a love-letter he has carried to and fro, between this and Lochisla ; 
 and often bonnet ii* ^aud, he has led your pony among the steepest 
 
ROMANCE OF WAH. 40* 
 
 cliffs of Craigonan, by ways and crooks where I should tremble to 
 venture now. 
 
 "And he is dead?" said Alice, giving vent to her feelings by a 
 plentiful shower of tears, 
 
 " He was shot by a Frenchman's bullet, Alie." 
 
 " Poor dear Evan !" replied his sister, wringing her white hands ; 
 '^I shall never forget him. He was ever so respectful and so 
 obliging." 
 
 " Jessie Cavers has lost her handsome sweetheart. He was buried 
 close by the old church of Muret, and Eonald's hand laid his head 
 in the grave. He received a deeper — a better — yet not less hallowed 
 tomb than the many thousands who were covered up in ditches, in 
 the fields, and by the way-sides just wherever they were found lying 
 dead. At Muret, one night, a despatch arrived from Lord Welling- 
 ton by an orderly dragoon. It was to be forwarded to the Conde de 
 Penne Villamur, at Elizondo, a to^vn on the Spanish side of the Py- 
 renees ; and, as its bearer, Stuart departed about midnight on horse- 
 back. Sufficient time for his return elapsed before our embarkation 
 at Toulouse. The eventful day came ; but no Stuart appeared, and 
 we embarked without him. Some unlooked-for circumstance must 
 have caused delay, — perhaps his horse becoming lame, or his cash 
 running short ; but we shall probably hear of him from Toulouse, or 
 Passages, in a fortnight at the furthest. I have no fears for Ronald 
 Stuart. He will cut his way, scatheless, through perils which a score 
 of men would sink under." 
 
 " I trust in heaven that it may be so," said Lord Lisle, fervently. 
 " Truly, I wish the lad well ; he is the last stem of an old tree, that 
 has fallen to the earth at last." 
 
 Although Louis spoke cheerfully to comfort his agitated sister, 
 he nevertheless felt considerable anxiety regarding the fate of his 
 friend. He knew too well the disorderly state of the country 
 through the wild frontiers of which he had to pass ; and his imagi- 
 nation pictured a hundred perils, against which Ronald's courage 
 and tact would be unavailing. He besought Virginia to comfort 
 Alice, by putting the best possible face upon matters ; but her un- 
 wary narrative made circumstances worse, by letting truths slips out 
 which had been better concealed, and which, although they seemed 
 quite common-place matters to a Castilian, presented a frightful 
 picture of Spain to a young Scottish lady. 
 
 The unhappy Alice became a prey to a thousand anxious fears and 
 apprehensions, which prepared her mind to expect the worst. A 
 month passed away — a weary month of misery, of sad and thrilling 
 expectation, and no tidings were heard of Stuart. By Louis's 
 letters from the regiment, it seemed that his brother-officers had 
 given him up for lost. The newspapers were searched with sickening 
 anxiety, but nothing transpired ; and the family at Inchavon beheld, 
 with deep uneasiness, the cheek of Alice growing pale day after day, 
 and her bright eyes losing their wonted lustre. About six weeks 
 after Louis's arrival. Lord Lisle communicated with the military 
 authorities in London regarding the young soldier, in whose fate his 
 family were so greatly interested. All were in a state of great ex- 
 pectation, when the long, formidable letter, covered mth franks, 
 initials, and stamps, arrived. To support herself Alice clung to 
 Virginia, and hid her face in her bosom, for she trembled excessively 
 while her father read the cold and official reply to his anxious letter. 
 
<I10 THE E0MA2JCE OF WAK 
 
 " Horse Guards, * * * 1814. 
 " My Loed, 
 " In reply to your lordship's letter of the 25th instant, I have the 
 nonour to acquaint you, by the direction of his Ex)yal Highness the 
 Commander-in-Chief, that nothing has transpired, further than 
 what the pubHc journals contain^ respecting the fate of Captain 
 Bonald Stuart, of the Gordon Highlanders. But, if that unfor- 
 tunate oflicer does not rejoin his regiment at Cork before the next 
 muster-day, he must be superseded. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, my lord, &c. &c. 
 
 " Heney Toeeens, Mil. Sec. 
 " Eight Hon. Lord Lisle, of Inchavoa." 
 
 Ahce wrung her hands, and wept in all the abandonment of woe. 
 The last reed she had leant on had snapped — her last hope was 
 gone, and she knew that she should never behold Ronald more. 
 The next muster-day (then the 24th of every month) arrived ; and, 
 as being still " absent without leave," he was superseded, and his 
 name appeared no longer on the hst of the regiment. It was sad 
 intelligence for jAs friends in Perthshire; but it was upon one 
 gentle-loving and timid heart, that this sudden stroke fell most 
 heavily. Poor Ahce ! she grew very sad, and long refused to be 
 comforted As a drowning man clings to straws, so clung Ahce to 
 every hope and chance of Eonald's return, until the letter of Sir 
 Henry Torrens drove her from her last stronghold. 
 
 Lays rolled on and became weeks, and weeks rolled on to months, 
 and in her own heart the poor girl was compelled to acknowledge or 
 heheve, what her friends had long concluded, that Ronald Stuart 
 was numbered with the dead. It was a sad blow to one whose 
 joyous heart had been but a short time before full almost to over- 
 flovring ^vith giddy and romantic visions of love and happiness. Under 
 this severe mental shock she neither sickened nor died, and yet she 
 felt as deeply and poignantly as mortal woman could suffer. 
 
 Few or none, perhaps, die of love or of sorrow, whatever poets and 
 interested romancers may say to the contrary'. But as this is not 
 the work of the one or the other, but a true memoir or narrative, 
 the facts must be told, however contrary to rule, or to the ex- 
 pectation of my dear readers. 
 
 In course of time the sorrow of Alice Lisle became more subdued- 
 the bloom returned to her faded cheek, and she used to laugh ana 
 smile, — but not as of old. She was never now heard to sing, and 
 the sound of her harp or piano no more awoke the echoes of the 
 house. She was content, but far from being happy. T\Tien riding 
 or rambling about mth Virginia or Louis, she could never look 
 down from the mountains on the lonely tower and desert glen of 
 Isla without symptoms of the deepest emotion, and she avoided 
 every path that led towards the patrimony of the Stuarts. 
 
 But a good example of philosophy and resignation under woe 
 was set before her by her servant, Jessie Cavers. That young 
 damsel, finding that she had lost Evan Iverach beyond the hope of 
 recovery, instead of spoiling her bright eyes in weeping for his death, 
 employed them successfuDy in looking for a successor to his vacant 
 place. She accordingly accept^ed the offers of Jock Nevermiss, the 
 
 famekeeper, whose coarse shooting-jacket and leather spats had 
 een for a time completely echpsed by the idea of Iverach's scarlet 
 <r?oat and gartered hose. 
 
THE ROiLiJfCE OF WAE. 411 
 
 The old Earl of Hyndford came down again in the shooting 
 season, and renewed his attentions to Alice ; hut with no better 
 success than before, — much to his amazement. He deemed that her 
 heart, being softened by grief, would the more readily receive a new 
 impression. He quitted Inchavon-house, and, in a fit of spleen and 
 disappointment, set oil" on a continued ramble, acting the discon- 
 solate lover with all his might. 
 
 Louis, leaving Virginia at Inchavon with his sister, rejoined the 
 Highlanders at Fermoy, and in a week thereafter had the pleasure 
 to obtain a " company." 
 
 The Highlanders were daily expecting the route for their native 
 country, but were again doomed to be disappointed. They were 
 ordered to Glanders,— to the " Lowlands of Holland," where Scottish 
 valour lias been so often triumphant in the times of old, for the 
 flames of war had broken forth again with renewed fury. 
 
 CHAPTEE L. 
 
 THE TOBES DE LOS FBATLES. 
 
 When E/onald found himself helplessly, and, as he thought, irre- 
 coveralDly immured in the Torrs cle los Frayles, and surrounded by 
 a band of the most merciless and desperate ruffians conceivable, — 
 defenceless, in their power, and secluded among the widest fast- 
 nesses of the Spanish Pyrenees, his heart sickened at the hope- 
 lessness of his prospects. His hfe depended entii-ely on the will and 
 pleasure of his captors, and he felt all that acute agony of spirit of 
 which a brave man is susceptible when reflecting that he might 
 perish like a child in their hands, helpless and unreveuged. He was 
 conducted to a desolate apartment, to which light was admitted by a 
 couple of loop-holes, which, being destitute of glass, gave free 
 admittance to the ccld air of the mountains. 
 
 Excepting an antique table and chair, the room was destitute of 
 furniture, and Eonald was compelled to repose on the stone-flagged 
 floor, Avith no other couch than a large ragged mantle, which a 
 renegade priest, one of thousands whom the war had unfrocked, 
 lent him, oflering, at the same time, indulgently to hear his con- 
 fession. Ronald glanced at the long dagger and brass-barrelled 
 pistols which garnished the belt of the ci-devant padi'c, and smiling 
 sourly, begged to be excused, saying that he had nothing to confess, 
 saving his disgust for his captors, and the sense he felt of Spanish 
 ingratitude. - 
 
 Morte de Bios !" swore the incensed priest as he departed, 
 " you are an incorrigible heretic. Peeding you is feeding what 
 ought to be burned ; and I would roast you like a kid, but for that 
 meddli'Ag ape, Gaspar ! " 
 
 By order of the last named worthy, who appeared to be the ac- 
 knowledged leader, a sentinel was placed at the door of the apart- 
 ment, which was well secured on the outside to prevent Ronald's 
 escape. At the same time Alosegui, who said he wishe<l to be 
 Mendly to a hrother capitan, gave him a screw of a pecuUar coa- 
 
412 THE ROMANCE OF WAS. 
 
 struction, with which he could strongly secure his door on the 
 inside — a necessary precaution when so formidable an enemy as 
 Narvaez Cifuentes was within a few feet of him. Having secured 
 the entrance as directed, he rolled himself up in the cloak of the 
 pious father, — but not to sleep, for dawn of day found him yet 
 awake, cursing his untoward fortune, and revohing, forming, and 
 rejecting a thousand desperate plans to escape. Even when, at last, 
 he did drop into an uneasy sleep or dreamy doze, he was quickly 
 aroused by the twanging of guitars and uproar of a drunken chorus 
 in the next apartment, where the padre was trolling forth a ditty, 
 which, a few years before, would have procured him a lodging for 
 life in the dungcions of the terrible Inquisition. 
 
 To Stuart, his present situation appeared now almost insup- 
 portable. He sprang to the narrow loop-holes, and made a long and 
 acute reconnoissance of the country round about, especially in the 
 neighbourhood of the robbers' den, and he became aware that escape, 
 without the concurrence of Alosegui or some of his followers, was 
 utterly impracticable. The tower was perched, like an eagle's nest, 
 on the very verge of a perpendicular cliff, some hundred yards in 
 height, and a chasm, dark and apparently bottomless, separated 
 the tower from the other parts of the mountain, or, I may say, the 
 land, as it hung almost in the air. At every pass of the hills leading 
 to the nan'ow vale where it was situated, a well-armed and keen- 
 eyed scout kept watchful guard, for the double purpose of giving an. 
 alarm in case of danger, or warning when any booty appeared in 
 sight. The bottom of the valley which the tower overlooked was 
 covered Trith rich copse -wood, among which wound, like a narrow 
 stripe of crystal, a mountain stream, a tributary of the Bidassoa,— 
 the way to the W est. 
 
 About noon he was visited by Gaspar Alosegui, with whom he 
 was ceremoniously invited to take breakfast ; and yielding to the 
 cravings of appetite, he unhesitatingly accepted the proposal, and sat 
 down at the same table with four fellows, who, Gaspar told him, were 
 the greatest cut-throats and most expert bravoes in Spain. The 
 apartment in which they sat was a dilapidated hall, which bore no 
 distant resemblance to the one at Lochisla, save that its roof was 
 covered with carved stone pendants and grim Gothic faces, among 
 which hung branches of grapes or raisins, nets of Portugal onions, 
 bags of Indian corn, and other provender ; and the floor was strewed 
 with mule-pannels, saddles, arms of all sorts, towards which Eonald 
 glanced furtively from time to time, and countless bales, barrels, 
 vidne-skins, &c., like a merchant's storehouse. 
 
 Eonald got though his repast without offending any of the dagger- 
 grasping rogues ; but he was so much disgusted Avith their language 
 and brutality of manner, that in future he resolved to eat by himself, 
 at all risks. Narvaez, with a strong partj' under his command, was 
 absent, to watch for a train of mules, in the neighbourhood of 
 Eoncesvalles, and Eonald was therefore relieved from his hateful 
 presence. Gaspar assembled the remainder of the band in solemn 
 conclave, to consult about the ransom of Stuart. "When the latter, 
 who stood near Alosegui's chair, looked around him upon the ruffian 
 assemblage, and beheld so many dark, ferocious, and black bearded 
 faces, he felt that, among such men, his life was not worth a quarto. 
 
 The amount of the ransom had been fixed on the preceding 
 evening. When Alosegui inquired where the Cond6 de Villa 
 
THE EOMAKCE OF WAK. 41S 
 
 Franca then resided, no one could say anything with, certainty about 
 it, but all supposed him to be at Madrid. In support of this sup- 
 position, the soi-disant padre produced, from the crown of his 
 sugar-loaf hat, a ragged number of " M Espanol" at least three 
 months old, well worn and frayed, and which he carried about 
 him for gun-wadding. In one of the columns, the arrival of Don 
 Alvaro and his countess appeared among the fashionable intelligence. 
 To Madi'id, therefore, it was resolved that Ronald should despatch a 
 letter, the bearer of which should be Juan de la Roca, who, for 
 cunning and knavery, was equal, if not infinitely superior, to 
 Lazarillo de Tormes, of happy memory. His travelling expenses 
 were also to be defrayed, fully and amply, before the captive would 
 be released. To save time, for it was a long way to Madrid, Ronald 
 proposed to communicate with the British consuls at Passages or 
 Bayonue ; but the proposition was at once negatived by a storm of 
 curses and a yell of dissatisfaction from the banditti, while, waving 
 his hand, Alosegui acquainted him sternly, that it was inconsistent 
 with their safety or intentions to permit his col-responding with the 
 consul at either of those places, as some strenuous and unpleasant 
 means might be taken to release him unransomed. And before they 
 would proceed farther in the business, the wily handidos compelled 
 him to pledge liis solemn word of honour as a cavaher and soldier, 
 that he would not attempt to escape.— a pledge which, it may be 
 imagined, he gave with the utmost reluctance. While his bosom 
 was swelling vrith rage and regret, Ronald seated hirnself at the 
 table and wrote to Alvaro, praying that he would lend him the sura 
 the thieves required, and setting forth that his life was forfeited in 
 case of refusal. Seldom has a letter been indicted under such cir- 
 cumstances. While he wrote, a Babel of tongues resounded in his 
 €ar,— all swearing and quarrelling about the delay, and proposing 
 that cold steel or a swing over the rocks, should cut the matter short, 
 as it was very doubtful whether the Count de Villa Franca would 
 ever send so large a sum of money. But Gaspar's voice of thunder 
 silenced their murmurs. 
 
 " I will drink the heart's blood of any man who opposes or dis- 
 obeys my orders," cried he, striking the rude table with his mighty 
 fist. " I am a man of honour, and must keep my word, par Diez ! 
 Hark you, my comrades ; again I tell you, that for three months the 
 life of the prisoner is as sacred as if he were an abbot." 
 
 " Three months ! " thought Ronald bitterly. " In three months, 
 but for this cursed misfortune, I might have been the husband of 
 Alice Lisle." 
 
 The letter to Don Alvaro was sealed by Ronald's own seal (which 
 one of the band was so obliging as to lend him for the occasion >i 
 and placed in the hand of Juan de la Roca. 
 
 '■ Adios, senor ! adios, vaga ! " said the young thief with an im- 
 pudent leer, and presenting his hand to Ronald at his departure. 
 
 Remember, senor, that for your sake, I lose the chance of winning 
 one of the sweetest prizes in Spain." 
 
 " How, Senor Juan ? " replied Stuart, bestowing on him a keen 
 glance of contempt. 
 
 " A girl, to be sure, a fkir girl we captured near Maya," said Juan 
 sulkily ; " and I am haK tempted to cast your despatch to the winds." 
 
 " Come, Juan, we must part friends at least," said Ronald, willing 
 
 IL 2 S 
 
414 THE I:0]1LLKCE OF WAR. 
 
 to dissemble, when lie remembered bow mucli bis fate lay in fho 
 •Dower of tliis younj? rascal He cave him his band, and they 
 parted with a show of urbanity, wiuch was probably affected on 
 both sides. 
 
 In a few minutes he beheld him quit the Friars' Tower, and depaii; 
 on his journey mounted on a stout mule, and so much disguised that 
 he scarcely knew him. His ragged apparel ha4 been replaced by the 
 smart attire of a student, and was all of becoming black -velvet. A large 
 portfoho ^vas slung on his back, to disguise him the more, and sup- 
 port the character which he resolved to bear as a travelling artista. 
 He was a very handsome young fellow, and his features were set off 
 by his broad sombrero and the black feathers which vanity had 
 prompted him to don. A black silk mantle dangled for ornament 
 from his shoulders, while one more coarse and ample was strapped to 
 the bow of his mule's pannel. He had a pair of holsters before him, 
 and wore a long poniard in his sash ; altogether, he had very much 
 the air of a smart student of Salamanca or Alcala. From a window 
 Eponald anxiously watched the lessening form of this messenger of 
 his fate, as he urged his mule do^vn the steep windings of the path- 
 way to the valley ; and a thousand anxieties, and alternate hopes and 
 doubts distracted him, as he thought of the dangers that beset the 
 path of his ambassador, of the lengthened duration and possible 
 result of his expedition. 
 
 In no country save Spain could the dreadful atrocities perpetrated 
 by; the wretches into whose hands Konald had faUen, have been per- 
 mitted in the nineteenth century. A day never passed without the 
 occurrence of some new outrage, and many were acted under his 
 own observation. On one occasion, the band captured an aged syndic 
 of Maya, who had made himself particularly obnoxious by executing 
 some of the gang. His captors, to refine on cruelty, tore out his 
 eyes and turned him away on the mountains in a tempestuous night, 
 desiring him to return to his magistracy, and be more merciful to 
 cavaliers of fortune in future. 
 
 An unfortunate medico of Huarte, who was journeying on a mule 
 across the mountains from St. Juan de Luz, where he had been pur- 
 chasing a store of medicines, fell into their clutches somewhere near 
 the rock of Maya. He could procure no ransom : many who owed 
 him long bills, and whom he rescued from the jaws of death by the 
 exercise of his art, and to whom his messenger applied, would send 
 him no answer, being very well pleased, probably, to be rid of a 
 troublesome creditor. One of the band being seriously ill, the life 
 of the medico Avas to be spared if he cured him. The bandit unluckily 
 died, and the doom of his physician was sealed. It was abruptly 
 announced to him that he must die, and by his own weapons, as 
 Gaspar informed him. The unhappy son of Esculapius prayed hard 
 that his life might be spared, and promised that he would dwell for 
 the remainder of his days in the Torre de los Frayles, — to spare him, 
 for he was a very old man, and had many things to repent of. But 
 his tyrants were inexorable. After being confessed with mock reh- 
 gious solemnity by Gorge rza de la Puente, he was compelled to 
 swallow every one of his own drugs, which he did ■with hideous 
 grimaces and trembling limbs, amidst the uproarious laughter and 
 cruel jests of his destroyers, who beheld him expire almost imme- 
 diately after finishing the nauseous dose they had compounded, and 
 
THE EOaiANCE OF WAS. 415 
 
 vhec consigned liis body to that cliarnel-house, the cliasm before the 
 dcoru'ay of their pandemonium. 
 
 Several months elapsed — months which to Eonald appeared like so 
 many centuries, for he had awaited in almost hourly expectation the 
 arrival of some intelligence from Madrid; but the dreary days 
 lagged on, and his heart began to lose hope. Juan de la lloca ap- 
 peared to have travelled slowly, Lettei-s were received from him by 
 Alosegui, at diflerent times, .ly the hands of certain muleteers and 
 contrabandistas, who, on passing the mountains, always paid a regu- 
 lar sum as toll to the banditti, whom, for their own sakes, they were 
 glad to conciliate so easily. These despatches informed the thievea 
 of Juan's progress ; but tliey often cursed the young rascal, and 
 threatened vengeance for his tardiness and delay. But Juan, by ex- 
 ercising his ingenuity as a cut-purse, pickpocket, cloak-suatcher, and 
 gambler, contrived to keep himself in a constant supply of cash ; 
 and he seemed determined to enjoy to the utmost the short term oi 
 liberty allowed him. At last he disappeared. His companions ii- 
 crime heard of him no more ; but whether he had been poniarded iiw 
 some brawl, sent to the galleys, or made off' with Stuart's ransom- 
 money, remained a mystery. The last appeared to the banditti to 
 be the most probable cause for his non-appearance, and their curses 
 were loud and deep. 
 
 Stuart now found that his life was in greater jeopardy than before. 
 Alosegui proposed to him to take the vows, and join the banditti as 
 a volunteer in their next marauding expedition ; and added, that if 
 he would take pains to conciliate the good-Avill of the lieutenant, the 
 Seuor Narvaez, and distinguish himself, he might be promoted in 
 the band. Alosegui made this proposal with his usual dry sarcastic 
 manner ; and although Ronald, who was in no humour to be trifled 
 with, rejected the strange offer of service with as much scorn and 
 contempt as he could muster, he saw, on second thoughts, that for 
 his own safety a little duplicity was absolutely necessary. He affected 
 to have doubts, and craved time to think of the matter, intending, 
 if once well armed, free of the tower, and with his feet on the free 
 mountain-side, to fight his way off", or to die sword in hand. 
 
 But he was saved from the dishonour of even pretending to be 
 their comrade for a single hour, because, in a very short space of 
 time, a most unlooked-for change of politics took place at Torre de 
 los Prayles. 
 
 A train of muleteers about to depart from Elizondo for France or 
 the lower part of the Pyrenees, sent forward one of theil* number 
 to the robbers' den to pay the toll. The mule-driver was made right 
 "vvelcorae. The banditti found it necessary to cultivate to the utmost 
 the friendship of these travelling merchants, \\\i\\ whom they traf- 
 ficked and bartered, exchanging goods and valuables for money, 
 clothing, arms, smd ammunition, supplies of which were regularly 
 brought them, and accounts were balanced in the most exact and 
 business-like manner. 
 
 The envoy from Ehzondo had transacted his business, and been 
 furnished with Alosegui's receipt and piu-^s, formally signed and 
 marked with a cross ; but he seemed in no hurry to depart, and 
 remaining, drank and played at chess and dominoes for some hours 
 ■5\ith the thieves, who were, scouts excepted, generally all withio 
 their garrison in the daytime. 
 
 2 E 2 
 
41 G THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 Ronald knew that a messenger from a train of mules was in lu? 
 place of confinement • but as visits of this kind in no wayconcerned 
 nim, he had aseendea to the summit of the tower, and there paced 
 to and fro, watching anxiouslj'^ as usual the long dim vista of the 
 valley, with the expectation of seeing Juan de laRoca,on his grey mule, 
 wending his way towards the Tower of the Friars. He would have 
 hailed with joy the return of this young rogue as a dehvering angel ; 
 but such a length of time had now elapsed since his disappearance, 
 that, in Jlonald's breast, hope began gradually to give way to despair ; 
 and when he remembered Alice^ his home, and his forfeited commis- 
 sion, his brain almost reeled ^vlth madness. Shading his eyes from 
 the hot glare of the noon-day sun, he was looking intently doAvn the 
 long misty vale which stretched away to the westward, when he was 
 roused by some one touching him on the shoulder. 
 
 He turned about, and beheld the round and good-humoured face 
 of Lazaro Gomez, fringed, as of old, with its matted whiskers and 
 thick scrub beard. 
 
 " Lazaro Gomez, my trusty muleteer of Merida ! how sorrj- 1 am 
 to see you in this devil's den." 
 
 " Senor, indeed you have much reason to be very happy, if you 
 knew all." 
 
 "How, Gomez?" 
 
 " Hush, senor ! Speak softly ! you will know all in good time. I 
 came here to pay the toll for my comrades, who at present keep 
 themselves close in Ehzondo for fear of our friends in this damnable 
 tower : and there they must remain till I return. By our Lady of 
 Majorga, but I am glad to see you, senor ! As I say now to my 
 brother Pedro, Senor Caballero, allow me to have the honour of 
 shaking hands with you ?" 
 
 Stuart grasped the huge horny hand of the honest muleteer and 
 shook it heartily, feehng a sensation so closely akin to rapture and 
 delight, that he could almost have shed tears. It was long since he 
 had shaken the hand of an honest man, or looked on other visages 
 than those of dogged, sullen, and scowling ruffians. At that moment 
 Stuart felt happy ; it was so agreeable to have kind intercourse, even 
 with so humble a friend, after the five months he had passed in the 
 dreary abode of brutality and crime. 
 
 " And why, Lazaro, do you address your brother, the serjeant, so 
 formally ?" 
 
 " Ah, senor ! Pedro is a great man now ! He is no longer a humble 
 trooper, to pipe-clay his belts and hold his captain's bridle. By his 
 sword he has carved out a fair name for himself, and a fair fortune 
 likemse. He led three assaults against Pampeluna, like a very 
 vaUant fool as he is, and was three tmies shot through the body for 
 his trouble. Don Carlos de Espana, a right noble cavaUer, embraced 
 him before the whole Hue of the Spanish army, and appointed him 
 a cornet in Don Alvaro's troop of lancers. The next slarmish vrith 
 the enemy made him a lieutenant, knight of Santiago, and of the 
 most valiant order of " the Band." Don Alvaro has also procured 
 him a patent of nobiUty, which he always carries in his sash, lest 
 any one should unpleasantly remind his nobleness that he is the 
 eldest son of old Sancho Gomez, the alguazil, who dwelt by the 
 bridge of Merida." 
 
 " I rejoice at his good fortune." 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 417 
 
 " But I have not tcld you all, senor," continued the gossiping 
 muleteer, "A rich youn<5 A^ddov.• of Aranjuez, the Condessa de 
 Estramera. fell in love with him, when one day he commanded a 
 suard at the palace of Madrid. An old duenna was employed, — 
 letters w^ere carried to and fro, — meetings held in solitary places : 
 and the upshot was, that the condessa bestowed her fair hand, with 
 a fortune of— of— the holy Virgin knows how many thousand ducats, 
 upon my most happy rogue of a brother, Lieutenant Don Pedro 
 Gomez, of the lancers of Merida, and now they live like a prince 
 and princess." 
 
 " Happy Pedro ! The condessa is beautiful ; I have seen her, 
 Lazaro." 
 
 " Plump Ignesa, the chamber-maid at the posada of Majorgaj is 
 more to my mind. I never could relish your stately donnas, with 
 their high combs and long trains. This condessa is niece of that 
 
 prince of rogues, the Duke of Alba de T , who was killed in the 
 
 service of Bonaparte ; but Pedro cares not for that." 
 
 " In the history of his good fortune, you see the advantage of being 
 a soldier, Lazaro." 
 
 " With all due respect to your honourable uniform, Avhich I am 
 sorry to see so tattered, senor, I can perceive no advantage in being 
 a soldier,— none at all, par Diez 1 I envy Pedro not the value of a 
 maravedi. He has served and toiled, starved and bled, in the war of 
 independence, Hke any slave, rather than a soldier."' 
 
 '•' So have I, Lazaro," said Stuart ; " and these rags, and confine- 
 ment here for five months, have been my reward." 
 
 The muleteer snapped his fingers, then gave a very knowing wink, 
 and was about to whisper something; but, observing one of the 
 banditti watching, he continued talking about his brother. 
 
 "Ay, like any poor slave, senor ; and has more shot-holes in his 
 skin than I have bell-buttons on my jacket. And now, when the 
 war is over, he has still a troublesome game to play in striving to 
 please his hot-headed commanding-oJQScer and lady wife, whom it 
 would be considered a mortal sin to baste with a bufl" strap, as I may 
 ilo Ignesa, when she becomes my helpmate and better half. Pedro's 
 honours weigh heavily upon him, and he has many folks to please ; 
 whereas I have none to humour save myself, and perhaps that stub- 
 born jade Capitana, my leading mule, or Ignesa of Majorga, whc 
 gets restive, too, sometimes, and refuses to obey either spur or bridle. 
 But my long Avhip, and a smart rap from my cajado, soothe the mule, 
 and my sweet guitar and merry madrigal, the maiden. I am a thou- 
 sand times happier than Pedro ! I never could endure either domestic 
 or military control ; and would rather be Lazaro Gomez, with his 
 whip and his mules, than the stately king of the Spanish nation. I 
 have the bright sun, the purple wine, my cigar, and the red-cheeked 
 peasant-girls to kiss and dance with, — and what would mortal man 
 have more ? Bueno .'" 
 
 He concluded by thromng himself into an attitude, and flourishing 
 his sombrero round his head with a theatrical air. Honald smiled ; 
 but he thought that, notwithstanding all this disijlay, and Lazaro's 
 frequent assertions that he was happier than Pedro, a little envy 
 continued to lurk in a corner of his merry and honest heart. 
 
 " But has Pedro never done aught for you, Lazaro, in all his good 
 lortune ?" asked Eonald. 
 
41S THE E03IANCE OP WAli, 
 
 " Oh, senor ! his lady wife, disliking that her brother-in-law should 
 be treading a-foot over sierra and plain at a mule's tail, gave me the 
 post of Escrivano del Kumero at Truxillo, which I kept for some- 
 where about eight weeks. But I always grew sad wheu I heard the 
 merry jangle of mules' bells ; and one morning, unable to restrain 
 myself longer^ I tossed my Escrivano's cope and rod to Saianas, 
 seized ray whip and sombrero, and once more took to the road as a 
 merry-hearted muleteer of Merida, and neither Pedro nor the con- 
 dessa have been able to catch me since." 
 
 " I am happy to find you are such a philosopher," said Eonald, 
 with a sigh, which was not unnoticed by the muleteer. 
 
 " I could say that, Senor Cahallero, which would make you far 
 happier," said he, with a glance of deep meaning. " But," he added, 
 pointing to the armed bandit, who kept a look-out on the bartizan 
 near them, " but there are unfriendly ears near us." 
 
 " Speak fearlessly, Lazaro !" said Ronald, eagerly, while his heart 
 bounded with expectation. " I know that rascal to be a Guipuscoan, 
 who understands as little of pure Castilian as of Greek. In Heaven's 
 name, Lazaro, what have you to tell me ? I implore you to speak ! " 
 
 " Senor," said the muleteer, lowering his voice to a whisper, " you 
 have thrice asked me about Don Alvaro, and I have thrice delayed 
 to tell you what I know : good news should be divulged cautiously. 
 Well, senor, the famous cavalier of Estremadura has encamped three 
 hundred horse and foot among the mountains near Elizondo. He 
 comes armed vvith a commission from the king, and his minister Don 
 Diego de Avallo, to root out and utterly destroy this nest of wasps. 
 or cientipedoros. The place is to be assailed about midnight ; so look 
 well to yourself, senor, that the villains do not poniard you in the 
 fray ; and, if you have any opportunity to aid us, I need not ask you 
 to do so. I am to be Don Alvaro's guide^ as I know every foot of 
 ground hereabout as well as I do at Menda, having paid toll here 
 twenty times. But this wA\ be my last visit of the kind ; and I came 
 hither only to reconnoitre and learn their pass-word, in case it should 
 be needed. Keep a brave spirit in your breast for a few hours longer, 
 senor, and perhaps, when the morning sun shines down the long 
 valley yonder, Alosegui and his comrades will be hanging round the 
 battlement, like beads on a chaplet. I pray to the Santa Gadea of 
 Burgos that the night be dark, that we may the more easily take the 
 rogues by surprise." 
 
 Eonald's astonishment and joy at the sudden prospect of liberation 
 revealed to him by Lazaro Gomez, deprived him of the power of 
 utterance for a time. He was about to display some extravagant- 
 signs of pleasure, and to embrace the muleteer, when the keen cold 
 glance of the Guipuscoan bandit, who was watching them narrowly, 
 recaDed him to a sense of his danger. He almost doubted the reality 
 of the story, and narrowly examined the broad countenance of the 
 burly muleteer ; but truth and honesty were stamped on every line 
 of it. The horizon of Eonald's fortune was about to clear up again. 
 He felt giddy — almost stunned with the suddenness of the intelligence, 
 and his heart bounded with the wildest exultation at the prospect of 
 speedy liberty, and of vengeance for the thousands of insults t-^^ 
 which he had been subjected while a prisoner in the Torre de loi 
 iVayles. 
 
 When Lazaro departed, Stuart gave him the only token he could: 
 
THE HOirANCE OF WAE. 419 
 
 send to Don .'Uvaro, — a button of his coat, bearing a thistle and tlie 
 number " 92." He desired him to acquaint the cavalier that it would 
 be requisite to provide planks to cross the chasm before the tower, 
 other^vlse the troops would fail to take its inmates by surprise. 
 
 This adv"ice was the means of sa^ing Stuart's life at a very critical 
 juncture. 
 
 CHAPTEE LI. 
 
 SPANISH LAW. 
 
 As nearly as llonald could judge by the position of the sun, — 
 being without a watch, — it was about the hour of three in the after- 
 noon when Lazaro departed. 
 
 It was yet nine hours to midnight, and although that time seemed 
 an age to look forward to, yet so full was his mind of joy, and crowd- 
 ing thoughts of gladness, hopes, and fears, that evening surprised 
 him long before he imagined it to be near ; and he had much ado in 
 preserving his usual cold and serene look, and concealing the tumult 
 of new ideas which excited him from the insolent bravoes, who were 
 continually swaggering about, and, according to their usual wont, 
 jostling hira rudely at every corner and place where he encountered 
 them. To remonstrate would have been folly, and to these petty 
 annoyances he always submitted quietly. 
 
 On this last eventful evening he submitted to the penance of dining 
 at the same table with the banditti, and even condescended to 
 " trouble" his friend the padre for a piece of broiled kid ; but^.f 
 soon as the repast was ended, he withdraw to the tower-head. He 
 preferred to be alone, ahnost dreading that his important secret 
 might be read by Alosegui, Cifuentcs, or any other who bent his 
 scowling and lack-lustre eyes upon hmi. 
 
 At times, too, there came into his mind a doubt of the truth of 
 Lazaro's story ; but that idea ^vas too sickening to bear, and he dis- 
 missed it immediately. 
 
 The sun had set. Masses of dun clouds covered the whole sky, 
 which gradually became streaked with crimson and gold to th^ 
 westward, where the rays of the sun yet illumined and coloured the 
 huge mountains of vapour, although his light was fast leaving the 
 earth. ' 
 
 The appearance of the sky and aspect of the scenery were wonder- 
 ful and glorious. The whole landscape was covered with a red hue, 
 as if it had been deluged by a red shower. The mountain streamlet 
 wound through the valley of the Torre de los Frayles, hke a long 
 gilded snake, towards the base of a dark mountain, where appeared 
 
 Sart of the Bidassoa, gleaming under the warm sky hke a river of 
 quid fire. Beautiful as the scene was, Eonald seemed too much 
 occupied with his own stirring thoughts to admire it, or to survey 
 any part Avith curiosity, save that which, by gradually assuming a 
 more sombre hue, announced the approach of night. It was not 
 easy for him to observe a landscape with an artist's eye, while placed 
 in the precUcament in which he then found himself. 
 
420 THE BOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 He remembered, v/ith peculiar bitterness, the countless mortifica- 
 tions and insults which ne had received from Alosegui, the padre, 
 and manv others, and he contemplated with gloomy pleasure the 
 display which these master-rogues would make when receiving, by 
 the cord or the bullet, the just reward of all their enormities. He 
 remembered with pleasure that he had never broken the parole of 
 honour he had pledged to these miscreants — and truly he had been 
 sorely tempted. Owing to their irregular and dissipated course of 
 life, more than one opportunity of escape and flight had presented 
 itself. 
 
 " I expect a storm to-night, senor," said Gaspar, breaking in 
 abruptly on his meditations. 
 
 " Indeed, senor ! " 
 
 The other swore a mighty oath, which I choose not to repeat. 
 " San Stephano el Martir ! si senor^ — and no ordinary storm either. 
 We shall miss our prize of a rich hidalgo of Alava, who, with an 
 escort of twenty armed men, would have departed to-night from a 
 posada a few miles from this, and meant to bivouac at a place on the 
 hill-side, of which the innkeeper, who is an old friend of mine, sent 
 us all due notice. Look you ; Tiomhre ! the sky grows dark almost 
 while we look upon it, and the clouds, in masses of black and red, 
 descend on every side, hke gloomy curtains, to shut out the sun from 
 our view, and the wind, which blows against our faces, seems like the 
 very breath of hell ! Pooh ! this is just such a night as one might 
 expect to see our very good friend the devil abroad." 
 
 He is no friend of mine, Senor Alosegui, although he may be a 
 particular one of yours," said Eonald "with a smile. 
 
 " By the holy house of Nazareth ! " swore the bandit, " you may 
 come to a close acquaintance with him after you have served for a 
 time, as I expect you shall, in our honourable company." 
 
 " "Well ; but what of the storm ? " asked Eonald, more interested 
 about that, and unwilhng to quarrel with his captor when there was 
 so near a prospect of release. " What leads you to suppose there 
 will be one to-night ? " 
 
 " These few rain-drops now falling are large and round ; hark, how 
 they splash on the battlement ! The valley, the sierra, the tower, 
 the river, and everything bear a deep saffron tint, partaking of the 
 hue of the troubled sky. Santos! we shall have a storm roaring 
 among the mountains and leaping along the valleys to-night, which 
 will cause the old droning monks at Maya to grow pale as they look 
 upon each other's fat faces, and while they^miunble their aves, count 
 their beads, and bring forth the morsel* of the true cross to scare 
 away Satanas and his imps of evil. By the bye, speaking of IMaya 
 reminds me of your case, senor. A train of mules, which crossed the 
 Pyrenees without paying us our customary t9ll, are on their return 
 homeward from Bayonne to Maya, laden vrith the very best of all 
 the good things this world affords, for the use of the pious and 
 abstaining fathers of the convent of Saint Francis. Porty men, com- 
 manded by Narvaez Cifuentes, mil set out to-morrow to meet our 
 friends in the Pass of Maya, and a sharp engagement will probably 
 take place. A priest is with them ; on his shoulder he bears the 
 banner of Saint Prancis of Assissi, but if they imagine that we 
 hidalgos of fortune will respect it, the holy fathers are wofully mis- 
 taken. The mules are escorted by a party of armed peasants, 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 421 
 
 commanded by an old acquaintance of Gorgorza, the padre Porko, 
 ■who is as brave as the Cid, and has served with honour in the guerilla 
 bands during the war of independence. The muleteers are all stout 
 fellows, too, and being well armed with cajados, trahiccaa, and long 
 knives, will likely show fight,— and, truly, Narvaez will see some 
 sharp work. Now, hark you, senor ; if you are willing to join him 
 and his brave companions, you will have an opportunity of making 
 your first essay as a cavalier of fortune under a very distinguished 
 commander. Do this, senor, and you will live among us honoured 
 and respected, as an equal, a friend, and a brave comrade. If you 
 fall in conflict, all is at an end : but if taken by the authorities, to 
 suffer martyrdom by the law on the gallows, the garrote, or the 
 wheel, then you will have the glory of dying amid a vast multitude, 
 upon whose sympathy the fame of your exploits will draw largely. 
 You like not my proposition ? Well, senor cahallero, I have to 
 acquaint you that I shall not be able to resist the fierce importunities 
 of Narvaez Cifuentes, and those who are his particular friends. Their 
 poniards are ready to leap from their scabbards against you now, — 
 novj that all chance of your being ransomed has failed. I have a 
 sort of friendship for you, senor, because, instead of supplicating for 
 life, you have rather seemed to defy fearlessly the terrors of death ; 
 the which stubbornness of soul, if it wins not the pity, certainly 
 excites the admiration of the jovial picaros, my comrades. You are 
 a fine fellow over the chess-board or wine-cup, and your bearing 
 would be complete if you would follow the example of Cifuentes, and 
 swear and swagger a little at times. But you will acknowledge that 
 the flowing ease of action and expression which distinguishes that 
 accomplished cavaher, are diflicult of imitation." 
 
 " I must confess they are, Senor Gaspar," replied Ronald, who 
 could scarcely help smiling at the other's manner, which had in it a 
 strange mixture of impudence, and part serious, part banter. '' But 
 I have really no desire to become the pupil of your friend." 
 
 "As you please, amigo mio ; as you please," replied Alosegui, 
 speaking slowly as he puffed at his cigar ; for, like a true Spaniard, 
 he smoked from the time he opened his eyes in the morning till he 
 closed them again at night. " I once saw you perform the bandit to the 
 very life in the Posada de los Representes at Aranjuez, when the 
 British officers acted La Gitana, and some of Lope de Vega's pieces, 
 for the amusement of themselves and the ladies of the city. You 
 are a superb imitator, and, under the tuition of Narvaez, would, I 
 doubt not, fulfil my utmost expectations." 
 
 "The devil take Narvaez!" muttered Eon aid, who was getting 
 impatient of Caspar's style of speech. 
 
 "All in good time," said the other quietly. ."You have been 
 enemies of old, I beheve ; some affair of rivalry, in which Cifuentes 
 was successful. I understand perfectly ; but in our community, 
 among the Pyrenees here, we have no such petty feelings of dislike. 
 However, senor," continued the robber, suddenly changing his 
 satirical tone for a stern and bullying one ; " however, I would have 
 you to think well of all I have said, as I should be sorry to see-your 
 Dones cast into the vast depth of the chasm, to swell the grisly com- 
 pany there. So give me a definite answer to-morrow, senor, before 
 Narvaez departs for Maya, or fatal results may ensue." 
 ^ He flourished the paper cigar which he held between two fingers, 
 
423 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 and withdrew, nodding significantly as his tall and bulky figure 
 descended the narrow staircase leading do^vn from the paved roof of 
 the toAver. 
 
 Ronald, who was glad of his strange friend's departure, turned 
 again to watch the long vista of the valley, which was now involved 
 in darkness. He would probably have remained there till midnight, 
 but he was soon compelled to follow Alosegui, as the storm, wlucti 
 had long been threatening, now descended in all its fury. 
 
 The atmosphere became dense and close, while the sky grew 
 rapidly darker and darker, till it assumed the dreary blackness of a 
 winter night, and an ocean of rain descended on the earth with such 
 violence, tiiat it was a wonder the little tower was not levelled beneath 
 it like a house of cards. The thunder-peals were grand and sublime : 
 louder and louder than a thousand broadsides, they roared as if 
 neaven and earth were coming together. 
 
 The banditti grew pale as they viewed each other's grim visages in 
 the blue glare of the lightning. They grew pale as death, and their 
 ^ felon souls" quaked within them, for there is a terrible something 
 in the sound of thunder, which appals most men. It seems like 
 God's OAvn voice speaking in the firmament. 
 
 But Alosegui called for hghts and for hquor, and pig-skins and 
 jars were speedily set abroach ; the half-ruined hall was soon illimii- 
 nated by candles of all sorts and sizes,*wliich streamed and guttered, 
 untrimmed and unheeded, in the currents of air that passed freely 
 through the place, although the crazy -vvindows were covered up with 
 boards, and sjufied with cloaks, bags of straw, &c. to keep out the 
 wind and rain. 
 
 Assembled in the dilapidated hall, if it deserved such a name, the 
 banditti withdrew their guards and scouts, and forgot the storm 
 without amid the laughter and brutal uproar of their carousal. 
 Wine and the strong heady aguadiente — a liquor not unlike Scottish 
 whisky, — were flowing like water, and the noise within the Torre de 
 los Frayles almost equalled the uproar of the elements %vithout. 
 
 Honald's spirits fell, and he grew sad; he expected that there 
 would be no attack that night, and he pitied the unfortunate soldiers 
 who were exposed on a night-march to such a storm. From old 
 experience he well knew the misery of such a duty. He withdrew 
 from the scene of bandit merriment, and seeking a solitary place, 
 watched the elemental war without, and gazed with mingled awe 
 and pleasure on the bright streaks of forked lightning as they darted 
 through the sky, hghting up the shattered chfi's, the mountain tops, 
 the deep valley, and the swollen river, — displajing them vividly, ting- 
 ing them all over with a pale sulphurous blue, and causing the whole 
 scene to assume a wild and ghastly appearance. Again the thunder 
 roared, then died a\^■ay, and nought could be heard but the howling 
 wind, and the rain rushing fiercely down from the parted clouds. 
 
 Aiiex continuing ' for about two hours, the storm at last began to 
 abate, and Stuart's hopes of freedom revived. It yet wanted some 
 hours of midnight, but he greatly feared that the fury of such a 
 tempest would scatter Don Alvaro's command of horse and foot, 
 drench them to the skin, and destroy their arms and ammunition,. 
 Yet he still continued at the loophole, watching the dispersion of the 
 clouds, the appearance of the slars, and the increasing light of the 
 moon as the successive slirouds of gauze-like vapour withdrew from 
 her shining face. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAH. 423 
 
 While thus engaged, lie was aroused by the sound of some one 
 standing behind him. He turned shari^ly round, and beheld 
 Cifuentes, flushed with his potations, and ripe for bra^^ 1 and uproar, 
 reeling about with a hoVn of liquor in one hand and a drawn stiletto 
 in the other. In his drunken insolence he dashed the cup, which 
 was full of the rich wine of Ciudad Eeal, in llonald's face, and he 
 was for a moment almost bhnded by the liquor. Full of fury at the 
 insult, he rushed upon the robber, and grasping him by his strong 
 and bull-like neck, tripped up his heels and hurled him to the lloor 
 in a twinkling. He dashed the head of the aggressor twice on the 
 pavement to stun him, and wrestUng the poniard from his grasp., 
 would inevitably have slain him with it, bad he not been prevented 
 by the interference of the ci-devant pad)'e Gorgorza and others. Ho 
 was grasped from behind and drawn away from his antagonist, who 
 had very httle breath left in his body after such a knock-down 
 Drawn daggers were gleaming on every side ; but the ruffians stood 
 so much in awe of Alosegui's formidable strength and vengeance, 
 that they longed yet feared to strike Stuart with their weapons. In 
 the grasp of so many, his arms were pinioned fast, so that his rage 
 could only be indicated by the heaving of his breast, by the fire which 
 glared in his eyes, and by the swollen veins of his forehead. 
 
 A short pause ensued, until Narvaez staggered up from the floor, 
 completely sobered, but at the same time completely infuriated by 
 the assault which he had sustained. He at first howled like a wild 
 beast and sprang upon his helpless prisoner with the intention of 
 poniarding him on the spot ; but suddenly changing his mind, he 
 laughed wildly, and swore and muttered while pointing to a r9pe 
 which, unhappily, was at that time dangling from the stone mulhon 
 of a window, about twelve feet from the floor, and he proposed to 
 hang Stuart here. The idea was greeted with a perfect storm ot 
 yells and applause. 
 
 A cold perspiration burst over the form of the captive, and he 
 struggled with a strength and determination of which hitherto he 
 had believed himself incapable ; but his eflbrts were as those of a 
 child, in the hands of so many. He had to contend with forty devils 
 incarnate, well armed, and flushed with rage and wine. 
 
 How eagerly at that moment Stuart longed for the appearance of 
 Alvaro, and how deeply he deplored his having given loose to passion, 
 when, by restraining it, another hour had perhaps seen him free ; 
 Eut he longed in vain, for Alvaro came not, and his regrets were 
 fruitless. He was to die now, and by the ignominious cord ! 
 
 As they dragged him across the apartment, he called frantically 
 on Alosegui ; but that worthy lay on the floor in a corner insensible, 
 — or perhaps, pretending to be so, — from the quantity of liquor he 
 had imbibed. In this dreadful extremity, when hovering on the 
 ■^ery verge of death, Eonald condescended to remind Cifuentes thai, 
 he saved his life at Merida, when Don Alvaro was about to hang 
 him like a cur, in the chapter-house of a convent there. 
 
 But Narvaez only grinned, as, with the assistance of his great ro-.r 
 of teeth, he knotted a loop on the cord, and said that it was by the 
 rope, the bullet, or the dagger, he always paid his debts, and that he 
 had permitted Stuart to live too long to satisfy his scruples as an 
 honourable Spaniard. 
 
 " Up with him, amigos mios ! " cried he, flourishing the hateful 
 noose. " Car o jo ! pull, and with a fijrong hand I " 
 
424 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 At that moment Eonald uttered a cry of triumphant joy; 
 !Narvaez dropped the cord, and the banditti started back, cowering 
 ■with alarm. The stairs and the doorway of the apartment were 
 filled \nth soldiers, ihe sight of whose bristling bayonets, with the 
 shout of "Death to the landidos! Viva el Rey ! " struck terror on 
 the recreant garrison of the Torre de los Frayles. Several officers 
 rushed forward with their swords drawn ; and in the tall cavalier 
 with the steel helmet, corslet, and cavalry uniform, Eonald recog- 
 nized his old friend, Alvaro de Villa Franca. 
 
 " Dogs and villains ! " he exclaimed, " sujTender ! But expect no 
 mercy ; for I swear to you, by the head of the king, that ye shall all 
 die, and before another day da\vns, — ay, every man of you ! " 
 
 By this time the hall was crowded by about fifty infantry, while a 
 number of dismounted dragoons, armed with their swords and 
 carbines, occupied the stair and adjacent passages. The cowards, 
 whose den had been so suddenly surprised, forgetting to use the 
 weapons with ^hich they were so well equipped, fell upon their 
 knees,— ^very man excepting Narvaez. They cried for mercy in the 
 most abject terms; but the cavalier turned a deaf ear to their 
 entreaties, as they had done to hundreds before. 
 
 " Senor Don Eonald ! " said he, embracing Stuart, " our Lady has 
 been singularly favourable to us to-night. We toiled our way over 
 these rocky mountains, notwithstanding the storm, and have truly 
 arrived at a most critical moment. Our friends of the Friars', or 
 rather of the Thieves' Tower, shall find that I have not made a 
 fruitless journey from Madrid. But first allow me to introduce an 
 old friend^ Don Pedro Gomez." 
 
 A number of ceremonious Castilian bows were exchanged, after 
 which the cavalier continued, — 
 
 " Immediately on receiving your letter, and obtaining all the infor- 
 mation requisite about this den of the devil, I ordered the bearer, 
 Juan — Juan — I forget his name, to be hanged ; and, waiting on 
 Diego de Avallo, our secretary for home affairs, I procured a com- 
 mission under the great seal to proceed as I chose in the duty of 
 rooting out this nest of ruffians, who have so long been the terror of 
 the country hereabout ; and by the sacred shrine of the Virgin del 
 Pilar ! J will avenge your captivity and their crimes most signally. 
 Guard well the staircase and doorway with our own troopers, Don 
 Pedro." 
 
 The ci-devant Serjeant was garbed and equipped like Alvaro, and 
 had evidently acquired very much the air of a well-bred cavalier. 
 
 Excepting Alosegui, who stared about him with an air of drunken 
 stupidity, the robbers were completely sobered, and remained on their 
 knees, crying for mercy, — mercy in the name of the Holy Virgin, of 
 her Son, of the saints, and in the name of Heaven ; but stern looks 
 and charged bayonets were the only, and certainly fitting reply ; and 
 one by one they were stripped of their poniards aud pistols, which 
 were broken and destroyed by the soldiers. Narvaez alone scorned to 
 kneel, but he stood scowling around him with a dogged, sullen, and 
 pale visage, while his knees quaked and trembled violently, 
 
 " Alvaro," said Stuart, " look upon this sulky ruffian, who is too 
 proud, or perhaps too frightened, to kneel." 
 
 " Cifuentes of Albuquerque ! " cried the stern cavalier, in a tone 
 almost rising into a shriek. . " Dios mio ! the destroyer of Catahna, of 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAS. 423 
 
 my poor sister ! Ah, master-fiend ! most daring of villains ! 
 Heaven lias at last delivered you to me, that you may receive the 
 reward of your long life of crime. At last you shall die by my hand ! " 
 He was about to run him through the heart, but checked the half- 
 given thrust. 
 
 " No ! " he continued, " you shall not die thus. To fall by my 
 sword is a death fit for a hidalgo or cavalier. Thou shalt pass other- 
 wise from this earth to hell, and die like a dog as thou art ! " 
 
 Taking his heavy Toledo sabre by the blade, he aimed a blow at 
 Narvaez, which demolished his lower jaw, and laid him on the floor. 
 Upon the throat of the writhing robber he placed the heel of his 
 heavy jack-boot, and watched, without the slightest feeling of com- 
 punction or remorse, the horrible distortions and death agonies 
 exhibited in his visage, and from his compressed throat mthdrew 
 not his foot till he had completely strangled him, and he lay a 
 blackened, bloated, and disfigured corse on the floor. 
 
 " At length Catalina is avenged ! " exclaimed the cavalier, turning 
 with fierce exultation to Stuart, who had witnessed without regret 
 or interference, the retribution which had so suddenly hurled the 
 once-formidable Narvaez to the shades. 
 
 The fears of the banditti were renewed on beholding this terrible 
 scene, and again they implored piteously to be spared, offering to 
 become Alyaro's slaves, imploring that they might be sent to dig in 
 his mines in Estremadura, or sent to the galleys, or anywhere, — but, 
 oh ! to spare their \\Tetched lives, and they would ofiend against 
 God and man no more. The stern cavalier listened as if he heard 
 them not. He ordered them to be pinioned ; and Lazaro Gomez 
 appearing with a huge bundle of the cords with which he bound his 
 mules' packages, tied the ladrones in pairs, binding them hard and 
 fast back to back. 
 
 Meanwhile some of the soldiers were ransacking the tower " from 
 turret to foundation-stone," expecting to find vaults and strong 
 rooms piled with vast heaps of treasure. But the soldados were 
 wofully disappointed ; not a cross or coin fell into their hands, save 
 what they obtained in the pouches of the thieves, whom they pricked 
 remorsely with their bayonets and otherwise maltreated, to force 
 them to reveal where their plunder was deposited. 
 
 Whether the wretches were obstinate, or had nothing to conceal, 
 I know not ; but the exasperation of the soldiers was greatly increased 
 when they discovered that they should return without the gold, the 
 jewellery, and the consecrated images, with which they hoped to 
 nave stuffed their havresacks. 
 
 " This is well," said Alvaro, watching with grim satisfaction the 
 adroit manner in which Lazaro linked the rogues together. " On 
 my honour, Lazaro, you should have been a general instead of a 
 mule-driver. But what is wisdom in the former, the world stigma- 
 tizes as mere cunning in the latter. Believe me, Senor Stuart, the 
 entire success of this expedition is principally owing to this sturdy 
 rogue of Merida, on whom I would bestow a cherry-cheeked bride 
 and a thousand hard ducats, if he would only quit mule-driving, 
 and settle quietly down within the sound of the bells of San 
 Juan. He was our guide to-night during the whole of the tempest, 
 and notwithstanding its fury and the darkness, which was so intense 
 that I could scarcely see my horse's ears, he conducted us up tho 
 
426 THE ROMANCE OF WAE, 
 
 mountains, by some chasm or gorge, safely and surely, horse and 
 foot, as only the devil — " 
 
 " Or a muleteer of Merida, senor." 
 
 " Ay, Lazaro, or a muleteer of j\Ierida, could have done. He pro- 
 vided planks for us to cross the (diasni here, Avhich otherwise must 
 have brou;;ht us to a dead halt; and it was entirely owinc^ to his 
 tact and observation that we were enabled to surprise the villains at 
 so critical a time. A sore penance you must have endured, my 
 friend, in spending so many months in such company ; but it might 
 be the less regretted, as it will probably go to your account of time 
 in purgatory. You shall have most ample satisfaction, however, 
 before the night is much older, for all the injuries you have suflered 
 from them." 
 
 llonald was so much overjoyed at his deliverance, that he could 
 scarcely find words to express his feehngs, and the obligations which 
 he owed to Don Alvaro ; but with a spirit of forgiveness highly 
 honourable, he began to intercede for the lives of some of the 
 banditti, who had not made themselves quite so obnoxious a-s the 
 rest while he was kept in durance among them ; but Alvaro replied, 
 that the commands of Don Diego de Avallo, the Spanish minister, 
 expressly enjoined that no quarter should be given, as it was the 
 intention of government to strike a general terror into the banditti 
 which infested every part of the country, and that they must be cut 
 off, root and branch. Konald then proposed that they should be 
 marched down the mountains to Vittoria, or any other towna, and 
 there delivered over to the civil authorities ; but Villa Franca said 
 that he had no time to spare, and the horde of the Torre de los 
 Prayles must be instantly disposed of. 
 
 " We settle these matters quicker in Spain than you do in Britain, 
 Avhere the military are so simple as to permit themselves to be ruled 
 by alcaldes and lawyers," said the cavalier, smiling and waving his 
 hand with a decided air. " So we will leave these humbled bravoes 
 to the tender care of Don Pedro Gomez, and then take our departure 
 for the tovna of Maya, to which our horses will convey us in a few 
 hours. Thank Heaven, the storm has completely passed away, and 
 the appearance of the moon gives promise of a glorious night. With- 
 out her assistance we shou.d assuredly break our necks in descending 
 from this cursed eagle's nest." 
 
 The soldiers fell back respectfully, as Eonald and Alvaro left the 
 crowded hall. Ronald's heart was dancing vrith delight as tliey 
 descended the worn and dilapidated stair, upon the steps of which 
 he had not trodden for five months since the unhappy night on 
 which he first entered this Pyrenean prison-house. Pausing a 
 moment, to direct that the head of Cifuentes should be struck off, 
 according to the Spanish custom, and placed upon a pole in the Pass 
 of_ Maya, the cavalier descended after Stuart. But the despairing 
 cries and fervent supplications of the prisoners followed them; and 
 some, on finding that their last moment was come, began to shriek 
 for a priest in the most heart-rending accents of superstitious terror 
 and despair ; but no priest was there to hear their horrible confessions. 
 
 " A padre, a padre, noble senores ! A padre, por amor de Santa 
 Maria, el Madre de Bios .'" hoAvled the despairing Gorgorza deb 
 Puente, as the soldiers dragged him forth. Noble cavalier, valiant 
 (soldiers ! destroy me not, body and soul ! I am a holy priest, senores 1 
 
XnE ROMANCE OP WAR. 427 
 
 Sli ! I was one oucc. Hear nie, for tlic love of Heaven! 1 have 
 much to repent of, and terrible things to confess. I poniarded a 
 monk in San Sebastian, and stole the holy vessels from his altar. 
 I-I— » 
 
 " Quick nith the rope ! " cried Pedro. " Twist it about his neck, 
 and stop his mouth before he raises his master, the devil, hj speaking 
 thus.-"' 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! " shrieked the other, struggling furiously, as 
 three stout soldiers dragged him to the summit of the tower. " ]\Ier«y 
 yet a little Avhile ! I carried o(f a lady of Subijana de Alava, and 
 robbed her of life and honour among the mountains. _ I robbed 
 — holy saints ! good soldiers ! will no one hear my confession ? Can 
 no one hear me ? — can no man forgive me ? Accursed may ye be ! 
 bloody Avolves and pitiless — O misericordia, mioDios ! O Santissima 
 Mana J " and he Avas launched into eternity. 
 
 Nearly twenty men were pouring forth rhapsodies like the above, 
 and the tower became filled with sounds of lamentation, shrieks, and 
 cries, — groans^ prayers, and the wildest blasphemy mingled with the 
 most pious ejaculations ; but it was a just retribution which had 
 fallen upon these vncked men. 
 
 Ronald's heart beat lightly as he crossed the terrible chasm, where 
 so many unfortunates had found a tomb. He had been a captive — 
 on the very verge of death, and now he was free, " himself again." 
 
 The bright moon was shining aloft like a globe of silver, and the 
 dewy sides of the hills, the rivulets which trickled from the rocks, the 
 sleepy stream at the bottom of the valley, and every violet-cup and 
 blade of grass were gleaming in its radiant light. 
 
 At a little distance from the chasm were a party of Alvaro's 
 cavalry, escorting the horses of those who were engaged in the tower, 
 and their tall lance-heads, bright helmets, and cuirasses, were flashing 
 and glittering in the moonlight. Their caparisoned war-horses were 
 sleek-skinned and long-tailed Andalusians, and were cropping the 
 grass vnth. their bridles loose. 
 
 " Pedro is a rough dog," said the cavalier, looking complacently 
 back. " He is stringing a fair chaplet for the devil in the merry 
 moonlight. In ten minutes he will have the ladrones all dangling 
 over the battlement. Santos ! 'tis not work for soldiers' hands : 
 but the dogs deserve not to die by military weapons, for they are as 
 arrant cowards as ever blanched before the eye of a brave man. 
 Look back, just now, Don Ronald !" 
 
 Ronald turned round, and beheld with disgust the Spanish soldiers 
 forcing the pinioned banditti over the walls, where they hung by the 
 neck, dangling and writhing in couples. Although he was at some 
 distance from the tower, he could distinctly perceive their con- 
 vulsions, and heard their heels rattling against the walls, from the 
 ruinous battlement of which the stones were tumbling every instant 
 into the chasm with a thundering sound which caused the horses 
 of the lancers to snort and rear. It was a ghastly sight. 
 
 " Now, then, ho for Maya ! I believe we shall find our way 
 across the mountains without the aid of Lazaro, now the bright 
 moon is shining with such splendour," was the exclamation of 
 Alvaro as they mounted and set forth. Stuart rode beside him on 
 the horse of an orderly, and four Spanish lancers followed as an 
 «scort. They descended towards the valley by the steep and perilous 
 
428 THE EOMANCE OF VTAE. 
 
 pathway, Avhicli was so narrow as to admit but one horseman 
 at a time, and often overhung the abyss, passing so close to 
 the edge of the beetling crags, that the eye scarcely dared to 
 scan the depth below. It was well for the riders that the horses 
 they rode had been accustomed to stand fire, otherwise some lives 
 might have l)een lost as they descended the rocks. Before they 
 were half-way down, a sudden glare shot across the sky from the 
 mountains above them. A terrific shock and explosion followed, 
 and the rock of the Torre de los Frayles w-as seen enveloped in a 
 cloud of black smoke, which, after curling upwards, float-ed away 
 through the clear blue sky. 
 
 "Keep your horses tight by the head!" cried Alvaro, as his 
 mettlesome steed kicked and plunged in the narrow path, whilst 
 Bonald expected to see him vanish over the rocks every second. 
 " Draw Avell on the cm-b, senors ; or, diavolo ! some of us will be in 
 the other Avorld presently !" 
 
 Their cattle, however, were soon quieted, and Stuart again looked 
 towards the place where the Torre de los Frayles had stood, but no 
 trace of the tower was visible. The smoke had dispersed, and the 
 rock was bare. The sound of a cavalry trumpet, calling " to mount," 
 was heard soon afterwards, and the roll of an infantry drum echoed 
 away among the mountains. 
 
 " Pedro has put powder in the vaults and blown up the place, that 
 it may never again become a nest of such birds of prey," said 
 Alvaro. " 'Tis a tower of friars or thieves no longer, but in one 
 moment has been dashed into fifty thousand fragments of stone. 
 Here comes Pedro on our rear; the troop are descending the 
 hill." 
 
 As he spoke, along line of glittering casques and spears, moving 
 in single file, appeared descending the rocks, and vanishing in suc- 
 cession under the shadow of the impending chff", behind which the 
 moon was shining, and casting long gigantic shadows across the 
 valley below. The soldiers brought with them the now crest-fallen 
 and dejected Alosegui, who, as Ronald's former preserver and 
 defender, was, at his earnest intercession, alone permitted to 
 escape the terrible retribution so successfully \vrought on his guilty 
 confreres. 
 
 On inquiring about Carlos de Avallo, to whose evil influence 
 Honald beUeved his captivity to have been mainly o^\ing. Villa 
 Pranca informed him that a duel had taken place between that 
 violent young cavalier and Don Alvarado. It had been fought on 
 the Puerta del Sol of Elizondo, about mid-day, four months pre- 
 viously, and ended by Carlos being run through the body by 
 Alvarado, who, to escape the vengeance of his victim's uncle, Don 
 Diego, had absconded to South America, and had not been since 
 beard of. 
 
THE EOMANCI,' OP WAB. 429 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 AN ACQUAINTANCE, AND " OLD ENGLAND ON THE LEE.'* 
 
 "Pho !" said the count, as they rode into Maya, "amid all the 
 things of which we have been talking, I had quite forgotten to say 
 that there is a countryman of yours here in this town, one who takes 
 the utmost interest in your concerns — why I know not ; he said he 
 was no relative. "We became acquainted at Madrid, and, on hearing 
 of your story, he proposed at once to accompany me in this ex- 
 pedition against the robbers in the Pyrenees and other places. He 
 is a spirited, but rather impetuous old cavalier. He has seen service, 
 too, in the Low Countries and other parts, but appears of late to 
 have become somewhat addicted to ease and good living, which has 
 enlarged the circumference of his stomach more than he wishes, and 
 has rendered him subject to a disease we know little of in Spain, — the 
 gout. A sudden fit of it seized him when we were marching en route 
 to your rescue, and the worthy hidalgo was compelled, much against 
 his will, to quarter himself in Maya till our return. He awaits us 
 yonder in the Posada de las Caballeros, opposite to the convent of 
 Saint Prancis." 
 
 This being nearly the whole of the information respecting " his 
 countryman," with which Alvaro was able to furnish his companion, 
 Eonald was not a little surprised, on alighting at the miserable 
 posada, to find reclining, in dressing-gown and slippers, in an easy 
 chair, with one leg, swollen and swathed in flannel, resting on a 
 footstool, and with a heap of newspapers, guide-books, decanters, 
 cigars, a brace of pistols, and a hght-dragoon sabre displayed upon a 
 table before him, no less a person than his noble competitor the Earl 
 of Hyndford. The earl received his young rival kindly, displayed 
 much generous feehng towards him as a brother soldier, laughed 
 heartily at his scarecrow appearance, — for his long residence in the 
 tower had told immensely upon Ronald's rather scanty wardrobe, — 
 and finally, after having heard his story, and repeatedly and ener- 
 getically d— d the banditti, the Horse Guards, the gout, and the 
 Peninsula, and having assured his young friend that though there 
 might have been a little weeping, and so forth, on his account at 
 home, there were no broken hearts nor any symptoms of forget- 
 fulness, he promised him— on behalf of his friend " York," with 
 whom he had formerly served as aide-de-camp, and his friend Hal 
 Torrens, who, though a war-office man and a staff-oflficer, was a 
 good fellow enough— the immediate restoration of his forfeited com- 
 mission, and letters to the parties named that should put all right 
 with respect to it. 
 
 "S^^hile a prisoner in the Torre de los Prayles, Ronald had remained 
 in total ignorance of several events of some importance ; and, though 
 he was by no means astonished to learn from the earl that his name 
 had disappeared from the army list, and that he was superseded, it 
 did occasion him some shght surprise to learn that Buonaparte had 
 escaped from Elba, that he had entered Paris in triumph, and was 
 once more at the head of the French army, surrounded by many of 
 his old marshals, and supported by the old enthusiasm of his de- 
 
 II. a » 
 
490 THE BOltANCE OF V^AB. 
 
 voted soliiicrs. His o\m regimeat, Eonald heard, bad been ordered 
 to Flanders, where some sbai-p fighting was expected to occur 
 forthwith. 
 
 Three days afterwards he found himself on board the packet at 
 P;;ssages, bound for London. 
 
 On his partiup; ■\;ith Alvaro, that cavaher presented him with hi:5 
 own gold cross of St. J ago, begging him te wear it as a token of re- 
 membrance. It wsL'i not without feelings of the deepest regret that 
 lie bade adieu to this noble and chivalric Spaniard ; and he felt all 
 that depression of spirit which a frank and honest heart unavoidably 
 suffers after a leave-taking. Hyndford he expected to meet again, 
 but the cavaher of Merida never. However, such sensations of 
 regret were transi to ry ; he had followed the dru in too long to find 
 parting with a br.iTC or merry companion a new matter. 
 
 The vessel cast anchor in the Downs at night. It had " come to 
 bio\v a sodger's mnd," as the skipper said, — that is, a foul one ; and 
 there was no getting up the river at that time, when the goodly 
 invention of steam-tugs was as yet unknown. 
 
 >iext morning he landed with his baggage at Deal, and started in 
 a post-chaise for London. Immediately on his arrival there, he 
 despatched letters to Colonel Cameron, to Inchavou, and Lochiski, 
 giving an account of the perils attendant on his detention in Spain, 
 and safe arrival in England. In the fulness of his joy, he also wrote 
 to Sir Colquhoun ]Menteith, of CairntoAvis, a near relation, with 
 whom his family had ever been at variance, and maintained a petty 
 l^ersonal feud. But the old baronet never acknowledged the receipt of 
 his letter, which caused llonald to regret deeply that he had ever 
 •written to him or his son, who was then serving with the army in 
 Flanders. The letter addressed to the old laird lay long at the post- 
 house of Strathfillan, and turned from white to saffron m the window, 
 among tape and needles, pins and thread-reels, until at last it was 
 torn up and destroyed. 
 
 The others v/ere received in due course by those to whom they 
 w^ere addressed, and all, save that to Sir Colquhoun, caused joy and 
 congratulation ; and so long did the mess continue discussing his 
 adventures, in ail their various lights and shades, through the 
 medium of the sb:th, seventh, and eighth alloicances, tliat it is 
 credibly reported that only a third of the officers appeared on parade 
 in the Park of Brussels next morning. 
 
 On the day after his arrival, Stuart repaired to the Horse Guards, 
 to wait on the Duke of York, the commander-in-chief He had no 
 doubt that his case would be heard favourably by the good duke, 
 w^hose well-knov/n kindness and fellow-feeling for his brothers of the 
 sword gained him the appropriate sobriquet of the " soldier's friend ;" 
 and he was one to whom the wife, the widow, or the child of a 
 soldier, in their sorrow or destitution, never made an appeal in vain. 
 His lloyal Highness was not at the Horse Guards that day, and 
 Sonald v»'as received by Sir Henry Torrens, a plump little man, 
 %vhom he imagined at first to be the very personification of staff- 
 office hauteur ; but found, on further acquaintance.^ to be all that 
 Hyndford painted him, and a deuced good lellow besides. 
 
 He received Stuart kindly, inquired after many of his old friends, 
 opened his eyes widely at what he called the auducity of the brigands 
 in detaining a British ofiiccr, read attentively the letters of Alvaro and 
 
THE E03IANCE OF WAE. 431 
 
 yndford, appeared to take great interest in the affair, and gave the 
 ominous oiiicial promise " to see what could be done." 
 
 Three days afterwards, however, an orderly of the Life Guards 
 nrou^lit Eonald an ofhcial packet from Sir Henry, notifying liis re 
 appointment, and containing two orders, — one to proceed forthwith 
 to join in Planders, " where his services were much required ;" and 
 the other on the Paymaster-general for all his arrears of pay, and 
 other sums due to him by Government, £400 " blood money ," for 
 wounds, and eighty guineas as compensation for the loss of his 
 baggnge when the JPass of JMaya was forced by lilarshal Soult twq 
 years before. 
 
 Eonald blessed the hberality of John Bull, who had not forgotten 
 the fright of Napoleon's threatened invasion, and was more inclined 
 to be grateful to his sons then, than now. The money-orders were 
 very acceptable things, as they relieved Ronald from the necessity 
 of drawing upon his iatlier, whose involvements and expenses he 
 supposed to be sufhcient already. 
 
 " "J^his is excellent," thought he. " I can now repay Hyndford, 
 und travel comfortably post to Brussels. But yet, 'tis vexatious to 
 proceed forthAvith. I held out hopes to Alice, and the people in 
 Perthshire, of seeing them all soon. Well, 'tis the fortune of war, 
 and repining is worse than useless." _ 
 
 So he thought, as he elbowed his way along the crowded Strand 
 towards the office of Mr. Bruce, the regimental agent, humming 
 gaily as he went the old song — 
 
 " Oh, the Lowlands of Holland, 
 Have parted my love and me," &c. 
 
 Most willingly, however, would he have applied for a short leave 
 of absence, nov/ so eminently his due, to enable him to pay a brief 
 visit to his Perthshire fi-iends, and see once again his beloved Alice 
 before encountering anew the perils and hardships of war ; but the 
 exigencies of the ser\ice Avere pressing, his orders peremptory, and 
 the fear of missing the glory of a new campaign reconciled him to 
 the necessity of a speedy departure. He applied himself diligently 
 to the business of instant preparation, and found relief for his excited 
 feelings in the bustle attendant on acquiring a new outfit. A short 
 time sufliced to procure him the necessary equipage for camp and 
 field, and he was soon ready to resume active military duties. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIIL 
 
 FLANDERS, . 
 
 A FEW days aftenvards he was on his way, hastening to join thei 
 army in Belgium. His ' orders were to travel with speed, as hos- 
 tilities were expected daily. All Europe was alarmed^ great events 
 were expected, and mail and telegraph arrivals were Avatched with 
 the most feverish anxiety. 
 
 On landing at Ostend, Stuart heard that Buonaparte had joined the 
 3?rench army, and had issued a proclamation calling to mind thei 
 
 2 f2 
 
4y2 TEE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 former victories, and telling them that ft«sh dangers were to be 
 dared and battles won ; but he felt assured their familiarity with 
 hardship and death, their steadiness, discipline, and inherent bravery, 
 would make them, in every encounter, most signally victorious. 
 
 '■ Time will prove all this," thought Eonald, as seated on an in- 
 verted keg, he was deciphering this proclamation in a French paper, 
 while travelling on the canal of Ostend in a flat-bottomed boat for 
 Bruges. 
 
 The broad and vraveless surface of' the long yellow canal was 
 gleaming under the meridian sun like polished metal • and, when 
 standing erect on the roof or upper deck of the barge, he could see 
 it for miles winding away through the country, which on every side 
 was verdant and flat, like a vast bowling-green. The monotony of 
 the scenery struck Stuart the more forcibly, because, as a Highlander, 
 he could not help drawing comparisons between it and the tremendous 
 hills, the solemn valleys, and the majestic rivers of his native Scot- 
 land. At times, a few bulbous-shaped boors, in steeple-crowned hats, 
 or fur caps, and enormous breeches, appeared on the canal bank, 
 singly or in groups, smoking their long pipes, and staring hard with 
 their great lack-lustre eyes on the passing boat, the slow motion of 
 wliich they would watch for miles, standing on the same spot, im- 
 movable as a milestone. Very plump and very red-cheeked country 
 girls, wearing short petticoats, and making an unusual display of 
 legs, which were more substantial than elegant, appeared tripping 
 along the banks, bearing jars of milk or butter on their heads, where 
 they were poised with miraculous exactness. Sometimes a party of 
 these rustic fair ones passed in a gaudily-painted cart or waggon, all 
 laughing and talking merrily, — their noisy vivacity forming a strange 
 contrast with the sulky demeanour of the silent and phlegmatic 
 boor, who sat smoking and driving on the tram of the car, keeping 
 his seat there with the same lurching motion that a bag of oats 
 would have done. There is little disposition in Dutch or German 
 blood to be gallant or cavalierlike. 
 
 Afar in the distance, where the landscape stretched away as level 
 as the sea, were seen great squares of light green or bright yellow, 
 show ing where lay the fields of golden corn and other grain, waving, 
 ripe and tall, everywhere ready for the sickle. In some places ap- 
 peared a cluster of pretty little cottages, their w^alls white as alabaster, 
 and roofed with bright yellow thatch, embosomed among a grove of 
 light willow-trees, from the midst of wiiich arose the tall and slender 
 church spire, surmounted by a clumsy vane, around which flew 
 scores of cawing rooks, fluttering and contesting for footing on the 
 gilded weathercock. Sometimes the canal barge passed through the 
 very midst of a farm and close to the mansion, with its deep, thatched 
 roof, having walls of glaring white or yellow, and gaudj' red or blue 
 streaks six inches broad painted round each door and window, — the 
 brass knocker on the green door, the burnished windows, the gilt 
 vanes, and painted walls, all gleaming in the hght of the sun. Con- 
 trasting with the rural dwelling, the parterres before it, the stack-ya.rd 
 behind, the ducks, the geese, the pigs, and the cliildren in the yard, 
 or among the reeds by the canal bank, appeared, perhaps close hy a 
 vessel of two hundred tons or so, laid up in ordinarj\ or high and 
 dry in the farmyard, with hens roosting beside her keel. In some 
 places these craft lay in small docks having a flood-gate, with their 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 43$ 
 
 top-masts struck, their rigging and spars all dismantled, and stowed 
 away below or on deck. Most of the Dutch and Belgian farmers are 
 also shipowners ; and by means of those great and beautiful canals, 
 which like veins intersect the whole country, they bring their craft 
 to their farmyards, perhaps fifty or eighty miles inland, and there 
 keep them during the winter. They can thus the more readily load 
 or provision them with their o^vn I'arm produce, before they are 
 again sent to sea. 
 
 As Ronald was totally ignorant of Dutch, and knew very little of 
 Prench, he could neither converse with the boatmen nor the dull 
 Flemish boors who happened to be passengers ; and he passed his 
 time monotonously enough, yawTiing over a few London newspapers, 
 or Avatching every scfmi/tje sculled along by its "twenty-breeched" 
 boatmen. 
 
 In the evening he arrived at the busy and opulent, but smoky tovm. 
 of Bruges : and hence, passing the night at an hotel, and rising next 
 morning with the lark, he proceeded to Ghent, that city of bustle 
 and bridges. On landing at one of the quays, he was surprised to 
 observe a French soldier on sentry, walking briskly about before his 
 box. When passing, monsieur came smartly to " his front," and 
 presented arms. In traversing the streets, he met many French 
 officers in undress, all of whom politely touched their caps on pass- 
 ing. They all wore their swords and belts, and were to be seen 
 promenading everywhere, singly or in parties, in the streets, on the 
 bridges, on the quays, or flirting with the girls who kept the booths 
 and fancy warehouses in the great square. 
 
 At the portal of a large and handsome mansion, a British soldier of 
 the line, and a Frenchman in the uniform of the garde-du-corps, were 
 on duty together as sentinels. It was the residence of Louis XVIII., 
 who, on the landing of Buonaparte, had accepted the asylum offered 
 Mm by the King of the Netherlands, and now resided in Ghent, 
 spending his time like some plodding citizen, when he should have 
 been in the field aiding his allies, and heading the few soldiers of 
 France who still remained true to him. A British guard was 
 mounted at his residence, in addition to the garde-du-corps, and th? 
 officers dined every day at the royal table. 
 
 Of the French army, about seven hundred officers and a thousand 
 soldiers remained stanch to Louis, when the whole of their comrades 
 joined K apoleon en masse. The privates were all quartered at Alost, 
 but the officers he kept near his own person. 
 
 AT'arlike preparations were manifest everywhere around Ghent. 
 Nearly eight thousand men were employed in repairing the ancient 
 fortifications and raising new, digging ditches, mounting cannon, 
 erecting bulwarks, forts, and gates ; for rumours of the coming strife, 
 and of the invasion of Flanders by Buonaparte and his furious 
 Frenchmen, were compelling the drowsy people to lay aside their 
 phlegm, and show some courage, energy, and activity. 
 
 In the evening Eonald was roused by the ringing of the church- 
 bells, as for an alarm. A commotion and noise arose in the city, as 
 if the people of Ghent had suddenly cast off their apathy, and set 
 all their tongues to work. Above the increasing din, he heard the 
 ofiicers and soldiers of the garde-du-corps crj'ing Vive le Roi ! Vive 
 Louis ! in that true turn-coat style for which the French had become 
 80 notorious. Conceiving it to be some unlooked-for attack, he 
 
-.A TELE liOMi-NCE OF WAE. 
 
 clasped on his belt, and repaired to a neighbouring tahl^ d'hote, 
 »vhero a Trench officer informed him that the uproar ^'as caused by 
 the arrival of a courier, bearing intelligence that the entire Trench 
 army was in motion, and headed by the Emperor, — while he spoke, 
 a flush crossed his cheek, betraying the enthusiasm he could not 
 conceal, — led by their Emperor, had crossed the Sambre, and were 
 marching on Cbarleroi. 
 
 Anxious to join his regiment before hostilities began, and being 
 heartily tired of the slow and chilly mode of travelling by canal 
 barges, Stuart purchased a horse at Ghent, as no Belgian would lend 
 one" for hire. It was a poor-looking hack, and he paid for it thrice 
 its real value. Leaving his baggage to be sent after him, he set off 
 on the spur for Brussels, among whose plodding citizens the advance 
 of the Trench had stricken a terror beyond description. But two 
 alternatives were before them in case of W ellington's defeat, — flight, 
 or to remain and encounter sack and slaughter ; for well they knew 
 that Napoleon would fearfully avenge the abandonment of his 
 standard. 
 
 Eonald departed from Ghent at daybreak, and halted for breakfast 
 at Alost. He repaired to an hotel, where his uniform procured him 
 every attention, but there was consternation pre-eminently visible 
 in every Belgian face. Here he was informed that the first corps of 
 the Prussian army, posted at Cbarleroi, under the command of 
 General Zeithen, had l3een attacked, and, after a sharp contest, com- 
 pelled to retreat towards Tleurs. Notwithstanding their fears, the 
 people boasted much of the Belgian troops, and declared that, when 
 the strife was fairly begun, they would do wonders. 
 
 "Ah, why should we fear?" they repeated continually. "Lord 
 Wellington has the Belgians -with him." 
 
 Having been misdirected and sent far out of his way by one of the 
 terrified natives, it was dark before the young soldier arrived at 
 Brussels, where confusion, fear, and uproar reigned supreme. He 
 was permitted to pass the fortifications and barriers only, after a 
 great deal of troublesome altercation with the Belgic and German 
 sentries and guards, who scrupled to admit an armed man without 
 the parole. After entering, he found his poor horse in a state of the 
 utmost exhaustion. He had ridden nearly forty miles that day, and 
 stood greatly in need of refreshment himself ; but he was determined 
 to travel on without halting, and to join the regiment at all risk and 
 expense. He went straight to an hotel, and hired another horse, 
 leaving twice its value, together with the Bucephalus he had pur- 
 chased at Ghent, which was to be restored to him on his return — 
 when that should take place. 
 
 The Trench army were still pressing impetuously forward. Mar- 
 shal Ney, in comraitnd of the left, had proceeded along the road for 
 Brussels, and attacking the Prince of Saxe Weimar, drove him back 
 from Trasnes to the famous position named Zes Quatre Bras ; 
 while Napoleon, with his own immediate command, the right and 
 centre, followed the retreating Prussians towards Brie and Sombref„ 
 At half-past three on that morning (the 16th June), the British 
 had marched out of Brussels towards the enemy. Tear was impressed 
 on every heart and visible on every face after their departure. 
 
 The bells were tolling mournfully, and many persons were lament- 
 ing in the streets, as if the day of universal doom was at hand. Th^ 
 
THE EOMAA^CE OF WAR. 43S 
 
 churches were lighted for night-service when Staart entered the 
 city. From the tall Gothic windows of the church of St. Gudule, 
 vivid flakes of variously-tinted light streamed on the groups of 
 anxious and gossipping citizens, who were assembled in knots and 
 crowds in the great Sablon-square, or on the magnificent flight of 
 steps ascending to the doorway, thi'ough which streams of radiance, 
 and strains of choral music, came gushing into the streets below. 
 The beUs in the two great towers were booming away in concert with 
 others, and flinging their deep hollov/ tones to the midnight wind. 
 Business of every kind was suspended ; the shops were shut ; and. 
 the paunchy magistrates were all in the Hotel de Ville, assembled ia. 
 solemn conclave, consulting, not about the best means of defence- 
 but the best mode— to use a homely phrase — '"' of cubing their stick,'"' 
 and without beat of drum. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIV. 
 
 CAMEEON OF FASSIFEEN. 
 
 As soon as the military traveller presented himself before the 
 cathedral of St, Gudule, the lustre streaming ft-om the sixteen illu- 
 minated chapels of which filled the surrounding streets with a Hght 
 rivalling that of day, a dense crowd gathered around him, barring his 
 passage on every side, and clamorously demanding, "What news 
 from the army?" 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that he could make these terri- 
 fied cits understand that he was bound for the field, and wished to 
 know which way the British troops had marched. His only reply 
 from them was, " The French — the French are coming on !" Fear 
 had besotted them. He told them they would serve Belgium better 
 by getting arms and joining her alhes, than by thronging the streets 
 like frightened sheep. This was answered by a groan, and the feeble 
 cry of " vivat!" 
 
 Cursing them for cowards, in his impatience to get on^ he spurred 
 his horse upon the crowd, and drove them back. By their increasing 
 number, an officer of the Brunswick-Oels corps, who was riding 
 down the street at full speed, was likewise stopped ; and having a 
 little knowledge of the English language, he learned Eonald's 
 dilemma, and invited him to be his companion, as he was follo\\ing 
 the route of the army. They galloped through the Namur gate, 
 and in five minutes Brussels, with its lights and din, fear and uproar, 
 was far behind them. They were pressing at full speed along the 
 road leading to the then obscure village of "Waterloo. It wound 
 through the dark forest of Soignies ; the oak, the ash, and the elm 
 were m full foliage, and, for many miles of the way, their deep 
 shadows rendered tlie road as dreary as can be conceived. 
 
 The speed at which the travellers rode completely marred any 
 attempt at conversation, and the only sounds which broke the 
 silence were their horses' hoofs echoing in the green glades around 
 them. When at intervals the moonlight streamed between the 
 
456 THE EOM4NCE OF WAR. 
 
 clouds and the trees, Ronald turned to survey his companion, whoso 
 singular equipment added greatly to the gloomy effect produced by 
 the dark forest, which stretchea around them for many miles in 
 every direction. 
 
 The cavalry officer belonged to the Brunswick troops, who, -with 
 their duke, had made a vow to wear mourning imtil the death of 
 their late prince and leader should be avenged. His horse, his har- 
 ness, his accoutrements and uniform, were all of the deepest black, 
 and a horse-hair plume of the same sable hue floated above the plate 
 of his .'ihako, which was ornamented by a large silver skull and cross- 
 bones, similar to the badge worn by our 17th Lancers. A death's 
 head was grinning on his sabre-tache, on his holsters, his horse's 
 forehead, and breastplate, and the same grim badge looked out of 
 every button on his coat. He was rather stately in figure for a 
 German, and a tall and sombre-looking fellow, with large dark eyes, 
 lank moustaches, and a solemn visage. His tout ensemble rendered 
 him altogether as ghastly and melancholy a companion as the most 
 morbid or romantic mind could ■\^ish to ride with through a gloomy 
 wood at midnight, with strange paths and darkness behind, and a 
 battle-field in front. 
 
 After riding for about six miles in silence, a muttered eiaculation 
 from both announced their observation of a flash which illuminated 
 the sky. It was " the red artillery," and every instant other flashes 
 shot vividly athwart the firmament, like sheet lightning ; and soon 
 afterwards the sound of firing was heard, but faint and distant. It 
 was a dropping fire, and caused, probably, by some encounter of 
 stragglers or outposts. 
 
 At daybreak, on approaching the village of "Waterloo, they met a 
 horse and cart, driven along the "road at a rapid trot by a country 
 boor, clad in a leathern cap and blue frock, having his shoes and 
 garters adorned mth gigantic rosettes of yellow and red tape. His 
 car contained the bloody remains of the brave Duke of Brunswick, 
 who at four in the evening had been mortally wounded, when 
 heroically charging at the head of his cavalry in front of Les Quatre 
 Bras. The hay-cart of a Flemish clodpole was now his funeral bier. 
 The bottom was covered with the red stream, forced by the rough 
 niotion of the car from the wound, which, being in the breast, was 
 distinctly visible, and a heavy mass of coagulated blood was plastered 
 around the starred bosom and laced lapels of the uniform coat. An 
 escort of Black Brunswickers, sorrowing, sullen, and war-worn, sur- 
 rounded it with their fixed bayonets. The boor cracked his whip 
 and whistled to his horse, replacing his pipe philosophically, and 
 apparently not caring a straw whether it was the corse of a chivalric 
 prmce or a bag of Dutch turf that his conveyance contained. 
 
 Eonald reined up his horse, and touched his bonnet in salute to 
 the Brunswick escort ; but the rage and sorrow of the cavalry oflioer, 
 on beholding the lifeless body of his sovereign and leader, were such 
 as his companion never beheld before. He muttered deep oaths and 
 bitter execrations in German, and holding aloft his sabre, he swore 
 that he would revenge him or perish. At least from his actions 
 Stuart interpreted his language thus. He jerked his heavy sabre 
 into its steel scabbard, and touching his cap as a parting salute, drove 
 spurs into his horse, and, dashing along the forest pathway, disap- 
 j<eared. Ronald followed him for a httle way, but finding that' he was 
 
 i 
 
THE EOMAWCE OF WAR. 437 
 
 careenng forward like a madman, abandoned the idea of attempting 
 to overtake him. 
 
 Daylight was increasing rapidly, but he felt that dreamy and 
 drowsy sensation which is always caused by want of sleep for an 
 entire night. He endeavoured to shake off these feelings of weariness 
 and oppression, for everything around announced that he was ap- 
 proaching the arena of a deadly and terrible conflict. His heart 
 beat louder and his pulses quickened as he advanced. Dense clouds 
 of smoke, from the contest of the preceding evening, yet mingled 
 with the morning mist, overhung the position of Quatre Bras, and, 
 pressed do^vn by the heavy atmosphere, rolled over the level surface 
 of the country. At every step he found a dead or a dying man, and 
 crowds of wounded stragglers, officers, rank-and-file, on horse and 
 on foot, were pouring along in pain and misery to Brussels, bedewing 
 every part of the road with the dark crimson which trickled from 
 their undressed wounds. These were all sufferers in the fierce con- 
 test at Quatre Bras on the preceding evening. The village of Water- 
 loo was deserted by its inhabitants, for, like a pestilence, war spread 
 desolation with death in its path, and the fearful Flemings had fled, 
 scared by the roar of the distant artillery. 
 
 The wounded were unable to give any account of the engagement, 
 save that Brunswick was slain, and the British had not yet lost the 
 day. He was informed that his regiment was in the ninth brigade 
 of infantry, commanded by Major-general Sir Dennis Pack ; and 
 that he would find them, with their kilted comrades the 42nd, and 
 44th English regiment, somewhere near the farm of Les Quatre 
 Bras, bivouacked in a corn-field. 
 
 The speaker was an officer of the 1st Regiment, or Royal Scots. 
 He was severely wounded on the head and arm, and was making his 
 way to Brussels on foot, bleeding and in great agony, as his scars 
 had no other bandages than two hastily-adjusted handkerchiefs. He 
 leant for support on the arm of a soldier of the 44th, who was also 
 suffering from a wound. The Royal Scot begged of Stuart to lend 
 him a few shillings, adding that he had spent all his money at Brus- 
 sels, and would be totally destitute when he returned thither, as he 
 had not a farthing to procure even a mouthful of food. 
 
 Stuart gave him a few guineas, nearly all the loose change in his 
 purse, but rendered a greater service in lending his horse, which 
 could be of no further use to himself, as he was now close to the 
 arena of operations. The officer mounted with many thanks, and 
 promised to return the animal to the head-quarters of the High- 
 landers,— a promise which he did not live to fulfil ; and the steed 
 probably became the prey of some greedy boor of Soignies. By his 
 accent he knew the officer to be his countryman, and he looked back 
 for a short time, watching him, as his horse, led by the honest York- 
 shireman of the 41th, threaded its way among the straggling crowd 
 that covered the road. 
 
 There was an 'indescribable something in the face of this officer 
 which seemed like part of a long-forgotten dream, that some casual 
 incident may suddenly call to remembrance. He surely had never 
 seen him before, and yet his voice and features seemed like those of 
 an old friend, and he felt well pleased with himself for the attention 
 he had shown him. He inquired his name among the wounded 
 soldiers of the Royals. 
 
488 THE EOMANCE OP WAS. 
 
 " IIo's Ensign Menteilli of ours, sir," said one, saluting with the 
 only hand that war had left him. 
 
 " We've many Islenteiths," said another, who lay by the rc<id-side. 
 " Cluny is his Christian name, sir," 
 
 It was, then, his cousin, the son of Sir Colquhoun Mcnteith, that 
 he had so singularly encountered and befriended. They had not met 
 for eighteen years, since they were httle children, and now beheld 
 each other, for the last time, on the field of Waterloo. He was about 
 to turn and make himself kno^vn, but Menteith had proceeded sa 
 far, that his figure was l9st amid the crowd which accompanied him ; 
 but he hoped to meet him again, — a hoi)e which was never reahzed, 
 for ho expired by the wayside, close to the entrance of the forest of 
 Soignies. Peeling his heart saddened and softened by a thousand 
 recollections of his childhood, which this interview had awakened; 
 Ilonald turned his face towards QuatrQ Bras, taking a sohtary path 
 among some thickets, to avoid the disagreeable sights of human paiu 
 and misery Avhich he encountered on every yard of the main road. 
 
 The morning was hazy, and everywhere dense clouds of vapour 
 were curling upward from the earth, exhaled by the heat of the sun, 
 which, as the day advanced, became intense, while the air was 
 oppressive and sultry ; but a great change came over the face of 
 nature about twelve o'clock at noon. 
 
 While passing through the copsewood which bordered the highway 
 beyond the village of Waterloo, Ronald heard the wail of a bagpipe, 
 arising up from the woodlands, and wildly floating through the still 
 air of the summer morning. He stopped and listened breathlessly, 
 while the stuTed blood within him mounted to his cheek. The last 
 time he heard that instrument, it Avas awakening the echoes in the 
 woods of Toulouse. But the strain was different now. It was played 
 sadly and slowly, with all the feehng of which its wild reeds are 
 capable ; and the air was an ancient dirge from the Isle of the iMist 
 — Oran auAiog, or " the Song of Death," and Stuart's breast became 
 filled with soft melancholy, and with wonder to hear this solemn, 
 measure of the Highland isles played in such a place, and at such a 
 time. The cause was soon revealed. 
 
 On suddenly turning a point of the road, which was lined on each 
 side by thick thorns and tall poplars, he beheld .^neas or Angus 
 Macvurich, a piper of the 92nd, stalking, with the slow and stately 
 air pecuhar to his profession, before a rudely-formed waggon, in 
 which lay a wounded officer, over whom a cloak Avas cast to defend 
 him from the fierce rays of the sun. Stuart, the assistant-surgeon, 
 rode behind, and beside it c^me old Dugald Mhor Cameron, with his 
 head bare and his silver tresses floating on the wind, while he hid his 
 face in the end of the tartan plaid- A Highland soldier led by the 
 bridle the horse which drew the vehicle,— a rough country car of the 
 clumsiest construction, and a wretched jolting conveyance it must 
 have been for a man enduring the agony of a comphcated gunshot 
 wound. Anxiety and woe were depicted in every face of the advanc- 
 ing group, and the Highlander who led the horse turned round every 
 moment to look upon the sufferer in the car. 
 
 Eonald knew all the sad truth at once. On his meeting it, the 
 cavalcade halted, the lament ceased, and a mumur of greeting arose 
 from the Highlanders, — all except old Dugald, who stared at him 
 with eyes of wonder and vacancy. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 431) 
 
 It was the colonel, brave Cameron, whom they were bearing away, 
 —avS many of his ancestors had been borne, from his last battle-field 
 to his long home. He was not dead, but lay motionless on his back, 
 pale and bloody, ^ntli his sword (rolled up in a plaid for a pillow) 
 placed under his head. His eyes were closed, his cheeks were sunken, 
 and ghastly, and the thick curls of his browTi hair were dabbled with 
 blood and soiled with clay. Notwithstanding his famiharity with 
 scenes of blood, Ronald could not help shrinldng on beholding the 
 leader whom he loved so dearly, and whom so many brave men had. 
 followed, stretched thus helplessly, with the hand of the grim king 
 upon him. 
 
 " Stuart, this is a sorrowful meeting," said Ronald in a low voice, 
 as he pressed the hand of his old friend the medico. " Our good and 
 gallant colonel — " 
 
 " Aich ! ay,— the cornel— the cornel— the cornel," muttered Dugald 
 in a whimpering voice. He seemed besotted with grief. " I kent, 
 this time yesterday, that it was to happen ere the nicht fell. The lift 
 was blue, and the sun was "bricht ; but a wreath descended on my 
 auld een, and a red cloud was before me wherever I turned, — aboon 
 me when I looked up, and below me when I looked doon ; and I 
 kent that death was near my heart, for the power of the taisch was 
 upon me. Aich ! ay ! Lie you there, John Cameron ? Few there 
 were hke you, — few indeed!" And the old man bowed down his 
 wrinkled face between his bare knees, and wept bitterly. 
 
 "Poor Fassifern !" whispered the surgeon; "he will never draw 
 sword again." 
 " Is he mortally wounded ? " asked Ronald, in the same low tone. 
 "Yes. Ere noon he will have departed to a better place. But in 
 this world he has been amply avenged." 
 
 Tills was spoken in a hasty whisper. The doctor's breast was 
 too full of regret to have much room for astonishment at liis sud- 
 denly meeting his brother-officer, but he inquired from whence he 
 had now come. 
 
 " I have come on the spur from Ostend," answered Ronald, " out- 
 stripping many detachments on the march ; for I have been very 
 impatient to be with the old corps again. But this is sad news after 
 my long absence. And what of the rest of the regiment ? Have 
 there been many casualties ?" 
 
 " We have suffered severely, — lost nearly as many as at Alba de 
 Tonnes ; but I know not the exact number. Return with me a few 
 yards, and aid us in procuring a comfortable place for the colonel, 
 and I will tell you all the regimental news in time. The corps is 
 bivouacked in front of Les Quatre Bras, over yonder, and they will 
 not hkely get under arms for some hours yet. You can join, and 
 report your arrival in the course of the day." 
 
 The sound of their voices caused Cameron to open his heavy eyes, 
 and on beholding Ronald, a ray of their old fire sparkled in them. 
 He stretched out his hand, and Ronald grasped it gently, but afiec- 
 tionat-ely, Cameron attempted to speak, but his tongue failed in 
 its office, and on his hps the half-formed words died away in faint 
 mutterings. 
 
 As they entered the village of Waterloo, the surgeon related that, 
 on the preceding evening, a battahon of the enemy had taken pos- 
 session of a large two-storied house on the Charleroi road. Erom the 
 
440 THE JlOilANCE OF WAR. 
 
 windows and garden walls of this place they kept up an incessant fire 
 of musketry on the British troops in its vicinity, until Lord Wel- 
 linclon ordered Fassifern, with his Highlanders, to dislodge them 
 witn the bayonet. 
 
 After a sharp contest, the place was taken by storm ; but Cameron, 
 while leading the assault, was shot through the body by a bullet from 
 a barricaded window in the upper story, fired by a chasseur, who, 
 however, ultimately gained nothing by the exploit. The eagle eye 
 of Cameron's revengeful follower, Dugald Mhor, had marked the 
 slayer; and when the house was entered, and the garrison were 
 rushing from room to room and from passage to stair, combating for 
 death and hfe, he dragged him from amid the bristling bayonets of 
 his comrades, and twice plunged his long dirk into his bosom, sending 
 it home, till the double-edged blade protruded through his goat- 
 skin knapsack behind ; and the Highlanders were so infuriated by 
 the loss of their leader, that butt and bayonet were used freely, until 
 scarcely a man was left alive in the place. 
 
 " Nae quarter ! Remember the colonfel ! Death an' dule to every 
 man o' them ! " were cries with which they encouraged each other 
 during the conflict. 
 
 The best house in Waterloo being selected, the colonel was borne 
 into it, and placed in an apartment, which seemed to be a sort of par- 
 lour, facing the Brussels road. It Avas a snug little cottage, -with 
 walls of bright red brick, a thatched roof, and yellow door and 
 shutters, with red panels. Numerous arbours and rails of trellis- 
 work, painted green and white, encircled it ; and a forest of tall 
 hollyhocks, peonies, roses, and other large and glaring flowers, were 
 blooming about it, and glistening gaily in the meridian sun ; whilo 
 gorgeous tulips and anemones v/ere "waving in thousands from plots 
 and parterres, arrayed in all the summer glory of a Dutch garden. 
 But these were miserably trod down, as the Highlanders bore the 
 colonel up the narrow pebbled walk to the door, which being locked, 
 was opened by the rough application of a stone from the highway. 
 The inmates had fled, and the mansion was empty. 
 
 The colonel Avas 1 dd upon the floor, — there w^as not a bed in the 
 place, all the furniture having been carried ofi". His sorroAving old 
 follower knelt doAvn on his bare knees beside him, supporting his 
 head, Avhile he poured forth interjections and prayers in Gaelic. 
 
 "I can do nothing more for his wound ; it is already dressed," 
 whispered the surgeon to Eonald, who Avas eager to perform some 
 office by Avhich he might serve the invalid, or assuage some of his 
 torments ; but nothing could be done, and he was compelled to stand 
 by, an idle spectator, Avhile the brave spirit of his friend hovered 
 betAveen life and eternity. "He is sinking fast," continued the 
 doctor, in the same whispering voice. " Alas ! the regiment Aviil never 
 see his like again," 
 
 " Where is Angus IMacvurich?" asked the colonel in a low voice, 
 but a firm one, and as t'' all his energies were returning. 
 
 The piper answered hy a loud snifter, or half-stifled sob. 
 
 " Oich ! he's speakin' like himsel again. Ye'U no dee just this 
 dme, — Avill ye^no? O say ye'll no !" said old Dugald, bending over 
 aim in an agony of sorrow, and gazing on his face as a father would 
 have done. " We'U baith gang hame,— ay, gang hame thegithir yet 
 to Passifern, among the green hills of the bonnie north country. 
 Ochone ! Avoe to the day we ever left it,— Avoe !" 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 441 
 
 " No, Dugald, my ^ood, my dear old man ; I shall never behold the 
 fair Highland hills again. My hour is comCj and death is creeping 
 into my heart, slowly but surely. Oh, that I might die among my 
 kindred ! It is a sad and desolate feeling to know that one must ho 
 huried in a distant land, and unheeding strangers will tread on the 
 place of our repose. 'Tis sad to die here, and to find a grave so far 
 away from home, from the land of the long yellow broom and the 
 
 Surple heather. Tell me, gentlemen, did my Highlanders storm the 
 ouse on the Charleroi road ?" 
 
 " Ay, please your honour," said the piper, " an' sticket every man 
 they land below the riggin o't." 
 
 " Those excepted who laid down their arms," added the surgeon. 
 " But the house was gallantly stormed, colonel." 
 
 " Well done the Gael ! Well done, my good and brave soldiers ! " 
 cried the invalid. 
 
 There w^as a long pause, which nothing broke, save the loud 
 breathing of the wounded Highlander, until, in feeble accents, 
 he said, 
 
 " Come near me, Macvurich ; I would hear the blast of the pipe 
 once more ere I die. Play the ancient death-song of the Skye men ; 
 my forefathers have often heard it without shrinking." 
 
 " Or an au Aiog V said the piper, raising his drones. 
 
 The colonel moved his hand, and Macvurich began to screw the 
 pipes and sound a prelude on the reeds, whose notes, even in this 
 harsh and discordant w^ay, caused the eyes of the Highlander to 
 flash and glare, as it roused the fierce northern spirit in his bosom. 
 
 " He ordered that strange old tune to be played from the first 
 moment I declared his wound to be mortal," said the surgeon in a 
 low voice. " It is one of the saddest and wildest 1 ever heard." 
 
 " Hold me up, Dugald ; I would say something," muttered 
 Cameron. " Ah ! Stuart — I mean Ronald Stuart, — I have much to 
 say and to ask you ; but my voice fails me, and my tongue falters, — 
 and — and — " utterance failed him for a moment. " But tell me, 
 gentlemen, what news from the front ? Alas ! I should have asked that 
 before. But tell me, while I can hear your voices, — have the enemy 
 been defeated?" 
 
 " They have been driven from the position at Les Quartre Bras," 
 replied Doctor Stuart ; " our troops are everywhere victorious." 
 
 Then Cameron can die in happiness," said he firmly, as he sunk 
 back. " Oh ! I hope my dear country will think that I have served 
 her faithfully!"* 
 
 His hps quivered as if twitched by a spasm, and he muttered some 
 imaginary order to keep shoulder to shoulder, to prepare to charge ; 
 and drooping his head upon the shoulder of Dugald Mhor, he ex- 
 pired at about one o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 A cry of agony, sharp and shrill, like that of a girl rather than of 
 an old man of eighty, burst from the hps of Dugald, who bent his 
 wrinkled and sun-burnt visage over the face of the colonel until he 
 touched it ; and he wept and sobbed bitterly, uttering uncouth 
 ejaculations, and saying strange things, such as only an aged Higls- 
 lander (whose mind was filled with all the deep impressions of 
 mountain manners and past ages) would have said. 
 
 * These were his dyin^ words. In recompense for his great ser^•ices, a ba- 
 ronetcy was g:ranted to his family. In 1S15, his aged father received the title 
 of Sir Evan Cameron, Bart., of Fassifem. 
 
442 THE ROJIAKCE OF WAE. 
 
 Anon he drew himself up erect, cast his disordered plaid about his 
 tonering fi;»ure, and pazed around him with eyes in which there 
 gleamed a strange light and unsettled expression, lie seemed the 
 very beau ideal of a Gaehc seer ; and Macvurich, who imagined that 
 he beheld some dark vision of the second sight, drew back with 
 respect and awe, not unmingled with a slight degree of fear. 
 
 AVhat wild vision crossed the disordered brain of the aged vassal 
 I know not, but he tossed his arms towards it, and a torrent of blood 
 gushed forth from his mouth and nostrils ; he tottered towards the 
 corse of Cameron, and sunk on the floor beside it, a dying man. 
 llonald sprang forward and lifted him up, but he never spoke again, 
 and expired, making several ineffectual signs to Macvurich to play ; 
 but the piper was kneeling on the floor near the corse of his leader, 
 and beheld them not. 
 
 Angus Macvurich was a stern old Highlander from Brae-Mar, 
 browned with the sun of Egypt and the Peninsula. He had gained 
 .scars in Deumark, Holland, France, Spain, and Portugal. Since 
 Cameron had joined the regiment as a young ensign, they had served 
 together, and he had seen blood enough shed to harden his heart; 
 but now he was kneeling down near the dead body, covering his 
 brown face with his hands, to conceal tears, — of whicn, perhaps, he 
 felt ashamed. The memory of days long passed away — of some old 
 acts of kindness, or of his colonel's worth, were crowding thick and 
 full upon his mind, and the veteran was weeping like a girl. 
 
 Stuart was deeply moved with this scene of death and woe. Not 
 having been in the action, his heart had not been rousedj or its fibres 
 strung to that pitch of callousness or excitement requisite to enable 
 one to look coolly on such scenes. He shrouded the remains of 
 Cameron in the ample plaid of his faithful and departed follower, 
 and, after covering them decently but hastily up, he prepared to 
 retire. Yet, ere he went, he returned again to lift the tartan 
 screen, and 
 
 " To gaze once more on that commanding clay, 
 Which for the last, but not the first, time bled." 
 
 His breast became heated, .and he felt strange ^indictive longings for 
 battle and revenge, such as are seldom felt until one has been en- 
 gaged for at least half an hour. Desiring Macvurich to remain by 
 the bodies until they could be prepared for interment, he quitted the 
 cottage, and, accompanied by his namesake the surgeon, set out on 
 the way to the bivouacs of the army. 
 
 Each was occupied with his own sad reflections on the scene they 
 had just witnessed, and they walked forward for some time in 
 silence. After awhile, Stuart recapitulated his adventures and the 
 story of his disappearance, which afforded ample scope for con- 
 versation until they drew near Quatre Bras, when the miserable 
 objects they encountered at every step rendered it impossible to 
 converse longer with ease or pleasure. The whole road was covered 
 and blocked up with the unfortunate wounded travelling towards 
 Brussels, some in the waggons of the Train, hundreds on foot, and 
 liundreds crawling along the earth, covered with dust and blood, 
 dragging their miserable bodies past like crushed worms; while 
 their cries and ejaculations to God for mercy, and to man for aid 
 :\vA for water, formed a horrible medley, surpassing the power of 
 description. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WA2. 44S 
 
 C H A P T E E LY. 
 
 THE 17Tn JUNE, 1815. 
 
 " That is Quatre Bras," said the surgeon, pointing to a little 
 village close at hand. " The Highlanders are in bivouac behind it ;" 
 and, adding that his services were now required in another direction, 
 the mihtary Esculapius rode ofi', while llonald walked hastily fonvard 
 to the village. 
 
 On nearingthe spot where the regiment was in position, a strange- 
 looking little hut, composed of turf and the boughs of trees, ap- 
 parently hastily reared up by the wayside, attracted his attention. 
 Curiosity prompted him to enter this wig-wam by pushing oj^en the 
 door, which consisted of nothing more than a large oaken branch, 
 torn from the neighbouring forest. An ofQcer clad in a blue surtout, 
 white pantaloons, Hessian boots tasselled and spurred, and wearing 
 around his neck a white cravat or neckcloth, started up from the 
 examination of a large map of Flanders, over which he had been 
 bending, and raising his cocked hat, bent his keen bright eye on 
 the intruder with a stern and inquiring expression of anger and 
 .surprise. To use a Scotticism — Stuart was dnmh-foundered to find 
 that he had interrupted the cogitations and anxious deliberations of 
 Wellington. 
 
 He muttered something — ^lie knew not what — by way of apology, 
 and withdrew as abruptly as he had entered, with the unpleasant 
 consciousness that he must have looked very foolish. 
 
 On gaining the rear of the village, and approaching the High- 
 landers, he found them forming under arms, while the pipers, 
 strutting to and fro on the highway, made all Quatre Bras and the 
 Bois de Bossu ring to the "gathering of the Gordons." The 
 regiment was formed in line behind a thick garden hedge, favoured 
 by which he was enabled to advance close upon them unseen ; and 
 the astonishment of the officers and soldiers may be imagined, when, 
 by leaping over the barrier, he appeared suddenly among them. A 
 half- stifled exclamation ran along the line, and there was a pause in 
 the ceremonious formation of the parade. 
 
 The officers clustered round him, and many of the soldiers, 
 pressing in '^vith a forwardness which was easily forgiven, greeted 
 him in their " haniely Scots tongue," but -with an affection, joy, and 
 earnestness which he never forgot. Campbell, who now commanded 
 the regiment, leaped from his horse, and with his a)aple hand 
 j^rasped Stuart's so tightly as to give him some pain. One seldom 
 shakes the hand of such a Celtic giant. 
 
 " AVell, Ronald, my lad ! this is astonishing— almost beyond belief. 
 Do we look upon you, o' your wraith ?" 
 
 " Myself, major, myself I hope— sound, wind and limb," answered 
 Stuart laughing. 
 
 " I thought ^^Taiths were not in fashion, in this flat country at 
 least. Faith ! this has quite the air of a romance, with the accom- 
 j^animents of astonishment, mystery, and all that sort of thing. 
 Did you come down from the clou'Is ? or spring out of the earth like 
 a Shetland dwarf? " 
 
444 THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 " Queer modes, both, of joinin;^ a regiment. No, major; I jast 
 leaped the hedge, unroraantically enough. But, how d'ye do, 
 Chisholm ? How are you, Macildhui ? Ah ! Douglas, my boy ! 
 and Lisle ! Dear Louis, how much I have to ask and to tell ! 
 Your hand." 
 
 And thus he greeted them all in succession, from the pot-bellied 
 field-officer to the slender ensign, raw from the college or niursery. 
 A truly national shaking of hands ensued, and such, I may safely 
 assert, as Quatre Bras had never witnessed before. Then came the 
 hght company, with their humble but hearty wishes of joy ; and the 
 whole regiment, giving martial discipline to the mnds, cheered and 
 waved their bonnets, while the pipers blew as if their lives depended 
 on it until Welhngton, confounded by the uproar which had so 
 suddenly broken forth in his immediate vicinity, was seen looking 
 from his mgwam in no pleasant mood ; but not even the appearance 
 of that portentous toliite cravat, — the glories of Avhich are still sung 
 by the Spanish muleteer, the Flemish boatman, and the Portuguese 
 gipsy, — could still the clamour. 
 
 Although Eonald's letters written from London had informed his 
 military friends of his existence and safe arrival in England, they 
 were by no means prepared for his sudden appearance among them 
 in Flanders, and he had to endure a thick cross-tire of questions and 
 eager inquiries, which at that moment there was not time to answer; 
 but he promised the rehearsal of his story at full length on the first 
 opportunity, and for the present considerably repressed their joy by 
 announcing the death of Cameron, and of his follower, poor old 
 Dugald, who had been a man of no small dignity and importance 
 among those who filled the ranks of the Gordon Highlanders. 
 
 The troops had been ordered to fall back upon the position of 
 Waterloo, which was next day to be the scene of that " king-making 
 victory," — the most important ever fought and won in Europe, and 
 one which has fixed for ever the fame of the great duke and the 
 British army. 
 
 When the bustle created by his arrival had a little subsided, 
 Eonald requested a few words apart with Louis ; but before he could 
 speak, the voice of Campbell was heard in command. 
 
 " Fall in, gentlemen ; fall in !" 
 
 " Alice ?" whispered Stuart. 
 
 " She is well and happy, Eonald ; and never once has her love 
 wandered from you" said Louis, pressing his hand. 
 
 The bugle sounded, and they separated to join their respective 
 companies ; and next moment the adjutant was flying along the hue 
 at full gallop, to collect the reports. Then riding up to Campbell, 
 he lowered the point of his sword, and, acquainting him \nih. the 
 casualties, returned to his post in the hue, while the regiment broke 
 into open column of sections, mth the right in front; and the 
 pioneers, -with their saws, axes, &c., and their leather aprons strapped 
 to their bare knees, went off double-quick in advance. " Quick 
 march !" was now the order repeated by a hundred commanding 
 officers, varying in cadence and distance. The trumpet brayed, the 
 cymbal clashed, the drum rebounded, the war-pipe yelled forth its 
 notes of defiance and pride, and the whole army was in motion en 
 route for Waterloo. 
 
 By the suddenness of the order to " fall in," Stuart lost an oppor- 
 tunity (which never again occurred) of learning from Louis,— that 
 
THE EOIIANCE OF WAR. 445 
 
 of which he was still ignorant,— the wreck of his father's aflfairs, and 
 his emigration to a strange country. 
 
 Gloom and doubt were apparent in the faces of both officers and 
 privates, as the army began its march to the rear, upon "Waterloo, 
 Anything like retreating is so unusual to British troops, that a chill 
 seemed to have fallen on every heart as tney moved from Quatre 
 Bras, before which the third and fifth divisions were left to cover the 
 rear, — or at least to deceive Napoleon, by remaining in sight till the 
 artillery and the main body of the army were far on the Waterloo 
 road. As Lord Wellington had foreseen, Napoleon was long kept in 
 ignorance of our retreat by this measure ; but as soon as he per- 
 ceived it, he despatched immense bodies of cavalry to press and 
 harass the rear-guard. On looking back just before the Bois de 
 Soignies began to throw its foliage over the line of march, Stuart 
 saw several dashing charges made by the British heavy dragoons, 
 who rode right through and through the massive columns of the 
 enemy, breaking their order, sabring them in hundreds, and com- 
 pelling the rest to recoil, and repress the fierce feeling of triumph 
 with which they beheld the British army retreating before them. 
 Scarcely a shot was fired, as the carbines and pistols were rarely re- 
 sorted to. Their conflicts were all maintained with the sword, and 
 some thousand blades were seen flashing at once in the light of the 
 sun, as they were whirled aloft like gleams of lightning, and de- 
 scended like flashes of fire on the polished helmets of the French, 
 and on the tall and varied caps of the British cavalry. 
 
 During the greater part of this march, Eonald moved with a 
 group of the officers about him, Ustening to that which he was 
 heartily tired of relating, — " a full, true, and particular history " of 
 his detention among the Spaniards, his release, and his restoration to 
 the regiment. The men of the neighbouring sections, who were all 
 listening attentively with eager ears, circulated the story through^the 
 ranks with various additions and alterations, to suit that taste for the 
 marvellous and wonderful which exists so much among soldiers — 
 Highlanders especially ; so that by the time it had travelled along 
 the Une of march, from the mouths of the light company to the 
 grenadiers at the head of the column, Honald's narrative might have 
 vied with that true history, the " Life of Prince Arthur," " Jack 
 the Giant Queller," or any other hero of ancient times. 
 
 " Well, Stuart, my man ! " said Campbell, riding up to Eonald ; 
 " I am happy to see you again at the head of the hght bobs." 
 
 "I thank you, major; but truly none can rejoice more than 
 myself^" answered Ronald. " Faith ! a century seems to have elapsed 
 since I saw the old colours with the silver thistles and the sphinxes, 
 — your favourite badge, major, waving above the blue bonnets. 
 There was a time, when I thought never to have beheld them 
 again." 
 
 " When you so narrowly escaped hanging by those rascally thieves, 
 I suppose ? Don Alvaro gave you ample reparation, as far as he 
 could do, by drawing fifty human necks, like the thraws of so many 
 muir-hens. A fine fellow, that Alvaro ! only rather lank and sombre 
 in visage. Faith ! I shall never forget the supper his pretty sister 
 gave us the first night we halted at Merida. Every dish had garlic^ 
 olive oil, and onions in it ! " 
 
 " Hooch, deevils and warlocks ! " said Serjeant Macrone, grasping 
 the truncheon of his pike. " Och ! had I peen there peside you, sir, 
 
 n. 2 Q 
 
446 THE EOMANCE OF "WAB. 
 
 ■whan thae reiver loons spake o a tow to you, many a sair croon wsfd 
 hae peeu among tbem ! '' 
 
 " I'm much obliged to you, Macrone ; but, with a dozen of our 
 blue bonnets, I would soon have made a clear house of them." 
 
 " Oich ! " continued the serjeant, growing eloquent in his indigna- 
 tion, "it wad hae peen a fera tammed unpleasant thing topehanget, 
 especially an oflicer and shentleman. But wad the reivers no hae 
 shot yer honour, kindly and discreetly, just if ye had asked them as 
 a favour, ye ken ? " 
 
 " I never thought of that, Macrone," replied Eonaid, laughing 
 heartily ; " both modes were equally unpleasant, though not equally 
 honourable." 
 
 " Poor Cameron ! and so we have lost him at last," observea 
 Campbell, in a half-musing tone, while his eyes glistened. " I often 
 look at the head of the column, and half imagine I see him riding 
 along there, on his tall black horse, as of old ; his figure erect and 
 stately, and his long feathers drooping down on his right shoulder. 
 Many a day I have watched him with pleasure, as he led the line of 
 march over the long plains of Spain, when we have been moving 
 from sunrise to sunset, on the tall spire of some distant city, I shall 
 obtain the command, but He who reads the human heart knows' 
 that I would rather have remained always major, that Cameron 
 might have lived, 
 
 '" Brave Fassifem ! we were always proud of him, but more so 
 now than ever," said Stuart, and his eyes ghttered with enthusiasm 
 while he spoke. " 'Tis but two hours since I beheld him expire in. 
 "Waterloo yonder." 
 
 " That d— ned old house near Quatre Bras ! " exclaimed Campbell ; 
 " I am sorry we left one stone of it standing on another. Poor 
 Passifern fell at the head of the grenadiers, while assaulting it in 
 ftont, I carried it in rear, beating down the back door with my own 
 hand, and scarcely a man was left alive in it. Our men fought like 
 furies after the colonel fell. Ay," he continued, emphatically, " John 
 Cameron was a true Highland gentleman, and possessed the heart of 
 a hero." 
 
 " Oich ! " muttered Macrone, " he was a pretty man, and a prave 
 man, and nefer flinched in ta front o' the enemy." 
 
 " And never did one of his name, Duncan," whispered a comrade, 
 in GaeUc. " I myself am a Cameron — " 
 
 " Ha, major ! what is that ? " asked Eonaid, as something like a 
 distant discharge of artillery sounded through the hot and still atmo- 
 sphere. " Can the Prussians be at it again ? " 
 
 " We shall hear no more of the Prussians, after what befel them 
 at Ligny yesterday. *Tis said that they have lost twenty thousand men ; 
 and old Blucher himself narrowly escaped being trodden to death by 
 the Prench cavalry charging over him, as he lay unhorsed and 
 ■wounded on the ground. They repassed him in retreat, but the old 
 fox lay close. There is the sound again ! " 
 
 " What the devil can it be ? " said an officer. 
 
 " The Prench flying artillery must have come up with our rear 
 guard." 
 
 " No, no, Eonaid ; look at the sky, man ! "We shall have a tre- 
 mendous storm in live minutes," 
 
 While he spoke, the sky, which had been bright and sunny, 
 , "became suddenly darkened by masses of murky clouds the flying 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 447 
 
 ehadows of which were seen moving over the wide corn-fields and 
 green woodlands. Scudding and gathering, these gloomy precursors 
 of a storm came hurrjdng across the skj-, until they closed over every 
 part of it, obscuring the face -of heaven, and rendering the earth 
 dark as when ^dewed by the grey light of a winter day at three o'clock, 
 and the spirits of the retreating soldiers became more saddened and 
 depressed as the black shadows of the forest of Soignies deepened 
 around them. Eed, blue, and yellow^ streaks of lightning, vivid and 
 hot, Hashed across the whole sky, lighting it up like a fiery dome 
 from the eastern to the western horizon, and the stunning peals of 
 thunder roared every instant as if to rend the world asunder. Rain 
 and hail descended in torrents, while the tempests of wind, which 
 arose in angry gusts, tore through the forest of Soignies like the 
 spirit of destruction, scattering leaves, branches, trees, and the 
 affrighted birds in every direction. Oh ! the miseries of the 17th of 
 June ! The oldest soldiers in the army declared that the storm of 
 that day surpassed anything they had ever suffered or beheld. 
 
 The whole army, from the front to the rear-guard, were drenched 
 to the skin. The roads, in some places, were flooded with wa.ter, till 
 they looked like winding canals^ with their surface broken into 
 countless wrinkles by the splashing rain ; in other places the mud 
 was so deep, that the soldiers, loaded with their heavy accoutrements, 
 sank above the ankles at every step, and the weight of the thick clay 
 which adhered to their feet, added greatly to their misery. Hundreds 
 of those in the Highland regiments lost their shoes on withdrawing 
 their feet from the soil, and as no time was given to take others from 
 their knapsacks, if they had any there, they were obliged to tread out 
 the rest of the march in their red-striped hose. Many of the officers 
 wore their thin-soled dress boots, their white kid gloves, &c., having 
 been suddenly summoned to the field from the gaiety of the ball at 
 Brussels, and some were almost barefooted before the order was 
 given to halt. Their boots, of Prench kid, wore away like brown 
 paper in the mud and rain. 
 
 Without tents or any covering, save their great-coats or cloaks, the 
 troops passed the miserable night of the lyth June in bivouac. 
 exposed, unsheltered, to all the fury of the storm, which lasted until 
 eight o'clock next morning. Por nearly four-and-twenty hours the 
 wind had blown and the rain fallen without intermission. 
 
 Though their spirits were considerably depressed, the officers and 
 their soldiers bore all with that perfect patience and endurance, 
 which the British army possesses in a greater degree than any other 
 in Europe. They can bear stoically alike the fury of the elements 
 and the exasperating insults of a petulant mob. 
 
 Not a murmur of discontent was heard that night in the British 
 bivouac ; no man repined, as the utmost confidence and rehanoe 
 were placed in the great leader, under whom, on the morrow, they 
 were to engage in such a struggle as the world has rarely witnessed. 
 
 2a 2 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 C H A P T E E LVI. 
 
 THE 18th of JUNE, 
 
 About eight o'clock on the morning of the 13lh the stonn suddenlj' 
 ahated, the rain ceased, the wind died away, the grey clouds begaii 
 to disperse, and the sun broke forth in his glory. His warm glow 
 was dehghtful after the chill of such a tempestuous night ; and the 
 wan faces of the soldiers brightened as they watched the dispersion 
 of the vapoury masses, and beheld the morning sky assuming a pure 
 and serene blue. Alas ! it was a morning sun which thousands 
 were doomed never to behold setting at eve. 
 
 Immense masses of white mist were rising on all sides, — from the 
 green woodlands of the Bois de Soignies,— from the sWamps, the 
 fields, and the puddles formed in the night; and as the vapour 
 became exhaled, and floated away to mingle with the clouds, the 
 grass grew more green, and the fields of flattened corn rose, and 
 waved their yellow harvest to and fro in the morning breeze. Fires 
 were lighted by the soldiers, to dry their clothes and cook a ration 
 of beef, which had been hastily supplied to some corps of the army. 
 An allowance of grog was also served out by the commissariat to 
 every man, without distinction. It was swallowed gladly and thank- 
 fully, and the former cheerfulness of the troops began to revive, and 
 they became as merry as men could be who had marched so far, 
 passed such anight, and had yet their shirts sticking to their backs. 
 
 This was the morning of the eventful 18th of June, 1815. 
 
 Sir Dennis Pack's brigade had scarcely finished their wretched 
 meal of beef, broiled on bayonets and ramrods amid the smoky 
 embers of green wood, before the pipers of the Eoyal Highlanders, 
 who were bivouacked on the right, were heard bloAving their regi- 
 mental gathering with might and main, summoning the old Black 
 Watch to battle. 
 
 " Stand to your arms ! The enemy are coming on ! " was the cry 
 on every side ; and aides-de-camp, majors of brigade, and other 
 officers were seen galloping in every direction, clearing hedge and 
 wall at the risk of their necks. The trumpets of the cavalry, the 
 drums and bugles of the infantry, were soon heard sounding in 
 concert over every part of the position, as the army got under arms 
 to meet their old hereditary foe. 
 
 " Vive VEmpereur!" A hundred thousand soldiers, — brave men 
 as Prance ever sent forth, loaded the morning wind with the cry : 
 and the hum of their voices, sounding from afar over the level 
 country, was heard — like the low roar of a distant sea — murmuring 
 and chafing, long before they came within range of musket-shot. 
 
 The soldiers of the allied army stood to their arms with their 
 usual willingness and alacrity, but with that degree of gravity and 
 calmness wmch always pervades a body ofmen before an engagement. 
 It is a serious reflection that one may be in eternity in five minutes, 
 and one feels rather sedate in consequence,— till the blood is up, and 
 the true British mettle fairly roused. A battle was about to be 
 fought and that it would be a bloody one was evident, for it was 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 449" 
 
 between two splendid armies, equal in arms, m discipline, and in 
 sourage, and led by two of the greatest generals the world ever pro- 
 duced. But it is not my intention to recount a history of the battle 
 of Waterloo. Generallj", I will confine myself to the motions of 
 the 9th brigade, commanded by the brave Sir Dennis Pack. 
 
 It consisted of four regiments, — namely, the third battalion of the 
 1st Eoyal Scots, the 42nd or Eoyal Highlanders, the second battalion 
 'of the 4^1th or East Essex regiment, and the 92nd or Gordon High- 
 landers, \nth whom, I trust, the reader is tolerably well acquainted. 
 The fighting at Quatre Bras on the 16th had considerably thinned 
 their ranks, but they yet mustered five hundred bayonets. 
 
 Aides-de-camp, general and other staflf-ofiicers, were seen galloping 
 on the spur over banks and ditches, through copse-wood and corn- 
 fields, bearing orders, instructions, and hasty despatches to those 
 commanding corps and brigades ; the cavalry looked to their girths 
 and bridles, the infantry to their locks and pouches ; the artillery- 
 guns, tumbrils, and caissons were dragged at full gallop among ripe 
 fields of wheat and barley, tlu*ough hedges and slough ditches, with 
 matches smoking, the gunners on the boxes, the drivers on the 
 saddle, rammers and sponges rattling and clanking, and the cavalry 
 escort galloping in front and rear. Bustle and noise, but with 
 perfect steadiness and coolness, prevailed, as the army of Lord 
 W ellington formed in position on that memorable field, and awaited 
 the approach of their enemy, who came on flushed with the success 
 of the recent battle of Ligny. 
 
 " There goes Buonaparte ! " cried Eonald to his friend Louis Lisle, 
 who at that moment came up to him. 
 
 "There goes Napoleon! the Emperor and all his staff!" burst 
 from many a tongue. 
 
 The whole attention of the British line w'as attracted by the 
 appearance of Buonaparte, who rode along the ridge occupied by the 
 Erench army. He wore his great- coat unbuttoned, and thrown back 
 to display his epaulets and green uniform, and had on his head the 
 little cocked hat by which all statues of him are so well knoA^Ti. A 
 staff, brilliant and numerous, composed of officers wearing a hundred 
 different uniforms, followed him, but at the distance of seventy 'or 
 eighty paces, riding like a confused mob of cavalry. He passed 
 rapidly along the French Une towards La Belle Alliance ; but the 
 fire of a few twelve-pound field-pieces, which had been brought to 
 bear upon his person, compelled nim to retire to the rear. 
 
 The right of the allied army rested on Braine la Leude, the left 
 on the farm of Ter la Haye, and the centre on Mont St. Jean, thus 
 extending along a ridge from which the ground descended gently to a 
 sort of vale ; on the other side of which, at the distance of about twelve 
 hundred yards from the allies, the long-extended hues of the French 
 army were formed in battle array, Avith eagles glittering, colours 
 waving, and bayonets gleaming above the dark battalions of infantry. 
 
 The celebrated cha,teau of Hougoumont was in front of the right 
 centre of the alhes ; the woods, the orchard, and the house were full 
 of trooi)s. Arms glanced at every window, bayonets bristled every- 
 where around it, and the tall grenadier-caps of the Coldstream 
 Guards, and the shakoes of the Belgians and Brunswickers, were 
 ■nsible above the green hedges of the garden, and the parapet walls 
 which enclosed the park and orchard. The farm-house of La Haya 
 
450 THE EOMANCE OP WAE. 
 
 Sainte, on the Charleroi road At the foot of the eminence, had also 
 been converted into a garrison, loop-holed and barricaded, with 
 brass-muzzled field-pieces peeping through the honeysuckle and the 
 rails of the garden around it. 
 
 All around the spot where these dire preparations had been made, 
 the land was in a beautiful state of cultivation, and the bright yellow 
 corn waved ripe in every field ; but the passage of cavalry, brigades 
 of artillery, and sometimes dense masses of infantry in close column 
 of companies or sub-divisions of five-and-twenty men abreast, the 
 continual deploying on point and pivot as new alignements were 
 taken up, made sad havoc among the hopes of the husbandman and 
 farmer. 
 
 The Belgian and Hanoverian battahons were checkered as equally 
 as possible with the British, and thus many difierent uniforms varied 
 the long perspective of the alhed line ; while the JFrench army pre- 
 sented one long array of dark uniforms, — blue, green, or the grey 
 great-coat, an upper garment worn almost invariably, in all weathers, 
 by the French troops when on service. 
 
 Near a tree, which grew on a bank above the Charleroi road, and 
 which forrned!, or denoted, the very centre of the British position. 
 Lord "Wellington could be seen sitting motionless on horseback, ob- 
 serving, with his acute and practised eye, the motions of his mighty 
 antagonist. His cavalry were, generally, posted in rear of the right, 
 the centre, and left of the position, the artillery behind a hedge 
 on a ridge which rises near Ter I' Haye ; and this screen of foliage 
 concealed them from the enemy, *rho commenced the battle about 
 half-past eleven o'clock. 
 
 A niovement was seen taking place among the French, and in a 
 few minutes the division commanded by Jerome Bonaparte attacked 
 the chateau of Hougoumont. As they advanced upon it, Lord "Wel- 
 lington's artillery opened on them, and did considerable execution ; 
 but they pressed heedlessly on and assaulted the ancient cha,teau, 
 which was resolutely defended, and soon became shrouded in a cloud 
 of smoke as the volleying musketry blazed away from hedge and 
 wdl, barricade and window. Every bullet bore the fate of » human, 
 being; the French were strewed in heaps, and the chateau, into 
 which they showered grape and musketry with unsparing dihgence, 
 seemed not hkely to surrender soon. The foreign troops gave way, 
 but the brave Guards maintained the defence of the house and 
 
 farden alone, and with the unflinching determination and courage of 
 Iritish soldiers. 
 
 Under cover of a formidable cannonade, which iSTapoleon's artil- 
 lery opened from the crest of the ridge where his line was formed, 
 three dense masses of infantry, consisting each of four battahons, 
 moving in sohd squares, poured impetuously down on the left and 
 centre of the alHed hne. They rent the air vnth cries of " Vive^ la 
 France ! Vive VEmperev.r !" and on they came double-quick, with 
 their sloped arms ghttering in the sun. They were enthusiastically 
 encouraged by their officers, whose voices were heard above even the 
 mingled dio of the battle-cry, cheering them on as they waved their 
 eagles and brandished their sabres aloft. One of these columns 
 poured its strength on La Haye Sainte, where it experienced a warm 
 and deadly welcome ; wMle the other two attacked that part of the 
 jposition which was occupied by Sir Dennis Pack's brigade. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 451 
 
 As they advanced, Campbell made a signal with his sword, and the 
 eight pipes of the regunent commenced the wild pibroch of Donald- 
 dhu, — the march of the Islesmen to Lochaber m 1431. It was echoed 
 back by the pipes of the Royals and 42nd on the right, and the well- 
 known eftect of that instrument was instantly visible in the flushing 
 cheeks of the brigade. Its music never falls in vain on the ear of a 
 Scotsman, for he alone can understand its wild melody and stirring 
 associations. The ranks, which before had exhibited all that stillness 
 and gravity which troops always observe — in fact, which their feel- 
 ings compel them to observe — before being engaged, for fighting is a 
 serious matter, became animated, and the soldiers began to cheer 
 and handle their muskets long before the order was given to fire. A 
 brigade of Belgians, formed in line before a hedge, was attacked 
 furiously by the French columns, who were eager for vengeance on 
 these troops, whom they considered as deserters from the cause of 
 the " great Emperor," whose uniform they still vrore. The impe- 
 tuosity of the attack compelled the Belgians to retire in rear of the 
 hedge, over which they received and returned a spirited fire. 
 
 Pack's brigade now opened upon the foe, and the roar of cannon 
 and musketry increased on every side as the battle became general 
 along the extended parallel lines of the British and French. The 
 fire of the latter on rack's brigade v.as hot and rapid, for in nume- 
 rical force they outnumbered them, many to one, and made dreadful 
 havoc. The men were falhng— to use the common phrase — in heaps, 
 and the danger, smoke, uproar, and slaughter, with all the terrible 
 concomitants of a great battle, increased on every side ; the blood of 
 the combatants grew hotter, and their national feelings of hatred 
 and hostihty, which previously had lain dormant, were now fully 
 awakened, and increased apace with the slaughter around them. 
 Many of the Highlanders seemed animated by a perfect fury, — a 
 terrible eagerness to grapple with their antagonists. Captain Grant, 
 an officer of the Gordon Highlanders, became so much excited, that 
 he quitted the ranks, and rushing to the front, brandished his long 
 broad sword aloft, and defied the enemy to charge or approach further. 
 Then, calling upon the regiment to follow him, he threw up his 
 bonnet, and flinging himself headlong on the bayonets of the enemy 
 was instantly slain. Poor fellow ! he left a young wife at home to 
 lament him, and his loss was much regretted by the regiment. 
 
 " This is hot work, Chisholm," said Eonald with a grim smile to 
 his smart young sub, who came towards him jerking his head about 
 in that nervous manner which the eternal whistUng of musket-shot 
 will cause many a brave fellow to assume. 
 
 " Hot work,— devilish !" answered the other with a blunt careless- 
 ness, which, perhaps, was half afiected. " But I have something 
 good to communicate." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Blucher, with forty thousand Prussians, is advancing from 
 Wavre. Bony knows nothing of this, and the first news he hears of 
 it will be the twelve-pounders of the Prussians administering a dose 
 of cold iron to his left flank, upon the extremity of the ridge yonder.'* 
 
 " Good : but is the intelligence true ? " 
 
 " Ay, true as the Gospel. I heard an aide-de-camp, a rather ex- 
 cited but exquisite young fellow of the 7th Hussars, tell old Sir 
 Dennis so this moment." 
 
452 THE EOMANCE OP WAB. 
 
 " Would to God we saw them ! — the Prussians I mean. We are 
 suffering dreadfully from the fire of these columns." 
 
 Ay, faith !" replied the other, coolly adjusting his bonnet, which 
 a ball had knocked awry, and turning towards the left flank of the 
 company, before he had gone three paces, he was stretched pTostrate 
 on the turf. 
 
 He never stirred again. A ball had pierced his heart ; and the 
 bonnet^ which a moment before he had arranged so jauntily over his 
 fair hau", rolled to the feet of Bonald Stuart. 
 
 " I kent he was/ey / Puir young gentleman !" said a soldier. 
 
 " I Mill add a stone to his cairn," observed another, figuratively ; 
 ** and give this to revenge him," he added, dropping upon his knee 
 and firing among the smoke of the opposite line. 
 
 Stuart would have examined the body of his friend, to find if any 
 spark of life yet lingered in it, but his attention was attracted by 
 other matters. 
 
 The Belgians at the hedge gave way, after receiving and returning 
 a most destructive fire for nearly an hour. The 3rd battahon of the 
 Scots Eoyals, and a battalion of the 44th (the same regiment which 
 lately distinguished itself at Cabul), took up the ground of the van- 
 quished men of Gallia Belgiea, and after maintaining the same 
 conflict against an overwhelming majority of numbers, and keeping 
 stanch to their post till the unlucky hedge was piled breast-high 
 with killed and wounded, they were compelled also to retire, leaving 
 it in possession of the enemy, who seized upon it with a fierce shout 
 of triumph, as if it had been the fallen capital of a conquered 
 country, instead of the rural boundary of a field of rye. 
 
 It was now three o'clock in the afternoon. The strife had lasted 
 incessantly for four hours, and no word was yet heard of the Prus- 
 sians. For miles around the plains were involved in smoke ; and 
 whether they were approaching or not no man knew, for a thick 
 war-cloud enshrouded the vale of Waterloo. Three thousand of the 
 allies had been put to the rout, and the dense mob-like columns of 
 the enemy came rolling on from the ridge opposite to Lord Welling- 
 ton's position, apparently with the determination of bearing all 
 before them. 
 
 When they gained possession of the hedge before mentioned. Sir 
 Dennis Pack, who had been with its defenders till the moment they 
 gave way, galloped at full speed up to the Qordon Highlanders, — a 
 corps reduced now to a mere skeleton, and barely mustering two 
 hundred efi&cient bayonets. 
 
 " Highlanders ! " cried the general, who was evidently labouring 
 under no ordinary degree of excitement and anxiety, " you must 
 charge ! Upon them with the bayonet, or the heights are lost, for 
 all the troops in your front have given way !" 
 
 " Highlandmen ! shoulder to shoulder," cried Campbell, as the 
 regiment began to advance with their muskets at the long trail, and 
 in silence, with clenched teeth and bent brows, for their hearts were 
 burning to avenge the fall of their comrades. Shoulder to shoulder, 
 lads ! close together, hke a wall ! " continued the major, as, spurring 
 his horse to the front, he waved his sword and bonnet aloft, and the 
 corps moved down the lull. " Eemember Egypt and Corunna, — and 
 remember Cameron, though he's gone, for his eye may be upon us 
 yet at this very moment ! Porward — double quick !" 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 453 
 
 The column they were about to charge presented a front more 
 than equal to their own on four faces, and formed a dense mass of 
 three thousand infantry. Heedless of their numbers, mth that free 
 and fearless impetuosity which they have ever displayed, and which 
 has aluays been attended with the most signal success, the bonneted 
 clansmen rushed on with the fury of a torrent from their native 
 hills, equally regardless of the charged bayonets of the French front 
 ranks, the murderous fire of the rear, and of ten pieces of cannon 
 sent by Napoleon to assist in gaining the height occupied by Pack's 
 shattered brigade. 
 
 It was a desperate crisis, and the regiment knew that they must 
 be victorious or be annihilated. 
 
 A body of cuirassiers were coming on to the assistance of the vast 
 mass of infantry, — all splendid troops, glittering in a panoply of brass 
 and steel ; and the slanting rays of the sun gleamed beautifully on 
 their long lines of pohshed helms and corslets, and the forest of 
 swords which they brandished aloft above the curls of the eddying 
 smoke, as they came sweeping over the level plain at full gallop. 
 The advance of the little band of Highlanders made them seem like 
 a few mice attacking a lion, — ^the very acme of madness or of courage. 
 Their comrades were all defeated, themselves were threatened by 
 cavalry, galled by ten pieces of cannon, and opposed to three thou- 
 sand infantry ; and yet they went on Avith the heedless impetuosity 
 of the heroes of Killiecranlae, Falkirk, and Gladsmuir. 
 
 The front rank of the enemy's column remained with their long 
 muskets and bayonets at the charge, while the rear kept up a hot and 
 destructive fire, in unison with the sweeping discharges from the 
 field-pieces placed at a little distance on their flanks. 
 
 The moment was indeed a critical one to these two hundred eagle 
 hearts. They were in the proportion of one man to fifteen ; and 
 notwithstanchng this overwhelming majority, when the steady hne 
 of the Highlanders came rushing on, with their bayonets levelled 
 before them, and had reached within a few yards of the enemy, the 
 latter turned and fled ! The huge mass, which might with ease have 
 eaten them, broke away in a confusion almost laughable, the front 
 ranks overthrowing the rear, and every man tossing away musket, 
 knapsack, and accoutrements. The Highlanders still continued 
 pressing forward ^vith the charged bayonet, yet totally unable to 
 comprehend what had stricken the foe with so disgraceful a panic. 
 
 " Halt ! " cried Campbell. " Fire on the cowards. D — n them, 
 give them a volley ! " and a hasty fire was poured upon the confused 
 moh. 
 
 A cry arose of " Here come the cavalry ! " 
 
 " Hoigh ! hurrah ! " cried the Highlanders. " The Greys — the 
 Greys — the Scots Greys ! Hoigh ! our ain folk — hurrah ! " And a 
 tremendous cheer burst from the little band as they beheld, emerg- 
 ing from the wreaths of smoke, the squadrons of their countrymen, 
 who came thundering over the corse- strewed field, where djums, 
 colours, arms, cannon, and cannon-shot, killed and wounded men, 
 covered every foot of ground. 
 
 The grey horses — " those beautiful grey horses," as the anxious 
 Napoleon called them, while watching this movement through his 
 glass — came on, snorting and prancing, with dilated nostrils and eyes 
 of fire, exhibiting all the pride of our superb dragoon chargers. 
 
454 THE KOilAyCE OF WAE. 
 
 while the long broad-swords and tall bear-skiu caps of the riders 
 were seen towering above the battle-clouds which rolled along the 
 surface of the plain. 
 
 They formed part of the heavy brigade of the gallant Sir "William 
 Ponsonby, who, sabre in hand, led them on, \rith the First Royal 
 English Dragoons, and the Sixth, who came roaring tremendously, 
 and shouting strange things in the deep brogue of merry "ould 
 Ireland." 
 
 From the weight of the men, the mettle of their horses, and their 
 fme equipment, a charge of British cavalry is a splendid sight : I say 
 British, for our own are the finest-looking as well as the best troops 
 in the world. — an assertion which few can dispute when we speak of 
 Waterloo. Those who witnessed the charge of Ponsonby's brigade? 
 will never forget it. The Highlanders halted, and the dragoons 
 swept on past their flank, towards the confused masses of the enemy. 
 The Greys, on passing the httle band of their countrymen, sent up 
 the well-known cry of " Scotland for ever ! " 
 
 " Scotland for ever ! " At such a moment, this was indeed a cry 
 that roused " the stirring memory of a thousand years." It touched 
 a chord in every Scottish heart. It seemed like a voice from their 
 home — from the tongues of those they had kfi behind, and served to 
 stimulate them to fresh exertions in honour of the land of the rock 
 and the eagle, 
 
 " Cheer, my blue-bonnets ! " cried Campbell, leaping in his saddle 
 in perfect ecstasy. " Oh ! the gallant fellows ! how bravely they ride, 
 God and victory be with them this day ! " 
 
 " Scotland for ever I" echoed the Highlanders, as they waved their 
 black plumage on the gale. The Eoyals, the 42nd, the Cameron 
 Highlanders, and every Scots regiment within hearing, took up the 
 battle-cry and tossed it to the wind ; and even the feeble voices of 
 the wounded were added to the general shout, while the cliivalrous 
 Greys plunged into the column of the enemy, sabring them in scores, 
 and riding them down hke a field of corn. The cries of the panic- 
 stricken French were appalling ; they were like the last despairing 
 shrieks of drowning men, rather than the clamour of men-at-arms 
 upon a battle-field. Colours, drums, arms, and everything, were 
 abandoned in their eagerness to escape, and even while retreating 
 double quick, some failed not to shout Jive rJSmpereur ! Vive la 
 Oloire ! as vociferously as if they had been the victors instead of 
 the vanquished. 
 
 An unlucky random shot struck Lisle's left arm, and fractured the 
 bone just above the elbow. He uttered a sudden cry of anguish, 
 and reeled backward several paces, but propped himself upon his 
 gword. Eonald Stuart rushed towards him, but almost at the same 
 snoment a half-spent cannon-shot (one of the last fired by the train 
 sent to dislodge the ninth brigade) struck him on the left side, 
 doubled him up like a cloak, and dashed him to the earth, where he 
 lay totally deprived of sense and motion. When struck, a conscious- 
 ness flashed upon his mind that liis ribs were broken to pieces, and 
 that he was dying ; then the darkness of night seemed to descend oa 
 Ms eyes, and he felt as if his soul was passing away from his body. 
 That feehng, which seemed the reverse of a terrible one, existed for 
 a space of time scarcely divisible. There was a rushing sound in his 
 ears, flashes of red fire seemed to go out from his eyes, and then 
 
THE EOilANCE OF WAB. 455- 
 
 every sensation of life left him for a time. The re^ment thought 
 nim dead, as few escape a knock from a caunon-snot, and no one 
 considered it worth while to go towards him, save Louis Lisle. All 
 were too intently watching the flashing ^veapons of the cavalry as 
 they charged again and again, each squadron wheeling to the right 
 and left to allow the others to come up, and the work of slaying and 
 capturing proceeded in glorious style. Poor Eonald's loss was never 
 thought of by his comrades. 
 
 " Stuart's knocked on the head, poor fellow ! " was his only elegy. 
 One hfe is valued less than a straw, when thousands are breathing 
 their last on the awful arena of a battle-field. 
 
 Louis, whose left arm hung bleeding and motionless by his side, 
 turned Eonald on his back with the right, and saw that he Vt^as pale 
 and breathless. He placed his hand on the heart, but it was still. 
 He felt no vibration. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! what a blow this will be for my poor sister ! 
 Farewell, Eonald ! I look upon your face for the last time ! " He 
 groaned deeply with mental and bodily agony as he bent his steps to 
 the rear, — a long and perilous way, for shot of every size and sort 
 were failing like hail around, whizzing and whistling through the 
 ail-, or tearing the turf to pieces Avhen they alighted. Hundreds of 
 riderless horses, many of them greys, snorting and crying with pain 
 or terror, were galloping madly about in every direction, trampling 
 upon the bodies of the dead and the wounded, and fini>liing with 
 their ponderous hoofs the work which many a bullet had begun. 
 
 The slaughter among the French at that part of the field was 
 immense ; but their case might have been very different had they 
 stood firm and shown front, as British infantry would have done. 
 
 One thousand were hterally sabred, ridden do-wn, or cut to pieces ; 
 two thousand taken prisoners, with two eagles — one by a serjeant of 
 the Greys, and all the drums and colours ; a catastrophe 'which 
 scarcely occupied five minutes' time, and which Napoleon beheld 
 from his post near La Belle Alliance with sensations which may 
 easily be conceived, for these troops were the flower of his numerous 
 army. 
 
 This was about half-past four in the afternoon, and over the whole 
 plain of Waterloo the battle was yet raging with as much fury as 
 ever. 
 
 CHAPTEE LVIL 
 
 THE SISTEE OF CHAEITT. 
 
 "WHEiN" Eonald again became conscious that he was yet in the 
 land of the hving, he found himself in a waggon, the uneasy jolting 
 of which occasioned him great agony. It was driven by two sturdy 
 Flemish peasants, clad in blue blouses and red caps, as he could 
 perceive by the hght of the moon : they sang merrily some uncouth, 
 song, and appeared to be in a happy state of intoxication. 
 
 The Flemings were driving furiously, at a rate which threatened 
 every moment to overturn the vehicle, and it was incessantly bumped 
 
456 THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 n,painst a wall on one side of the highway, or a high foot-palh which 
 hordered the other. Eonald often implored and commanded them 
 to drive slower, but thej' heeded him no more than the Annd. How- 
 ever, they were compelled to slacken their speed on approaching 
 "Waterloo, where, in a short time, they were brought to a hah 
 altogether, the road being completely choked uji with the wounded, — 
 Thousands upon thousands of whom were on their way to Brussels 
 on foot, a few on horseback, and many in waggons. It was now 
 midnight, as the toll of a distant church-clock announced. A 
 horrible medley filled the air around the place where Stuart's 
 waggon stopped. The cries of the wounded were piercing. In their 
 agony, strong men were screaming like women, and the appeals for 
 water from their parched tongues were piteous in the extreme. 
 Some of them Avere men who had been wounded on the 16th, at 
 Quatre Bras, but hundreds of the sufferers who were maimed on that 
 occasion, perished under the fury of the next day's storm in the forest of 
 Soignies. whither they had fled for shelter on the temporary advance 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 The highway was as much crowded as the field with dead and dying, 
 and the waggons of the train, the baggage-carts, the commissariat 
 caissons, &c., were every moment increasing in number, all pressing 
 to get along the choked-up road. The hubbub was increased by 
 foreign and British cavalry, and mounted ofiicers riding, some to the 
 front and some to the rear, as their duty led them, and threatening 
 to f-abre any one who opposed their passage. Oaths, threats, and 
 execrations, in English, French, Belgic, and German, resounded 
 everywhere. It Avas a medley of horror and confusion, such as few 
 men have ever looked upon. 
 
 The boors who drove the waggon in which Stuart lay, abandoned 
 it and left hun to his fate. He was utterly heedless of what it might 
 be. He had never felt so weary of Hfe, when sufiering under any 
 disaster, as he did at that moment ; and he sincerely envied the dead 
 who lay around him. The pain of his bruised side was intense, and 
 he womd gladly have given mountains of gold, if he had them, for a 
 single drop of water to moisten his parched and sv/ollen tongue. His 
 head felt hot and heavy, but there was no one near to raise it. 
 
 He sunk again into a stupor, and all that passed during the 
 remainder of that dismal night seemed like a dream. He was still 
 sensible of acute pain, but the jolting of the rumbling waggon, when 
 again in motion, seemed like the motion of a ship at sea, and he 
 thought himself once more in the Bay of Biscay, on board the Diana 
 of London. 
 
 From his feverish slumber he was roused by feeling his forehead 
 bathed with some cool and refreshing hquid, by hands soft and gentle, 
 like those of a female ; but this, too, he deemed imagination, and his 
 eyes remained closed. But the bathing continued, and became too 
 palpable to be mistaken. "When he looked around, he found himself 
 in an airy and elegant room, with white flowing drapery hanging 
 gracefully from the windows, and from the roof of the French couch 
 upon which he lay. Inst'mctively he raised his hand to his neck, to 
 feel for the portrait of A.ice Lisle. It hung no longer there, but 
 was placed in his hands ty the kind fairy who had taken upon her- 
 self the office of being his nurse. He turned to look upon her, but 
 she glided awaj'. 
 
THE EOMIANCE OF TVAB. 45? 
 
 ** I am dreaming," murmured he, and closed his eyes ; but on 
 opening them again, the same scene met his view. The room v,as 
 richly carpeted, the furniture was costly and elegant, the ceihug "was 
 lofty, and covered with painted birds and angels, flying among fleecy 
 clouds and azure skies. The pictures on the wall were large Dutch 
 cattle-pieces and glaring prints of Oudenarde and other battles, and 
 a most agreeable perfume was wafted through the apartment from 
 several Delft vases filled with fresh flowers, which adorned the 
 polished side-tables and lofty marble mantel-piece. Ronald looked 
 from one thing to another in silent wonder, — he could not imagine 
 whither he had been conveyed ; but that which most attracted his 
 attention was the figure of a female, — a nun he supposed her to be, 
 — whose face was turned from him, and who seemed to be kneeling 
 in a meek and graceftil attitude of prayer, so he had an opportunity 
 of observing her particularly. 
 
 Her costume was very simple, but, from its shape, amply displayed 
 her very beautiful bust and whole figure. It consisted of a tight 
 body and -^ide skirt of black serge, girt round her slender waist b:^ 
 a white fillet. She wore a hood of -w'hite silk, from beneath which 
 one bright ringlet fell over her shoulder. There was something very 
 bewitching and coquettish in that stray love-lock, and it gave fair 
 promise that there was much more worth seeing under the same 
 little hood. Her hands were very small, and very white ; but they 
 were clasped in prayer, and her face seemed to be turned upwards. 
 
 "Heavens!" thought Stuart, "I am back again in the land of 
 guitars and pig-skins. This is witchcraft, and Waterloo is all a 
 dream. Bah ! my wound says no ! Where am I ? " swd he aloud, 
 ^^ Buenos dlos, gentil sencra," he added in his most bland Spanish. 
 
 "Ah, monsieur," said the lady, springing towards him, "you have 
 awakened at last." 
 
 "French, by Jove!" thought the invaUd, " Napoleon has beaten 
 us, and I am a prisoner." 
 
 " Ah ! I have prayed for you very earnestly, and Heaven has heard 
 me." 
 
 " What ! " said Eonald in astonishment, " have you really been 
 prajing for me V 
 
 " For you, monsieur," rephed the young damsel, seating herself by 
 his side. 
 
 " How very good of you, mademoiselle ! But to what do I owe 
 such happiness, — I mean, that you should take any interest in me ?" 
 
 " Monsieur," said she, pouting, " I pray for all,— the good Christian 
 and the heretic alike." 
 
 Her face was very pretty, almost beautiful, indeed ; rather pale, 
 perhaps, but there was a girlishness, a pure innocence of expression 
 m her soft dove-like hazel eyes, which made her extremely attractive. 
 She seemed somewhere about sixteen, — a mature age on the Conti- 
 nent,— and had all the air of a lively French girl turned prematurely 
 into a nun. 
 
 " I am extremely fortunate that you should interest yourself so 
 much about me, mademoiselle," said Ronald, in a tone sufficiently 
 doleful, although he attempted to assume a gallant air. " But will 
 you please to tell me where I am just now ?" 
 
 " In Brussels, monsieuFt*' 
 
 "Brussels? Good." 
 
458 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 " See," continued the fair cirl, drawing back the curtains ; " there 
 Is the eay Sablou-square, and yonder the good old church of holy 
 Saint Gudule, with its two huge towers and beautiful window." 
 
 " And this si)lendid house ?" 
 
 " Belongs to the widow of Mynheer Vandergroot." 
 
 " And you, my pretty mademoiselle, — pray who are you ? " 
 
 " You must not call me mademoiselle," said she demurely. 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "Sister." 
 
 "Sister?" 
 
 " Oui, monsieur. I am called Sister Antoinette de la Misericorde." 
 
 " A strange name ! " 
 
 " I think it very pretty, monsieur ; I am called so among the Saetcrs 
 de la Charite. But never mind my name, monsieur ; you speak too 
 much, and disturb yourself. How glad I am to see you looking so 
 well, after being in so deep a sleep all yesterday." 
 
 Bonald put his hand to his head, and strove to recollect himself. 
 
 " Was I not at Waterloo yesterday ?" 
 
 " No, monsieur ; the day before. Alas, what a day it was ! But 
 you must not speak any more, — and Quiist obey me in all things. I 
 am your nurse." 
 
 " You !" exclaimed Stuart in a tone of pleasure and surprise, while 
 he attempted to take her hand ; but she easily eluded him. " Ah, 
 what a happiness for me. mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " Sister !" said she, holding up her tiny finger. "I am your only 
 nurse, and I have six other officers on my list. Poor creatures ! " 
 she added, while her fine eyes became sufiused with tears. " Alas ! 
 they are dreadfully wounded, and I experience great horror in 
 being their attendant ; but my vows must be fulfilled. 'Tis the work 
 of Heaven, and the poor Sister Antoinette must neither shrink 
 nor repine. But your wound, monsieur ; you vrere struck in the 
 side, but there is no blood." 
 
 " But I am bruised to death, Antoinette." 
 
 "MonDieu! monami; so the medical ofiicer said. But here be 
 comes, and I must be gone, for a time at least." 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and the assistant-surgeon 
 entered. He made a profound bow to the lady, — imitating a style he 
 had picked up in Castile, and causing the black plumage of his regi- 
 mental bonnet to describe a circle in the air. 
 
 " Well, my dear ]\Iademoiselle Antoinette," said he, taking hsr 
 hand, " how is our patient this morning ?" 
 
 " Indeed, monsieur, I know not," replied the girl with confusion, 
 and attempting to withdraw her hand. 
 
 " I fear, Antoinette, if the troops are all provided with such nurses, 
 they Avill be in no hurry to quit the sick list, which it is our interest 
 to keep as empty as possible ; but — " 
 
 Here mademoiselle broke away from him, and, snatching up a 
 little basket of phials, fled from the apartment. 
 
 " Well, Ronald, my man," said the medico, unbuckUng his broad- 
 sword and seating himself by the bed ; " how do you find yourself 
 this morning ? " 
 
 " Having ended your flirtation, 'tis time to ask, Dick," rephed the 
 invalid pettishly. 
 
 " What ! are you turning jealous of a girl that nurses half the 
 regiment ? Let me see your Knocks,—how are they V 
 
THE BOMANCE OF WAE. , 459 
 
 Confoundedly sore! My ribs are all broken to pieces, I 
 think." 
 
 "Scarcely," replied the doctor, passing his hand over the injured 
 part ; they are all as sound as ever they were. Do you find that 
 sore?" said he, deliberately poking his finger on particular places 
 "v;ith the most medical nonchalance. 
 
 " The devil, Dick ! to be sure I do," said Eonald, -wancing, and 
 suppressing a violent inclination to cry out, or punch the other's 
 head. 
 
 "Sore, eh?" 
 
 " Very," said the other sulkily. 
 
 " Ah ! I thought you would." 
 
 " I suppose you mean to follow up this attack, by prescribing 
 bleeding and hot water ? " 
 
 " The first certainly ; the last, as may be required," said the doctor, 
 in his turn, getting a little piqued. 
 
 " I have Qozed away a wnole day," said Ronald. 
 
 "You find yourself all the better for it now, We will have you 
 on your legs next week." 
 
 " But the battle ! You have kept up such a gabble, Dick, I have 
 not had time to ask you if we won it." 
 
 " Who else could win it ? But I will tell you all, after I have 
 looked to your hurts." 
 
 " No ; tell me first of the battle, and be as brief as possible." 
 
 " \Yell, then, Buonaparte was soundly beaten on the 18th, and is 
 flying towards Paris, I believe. Welhngton and old Blucher are 
 after him, double quick." 
 
 "Our loss?" 
 I have not heard " 
 
 "How is Lisle, and all the rest of ours ?" 
 
 " I have not yet learned where Louis is billetted, but I fear his arm 
 is lost. Captain Little was killed close by me, after you were struck. 
 [Fifteen officers are wounded and eight killed ; but you shall hear not 
 another word till I have seen your wound more particularly, and 
 have applied some dressing." 
 
 The cannon-shot had bruised his side severely. It was frightfully 
 discoloured, and he was almost unable to move in consequence of 
 the intense pain which he suffered. 
 
 The doctor, producing a silver case of lancets, proposed bleeding, a 
 course to which Eonald stoutly objected, saying that he felt weak 
 enough already. He was therefore fain to content himself with 
 leaving directions for the preparation of an enormous poultice, and 
 a diet of broth and barley-water. He then took his leave, saying 
 that he had more than a hundred patients on his list, and should be 
 totally unable to call for two days at least ; but desired Allan Warri- 
 stoun, E/onald's servant, to come every evening, and report how his 
 master was. The doctor's prescription gave Konald considerable 
 relief, notwithstanding the throwing out of window of a consider- 
 able portion of the ingredients, and the discussion, -with infinite 
 relish, of certain dehcacies which, after a few days, were brought to 
 his bed-side by the kind old widow Vandergroot. 
 
 Converting Warristoun's knapsack into a desk, Eonald sat, propped 
 up in bed, writing a letter for Alice, and another for Lochisla, for he 
 was still ignorant of the change which had taken place there, when 
 Sister Antoinette, entering lightly and softly, stole to his side. Her 
 
4(50 THE B01L1^-CE OF WAS 
 
 gentle hand was on his shoulder, and her soft eyes were beaming on 
 his, almost before he was aware of her presence. Her silken hood 
 had fallen back, and revealed her fine glossy hair, — aU. save the long 
 stray ringlet, beautifully braided like a coronet around her head. 
 Her order were not robbed of their flowing tresses on taking their 
 vow upon them. 
 
 Ronald tossed the knapsack upon the carpet, and caught her hand 
 with an exclamation of pleasure. She permitted him to retain hLs 
 hold for a moment. He would have spoken, but she placed her finger 
 on his lips, and again told him that she Avas his nurse, and that he 
 "must not speak." The finger belonged to a very pretty hand, 
 though it was unadorned by ring or bracelet ; and, taking it again 
 within his own, he ventiu'ed to' kiss it. The sister drew back in- 
 stantly, and blushed crimson; but not with displeasure, for she 
 seemed too amiable and gentle a creature to be easily offended. 
 
 " I have brought you three books, monsieur." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, my dear httle sister ! " said he, as she pro- 
 duced the volumes from a small reticule, which she carried under 
 the skirt of her long cape. " How very attentive of you !'' I am 
 always so dull when you are absent." 
 
 '' I had them, monsieur, from an aged Reposante of our order, who 
 in time has amassed quite a little hbrary of her own." 
 
 " A French Bible," said Ronald, laying aside the first with an air 
 of disappointment. " What next ? ' The holy Doings of the good 
 Sisters of St. Martha.' And the next ? ' Rules of the Servantes 
 des Pauvres de Charite!' By Jove, my dear Antoinette, these 
 books won't do for me, I fear." 
 
 " They are very good books, monsieur," said she, modestly. " I am 
 sorry you are displeased." 
 
 " Ma belle Antionette, I thank you not the less, beheve me ; but if 
 any of my brother-officers were to pop in and find me reading them, 
 I should never hear the end of it, and two or three duels would 
 scarcely keep the mess in order." 
 
 " I am sorry for it. But if you will not read them yourself, I will; 
 and if any of your wild Scottish officers come in, let them laugh at 
 me if they dare." 
 
 " They will take care how they do that in my chamber, Antoinette," 
 said Stuart, with a peculiar smile, while the girl threw back her 
 hood and prepared to read, displaying, as she did so, a neck and 
 hands of perfect beauty and lady-like whiteness. She read, in a low, 
 earnest, and very pleasing voice, the story of the good Samaritan, to 
 which Ronald, who was quite enraptured -with her appearance and 
 manner, paid very little attention. She read on without ceasing for 
 nearly half an hour, ^nd imagiued that the young officer was a very- 
 attentive hstener. But, in truth, he was too much occupied in ob- 
 serving the admirable contour of her face, her do^^ncast lashes and 
 fine hair, the motion of her httle cherry lips and swelhng bosom, to 
 attend to the various chapters which she was so good-natured as to 
 select for his edification. 
 
 After administering certain drugs, which perhaps neither Widow 
 Tandergroot nor Doctor Stuart, with all their eloquence, could have 
 prevailed on Ronald to swallow, she withdrew, notwithstanding his 
 entreaties that she would remain a httle longer. 
 
 He felt rather jealous of the attentions she might bestow on others • 
 but this selfish feeling lasted only for awhile, She had several 
 
THE KOMANCE OF Y7AE. 461 
 
 Highlanders, three hussars, and two artillery officers on hes* list: 
 some of the latter were minus legs and arms. Next day when she 
 visited Stuart she was weeping, for three of her patients had died of 
 their wounds. 
 
 The whole of Brussels had been converted into a vast hospital ; 
 every house, without distinction, was crowded mth wounded ar;. 
 sick. The officers and soldiers, in some places, were lying side uy 
 side on the same floor ; and the humanity, kindness, and solicitude 
 displayed towards these unfortunates by the ladies, and other females 
 of every class, are worthy of the highest praise. They were to be 
 seen hourly in the hospitals, distributing cordials and other little 
 comforts to the wounded soldiers of all nations, — friend and foe alike. 
 They were blessed on every side as they moved along, for the poor 
 fello'n's found sisters and mothers in them all. 
 
 Eonald took a deep, and perhaps for so young a man, a dangerous 
 interest in the fair Antoinette de la Misericorde. He deplored that 
 so charming a creature should be condemned to dwell in a dreary 
 cloister, — her fine features shaded and lost beneath the hideous lawn 
 viel and misshapen hood of the sisters ; and that her existence was 
 doomed to be one of everlasting piayer, penance, fast, humiliation, 
 and slavery in hospitals, surrounded continually by the fetid breath 
 of the sick, by distempers and epidemics, scenes of want, woe, and 
 misery, and in the hearing sometimes of sorrow, blasphemy, and 
 horrid imprecations, — for her duty led her into the dens and prisons 
 of the police, and the inmost recesses of the infamous Rasx^-haus. 
 "Whether her own wish, or her parents' tyranny and superstition, 
 had consigned her to this miserable profession, he never discovered ; 
 but the life of a galley-slave or a London sempstress would have 
 been preferable. 
 
 Antoinette was evidently a lady by manner, appearance, and birth. 
 None but a lady could have owned so beautiful a hand. She had all 
 the natural vivacity and buoyant spirits of a Prench girl, and, at 
 times, her saUies and clear ringing laughter contrasted oddly with 
 the sombre garb and her half real, half affected demureness. 
 
 Ronald formed a hundred plans for her emancipation, but always 
 rejected them as impracticable. To persuade her to elope from Brus- 
 sels, and go home with him to be a companion for Alice Lisle, would 
 never do. Scandal would be busy, and even should he escape the 
 wrath of the Belgian police, the mess would quiz him out of the 
 service. 
 
 " What the deuce can be done to save this fair creature from such 
 slavery?" thought he. "I would to Heaven somebody would run 
 away with her ! There's Macildhui of ours, and Dick Stuart, our 
 senior Esculapius, handsome fellows both, and lx)th quite well aware 
 of it. Who knows what may come about ? The medico is evidently- 
 smitten with her, and Macildhui is on her sick list. Since poor 
 Grant was knocked on the head, we have not a married man, except 
 Louis, among us, and Antoinette would be an honour to th« 
 regiment." 
 
 The combined attention of the interesting Mitla fille de convent, of 
 the widow, of Doctor Stuart, and of Allan his servant, soon placed 
 Ronald on his feet again ; and in the course of a week or two he was 
 able to move about the room, and enjoy a cup of chocolate at the 
 window overlooking the square, where a host of crippled soldiers, 
 leaning on sticks and crutches, were seen hobbling about amon? 
 
 II. 2 H 
 
462 THE ROMANCE OF TTAB. 
 
 fresh-coloured Flemish girls with plump fibres and large ^vhite 
 caps, bulbous-shaped citizens, and pipe-smoking Dutchmen in high- 
 crowned hats and' mighty inexpressibles. 
 
 Two days after he became convalescent the sister informed him 
 that now her visits must cease. 
 " And will you not come to me sometimes, Antoinette ?" 
 " I am sorry, monsieur : no, I cannot." 
 " Then I will visit you." 
 
 " That must not be either : a man never passes our threshold. I 
 must bid you farewell" 
 " Ah. you do not mean to be so cruel, Antoinette ?" 
 " There is no cruelty," said she, pouting ; " but I mean what I 
 say." 
 
 *' Our acquaintance must not cease, however," said Eonald, taking 
 her hand, and seating her beside him near the Avindow Avhich over- 
 looked the bustling Rue Haute. " Must we never see each other 
 more, and only Ijecause there are no more confounded drugs to be 
 swallowed and pillows to be smoothed ?" 
 
 " It must be so, my friend ; and I — I hope you have been satisfied 
 ■vrith me." 
 
 " Antoinette ! satisfied ? and with you ? Ah ! how can you speak 
 so coldly ? My dear little girl, you know not the deep intei'est I take 
 in you. ' But, tell me, would you wish to leave Brussels ? It cannot 
 be your native place." 
 "'Monsieur, I do not understand — " 
 
 " Would not you ^vish to leave the dull convent of the sisterhood 
 to live in the midst of the gay and the great world, — to Uve in a 
 barrack, perhaps, and be awakened every morning by the merry 
 reveill or the bold pibroch, or to—" 
 
 He paused, for the last observation had been misunderstood. 
 Tlie eyes of the Trench girl flashed fire, and her pouting lips curled 
 so haughtily and so prettily, that, yielding only to the impulse of the 
 moment, Eonald was tempted to carry on the war with greater vigour. 
 " Pardon me, Antoinette ; I did not mean to offend you," said 
 Stuart, drawing her nearer to him by the little unresisting hand 
 ■which he still held captive. 
 
 " O monsieur ! what do you mean?" cried the poor girl, trembling 
 violently, while a deep blush covered her Mhole face and neck ; her 
 sparkling eyes were cast languidly do\Mi, and the palpitations of her 
 heart could^ be distinctly seen beneath the tight serge vest or bodice 
 which encased her noble bust. " Oh, inon Dieu .'" she added, what is 
 the matter with me ? I feel very ill and giddy." Yet she made bu* 
 feeble struggles to release herself. 
 
 "Promise you will come again and see me, Antoinette," said 
 'Eonald, drawing her very decidedly on his knee. 
 
 " Oh, let me go, monsieur, I must have the honour to wish you a 
 good morning." fehe made a motion to go, but his arm had encircled 
 her. " My vows ! Oh, pray, for the love of Heaven, let me go. 
 TJnhand me, I implore you." 
 
 " One kiss, then, Antoinette, — only one kiss ; and in sisterly love, 
 you know ? " and his lips were pressed to her hot cheek ere she was 
 aware. " But one more, dear Antoinette ! " but she burst from his 
 grasp and covered her b^aruing face with her robe, weeping as if her 
 heart would break. 
 
THE EOIIANCE OF WAE. 463 
 
 " Holj' Virgin, looi: down upon me !" she exclaimed. '•How shall 
 I ever atone for this deadly sin ? I must confess it, and to the stern 
 dean of Saint Gudule, that the lips of a man have touched mine. 
 Me ! a Sister of Charity, a nun, a miserable woman, sworn and 
 devoted to the service of Heaven ! Oh, monsieur, you have done 
 me a great Avrong ; but may Heaven forgive you as readily as Z do ! 
 Adieu ! we shall never meet again."' 
 
 Eonald made an attempt to catch her, but nimbly and gracefully 
 as a fawn she eluded his grasp, and fled down stairs like an arrow, 
 leaving the discomfited soldado more charmed than ever with her 
 simphcity and modesty. And it may easily be supposed that the 
 interest she had excited m his bosom was increased when he dis- 
 covered that, in spite of her vows and veil of lawn, he was not indif- 
 ferent to the little French nun. 
 
 " Still," he reflected, " it is better that we should meet no more. 
 Antoinette is wise ; yet I hope she may look up here to-morrow, if 
 it's only to see me for the last time." 
 
 To-morrow came and passed away, but the Sister of Charity came 
 not to visit him as usual, and he regretted that he had frightened her 
 away. " However," thought he, " she may yet come to-morrow : the 
 little fairy loves me better than she dares to acknowledge." 
 
 Three days elapsed without her ^'isiting him, and it was evident 
 that she would come no more. He grew very impatient and uneasy, 
 and spent most of his time in watching alternately the sciuare and 
 the Eue Haute, with the hope of seeing her pass. Once he saw a 
 Sister of Charity coming from the church of Saint Gudule. Her 
 figure seemed light and graceful as she tripped down the immense 
 flight of steps at the entrance ; it was Antoinette without doubt. 
 E-egardless of distance and the crowded street below, Eonald called 
 aloud to her ; but she was too far ofi" to heai", and turned a corner 
 do■\^^a the Rue de Shaerbeck without bestomng one glance on the 
 mansion of "VV'idow Yandergroot, which was sufficiently conspicuous 
 by its large yellow gables, its green Venetian blinds, and red streaks 
 round the windows. If the little figure which ghded along the street 
 were Antoinette's, he never beheld it again. 
 
 One day, about a fortnight afterAvards, while seated reading a 
 despatch of Wellington's, he heard footsteps, much lighter than those 
 of the substantial -widow Yandergroot, ascending the wooden stair- 
 case. " She has come at last," said he, as the cigar fell from his 
 mouth ; he threw down the paper, and half rose. The door opened, 
 and Lisle entered. 
 
 " Louis !" he exclaimed, leaping up with astonishment. '"Gracious 
 powers ! how changed you are." 
 
 " I may observe the same of you ! Eaith, man ! you are wasted te 
 a mummy," replied Lisle, smiling sadly. " 1 have been winged at 
 last," he added, pointing to his left sleeve, which was empty, and 
 hung, attached by a loop, to a button at liis breast. " It is now doing 
 very well," he continued, " but the sight of my empty sleeve and 
 stump will scare the ladies at Inchavon : that, though, is the least 
 part of the affair. My soldiering is now ended -the Grordon High- 
 landers and Louis Lisle must part at last! 'Every bullet'— you 
 know the adage." 
 
 " I am glad you oear with your loss so easily." 
 
 ** Your o'.vn escape was a narrow one." 
 
 2h2 
 
i/fii THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 " Very. Had I been a few yards nearer the ridge, where the 
 enemy's* guns were in position, that unlucky twelve-pound shot 
 would have cut me into halves hke a fishing-rod. But how are all 
 the rest of ours ? I have not been abroad yet." 
 
 " All doing famously, and ready to swear that the ladies of Brus- 
 sels are angels upon earth,— the Sisters of Charity especially." This 
 was said unwittingly, but Stuart felt the blood mounting to his 
 temples. " As yet there have been no more amputations, but Mac- 
 ildhui is in a worse predicament than any of us." 
 
 "How, pray?" 
 
 " He has been deeply smitten with the charms of a certain Uttle 
 French Sister of Charity, by whom he has been, luckily or unluckily, 
 nursed ; but his romantic ladye-love has deserted him, without warn- 
 ing, for the last few days, and poor Mac is very sorrowful, senti- 
 mental, and all that. He poured all his sorrows in my ear one 
 evening, being thrown completely off his guard by the mellow influ- 
 ence of a glass of tin ordinaire at sixteen sous per bottle. But the 
 Sister—" 
 
 "Never mind her," said Eonald, colouring very perceptibly 
 again; "tell me about the army. What's the news from head- 
 quarters ?" 
 
 " Oh, glorious ! the power of France and of Buonaparte has been 
 completely laid prostrate. The army pressed forward into the 
 enemy's country ; and Marshal Davoust sent the Marquis of Wel- 
 lington a flag of truce, craving a suspension of hostilities, and offering 
 to yield up Paris. It was surrendered on the 4th of this month 
 (July), and the marshal commenced his retreat beyond the Loire. 
 Our troops are all in Paris by this time ; so make haste and get well, 
 my dear fellow, that you may rejoin. Only think how the rogues 
 will be enjoying themselves in Paris ! " 
 
 " There are few of ours left to rejoice." 
 
 " About one hundred and fifty bayonets are vdth Campbell, and 
 we have nearly five hundred wounded here in Brussels. That cursed 
 affair at Quatre Bras mauled us sadly. Before the engagement, we 
 marched out of Brussels exactly one thousand and ten strong, and 
 more than one-half lay on the sod ere sunset. Poor Cameron ! the 
 corps will feel his loss. By the bye, I forgot to mention that Camp- 
 bell has got the lieutenant-colonelcy. Our romantic friend Mac- 
 ildhui gets the majority, and you are now senior captain. I hope 
 you vnW win your spurs ere I see you again. I set out for Scotland 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "So soon?" 
 
 " Tes. My letters from Virginia and Ahce are verv importunate ; 
 and I shall either sell, or go upon ha/f-pay. I leave Flanders on sick 
 leave, in the first instance." 
 
 " T^''ell, I shall soon rejoin you in Perthshire. I have seen enough 
 blood shed and battles won, and long to see the old peak of Benmore, 
 and hear the loaves rustling pleasantly in the woods of Oich and 
 Lochisla again." 
 
 Next day Lisle took his departure from Brussels. He still singu- 
 larly left Eonald in ignorance of what had occurred at home. A 
 thousand times he was on the point of adverting to the subject, but 
 always refrained. In a letter to Alice, he said that he would leave to 
 her the disagreeable task of convejing to Stuart the information of 
 
THE ROMANCE OP WAK. 465 
 
 Ms father's ruin, and the emigration of the Lochisla men ; because," 
 continued the letter, " so great is Ronald's veneration for his parent, 
 and such his Highland pride and his love of the old ancestral tower, 
 with all its feudal and family associations, that I verily believe he 
 TTould shoot himself in the first gust of his passion, were I to acquaint 
 him with what has happened at Lochisla." 
 
 Scarcely had Lisle left Brussels, when Eonald found that his 
 thoughts were beginning to revert to Antoinette de la Misericorde ; 
 and longing to see her again, he determined to sally forth the next 
 day and take an airing, in the hope of meeting her in the streets. 
 There were many hobbling about in the sunshine, on the Boulevard 
 de I'Este and the Boulevard du Nord, who had been more severely 
 wounded than himself. 
 
 On the morrow, therefore, immediately after discussing his break- 
 fast, — chocolate and a cigar, — he went forth into the streets of Brus- 
 sels for the first time since he passed through them in a waggon. 
 The noise, whirl, and din of the passengers and vehicles of every 
 kind, caused such a spinning sensation in his head, that he nearly 
 fell to the ground. He moved along the crowded streets, scarcely 
 knowing whether his head or heels were uppermost. The glare of 
 the noon-day sun seemed hot and strange, and everything — the 
 houses, the lamp-posts, the church spires, seemed waving and in 
 motion. With the aid of a patriarchal staff, which erst belonged to 
 Mynheer Vandergroot, he made his way through Brussels, and 
 reached the long shady walk of the Boulevard de I'Este, where, in 
 thankfulness, he seated himself for some minutes on a stone sofa. 
 
 The convent of the Sisters of Charity bordered somewhere on the 
 Boulevard. He had been directed thither, not by verbal instruc- 
 tions, but by signs, of which every Fleming seems to be a professor, 
 as it saves the mighty labour of using his tongue. Each mynheer 
 whom he accosted, being too lazy to use his mouth, generally replied 
 by pointing with his long pipe, or by jerking the summit of his 
 steeple-crowned hat in the direction inquired for. 
 
 The streets were thickly crowded with mihtary convalescents, of 
 every rank and of many nations. The regimentals were numerous. 
 The Enghsh, the Prussian, the Highland, the Belgian, and the 
 Hanoverian, were creeping about everywhere, supporting themselves 
 on sticks and crutches ; and in the sunny pubhc areas, long ranks 
 of them might be seen basking on the ground, or propped against 
 the wall on stilts and wooden legs, yet all laughing and smoking, as 
 merrily as crickets. 
 
 After a great deal of trouble, Eonald discovered the convent of the 
 Sisters of Charity, somewhere near the end of the Boulevard, at the 
 corner of the Rue aux Laines. It was a huge, desolate-looking 
 building, and migt'j very well have passed for the military prison, 
 which is not far from it. Its windows were small, — grated and far 
 between ; and the whole place looked not the less sombre because 
 the morning sun shone cheerily on its masses of grey '^U, lighting 
 up some projections vividly, and throwing others into the deepest 
 shadow. He heard a bell tolling sadly somewhere close by, and a 
 strain of cheral voices mingled with its iron tones. It rung a 
 Jcnell, and a dismal foreboding fell upon Stuart as he listened. He 
 struck gently Avith the gigantic knocker wliich ornamented the iron- 
 scfcudded gate, and immediately a panel was pulled aside, and tha 
 
466 THE E03IANCE OF WAB, 
 
 griin wrinkled visage of the portiere appeared within. He solicited 
 admittance. 
 
 " No man can ever pass the threshold, monsieur," replied the 
 other, who was a little Avoman of French inlanders, and clad in the 
 <i:arb of the order. 
 
 " How is the sister Antoinette de ia Misericorde ?" 
 
 " Well,— I hope." 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! " exclaimed Eonald, " But can I not see her, 
 mademoiseUe ?" 
 
 "O, monsieur! that is impossible," replied the portiere sadly, 
 " When I tell you she is gone to — " 
 
 " To where, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Heaven ;" replied the little woman tartly ; and being offended 
 probably at Eonald's impetuosity, she closed the panel in his face 
 vsithout ceremony. 
 
 The fragile and delicate creature — how utterly unsuited for the 
 life to which she had been doomed — had fallen a victim to the vile 
 and stupid superstition that had consigned her to a convent. ^Vhile 
 attending, in her mild and gentle innocency, on the sick in one of 
 the military hospitals, she had been attacked with a violent fever that 
 raged there, and wasted quickly away under its fiery power. 
 
 Stuart reeled against the iron-studded door as the words of the 
 portiere fell upon his ear, for at that moment he felt sick at heart, 
 and his knees tottered mth weakness ; but he walked away as 
 quickly as he could, till the requiem of the sisterhood and the iron 
 clang of the bell could no longer be heard amidst the bustle of the 
 JBue aux Laines. 
 
 " Poor Antoinette ! " thought he, as he turned doAvn the Eue 
 Eoyale, and, skirting the famous park, made straight for liis billet — • 
 " fair and gentle as she was, she deserved a bett<jr fate than to perish 
 in such a den of gloomy superstition and of bhnd devotion." 
 
 The poor girl's death made him very sad for some days ; but the 
 impression which her beauty and artlessness had made upon him 
 wore away as he grew better, and became able to frequent the cafeSy 
 the park, the Rue Bellevue, and other public places of resort at 
 Brussels. There the important events following the great victory at 
 Waterloo, — the capture of Paris, the public entry of Louis XVIII., 
 the ilight of Buonaparte, and his surrender to Captain Maitland of 
 the Bellerophon, were all canvassed, fully and freely, amidst the 
 boasts of the Belgians about the wonders performed by their country- 
 men on the glorious 18th of June ! 
 
 After residing iu Brussels about two months, Stuart reported 
 aimself " well," and was appointed to take command of three hun- 
 dred convalescents, who were declared fit for service by a medical 
 board, and were to rejoin the Highlanders at Paris " forthwith." 
 
 Early on the morning of his departure, just as Eonald was getting 
 on his harness, a man who brought the widoVs letters from the 
 Hotel des Fostes, placed in his hand one addressed to himself. 
 He tore it open : it was from Lisle, dated " Edinburgh," and rau 
 thus : — 
 
 "Deae Stuaet, 
 
 " I have merely written a short note to announce my arrival in 
 Scotland, and that all are well at Inchavon. Tour uncle, old Sir 
 Colquhoun Monteith of Caimtowis, has taken his departure to a 
 
THE E03IANCE OF WA2. 457 
 
 better world; and, as we cannot regret his death, allcw me to con- 
 gratulate you on becoming possessed of seven thousand a year, with 
 one of the finest estates in Scotland for shooting and coursing. 
 Messrs. Diddle and Fleece, W.S., Edinr., will send you further intel- 
 ligence. I have since seen, by the Gazette, that Cluny ]\IontiGth, 
 vour cousin, died of his wound somewhere on the Brussels road. 
 
 " Yours, &c." 
 
 CHAPTEE LVIII. 
 
 FEANCE. 
 
 It was on the morning of the 16th September that lionald quitted 
 Brussels, having under his command three hundred rank and file of 
 the Gordon Highlanders, as many more of the 42nd, and fifty men 
 of the Coldstream Guards. Three other officers were with him, but 
 he was their senior both by rank and standing. They paraded in the 
 park before the king's palace, in heavy marching order, about six 
 o'clock in the morning, and, moving round the corner of the palace 
 of the Prince of Orange, they proceeded along the Boulevard, after 
 passing through the Namur gate. As they quitted the city, with 
 bayonets fijxed and pipes plajing before the fifty Coldstreams, who 
 of course marched in front, they elicited shouts of applause from the 
 Belgians, many of whom followed them for many miles on the 
 Waterloo road, and several young women went much farther, so that 
 they never returned at all. Stuart had a very affectionate leave- 
 taking with Widow Vandergroot, whose fat oily face was bedewed 
 with tears at his departure. 
 
 Their route, for part of the way, lay through the forest of Soignies ; 
 on quitting which, they entered the plains of Waterloo, so lately the 
 scene of that fierce contest in which the greatest empire in Europe 
 had been lost and won. They were now treading on the hallowed 
 ground of the field, and the murmur of conversation, which had 
 arisen among the detachment the moment command to " march at 
 ease" had been given, now died away, and the soldiers trod on in 
 silence, or spoke to each other only at intervals, and in whispers, for 
 there was something in the appearance of the vast graveyard around 
 them which caused strange feehngs of sadness to damp the milit ary 
 pride that burned in every breast. 
 
 The morning was remarkably fine, with a pure air and almost 
 cloudless sky. All nature looked bright and beautiful, and the 
 rising sun cast the long shadows of every house and tree far across 
 the level landscape, where everything was beginning to assume a 
 warm autumnal tint. 
 
 The farm of La Haye Sainte, the fine old chMeau of Hougoumont, 
 and other houses, were all roofless and ruined, the walls breached and 
 battered by cannon-shot; the parterras, the shrubberies, and 
 orchards destroyed ; but on these wrecks of the strife they scarcely 
 bestowed a look. As they marched over the ridge where the British 
 infantry formed line, the sights which greeted them there caused the 
 Highlanders — naturally thoughtful at all times — to become more so. 
 
 " No display of carnage, violence, and devastation, could have had 
 
4G8 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 SO pathetic an eflect as the quiet orderly look of its fields, brightened 
 Avith the sunshine, but thickly strewed with little heaps of upturned 
 earth, which no stmshine could brighten. On these the eye instantly 
 lell ; and the heart, having but a slight call made upon it from 
 without, pronounced "with more solemnity the dreadful thing that 
 lay below, scarcely covered with a sprinkling of mould. In some 
 i-pots they lay thick in clusters and long ranks ; in others, one would 
 l)resent itself alone ; betwixt these, a black scathed circle told that 
 lire had been employed to consume, as worthless refuse, what parents 
 cherished, friends esteemed, and women loved. The summer wind, that 
 shook the branches of the trees and waved the clover aiid gaudy 
 heads of the thistles, brought along with it a foul stench, still more 
 hideous to the mind than to the offended sense. The foot that 
 startled the small bird from its nest among the grass, disturbed at 
 the same time some poor remnant of a human being, — either a bit 
 of the showy habiliments in which he took pride, or of the warhke 
 accoutrements which were his glory, or of the framework of his body 
 itself, which he felt as comeliness and strength the instant before it 
 became a mass of senseless matter." 
 
 The ideas which appear to have pervaded the mind of the '^vriter 
 quoted, were those of every man of that detachment ; such, indeed, 
 as the objects in their path, and the mournful scenes by which they 
 were surrounded, could scarcely fail to inspire. 
 
 Marching by easy stages, they entered Mons, the strongly-fortified 
 capital of Hainault. During the halt of two days here, most of the 
 officers one evening attended the theatre, — a visit which nearly cost 
 some of them their lives. The play was " The Fall of Zutphen," and 
 the dresses of the actors were as ridiculous as their acting. The 
 ferocious Duke of Alba Avas represented by a little fat Fleming, clad 
 in a cocked-hat and old red coat ; Frederick, his son, by a boor, e)i 
 House, who smoked a pipe composedly during the performance. The 
 Dutch troops were represented by a party of Belgian chasseurs, and 
 the Spanish by a strong brigade of motley-garbed scene-shifters and 
 candle-snuflfers. At a part of the play where Frederick storms 
 Zutphen, and orders his soldiers to give it to the flames, sparing 
 neither sex nor age in the sack, some ashes dropped from the bowl 
 of this ferocious commander's pipe, and, hghting among some 
 sulphur and other ingredients kept for stage purposes, set the whole 
 scenery in a blaze. Zutphen was in flames in earnest. The players 
 rushed about in every direction, crying for help like distracted 
 people ; but the audience, supposing the conflagration to be a part 
 of the play, applauded with increasing vehemence, till the flames of 
 Zutphen began to extend from the stage to the other parts of the 
 house, and the blazing wood tumbling about their ears, warned the 
 Flemings of their danger. A tremendous rush was made for the 
 door. Stuart was thrown over by the press, and trod under their 
 feet ; and had not the officer who commanded a party of the Cold- 
 stream Guards menaced the citizens with his sword and rescued 
 him, my narrative would probably have ended here. He dragged 
 liim out from the crowd, and they gained the street in safety. 
 
 The next stage was JBavay, in France. It is a little, but very 
 ancient town of French Hainault; and the inhabitants, either 
 ^jituated by loyalty to Louis XVIII., or by some remnant of that 
 old friendship which the French had, or rather pretended to have 
 had. for the Scots, received the Highland detachment with loud 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 469 
 
 acclamations, and the entire population of the little city followed 
 them through its gloomy old streets, till Ronald halted before the 
 Hotel de Vilie, where the magistrates distributed the billet-orders. 
 The soldiers were treated with the utmost attention and kindness by 
 the citizens ; and this was the more pleasant, because quite unex- 
 pected on entering the enemy's country. It was Ronald's lot to be 
 quartered upon a manufacturer of those woollen commodities which, 
 with iron-plate, are the principal commerce of Bavay. This worthy 
 had a splendid residence outside the city, where his ample garden, 
 orchard, &c., furnished every luxury that the delightful climate and 
 fruitful soil of France could yield him. He received Stuart coldly, 
 for he was one of those thorough-paced business mortals who con- 
 sider the soldier a burden, a bore, a useless and unnecessary animal. 
 His wife, a plump old dame, in a large French cap and ample petti- 
 coat, and mademoiselle her daughter, a lively and good-looking girl 
 about twenty, seemed to think otherwise, and made all the prepara- 
 tions in their power to receive the soldier with attention. There is 
 a mysterious something in the scarlet coat, which, to the feminine 
 portion of this world, is quite irresistible. 
 
 The young lady made arrangements to give a little fete that 
 evening, and all her female companions — everybody that was any- 
 body in and about Bavay — were to be there, and the Avhole house 
 was turned topsy-turvy : but she was wofully disappointed. 
 
 She had been singing and tinkhng with the guitar and piano to 
 Ronald for the greater part of the day, and he amused himself by 
 sitting beside her, turning over the leaves of music-books and albums, 
 saying soft little nothings all the while. Madame the mother often 
 sang in accompaniment, and they had become quite like old 
 acquaintances. But the gruff manufacturer of cotton hose and 
 shirts had watched their proceedings with a louring eye, and towards 
 evening he took up a new position, which cut short the preparations 
 for the fete. He placed both mother and daughter in durance vile, 
 by locking them up in some retired room ; after v/hich he rode ofi 
 with the key in his pocket. Whether he was influenced by jealousj', 
 or by national dislike, it is impossible to say, but the first is rather 
 unlikely. Mademoiselle was tolerably agi'eeable, and had a very 
 white hand for the daughter of a plebeian ; but her mother was ugly 
 enough to have frightened an old troop-horse, and monsieur, the 
 cotton manufacturer of Bavay, need have given himself no uneasiness 
 on her account. But the awkward affair made a great noise in the 
 town, and the story was related with various pleasant additions and 
 variations by the ojBficers of the forty-twa on their arrival at Clicliy 
 camp, and there was many a hearty laugh at Ronald's expense in the 
 mess-rooms of the ninth brigade. 
 
 Next morning, while the ladies were still under lock and key, the 
 detachments quitted the ancient capital of the Nervii, and marched 
 for La Coteau. 
 
 They were now in France : the boasted, " the beautiful, the invin- 
 cible, the sacred France," marching over it, treading upon its soil, — 
 with bayonets fixed, drums beating, and all the pomp of war, — 
 unobstructed and free as conquerors. The proud and triumphant 
 feelings attendant on such circumstances conflicted in their breasts 
 "vvith the sentiments of Lord Wellington's order, desiring that the 
 allied army were " to remember that their respective sovereigns were 
 the allies of his Majesty the King of France, and that therefore 
 
470 THE BOirAXCE OF WAE. 
 
 IVance must be considered as a friendly country." The inhabitants 
 of the towns, and the rural districts also, beheld them march on with 
 apparent apathy ; Avhat<iver tboir secret feelings might have been, 
 they were admirably concealed. A few old friends of the Bourbons 
 may be excepted, and these were chiefly old men and women, li\dng 
 in remote parts of the country. In some little villages they were 
 received vaiY jhouts of welcome : in large towns, their drunis and 
 pipes gave forth the only sounds heard in the streets. 
 
 At Cambray, Stuart was agreeably surprised to find that, by certain 
 changes wliicli had taken place in the regiment, he had^ as Lisle pre- 
 dicted, gained his " spurs," and was now regimental major. 
 
 "Yo^^ may thank your lucky stars for this rapid promotion, 
 Stuart," said the Guardsman who had saved his life at Mons. 
 
 " I may thank death, — the slaughter of Maya, Vittoria, Orthes, 
 Toulouse, and Waterloo rather," rephed Eonald. " Certes ! I have 
 no reason to complain, though I have seen work, both hard and hot, 
 while roughing it in the Peninsula." 
 
 " But a major ! " continued the other, " and only three-and-twenty ! 
 ]Major ! a rank ever associated with ease and good-living, the gout, 
 and six allowances of \vine at the mess, with a belt of greater girth 
 than that of any other man in the regiment ! I congratulate you, 
 my friend, and propose that we wet the commission." And it was 
 " wetted" forthwith accordingly, in some excellent eav.-de-vie. 
 
 Tliis promotion made Eonald completely happy ; it was the more 
 agreeable, because, like his accession to the property of his uncle, it 
 was quite unlooked for. As for the death of the latter, he had neither 
 reason to be glad nor very sorry ; but he felt as merry as a man can, 
 be who has suddenly succeeded to a handsome fortune, and he 
 demonstrated the fact by tossing his bonnet a dozen of times to the 
 ceiling, at r/hich strange employment his friend of the Coldstreams 
 surprised him in his billet at Brussels. 
 
 They continued their route by Peronne, Saint Quentin, by the 
 handsome town of Compzpgi.j on the Oise, and through Senlis. The 
 beauty and fertihty of the country through which they marched, 
 formed a continual theme of conversation and wonder. Often, for 
 the space of thirty miles, their line of march would be overshadowed 
 by a profusion of apple and pear trees, bordering the highway hke 
 one long and matchless avenue. The trees were laden with ripe and 
 tempting fruit ; and, in those places where the harvest had com- 
 menced, all the inhabitants of the district, men, women, and children, 
 were employed in beating the golden produce from the trees with 
 long poles, and gathering it into vast heaps, which were borne off in. 
 carts or baskets to the cider-presses. Every^vhere Nature seemed in. 
 her richest bloom and beauty, and the hawthorn-flower, the day- 
 flower, the woodbine, and the honeysuckle filled the air with the 
 most fragrant perfumes. The march from Brussels to Paris was 
 perhaps the most agreeable that the soldiers had ever performed. 
 
 On the 26th of September the detachment arrived at Clichy, a 
 village about two or three miles from Paris. Behind it the British 
 camp was formed, and the long lines or streets of white canvas bell- 
 tents pitched on the grassy bank sloping down to the Seine, all 
 shining white as snow in the sun, and with " the union" floating 
 over them, formed an agreeable prospect amid the universal green of 
 the scenery around. Guards and sentries were posted round the 
 encampment at regular distances. The regiments were on their 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 471 
 
 several evening parados, and a loud but somew hat confused medley 
 ©f martial music was swelling from amid the tents, and floated away 
 through the still evening air. On the smooth green banks, and 
 by the sandy margin of the clear blue river, hundreds of soldiers* 
 wives were engaged in the homely occupation of washing and bleach- 
 ing for the troops ; while swarms of healthy but ragged-looking 
 children, belonging to the camp, gambolled and scampered about the 
 green, sailed little ships on the river, played at hide-and-seek among 
 the tubs, around the tents and sentries, as they made the welkin 
 ring with shouts of hearty English merriment. Beyond the camp 
 was seen the snug French village, with its picturesque and old- 
 fashioned houses and still older trees, which had survived many 
 generations of men. There was something very pleasing in the 
 aspect of some of the ancient mansions, the high-bevelled roofs, with 
 the upper stories projecting far above the lower, — the walls displaying 
 a quantity of planks running up and down, and crossways, and the 
 gables ornamented \vith a variety of gilt finials and weathercocks, — 
 all showing the grotesque taste of a remote age. Still farther beyond 
 Clichy, rose the smoke and spires of Paris, which spread afar off like 
 a wilderness of stone and lime, from which rose a murmur like that 
 from a beehive, — the strange mingling but musical hum of a vast 
 and distant city. 
 
 Eonald soon " handed over" his detachment, and joined the group 
 of his comrades on the evening parade. By them he was con- 
 gratulated on his promotion and recovery, and received suck an. 
 account of the delights of Paris and the neighbourhood of Clichy, 
 that he regretted having been compelled to tarry so long at Brussels. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIX. 
 
 THE CHATEAU DE MAETELLE. 
 
 Immediately after parade next day, Eonald departed from Clichy 
 on a visit to Paris, " the city of delights," as an enthusiastic Prencli 
 author has termed it, — the famous Paris, of which so much has been 
 said, sun^, and written. But Ronald was, to a certain degree, dis- 
 appointed. The look of every man was sad and louring. The armed 
 sentinels of the allies were in every street, their guards on every 
 barrier ; cannon were planted to rake every thoroughfare and avenue, 
 and the artillery-men were around them, match in hand, by day and 
 night. The soldier slept with his accoutrements on, and the horse 
 in his harness ; and to ensure the peace of the capital, the whole of 
 the troops were ready to act on a moment's notice. The banner of 
 Blucher waved over Paris, and his advance was in front of it, in 
 position on the Orleans road; a brigade of British occupied the 
 Champs Elysees, and the union-jack and the white standard of 
 Austria waved over the summit of Montmartre. Proud Gaul was 
 completely humbled, and the Parisian had lost all his swagger, his 
 laughter, and lightness of head and heart. Many of the British 
 officers were insulted, abused, — I believe were spit upon by the 
 lower classes, when the allies first entered the French metropolis. 
 The people had no other means of giving loose to the sentiments of 
 rage, hatred, and hostiUty which boiled within them. A resort to 
 
472 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 open violence in arms would only have ended in the destruction of 
 Paris, and the annihilatioD of its inhabitant? The defeat on the 
 I)laius of AVaterloo will noi be soon forgotten in France. Like the 
 murder of Joan of Arc, it will be handed do^\-n from parent to child ; 
 and thus, from one generation to another, the hereditary hatred to 
 " perfidious Albion" will increase rather than diminish. 
 
 In Paris, and in France generally, the Highland garb attracted 
 more attention, and perhaps respect, than that of any other nation. 
 ZS^ot^vithstanding the bitter hatred which the French avowedly bear 
 to the ■whole isle of Britain, they sometimes make a distinction 
 between the Scot and his southern neighbour, as if they were 
 J30W, as of old, politically aliens to each other. At the cafes, the 
 *restaurateurs, the concerts, theatres, promenades, the Boulevards, 
 the Jardin des Tuileries, the Champ de jMars, the Bois de Boulogne, 
 and pubhc places of every kind, the officers who wore the Celtic 
 garb found themselves treated with the utmost respect, attention, 
 and even kindness, when their countrymen belonging to regiments 
 " in breeks " experienced marked coldness and aversion. The 
 figure of a Highland officer passing a milhner's shop, invariably 
 brought all the girls in it rushing to the door. " An officer of the 
 Scots ! " was the cry, and all the pretty grisettes were in the street 
 in a moment, to stare at and talk of the stranger until he was out 
 of sight. 
 
 Although Ronald had no acquaintances in Paris, excepting those 
 made by frequenting public places, yet he was well pleased ^^ith the 
 Parisians, and as long as he had money to spare and to spend, he 
 enjoyed himself in a manner that he had never done before. 
 Through his banker in London he drew many a cool hundred on 
 his Scotch agents, Messrs. Diddle and Fleece ; and, for a time, he 
 •wasted among grisettes, Frenchmen, and fools, rather more than was 
 quite prudent. Being junior major, he had of course nothing to do 
 but to amuse himself, appear on parade once a day, and ride round 
 the guards and posts when on duty : he spent the whole day in Paris, 
 and generally returned to camp when the reveille was beating, so 
 that his hours were rather early than late. 
 
 One evening, when making up a party for the next day, the hard 
 visage of Serjeant Macrone appeared at the door of the tent, an- 
 nouncing that his round of pleasure was closed. The orderly-book 
 — that tome of ill omen, with its brass clasps and parchment boards, 
 was handed in, while the non-commissioned officer, raising his hand 
 to his sunburnt and wTinkled forehead, conveyed the unpleasant in- 
 telligence " that her honour w^as for tuty, — no the tay pefore the 
 morn, put the fera neist." 
 
 " To-morrow ? The devil, Macrone ! do you say so ?" cried the 
 impatient major, snatching the book from the hand of the Celt, and 
 scanning over the brigade orders. " ' Major Eonald Stuart, of the 
 Gordon Highlanders, will take command of the detachment ordered 
 to proceed to — ' to where ? A ciu'sed cramped hand this. Who 
 wrote these orders, Macrone ?" 
 
 " The orderly serjeant, sir." 
 
 " Who is orderly ?" 
 
 " Just my ainsel, sir. Hoomh ! " 
 
 " Stupid ! Could you not have said so at once. ' — Command of 
 the detachment proceeding to the Chat-eau de Marielle, to relieve 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 47S 
 
 the Hanoverian regiment of Kloster Zeven.' Does anybody know 
 where the Chateau de IMarielle is ?" 
 
 '•' Two days' march from this " said Macildhui ; " near Melun. I 
 know the place. Archy Douglas and I have shot and coursed over 
 it for a whole week, mthout leave or license. 'Tis the property of 
 the Marquis of Laurieston." 
 
 " What I" exclaimed one, "old Clappourknuis's brother ?" 
 
 " The same. You remember him at Merida." 
 
 " And what do the wiseacres at head-quarters mean in sending a 
 detachment there ? " 
 
 " I suppose they scarcely know themselves. But obedience — We 
 all know the adage." 
 
 " Wellington is the man to keep us in mind of that ; and old 
 Pack too, ^nth his drills for five hours every Sunday after divine 
 service." 
 
 " And so," said Stuart, " we must forego all the gay scenes of 
 Paris to live in an old chateau among rooks and ancient elms. 
 Country quarters spoil many a gay fellow : we had better leave our 
 razors at Clichy." 
 
 " Wellington has ordered you on this service as a change, and to 
 cure you of dangling after actresses and grjzettes ; for in Paris they 
 quite spoil decent Highlandmen like ourselves." 
 
 " There Avill be neither the first nor the last at Melun, — nothing 
 but bro^vn-\isaged and red-haired dairymaids. I hope the chateau 
 contains Laurieston's family — some agreeable young ladies es- 
 pecially, to make us amends for the loss we sustain in being ordered 
 so far from Paris and this agreeable camp of Clichy, where we have 
 always dry canvas, soft grass, and plenty of sunshine and vm 
 ordinaire." 
 
 " Ladies ! I hope so," added Macildhui. '" Pretty faces, guitars, 
 and pianos enliven country quarters amazingly." 
 
 Ronald and the four officers who accompanied him were doomed 
 to be disappointed, for the chateau was occupied only by the 
 regiment of Kloster Zeven, and a few aged servants. The old 
 marchioness and her daughters had retreated to Paris on the first 
 arrival of the lads in scarlet and bulF. The Hanoverians marched 
 out of the court of the chateau, vtdth their bugles playing one of 
 those splendid marches for the production of which Germany is so 
 famous: the Highlanders marched in at the same moment, with 
 carried arms, and their pipes playing " The wee German Lairdie," 
 a tune which Macvurich, the leading piper, adopted for the 
 occasion. 
 
 The chateau stood close to the margin of the Seine, not far from 
 the quiet and pretty little town of ]\Ielun, embowered among aged 
 chesnuts, and surrounded by orchards and groves. It was a large 
 irregular building of the days of Louis XII., and was said to have 
 once been honoured as the residence of the celebrated Lady de 
 Beaujeu. It was covered with carved work in wood and stone, and 
 was surmounted by numerous turrets, vanes, and high roofs, 
 covered with singular round slates, jointed over each other like the 
 scales of a serpent. It was in every respect a mansion of the old 
 school, and would have been the permanent residence of some re- 
 spectatjle ghost of the olden time, had it stood in England, or more 
 especially in Scotland. 
 
474 THE ROMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 The soldiers were billeted at free quarters on the tenants, while the 
 officers took up their residence in the chateau, to the servants of 
 ■whicn orders had been given by the proprietor to provide them with 
 everything they required. Here they enjoyed themselves much 
 more than at Clichy, and the rickety old house was kept in an 
 uproar ihe whole day, and sometimes the whole night too, by their 
 merriment, pranks, and folly. Its splendid chambers, saloons, and 
 galleries were a good exchange for a turf floor and canvas tent, 
 which, in rainy weather, was never water-tight till it was thoroughly 
 soaked through, The beds, with hangings of silk, ostrich plumes, 
 and silver fringes, for camp shake-downs, and the white satin chairs, 
 stuffed with down, were also a good exchange for stone seats, trunks, 
 cap-cases, knapsacks, ammunition-barrels, or whatever else could be 
 had in the encampment. The mornings were spent in riding, the 
 days in shooting, till the preserves were ruined and the game ex- 
 terminated; and the evenings were devoted to chess and cigars, 
 moistened with a few bottles of Volnay, Pomarcl, Lajitte, champagne, 
 port, or sherry, for all the cellars were at then* absolute command. 
 A bull-reel generally concluded their orgies, or the sword-dance, 
 performed on the dining-tables ; after which they were all carried 
 off to bed by their servants, who, on one occasion, required the aid 
 of a fatigue party. 
 
 France is a glorious country in which to live at free quarters, and 
 the Highlanders remained till the end of October completely their 
 own masters, away from old Sir Denis, from Wellington, and staff- 
 office surveillance, amid merriment and jollity, spending their days 
 and nights as they had never spent them before in country quarters, 
 which are generally so dull and lifeless. In the frolic and festivity 
 of their superiors, the privates fully participated, and many a merry 
 though rather confused dance did they enjoy with the cottagers by 
 moonlight on the grassy lawn, where the slender peasant girl, the 
 agile husbandman, and the strong thickset clansman mingled 
 together, leaping and skipping, with better will than grace, to the 
 stirring sounds of the warlike bagpipes. 
 
 There was one subject alone which kept Eonald in a certain state 
 of uneasiness, — the non-arrival of letters from his father, although 
 he had regular despatches from Alice and her brother, which were 
 brought him every fortnight from the Hotel cle Pastes at Melun, by 
 Macvurich, who acted as postman for the chateau. He concluded 
 that all were well at the old tower, but that by some strange fatality 
 his father's letters were always destined to miscarry. 
 
 On the 26th of October they took a sad adieu of the venerable 
 Chateau de Marielle, of its saloons, its parks, its emptied cellars and 
 rifled preserves. Eight glad was old Chambertin, the butler, to 
 behold them depart ; and I dare say he thanked Providence de- 
 voutly, when the last gleam of their bayonets flashed down the old 
 gloomy chesnut avenue. Late on the night of the 25th, an aide-de- 
 camp (Lieut. D of 22nd Dragoons) brought Stuart an order, 
 
 directing him to remove his detachment to Clichy, from which the 
 regiment was about to march en route for Calais. It was eleven at 
 night vv-hen the order arrived ; and by daybreak next morning they 
 were all on the road, with bag and baggage, and had left Melun far 
 behind them. The soldiers were overjoyed at the prospect of re- 
 turning home, and they cheered and huzzaed lustily as they marched 
 .along, and displayed Hheir handkerchiefs on ramrods, and their 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 475 
 
 bonnets on ;lieir bayonets, in the extravagance of their dehght. _ So 
 eager were thev to rejoin, that they marched back the twenty-eight 
 miles in one day, and arrived in the camp at Chchyjiist as the 
 bugles were proclaiming sunset. 
 
 On the tented ground all were in a state of commotion and pre- 
 paration. Many regiments were under orders for England; the 
 brigades were broken up, and many alterations were made regarding 
 those troops that were to remain in France, to form the " Army of 
 Occupation," for three years. Next day Eonald mounted and set 
 off for Paris, to pay some of his old haunts a last visit, and to avoid 
 the bustle of the camp, where he left entirely to the care of 
 Warristoun, his servant, the task of packing and arranging his 
 baggage for the cars. 
 
 CHAPTEK LX. 
 
 PARTS, DE MESMAI, AND THE HOTEL DE CLUGNY. 
 
 While riding slowly along the Boulevard de la Madeline, Eonald 
 saw before him an officer,— a Frenchman, but one Avith Avhose figure 
 he imagined he was acquainted. He was a tall and handsome 
 man, and wore the scarlet uniform of Louis the Eighteenth's 
 garde-du-corps. 
 
 " I'll bet a hundred to one that is De Mesmai," said Stuart com- 
 muning with himself. " The rogue has changed sides ; but I think 
 I should know him by that inconceivable swagger of his." 
 
 There was no doubt of his being the cuirassier ; and, as he pre- 
 sently stopped to speak at the door of a shop in the Eue Eoyale, 
 Stuart touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 " Monsieur de Mesmai," said he, holding out his hand, " I hope 
 you are quite well. You have not forgotten me, surely ; we had 
 some odd adventures together in Spain. You remember the 
 cura of? — " 
 
 " Monsieur—monsieur— Dialle ! I have quite forgotten your 
 name." 
 
 " Stuart, of the Gordon Highlanders." 
 
 " Stuart ? I remember now. A thousand pardons, — and as many 
 welcomes to Paris ! " exclaimed the Frenchman, grasping his hand 
 and breaking into a profusion of bows, every one of which 
 threatened to jerk to the other side of the Boulevard the little red 
 cap which surmounted his large curly head. 
 
 " You have been very little about Paris, surely, Monsieur Stuart, 
 very little indeed since the—" he paused and smiled bitterlj'-, " since 
 the allies came to it." 
 
 " I have been for two months in country quarters at the Ch&teau 
 de Marielle, near Melun." 
 
 " Delightful place ; I know it well. Fine horse that of yours : 
 very like my old cuirassier." 
 
 " And so you have changed sides, I see : like Soult and many 
 others." 
 
 " No, by the name of the bomb ! " cried the Frenchman, his cheek 
 flushing while he spoke. " No, faith ! compare me not with Soult ! 
 I was one of the last who quitted the great Emperor, and my honour 
 
476 THE E03IiJS'CE OF WAE, 
 
 is Spotless. But what could I do, ]\Ionsieur Stuart ? He lias been 
 hurried on by his destiny, his e\il genius, or some such \illanous 
 agent, to vtTeck the fame and fortune of himself, his soldiers, and of 
 France, by delivering himself up— ^acre / to the British. AVhat was 
 I then to do ? I had been a soldier from my youth upwards. I had 
 interest to procure a commission as captain in the guard of Louis, 
 who is pleased, sacre nom de — bah ! to array us in scarlet ; and I've 
 been in Paris ever since AVaterloo, where I received a severe wound. 
 I have had hard work to get back from King Louis's ministers the 
 poor remn&nt that dice, wine, and women have left of mine ancient 
 patrimony, which has descended to my worshipful self through as 
 long a line of respectable ancestors as ever wore bag-wigs, "steel 
 doublets, and long swords. I lost my chateau of Quinsay when I 
 weut ^\ith the Emperor to Elba— that dismal isle, which the devil 
 confound ! I gained it again on his happy return to France,— lost 
 it at Waterloo ; but regained it when I donned the scarlet in the 
 guards of the most worshipful Louis, our dread lord and sovereign. 
 I'este ! After all, I am a lucky dog." 
 
 It may be imagined that Eonald, having once fallen in with this 
 veteran scapegrace, would have found it by no means easy to escape 
 from liis society, even had he felt disposed to venture on attempting 
 the feat. So well was the young Highlander acquainted with the 
 probabilities in this particular, that he resolved to leave it unat- 
 tempted ; and having, by especial and all but unhoped-for good luck, 
 managed, though in company with his unhesitating friend, to pass 
 two days and nights without coming to any serious bodily harm, he 
 began to feel it incumbent on him to return thanks for his preserva- 
 tion, and to prepare for his approaching departure from the " city of 
 delights." 
 
 Before De Mesmai could be induced to allow himself to be per- 
 suaded of the necessity of even the last of these proceedings, he 
 insisted on a visit to the Baron de Clappourknuis, who, he averred, 
 had made his peace with the new ministry, kissed the hand of Louis 
 XYIIL, burned his commission from Napoleon, and resided quietly 
 at the venerable Hotel de Clugny. 
 
 " This cunning old grey-beard and I took different sides in the last 
 uproar," said the captain, as they walked along. " He went with. 
 Louis to Ghent ! while I, as in duty bound, joined — But I had 
 better say nothing more. We are now in the streets of Paris, where 
 every second man is either a jack-booted gendarme or a villainous 
 government spy. Monsieur le Baron saved his dirty acres by this 
 policy, while I narrowly lost mine and the old house of Quinsay li with 
 its ruined hall, where a colony of rooks, bats, and owls, have been 
 comfortably quartered for more than twenty years. Clappourknuis 
 is as little enamoured of campaigning as I am of his crack-jaw name. 
 No, by the bomb ! had he loved the flash of bright steel and the 
 clank of accoutrements, he would have joined the Emperor on his 
 quitting Elba. And yet I once beheld him charge bravely at the 
 head of a regiment of Polish lancers. They were attacking a solid 
 square of the regiment of Segovia ; and it was a splendid sight to 
 behold them, as they swept past the flank of the cuirassiers in line. 
 At the first blast of the trumpet, their thousand lances sunk at once 
 to the rest, their bright heads flashing like a shower of falling stars : 
 and the next moment they were riding into the mass of terrified 
 Spaniards, as one would ride through a river. But he has hung his 
 
THE SOMANCE CF WAE. 477 
 
 sabre on the wall, and now reposes in the ancient hotel, basking in 
 the smiles of the fair Diane, and snugly ensconced under the shadow 
 of liis laurels, which, by the bye, are very likely to grow into other 
 ornaments less agreeable to his martial brow, if he does not look a 
 little sharper after Madame." 
 
 "I told you of my adventure with her on the Pyrenees." 
 
 " Yes ; you will be a welcome friend, unless the story has roused 
 some unpleasant surmises in the mind of the baron, who is rather 
 inclined to be suspicious, although his pate is so thick that we con- 
 sidered it sabre-proof in the ' JJevil's Own.' I know that he looks 
 upon me with eyes the reverse of friendly. Parhleu ! what care I ? 
 Madame Diane behaves to me with remarkable attention. Ha ! my 
 friend, you see what it is to have a name : all the women of Paris 
 either love or fear me. While Monsieur le Baron sits in a corner, 
 moping and growling over his swaddled and gouty leg, I draw my 
 chair beside Madame at the harp, and sit turning over the leaves of 
 her music, exchanging soft glances, and saying things quite as soft 
 between. She is an amazingly fine creature, although she jilted so 
 cruelly poor Victor d'Estouville of the Imperial Guard." 
 
 " If this is the footing on which you visit the Hotel de Clugny, I 
 think I could scarcely have chosen a more unlucky companion for 
 my morning call." 
 
 '■' Fardieu ! Monsieur, this is Paris, where no husband of sense 
 makes himself in the least uneasy about the intrigues of his wife, and 
 I should wish to teach old Clappourknuis a lesson. Ho was twelve 
 mouths a prisoner in England, where he picked up some of the 
 strangest notions in the world about conjugal fidelity and other 
 matters, which, in Prance, we know only by name. He must now 
 pay the penalty of marrying a giddy creature, young enough to be 
 Ills grand-daughter. We have a proverb among us, mon ami, which 
 says, ' Beware of women, of fire, of water, and the regiment de 
 Sault.' Now I am ready to demonstrate to you logically, that the 
 first part of that proverb — But, poh ! here is the residence of 
 Monsieur le Baron. Fardieu 1 a strange old rookery it is; and yet 
 he admires it, because it is the oldest house in Paris." 
 
 Passing through an archway, they found themselves in an irregular 
 sort of quadrangle, formed by buildings in a very ancient style of 
 architecture, with mullioned windows, Gothic cusps and pinnacles, 
 casements on the roof, two octagon towers projecting into the court, 
 and one circular turret, which was built out from the wall, and shot 
 up to a great height above the others. Numerous coats of arms and 
 initial letters appeared above the doors and windows, and an antique 
 fountain sparkled and murmured in a corner of the court, with a 
 drooping tree spreading its branches over the stone basin into which 
 the water fell. There ^^'as an appearance of picturesque and gloomy 
 grandeur about the place, but there was likewise an an- of desolation 
 and decay without, Avhich did not correspond with the rich hangings 
 and furniture that appeared through the open Avindows ; while the 
 bustle which pervaded the court and passages showed that the house 
 was occupied by a large estabhshment. 
 
 " A strange old place, this,' 
 
 " Diable I yes ; a gloomy old bomb-house, fit only for the bat and 
 the owl. And yet 'tis here the baron keeps Madame Diane, one of 
 the gayest women within the gay and glorious circle of the Boule- 
 vards. 'Tis the ChSlteau de Clugny ; but for Heaven's sake and our 
 
 II. 2 I 
 
478 THE nOSIANCE OF WAR 
 
 own, do not say anything about it to the baron, who has of late been 
 seized by a fit of antiquarianism, or we shall probably have the 
 %^hole history of it rehearsed, from the tune of Noah down to the 
 present day." 
 
 The baron was at home, and a servant announced their names. 
 
 He was not much changed in appearance since Eonald had seen 
 aim in Estremadura ; he looked as rough and weather-beaten as 
 ever, and sat in a gilded easy chair, rolled in a rich brocaded dressing- 
 gown, with one of his legs swaddled up in a multitude of bandages, 
 and resting upon a cushion. A small velvet forage-cap covered liis 
 CTcy hair, and half revealed a deep scar from a sabre-cut across the 
 forehead. 
 
 The apartment into which the visitors were shown was a splendid 
 old chamber, fitted up as a library ; and a softened light, wliich stole 
 through between the thick mullions and twisted tracery of two large 
 windows, cast the varied tints of the stained glass upon the long 
 shelves of richly-gilt but musty old books, on globes, on antique 
 swords and fragments of steel armour, on ancient chairs and deep- 
 red hangings, on spurs and helmets, and on rolls and bundles of 
 papers, heaped and in confusion. The ceiling was covered with 
 stucco fret-work and gilding. Three large portraits were in the 
 room : these were likenesses of the famous Mississippi Law — as he 
 was styled ; of Beau Law, shot at the siege of Pondicherry, fighting 
 against the British; and of the Marquis of Laurieston, in his 
 uniform as a General of the Empire, covered with gold oak-leaves 
 and orders. 
 
 The Baron, whom they found immersed in the pages of a huge 
 and antique tome, threw it aside on their entrance, and bowed with 
 an air of politeness so constrained, that it was evident Captain De 
 i\Iesmai was far from being considered a w' elcome visitor. The con- 
 sciousness that he had such an introducer made Stuart feel rather 
 uncomfortable, but De Mesmai's consummate effrontery caused bir^i 
 to value the baron's coldness not a rush. A piano, which stood at 
 one end of the room, was closed. The young baroness was not then 
 at home. 
 
 " Monsieur le Ba/ron^' said the captain, placing his cap under his 
 arm, and leading forward Stuart, "allow me to introduce Major Stuart, 
 an officer of a Scots regiment, and a very particular friend of mine, 
 who has come to pay you a visit before marching for Calais to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " JEh Men ! " said the baron, extonding his hand, and raising his 
 eyebrows. " I am very happy to see Monsieur Stuart ; his name is 
 one for which I have a very gi'eat respect. " But," he added with a 
 smile, " you give him a bad recommendation in saying he is a 'par- 
 ticular friend' of yours. Eemember, you are considered the greatest 
 roue and hbertine that Paris contains, — between the Champ de Mars 
 and La Eoquette." 
 
 "Pardieur 
 
 " In truth, you are a very sad fellow," continued the baron, while 
 a servant placed chairs for the visitors. " Tour name is on every 
 man's tongue." 
 
 " And woman's too." 
 
 " "Worse still. Ay, Maurice, in Massena's corps we considered you 
 no apostle. But draw your chairs nearer to the fire ; 'tis cold this 
 morning. An d here, you Monsieur Jacques," addressing the servant 
 
THE ROMANCE OF Vv'AR. 479 
 
 "briKg a couple of logs for the fire, and place the glasses and decan- 
 ters on the table." 
 
 A smoky wood fire blazed in a large basket or grate of brass and 
 iron-work placed on the hearthstone : above it rose the arch of an 
 antique mantel-piece. The square space around the grate was 
 covered with small diamond-shaped pieces of Delft ware, which were 
 neatly joined together, and reflected the light and heat. 
 
 " Monsieur le Baron will remember that I have not had the plea- 
 sure of seeing him since we were last together in Spanish Estrema- 
 dura," said llonald, "at Almendralejo, or Villa Pranca, I think." 
 
 "Indeed, monsieur!" replied the old man, bowing. "Ah, misS' 
 ricorde! I was a prisoner then. You must excuse me; but I 
 have seen so many places and faces, that if I do not exactly 
 remember — " 
 
 "I am the officer who shared his ration-biscuit with you one 
 morning at Merida, vrhen the troops were so scant of provisions." 
 
 " What ! Mon Dleu !" cried the old soldier, grasping him ener- 
 getically by both hands, " are you that officer?" 
 
 " I am the same, monsieur." 
 
 '■ How happy I am to have yoii here in Paris, — in my own house, 
 that I may repay you — at least, as far as hospitality can — for the 
 bestowal of that half-biscuit, wet and mouldy as it was from being 
 carried — " 
 
 " A forty miles' march in a wet havresack. I was about to take 
 command of an out-lying picquet, and the biscuit was my first ration 
 for three consecutive days." 
 
 "Ay, my friends," said De Mesmai, with unusual gravity, while- 
 he filled up the glasses, " those were stirring times, when one might 
 !?ee true soldiering." 
 
 " I well remember the moraing," continued the baron ; '"' and very 
 disconsolate fellows your picquet seemed, as they marched by the 
 light of the grey dawn along the muddy Plaza, with their muskets 
 slung, and their feathers and great coats soaked in water, for the 
 rain was pouring down like a second deluge. On my honour, mon- 
 sieur ! I have often thought of the generous Scottish ofiicer and the 
 wet biscuit. I had been famishing for eight-and-forty-hours. Ah ! 
 'twas an interesting adventure that." 
 
 " Not so interesting by one half," said De Mesmai slowly, while a 
 "wicked smile lurked on his moustached mouth ; " not so singular by 
 one half as my friend's adventures with the baroness on the Pyre- 
 nees, after King Joseph's misfortunes at Vittoria. There is some- 
 thing very unique, quite romantic, in that story." 
 
 " Monsieur, was it you who — " 
 
 Stuart began to murmur something about having " had the plea- 
 sure to be of some service to the baroness — " 
 
 " I have heard of it," said the baron. " Oh, monsieur, you quite 
 overpower me with your services. How shall we ever repay you ! " 
 
 " I was merely instrumental. The officer who had the honour to 
 escort the baroness to Gazan's outposts was killed soon afterwards;, 
 when Soult forced the passes." 
 
 " On the 25th. Twenty devils ! I was there," said the baron, turn- 
 mg up his eyes. " Bloody work it was, and your mountaineers 
 defended the hills' with a valour bordering on madness. Your health ! 
 monsieur. 'Tis plain vin ordinaire, this ; I am restricted to its use, 
 but the decanter next you contains Lafitie." 
 
 2 I 2 
 
4S0 THE HOMANCE OF TTAE. 
 
 " 1 -will take Lofdte, ^vith your permission." 
 
 The baron bowed. 
 
 " Vire PEmperenr /" muttered De Mesmai as he raised his glass, 
 ■^hile the baron held up one finger Avarningly, and cast a furtive 
 ylance at the door. " I pray to Heaven," continued the captain, 
 Avhom some old recollections had excited, " that the violet may return 
 to France in the spring." He drank enthusiavStically. The baron 
 emptied his gla.ss in silence, and Ronald did the same, although he 
 knew that the violet meant Napoleon, who was knoAMi by that name 
 among his friends and adherents. 
 
 " '\Vell, Maurice ; I heard you were about to be married to a widow 
 with three streets, — old INIadame Berthollet, of the Eue de llivoli,'* 
 said the baron. '" Or perhaps you are already married ? '' 
 
 "Diable ! monsieur," said De Mesmai, incUgnantly , "do J look like 
 a married man ?" 
 
 " I know not, Z'.Iaurice ; but I imagine that the gay old lady would 
 have little reason to rejoice in her domestic speculation. ^ You are 
 the best man in Paris to make her golden Louis and Napoleons 
 vanish like frost in the sunshine. And so, monsieur," addressing 
 Stuart, " your regiment marches to-morrow ? '" 
 
 " For Calais, via. ]\Iontfort, where we shall be joined by two other 
 Scottish regiments, which are also under orders for home." 
 
 " A good voyage to the gallant Scots ! as our fashionable song 
 says," replied the baron, emptying his glass. 
 
 ■' Excellent ! " ci'ied Be Mesmai, before Stuart could thank the 
 baron : '" and I hope that Madame will soon return, as I wish very 
 much to hear her perform that piece on the piano. ]Madame 
 Eerthollet— " 
 
 " Of the Eue de Eivoli?" interrupted the baron. 
 
 " — Informed me that her style excels the most celebrated masters 
 in Paris." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the baron coldly, but bowing to De IMesmai, whom 
 he heartily washed at the bottom of the sea, or any other place than 
 the Chateau de Clugny, where his visit had now extended to twice 
 the usual time of a morning call. 
 
 " By the bomb ! here comes Madame !" said the ci-devant cuiras- 
 sier, as a carriage drove into the court. " Monsieur le Baron must 
 allow me the honour — " 
 
 He snatched up his cap and vanished from the room, while the 
 featm-es of the invalid assumed a most vinegar aspect of anger and 
 uneasiness, which he attempted to conceal from Eonald by convers- 
 ing about the weather and other trivial matters. Meanwhile the 
 captain, with all the air of a true French gallant, assisted the baroness 
 to ahght, and led her into the house. They were long in ascending 
 the staircase, and the baron's face grew alternately red and white, 
 while he fidgeted strangely in his easy chair. At last a servant 
 opened the door of the room, and the handsome captain, with his 
 right hand ungloved, led forward Madame, who, as she swept in Avith 
 her long rustling skirt, and with the feathers of her bonnet droop- 
 ing over a rich shawl, appeared a very dashing figure, quite a woman 
 of ton, and possessing all that indescribable je ne sais qtioi of face 
 and figure, which are wholly the attributes of what the Scots call 
 " gentle blood," and which never can be attained by the vulgar. 
 Her morning drive on tlie Boulevards, the exercise of ascending the 
 steep old stairs of the hotel, and perhaps fi sensation of pleasure at 
 meeting w\i\\ De Mesmai, had heightened the glow of her cheeks. 
 
THE RO.^IANCE OF WAR. 481 
 
 and a rich bloom suffused tliom. Her eyes were sparkling with 
 French vivacity, and she looked radiantly beautiful. 
 
 "Eh! monsieur, my dear friend!" cried she, springing towards 
 Stuart with the bird-like step of a Parisian lady. " How happy, oh ! 
 how very happy I am to see you here ! I would ^ive you a pretty 
 kiss, if I dared. But pray, monsieur, be seated ; and here, De Mesmai, 
 help me off with my things." 
 
 How, madame, do you recognise me after so long a lapse of time, 
 and after such a very short interview ? One at night, — by a picquet 
 fire, too?" 
 
 "De Mesmai told me you were here," said she, as that adroit 
 cavalier removed her bonnet and shawl, and even adjusted her hair, 
 which was braided above her forehead and fastened behind with a 
 pearl-studded comb a la Grec. The soldier laid aside the bonnet, 
 arranged the veil, and folded the collar and shawl with so much 
 the air of afemme de chambre, that Stuart could with difficulty re- 
 press a smile ; but to the lady and her husband it appeared nothing 
 unusual. 
 
 " The baroness is a fashionable beauty, certainljV thought the 
 wondering Scot ; " but my v.ife will not be a French woman, thank 
 Heaven ! " 
 
 " That will do, Maurice," said the lady, freely and easily ; " that 
 will do, I thank you. Mon Dieu ! I shall never wear that horrid 
 shawl any more ; mantelets of satin, laced and furred, are becoming 
 all the rage. Maurice, I know you have quite the eye of a modeste ; 
 tell me, don't you think that a mantelet will become me ?" 
 
 "Madame would appear superb in anything," replied the other 
 without hesitation, but bowing low while he spoke. 
 
 " Oh, Maurice, you are getting quite commonplace. But I sup- 
 pose it will become me as well as the venerable Berthoilet of the 
 Jiue de Rivoli." 
 
 "Doubtless, madame," replied the guardsman composedly ; while, 
 without noticing her roguish look, he handed her a gla>ss of wine. 
 
 " And here, this dear naughty husband of mine asks me not a 
 single question about my morning airing," said Madame, as she 
 sprang up and arranged the cushions at the old man's back. 
 " Maurice, help me to punch these pillows. Monsieur the baron ha.s 
 been poring over some musty old book till he has been quite over- 
 come with ennui, I sui)pose. Mon Dieu ! Avhat a horrid thing it is 
 to become an antiquary ! " she continued, as she turned up her fine 
 eyes, and shrugged her fair shoulders. " Do you know. Monsieur 
 Stuart, that ever since the baron became a member of the Comite 
 Sistorique des Arts et Monumens, he has been like a man 
 bewitched ! " 
 
 The attention of his beautiful wife restored the old man's urbanity 
 and good humour, and when the baroness pressed the visitors to 
 remain to dinner, he seconded her invitation, and they stayed. 
 
 Stuart had reason to regret that they did so, for De Mesmai's folly 
 brought about a very disagreeable termination to the visit. 
 
 After much common-place conversation, he requested the baroness 
 to favour them Avith the fashionable air then so much in vogue, and 
 she at once acceded. The old baron was quite charmed with his 
 wife's performance, and, closing his eyes, beat time with his fingers 
 on a worm-eaten volume of Pierre de-daimbourg : but his triumph 
 was somewhat soured by the presence of De Mesmai, v,ho seated 
 
482 THE EOM.ANCE OF WAS. 
 
 hunsi i' close by Diane for tlie purpose of turning over the leaves, 
 and he seemed quite in raptures with her. Stuart likewise was 
 much pleased, for the soft tones of her voice were delightful to hear, 
 and his patriotism was roused and his pride flattered by the words or 
 the song,—" A good A^oyage to the gallant Scots." It was a quick 
 and hvely air, and had been lirst adopted by the garde-du-corps and 
 other troops of Louis XVIII., after which it rapidly became popular : 
 the ladies sounded it forth from their harps and pianos, the dandies 
 hummed it on the Boulevards, the boys whistled it in the streets, 
 and the grisettes sung it at their work ; and, from reveille to tattoo 
 scarcely any other tune w^as heard in the camps, barracks, and can- 
 tonments. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXI. 
 
 A CATASTEOPHE. 
 
 " Ah, madame ! " exclaimed De Mesmai, whom experience among 
 his countrywomen had taught that the dose of flattery could never 
 be too strong for them, " how much we are indebted to you. Such 
 brilliancy of instrumental execution, and such a voice ! My friend. 
 Major Stuart, will allow — or rather will be compelled to admit — that 
 you far excel any other singer he has ever heard in Paris, Lisbon, or 
 Madrid ?" 
 
 Although this was not strictly true, Honald of course replied in 
 the affirmative. There is no flattery which can be too pointed for a 
 Parlsienne, who can hear, as mere matters of course, such observa- 
 tions as would bring the red blood rushing into the fair face of an 
 English lady. 
 
 De Mesmai engrossed to himself nearly the whole conversation of 
 the baroness, and they chatted away, with amazing volubility and 
 merriment, on such light matters as the marriages, intrigues, and 
 flirtations of one-half of Paris,— the fashionable part at least,— wliile 
 the petulant baron, after various ineffectual attempts to interrupt their 
 interesting tete-d-Ute, abandoned the idea of doing so ; and, while re- 
 connoitring their position -^vith watchful eyes, and listening with open 
 ears, he gave Stuart a very long and veiy tiresome account of the 
 learned society, to the affairs of which, since the peace of 1814, he 
 had devoted his whole attention. 
 
 Be Mesmai and the lady, or, to speak more correctly, the lady and 
 Pe Mesmai, were seated on an opposite sofa, and so close, that their 
 dark hair alinost mingled together,— tliis, too, before the eyes of the 
 baron. They conversed in a low tone, which every instant swelled 
 out into a laugh ; and such glances of deep and hidden meaning were 
 exchanged, that, had they been observed, they would have entirely 
 discomposed old Clappourknuis's antiquarian discussions about ruins, 
 medals, coins, MSS., &c. &c. Stuart thought his friend a very odd 
 fellow, and certainly the free manners of the baroness did not 
 heighten his opinion of Parisian wives. 
 
 I)inner was served up in excellent style, but what it consisted of 
 has nothing to do mth this history. There were enough and to 
 spare of wonderful French dishes, which the Highlander had never 
 seen before, and probably has never heard of since. Stuart having 
 led the baroness to the dining-room, De jSIesmai led her back again 
 
THE nOMANCE OF WAR. 483 
 
 to the library, falling into the rear of the baron, who was borne 
 thither in his arm-chair by six stout valets, -mill his gouty leg pro- 
 jecting like a bowsprit. In this trim, as host, he led the way Irom 
 the table. CofFec and wine were awaiting them in the library, which 
 was lighted up with wax candles placed in antique candelabras. The 
 crimson curtains were d^a^^'n, and a cheerful fire blazed on the hearth 
 and roared up the wide chimney. The old gilt volumes on the shelves, 
 the steel arms and armour, the splendid picture-frames, the vvine 
 decanters, the silver coffee equipage, and everything else of metal or 
 crystal, glittered in the ruddy light, and the baron's library appeared 
 the most snug place imaginable. 
 
 Stuart, who had been accustomed to sit long at the mess-table, — 
 rather a failing with the valiant ninety-twa, — was unable to adopt 
 the foreign custom of taking coS'ee immediately after dinner. He 
 therefore joined the baron in paying attention to a decanter of light 
 Prench wine ; but De Mesmai sippbd the simple beverage, seated by 
 Madame at a side-table, where the coffee was served up, and his 
 attentions became so very particular and decided, that in any house 
 in Britain they must have insured his exit by the window instead of 
 the door. But the baron, although a very jealous husband, was a 
 frenchman, and consequently did not perceive anything very heinous 
 in the attention paid to his Avife by the gay guardsman ; yet he would 
 rather have seen him lying at full length in the Morgue, than seated 
 at the little side-table with the baroness. 
 
 But Monsieur le Baron having dined to his entire satisfaction, was 
 rather inclined to be in a good humour, and, after a time, he was 
 obliging enough to place the high stuffed_ back of his easy chair 
 between himself and the tete-d-Ute which his gay lady enjoyed with 
 lier still gayer cavalier. 
 
 Einding that Stuart was conversant with Fh'e d' Orleans, the Sis- 
 foire des Croisades of Pierre de Maimbourg, and other old autnors, 
 — thanks to the taivse of his dominie, the old minister of Lochisla, — 
 the baron resolved to make a victim of him for the remainder of the 
 evening, and bored him most unmercifully vAth long antiquarian 
 and archaeological disquisitions, which -were varied only by still more 
 tedious accounts of his campaigns under Napoleon. 
 
 He spent an hour in detailing enthusiastically the services and 
 deeds of the Scots Guards in France, from the time that Alex- 
 ander III. sent them to Saint Lewis for service in the Holy Land, 
 down to the battle of Pavia, where the Scottish corps threw them- 
 selves into a circle around Prancis I., and he was not captured by the 
 enemy till only four of that brave band were left alive. 
 
 "And we are told in this book," continued the prosy haron, laying 
 his hand on a mighty tome of Philip de Comines ; " we are told in 
 this book that the life of Louis XI., when he was attacked by the 
 rebellious Burgundians at Liege, was saved solely by the valour of 
 the Scots Guards, who formed a rampart around him till the Bur- 
 gundians were defeated," 
 
 " Morhleu ! monsieur," said De Mesmai, who now joined them, as 
 the baroness had withdrawn, "the story of the duel between the 
 Sieur de Vivancourt, of the regiment of Picardie, and the Scots 
 Hoyal, is worth all that you will find in Philip— Philip— i^e.v^e ,' I 
 have forgotten his name. But I will wager a hundred Napoleons to 
 one, that he docs not relate a story by one-half so good as that which 
 I have heard from you, of the unplea-saut manner in which the 
 
4S4 THE EOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 English widow of ]\Ionsieur of France, Louis XII,, was surprised 
 in a ttte-a-tete mth the Duke of Suffolk, in this very apartment, by 
 the furious Duke de Valois, who compelled her to marry Suffolk 
 upon the very instant, — ay, pardieu ! at the very drum-head, as the 
 saying is." 
 
 Certain associations occurring to the baron's mind made him 
 colour, as he raised his eyes from his flannel-cased legs to the tall, 
 erect, and soldierlike figure of De Mesmai, He glanced furtively at 
 the cnair of the baroness, but it was empty. 
 
 " Ay, Maurice, 'twas a strange affair that ; but Monsieur of Yalois 
 should have given the English duke a year or two's residence in the 
 Bastile for his presumption. The stone cages of Louis XL were then 
 in good condition, and should always have been tenanted by such 
 blades as Monsieur of Suffolk," 
 
 " You are very savage in disposition, monsieur, to talk of punishing^ 
 so slight a faux pas so severely. But you will allow that a little 
 gallantry is excusable here in our sunny clime of Erance," The old 
 man glanced keenly at the swaggering guardsman, and saw a strange 
 smile on his face, " A comfortable place this, faith ! " he contin aed ;. 
 "and if these old walls could speak, they would tell strange tales of 
 hatred and sorrow, joy and grief. 3Iany a fair one's scruples have 
 been routed by the conp-de-main of the stout gallants of the olden, 
 time. Monsieur le Baron must know that our friend Stuart admires 
 this old house of Clugny amazingly. You cannot conceive the sensa- 
 tions of pleasure ^vith which he viewed that gloomy court." 
 
 These last observations Avere made by De Mesmai to serve an end 
 of his own. It was the baron's hobby to have his house praised, and 
 in return he invariably bored his visitors with a prolix account of it. 
 Having, as he supposed, set fire to the train, De Mesmai retired to 
 promenade in the garden with INIadame, while her husband plunged 
 at once into the history of the Hotel de Clugny. He began with the 
 time when its site was occupied by the palace of the Boman emperors 
 in Gaul, the Falutium Thermarum, erected a.d. 300, from which date 
 he traced its liistory do\\Ta to Clovis, the founder of the French 
 monarch}', thence to the time of Philip Augustus, who in 121S be- 
 stowed it on one of his chamberlains. On the site of the Palatium 
 Thermarum the Abbot of Clugny built the present hotel, which w;as 
 finished and completed, as it stands at present, by Jacques d'Amboise- 
 in 1505. James V. of Scotland resided in it fojr some months after 
 his marriage "v^ith the beautiful and unfortunate Madeline of France. 
 From that period the indefatigable baron related its vicissitudes, and 
 those of its several occupants, down to the days of the Bevolution. 
 He was just describing a celebrated conclave of that revolutionary 
 body, the section INIarat, who met in the apartment where they w^ere 
 then conversing, Avhen, on looking round, he became suddenly aware 
 that the baroness and De Mesmai were both absent. He changed 
 colour, stopped in his history, and became much disturbed, 
 
 " Mon ami 1" said he, " where is the Captain de Mesmai ? " ^ 
 
 " I know not," said Stuart, looking round with surprise, and miss- 
 ing him for the first time. " He was here a moment since, and I did 
 not see him leave the room," 
 
 " Liable ! " growled the baron, grmding his teeth, 
 
 "He is probably in the garden enjoying a cigar, I observed hini' 
 take from his pooket the silver case which he carries." 
 
THE KOMAlfCE OF WAK. 483 
 
 " A silver case ? Pooh ! he got that from the baroness." 
 
 " A handsome present." • 
 
 " Ah ! she gained it at some lottery in the Palais lioyal," said the 
 poor baron, making a desperate attempt to converse I'reely, while he 
 run" a small hand-bell. " Attendez, Jacques ; tell Madame avc should 
 be glad to have the honour of her company, because Monsieur Stuart 
 marches to-morrow, and — Ha ! ha ! what am 1 saying ? You 
 understand — be quick, Jacques," he cried to the valet, who had 
 appeared at his summons. She is either in her own apartment, or 
 income of the lower drawing-rooms." 
 
 His suspicions were still further aroused. Jacques returned in 
 three minutes, saying that Madame could not be found ; that sli<j 
 must have left the hotel, or be promenading in the garden. 
 
 " Mon Bieii !" roared the impetuous baron, gnashing his teeth at 
 the astonished valet. " Leave the room, rascal ! What are you 
 staring at ? I am undone ! Hand the case, monsieur ; these pistols — 
 they are loaded. They are together — I knew it— in the garden. 
 Sucre ! I have long expected something of this kind. An assigna- 
 ■jion ! the base minion ! the worthless rihaud ! I will have his 
 blood ! I will rip him up with my sabre ! Tete Bieu ! am I to be 
 disgraced in my own house ? Ha, ha ! ho, ho ! " and he laughed 
 like a madman. 
 
 Stuart rose, feeling all the confusion and astonishment which a 
 visitor might be supposed to experience at such a juncture. The baron 
 seemed bursting with rage, and rolled about among the pillows of 
 his easy-chair, making fruitless efforts to raise himself upon his 
 gouty limbs ; and he raved and swore in the mean time like a maniac. 
 At last, in the extremity of his distress, he implored Ronald to see if 
 they were in the garden. 
 
 " How very foolish he is making himself appear," thought Ronald, 
 as he descended the lighted stair, laughing at the ludicrous aspect of 
 the baron in his cap, gown, and bandaged legs, and his red weather- 
 beaten visage flaming with the fury and exasperation into which he 
 had lashed himself. Descending a stair in one of the octagon 
 towers, he found himself in the garden. The night was very dark, 
 the air was cold, and the trees, shrubbery, and bowers api)eared to 
 be involved in the deepest gloom. The darkness seemed greater, in 
 consequence of his having j\ist left the brilliantly-illuminated 
 library, where old Clappourknuis sat growling like a bear with pain 
 and anger. A curtain was drawn back from one of the windows of 
 the hotel, and a stream of light falling across a walk of the garden, 
 revealed the figure of a female. It was the baroness, and Stuart 
 advanced to meet her. feeling considerable reluctance to announce 
 the rage, or hint at the suspicions, of her husband. His cogitations 
 were cut short by the lady springing forward, and throwing herself 
 into his arms. 
 
 " Maurice, mon cTier ami ! how long you have kept me waiting," 
 she exclaimed, in a loud whisper. " I have been here on this dreary 
 walk nearly five minutes ; and indeed — but one kiss, dear Maurice ! 
 and then — Oh ! what is this ? You have no moustaches. Ah, mon 
 Dieu ! what have I done ? " 
 
 She had, when too late, discovered her mistake. At that moment 
 a window of the hbrary was dashed open, and the strange figure of 
 the unfortunate archaeologist appeared Avith a pistol in each hand. 
 
iSt THE BOMANCE CT i7iil. 
 
 threatening death and destruction to all. The light which shone 
 into the garden revealed the scene ou the walk, — the baroness 
 hanging on the breast of Stuart, whom, as he was without his 
 bonnet and plaid, she had mistaken for De Mesmai in the scarlet 
 uniform of the garde-du-corps. Clai)pourknuis muttered a tre- 
 mendous malediction, and fired both pistols into the walk. Eonald 
 escaped death as narrowly as ever he did, even on any occasion in 
 Spain, and the lady was m equal peril. One ball struck from her 
 head the high comb which confined her hair, and the other whistled 
 within an inch of Stuart's nose ; after which it shattered a gigantic 
 flower-pot close by. Diane uttered a shriek, and fled hke a startled 
 hare from the garden ; and, gaining her own apartment, shut herself 
 up, and Stuart never lieheldlier again. 
 
 "Morbleu!" said the incorrigible De Mesmai, whom the destruc- 
 tion of the jar, and the consequent prostration of an immense 
 American aloe, had revealed. " 1 v/as just looking for the baroness 
 on the other side of the garden. Sac7'e ! 'tis a most unlucky as- 
 signation this, and broken heads must follow ! Ha ha ! how now, 
 my most virtuous Scot, avIio will not dance vni\\ grisettes on Sunday, 
 and yet makes an assignation with a married lady in a garden, ana 
 at night ! Where are all your precepts and fine sayings ? Ho ! 
 ho ! ho ! Hark ! how the baron storms and blasphemes, like any 
 Cossack or Tagan ! " 
 
 "The fierce old madman!" exclaimed Eonald, enraged at his 
 narrow escape. " He was within a hair's-breadth of shooting me 
 through the head !" 
 
 " Rather unpleasant, after all your campaigning, to be shot in this 
 way, like a crow," replied the other, who was laughing so heartily 
 that he clung to an apple-tree for support. " How romantic ! A 
 touching interview in the dark, — the lady all sighs, and the gentleman 
 all animation ! Ey the bomb, 'tis superb ! What a pity there was 
 no moon ! A silvery moon would have made the whole afiair just 
 as it should have been. But then this unpleasant discharge of 
 small-arms — " 
 
 " Dare you attempt to lay the blame of this matter on me ? " 
 asked Eonald, indignantly. " You are alone the cause of all this 
 uproar. The baron has mistaken me for you." 
 
 " And the baroness has done the same. Didble /" 
 
 " What is to be done now ? " 
 
 " Eetreat viithout beat of drum, I suppose." 
 
 " That would show but poor spirit, I think." 
 
 " Jilh lien ! you are right. I ^vill show face. The baron is only 
 a man, and a man five feet high by six round the waist. I \rill brazen 
 it out, and swear by a caisson of devils 'tis all a mistake. I ^vill, by 
 the bomb ! and could do so in the presence of his JoUiness the 
 Pope. Vive la joie ! Come with me, my friend, and I will explain 
 all the uproar to this outrageous baron. I am used to squabbles of 
 this kind, and ^^all soothe his vivacity. Peste ! what a hideous noise 
 he makes!" 
 
 The baron had roared himself hoarse, and Jacques, vAih. five other 
 stout servants, had been barely able to keep him fiist in his arm-chair, 
 where he panted, kicked, and bellowed, swearing by everything in 
 heaven and on earth that he would pistol De ]\Iesmai, slay his wife, 
 and murder tL em all. He would get a lettre de cachet, — forgetting 
 ^hat the dayj of such matters had happily passed away, — ana 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 487 
 
 immure them all in tlie dungeons of the Bastile. He would rouse 
 the powers of darkness to revenge him ! At last a terrible lit of the 
 gout fairly stopped his clamour, and he was borne off to bed, 
 speechless and in imminent danger. The baroness appeared no 
 more, and De Mesmai, the cause of the whole disturbance, sat with 
 perfect nonchalayice, with his legs stretched out before the library 
 fire, a glass of wine in one hand and twirling a K^oustache with the 
 other, while swearing to Stuart by the bomb that ho had never heard 
 such an outcry before ! 
 
 " Positively, my friend," said he, " had I carried off the baroness 
 in a chaise and four, en route for Calais or Brussels, he could not 
 have made a greater noise. Peste I I believe I am entitled to demand 
 satisfaction for this annoyance. I shall certainly consult some of 
 ours to-morrow, and hear what ought to be done." 
 
 it was evident that they would see the baroness no more that 
 night, and the domestics of the establishment eyed them \vith 
 strange looks ; for though they were accustomed to the irascible 
 temper of the baron, they were puzzled to account for such a sudden 
 disturbance. 
 
 Stuart urged the impropriety of remaining longer, and they rose 
 to withdraw. He looked at his -watch : it was verging on midnight, 
 and it was requisite that he should return to Clichy forthwith, if he 
 would be with the regiment when under arms at daylight. On 
 leaving, they walked for some time along one of the Boulevards, 
 talking over the affair of the Hotel de Clugny. De Mesmai did not 
 attempt to exculpate himself, but laughed without ceremony at 
 Stuart, who made some animaaversions on his conduct. 
 
 " Tis all a matter of opinion," said he, shrugging his shoulders, 
 '■' all ; and you must know the proverb — L' opinion est la reine du 
 monde. 'Tis very true ; so let us say no more, my friend." 
 
 When near the Place Victoire, they parted. De Mesmai had 
 lodgings in one of the handsomest houses of the Place, although his 
 company of the garde-du-corps was always quartered at the chateau. 
 On taking leave, they shook hands heartily, and then parted, but 
 without exhibiting much concern, although each knew that he would 
 never meet the other again. But »s soldiers, accustomed for years 
 to march from town to town, they were used to partings, and so 
 bade each other adieu with happy sang froid. 
 
 Eonald never heard of De Mesmai again, and I am therefore 
 unable to acquaint the reader how he settled matters with the 
 baron, or if he married the fashionable widow of the Ivue de 
 Bivoii. 
 
 The streets were silent, and the night was dark. A cold and high 
 wind swept along the desolate thoroughfares, and had extinguished 
 many of the oil lamps, leaving many places involved in obscurity 
 and gloom. It is not surprising, therefore, that Stuart, should have 
 mistaken his way. The daAvn surprised him somewhere on the skirts 
 of the town, and he had, consequently, to traverse nearly the whole 
 of Paris to find the Champs Elysees. There he got his horse from 
 the batman, in whose charge it had been left, and in three minutes 
 he -^vas away at full gallop for Clichy. He dashed along the 
 Boulevard de la Madeline, the Eue de la- Martin, of St. Croix, and 
 Clichy, and soon the fields were around him, bordering the road, 
 while the spires and the streets of Paris were far behind, sinking in 
 the distance. 
 
488 THE BOMANCE OF WA^. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIL 
 
 THE HOMEWAED MAECH. 
 
 Fatigued with want of sleep, and almost noddin?: in his saddle, 
 Eouald reached the camp a little after sunrise. The Highlanders 
 were under arms, formed in line on the green sward between the 
 long streets of tents and the margin of the Seine. The ensigns had 
 uncased the yellow silk colours, the drummers were bracing up their 
 instruments, and Campbell sat motiohless on horseback at about 
 a hundred yards from the centre of the Ime, which he was survejang 
 with a watchful eye. He was looking very cross, so Stuart prepared 
 to be roived. 
 
 " A pretty fellow you are, Eonald, to keep the whole regiment 
 waiting in this manner ! We were just about to march without 
 you.-"' 
 
 Eonald made no reply, but dashed up at full gallop, raised his 
 hand to his bonnet, and then wheeling his charger round, backed 
 him upon his haunches, causing him to curvet and rear, that the 
 rider might display a little horsemanship, as he galloped round the 
 flank of the grenadiers and came up in his place on the left of the 
 line A\ ith his s-word drawn. As the band struck up, and the bat- 
 talion broke into sections of threes and moved off, a cheer burst 
 from the lips of every man, as a parting call to those comrades whom 
 they were to leave behind them. 
 
 Saint Germains was the first stage. They were quartered for the 
 night in the ancient palace, which had long been uninhabited and 
 empty, and was consequently^ hastening to decay. Eighty years 
 before, who could have imagmed that the residence of the exiled 
 Stuarts would have become the quarters of a Scottish regiment in 
 the British service, and plaided and plumed in the garb of the Gael ! 
 Who could have imagined that those desolate chambers, which had 
 been the scene of so many sorrows and troubles to the royal exiles, 
 would re-echo the strains of the heart-stirring pibroch ? But the 
 place was dreary, damp, and desolate. The court-yard was overgrown 
 with gi'ass, the gardens had become a wilderness, and the fountains 
 and ornamental stutues were in ruins, and covered with the moss of 
 years. Strange and old associations connected with the palace and 
 its inhabitants were awakened in the hearts of the Highlanders, and 
 Eonalddhu, when the pipers played the retreat in the quadrangle, 
 desired that it should be the ' Prince's Lament,' one of the most 
 difficult pieces of our pipe music. 
 
 To the officers and soldiers of the Gordon Highlanders, being 
 generally men from the most remote parts of the Highlands, the 
 empty palace of Saint Germains formed a scene of no common 
 interest. It was intimately connected with the misfortunes of that 
 illustrious race, " of which (says a modern writer) no man can trace 
 the beginning, and of which no Scotsman can bear to contemplate 
 the Old ; " and the kilted sons of the North, as they wandered about 
 its desolate chambers, made many observations which would have 
 startled honest old George III., and have caused the Horse-Guards 
 authorities to stand quite aghast, had they heard them. Although 
 
THE KOM^NCE OF WAK. 4^9 
 
 time, as it rolls on, is changing the manners of the Highlander and 
 of his Lowland neighbour, the same chivalric feeling which brought 
 forth the host of 1745, exists in the bosom of the former, and a spark 
 yet lingers there which little might fan into a flame. 
 
 Mereville was the next halt. At the gate of the town they were 
 received by a French regiment of royal volunteers, who had no 
 uniform, but wore their cross-belts, &c., over their peasants' blouses 
 of blue or white linen. They paid the compliments of war ni very 
 good style, while their band played the national anthem of Britain, 
 and the burghers of Mereville rent the air with shouts of applause. 
 At the barrier appeared the maire, arrayed in the garb of a past age 
 — a wide waistcoat and old-fashioned coat, with a silver-hilted sword 
 and ruffles, and a wig and queue. He invited the officers to a 
 dejeiine in the Hotel de Ville, where he made a long and flourishing 
 speech, descriptive of veneration for the British king and for the 
 Scottish people. He spoke of the field of Vernuil, where the Scot 
 and the Frenchman, drawing their sw^ords side by side, as brothers 
 and alhes, had tamed the pride of England. La belle Marie ! He 
 laid his hand on his heart, and became quite eloquent on the subject 
 of her wrongs and woes. He spoke of the alliances between the 
 houses of Stuart and Bourbon, and of the many years of exile which 
 the descendants from these marriages had spent in each other's 
 territories. 
 
 The worthy old fellow was so much in earnest, and so enthusiastic 
 on the occasion, that he even shed tears, struck himself a thousand 
 times on the breast, and shrugged his shoulders and turned up his 
 eyes quite as often. 
 
 Campbell replied in a short speech, v/hich he had prepared during 
 the long oration of Monsieur le Maire : but the good- will he gained 
 by the first part of his address, was entirely lost by some unlucky 
 after-allusion to the plains of Egypt and Sir Ralph Abercrombie. 
 
 From Mereville they marched to Montfort I'Aniaurj'^, a town 
 twenty-eight miles west of Paris, where they were to join the 4th 
 battaUon of the KoyaLs, and the 42nd Highlanders, ^?so under orders 
 for England. 
 
 At Beauvais, styled — because it has never been taken by force of 
 arms — La Pucelle, the 92nd, to their no small joy, received intelligence 
 that, on landing in England, their destination was to be the capital 
 of their native country, Avhere they were to be quartered for the 
 ensuing winter. 
 
 Within four days afterwards, the streets of Calais rang to the 
 notes of the pipe and drum, as the Scots brigade, on its homeward 
 march, passed through the city to the harbour, where a fleet of small 
 craft, provided by the authorities, lay in readiness to carry them 
 over the Passage of Calais, as the straits are named by the French. 
 The Cour de Guise, formerly the ancient English mint, was pointed 
 out to Stuart by a French stafl-oflicer, who rode beside him part of 
 the way. He also showed him the statue of the patriotic Saint 
 Pierre, which stands above the entrance of the to^vn-hall, with its 
 neck encircled by a rope — the emblem of Saint Pierre's heroism, and 
 of the obduracy of an English king. Many other places he pointed 
 out which Avould have been interesting to the mind of a South- 
 Tweeder, for often had the blulf English yeoman in his steel breast- 
 plate, and the strong-handed archer in his doublet of Lincoln-green, 
 kept watch and ward on the walls and towsjrs of Calais. 
 
490 THE llOilANCE OF -WAE. 
 
 As tho throe Seots regiments marched along the spacious quay 
 a tremendous cheer burst from them at the sight of the opposite 
 shore. The first view of old England, after a long absence, is worth 
 a myriad of the common-place adventures of life. The land of pro- 
 mise lay before them, but its shore seemed low and distant ; and its 
 chalky cliffs were shining white as snow in the morning sun, so pale 
 and dim, that they seemed more like the edge of a vast field of ice 
 than firm land. Every man strained his eyes towards it, and pointed 
 out to his comrades the spires and villages, which he imagined he 
 could trace through the dim haze that floated on the waters of the 
 Channel. Some gazed long and fixedly, with moistened eyes and 
 silent tongues. They thought of the land which lay five or six hun- 
 dred miles beyond the shore before them — the land of the rock and 
 the cataract, the broom and the heather — the land of their love and 
 best aliections, which had never been once absent from their minds 
 during all the danger, the toil, and the glory of the great Peninsular 
 war. 
 
 Poor Scotland ! although she has lost her name and her place 
 among nations, she is not the less dear to her sons. 
 
 The harbour of Calais presented a very animated scene. The frost 
 iiad passed away ; it was a w^arm, sunny morning, and everything 
 was bright and ghstening. From the great quay, two long wooden 
 piers jutted out into the water, which tossed and foamed around the 
 green and sea-weed-covered piles which compose them. 
 
 These piers were hned by two or three battalions of French infan- 
 try, and behind them were dense crowds of spectators. The French 
 flag was flying on the hejfroi, or watch-tower, of the Hotel de Tnie, 
 and on the bastions of all the little forte which defended the harbour. 
 The basin was crowded with the boats and craft for the conveyance 
 of the British troops, whom the French authorities were, no doubt, 
 very glad to get rid of. Several British man-o'-war boats were pull- 
 ing about in different directions. These had been sent by some of 
 our Channel cruisers to superintend the embarkation. 
 
 As Eonald rode down towards a flight of steps, to clear the way for 
 the regiment, a man-of-war's boat, manned by eight oars, came 
 sheering alongside the jetty. Stuart dismounted to speak with the 
 ofiicer, who siepped forward from the stern, and, abandoning the tiller 
 ropes, shook him heartily by the hand; while the crew, and the 
 crews of the other boats, pulled off their tarpaulin hats, and gave 
 three hearty cheers of welcome to the red-coats. The cheer was 
 taken up by the populace, and resounded along the quays; the 
 French bands struck up the favourite air, " A good voyage to thc- 
 gallant Scots," while the troops presented arms, and the officers 
 saluted with their swords. As older regiments than the Gordon 
 Highlanders, the Eoyal Scots and 42nd embarked first. About two 
 hundred men were in each barge, and, as they moved from the shore 
 by the aid of sail and sweep, their bands played the " Downfal of 
 Paris," an air which could not have been very pleasant in French 
 ears. With better taste, the band of the otlier regiment played 
 " Tlve Senri Quatre" the notes of which mingled oddly with those 
 of the bagpipes. The pipers of the whole brigade were seated in the 
 bows of the boats, blo\ving a perfect storm of wild and discordani 
 sounds. 
 
 The harbour, the shore, the crowded quays, receded and less^nea ; 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 491 
 
 the cheers of the people died away, but the sharp rattle of the brass 
 drums was still heard, and arms were seen glittering on the beach. 
 The French troops were wheeling into open column, and marching 
 through the gate of Calais, which faced the water. As the last sec- 
 tion filed through, Eonald looked back for an instant. He saw the 
 flash of French steel for the last time. Save himself, scarcely one 
 had cast a look astern ; it was to the increasing shores of England 
 that every eye was directed. 
 
 They were soon far out in the Channel, amid fleets of merchant- 
 men and stately ships of war. There is nothing which brings the 
 power, the might, and the majesty of Britain so vividly before the 
 mind, as the splendid appearance of her ships of war. There is 
 a something in the aspect of the formidable row of cannon frowning 
 from the red ports, and the flag that waves above them, which a 
 Briton never can behold without pride, and a foreigner without 
 terror, chagrin, and humiliation. 
 
 On clearing the harbour of Calais, and getting fairly out into the 
 Straits of Dover among the shipping, the French airs gave place to 
 " Hearts of Oak," and other national strains ; and the cheers with 
 which the crew of every vessel they passed, merchantman or ship of 
 war, greeted the homeward-bound fleet of decked boats with their 
 military freight, aflbrded the utmost delight to the latter. These 
 hearty welcomes from their couutrjinen on the sea, were but an 
 earnest of what they were to receive on the land. 
 
 The long and glorious struggle in the Peninsula, the victorious 
 termination of the short but most decisive campaign in Flanders, 
 and the results, so important to Europe, of the victory of Waterloo, 
 were yet fresh in every man's mind, and the people of Britain 
 yearned to show their love for their countrymen who v.-ere now re- 
 turning, after having proved themselves the first troops in the world. 
 
 It v.as lucky for this brigade of Scots that they returned so soon 
 after Waterloo. Had those three thousand men fought and gained 
 the battle alone, it is impossible that greater admiration or applause 
 could have been lavished upon them. 
 
 The shore increased in magnitude, seeming to rise from the water, 
 and objects became more distinct. The wide extent of yellow sandy 
 beach, the chalky clifls, the light-houses, the buoys, were seen dis- 
 tinctly, and the flags of all the world were flying around them. The 
 little fleetof galleys moved bravely; alight breeze bore them onward, 
 and every stitch of canvas was set. The shore soon seemed close at 
 hand. The old village spires, overhung with ivj', the laAvns, the 
 castles, the seats, and everything, from the black old towers of Dover 
 to the boats on the golden beach below, were all remarked and ob- 
 served as objects of wonder. 
 
 " First on the .shore ! Hoich ! " cried a Highlander, plunging into 
 the water as the boats, containing some of the 42nd, grounded near 
 the beach. " Hurrah ! " was the cry, and a hundred eager fellows 
 leaped overboard, knapsacks, accoutrements, and everytliing; and, 
 with their kilts and sporrans floating on the surface of the water, 
 waded ashore, while shouts of welcome rose from a crowd of the 
 Dover people collected on the sands. The boats containing the 
 ivoyals and part of the Gordon Highlanders, took the matter more 
 "cannily," and, entering the harbour, landed their military passen- 
 gers on the i>wv, where a gentleman stepped forth from the immen.«»o 
 
402 THE BOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 'joncours3 assembled to witness the disembarkation, and formally 
 welcomed them to England ; he then waved his hat as a signal to 
 the people, and three hearty cheers were given, with one more foi* 
 the JDuke of AVelhngton. 
 
 All the craft in the harbour were decorated with flags and boughs 
 of trees; standards and ribbons waved from every house-top and 
 window. The Waterloo _ medal, glancing on the breast of every 
 purple coat, attracted universal attention : the people were excited 
 to the utmost pitch of enthusiasm and loyalty, and every proud 
 feeling that is .truly British was at its height. Each man vied witli 
 the other in the endeavour to show the esteem he felt for those 
 whose deeds had been attracting the attention of the whole civilized 
 world, and whose arms had arrested a torrent which once threatened 
 to subvert every state in Europe. The brigade vras billeted for that 
 night in Dover. 
 
 " Now theiT. gentlemen, here we are at last, in merry old Eng- 
 land," cried Campbell, in boisterous glee, as, with liis officers, he 
 ascended the well-carpeted staircase of a handsome hotel in Dover. 
 " Welcome roast beef and plum-pudding, with other substantials, 
 and a long farewell to castanos and garhc, to soup-maigre, 'potage au 
 chou, and the devil's broth. If the people Avould only grow wise 
 and hang up all the limbs of the law, England would be the happiest 
 laud on earth. Look around you, gentlemen ; here is comfort ! 
 Think on the wet tent, and the wetter bivouac ! But good bye to 
 them all ! for awhile at least." 
 
 The master of the hotel ushered them into a splendid drawing- 
 room, where the appearance of the rich carpet, and the coal fire 
 blazing in the polished grate, attracted so much attention, and drew 
 forth such encomiums, that mine host of the St. George marvelled 
 in what part of the earth they had been campaigning. He knew 
 not that a coal fire and a carpet are almost unknown on the Con- 
 tinent. 
 
 " W^e have been for some time strangers to this kind of luxury, 
 landlord," said Ronald, observing his wonder. " Our couch and our 
 carpet has long been the green sod, and our covering the sky, for 
 many a year." 
 
 " England, merry old England ! " exclaimed Campbell, throvring 
 himself into a chair, and stretching his long legs across the hearth- 
 rug. " In spite ci all that demagogues may say to the contrary, I 
 will uphold that ii is the hajDpiest country in Europe ; and, as we 
 have seen the most of them, we should be good judges. This is ex- 
 cellent ! It reminds me of our return from Egji^t. jS'ovr then, 
 monsieur — pardon me, landlord : I forgot I was out of the land of 
 Johnny Crapaud. Ay, landlord, there is something truly British 
 and hospitable in that. Let us have the best dinner you can get 
 ready on the shortest notice ; and tell the cooks they need not be 
 very particular, as we have not tasted a decent dinner since we 
 landed below the castle of Belem in 1809, a few months in Paddy^s 
 land excepted. Let it be prepared forth^\ith, and remember to pro- 
 vide lots of pudding for the ensigns." 
 
 After dinner, the inhabitants of the hotel were astounded by the 
 ceremony of piping round the table, a practice which, since dinners 
 had become common ^rith them, the Gordon Highlanders had re- 
 vived in full force. As soon as the dessert was removed, tall Eonald« 
 
THE EOilAXCE OF WAR. 438 
 
 dhu, the piper-ma.ior, and eight pipers, entered the mess or dining- 
 room, and marched thrice round the table, and then down stair?, 
 blov\dng with all their force and power the tune usual on the occa- 
 sion : — 
 
 •' Oar ancient forcfaithcrs agreed \vi' the laird, 
 To buy a bit grundie to mak' a kail-yard," &c. 
 
 and the reader may imaciine the effect of seven-and-twenty drones of 
 the great Highland war-pipe on English ears, to which, for many 
 reasons, its strains are so discordant. 
 
 The hotel was surrounded by a dense crowd, who kept up an inces- 
 sant cheering, and in the streets the Highlanders were absolutely 
 mobbed. Perhaps it was the first time the Scottish garb had been 
 seen so far south in England, so that, as the London papers said, 
 " the excitement was tremendous." 
 
 In every town and village through which they marched on the 
 long route from Dover to Edinburgh, their reception was the same : 
 they were followed by mobs of shouting men and boys, while laurel 
 boughs, and flags adorned with complimentary mottoes, waved from 
 the houses and church steeples. Every inn or hotel at which the 
 officers dined was decorated ■with streamers and evergreens, and 
 wreaths of laurel encircled every plate and dish on the tables. Each 
 day, during dinner, they Avere regaled by a concert of thousands of 
 tongues, shouting and screaming, while the bells in every spire rang 
 as for some great national jubilee. 
 
 At Lincoln was erected a triumphal arch, which spanned the 
 highway at the entrance of the city. It was composed of the usual 
 materials — evergreens, and such flowers as could be procured at that 
 season of the year, — and was surmounted by the arms of Scotland, of 
 England, and of the famous old ecclesiastical city, merry Lincoln 
 itself. St. George's red cross was waving from the summit of the 
 ruinous castle, and great Tom of Lincoln was sending forth his tre- 
 mendous ding-dong, deep, hoarse, and solemn, from the Gothic spu'O 
 of the cathedral, dro\Yi^.ing the mingled din of every other bell in the 
 citj'. The streets were full of enthusiastic people; the windows 
 were full of faces, flags, and the branches of trees. All were in n, 
 state of merriment and uproar, while the shrill fifes and hoarse 
 brattling drums, succeeding the fine brass band, made the streets 
 re-echo_witli "the British Grenadiers," the most inspiriting of all 
 our national quick steps. 
 
 Immediately within the triumphal arch stood a carriage filled 
 with ladies, two of whom, very beautiful girls, the perfect personifi- 
 cation of young English belles, with the cherry lips, and merry 
 bright blue eyes of the south, held aloft bouquets of roses, procured 
 probably from some hot-house, for at that season of the year they 
 could, not have been reared elsewhere. At the moment the ensigns 
 were passing A\ith the colours, the ladies made some sign to Camp- 
 bell, who lowered the point of his sword in salute, and desired his 
 orderly bugler to sound a halt. Each of the fair English girls, with 
 a white riband bound her roses to the tops of the colour-poles, just 
 below the spear-heads, but not without blushes and hesitation, for 
 the eyes of thousands ^vere turned upon them, and the hearts or the 
 unshaven ensigns were captured on the instant. The ladies managed 
 to say part of some address prepared for the occasion, " regrettmg 
 
 II. 2 K 
 
494 THE EOMANCE OF T7AB. 
 
 that they had riot a wreatli of thistles to olTer, and requesting that 
 the soldiers would carry the flowers homo to their own country." 
 
 Campbell returned thanks. The ensigns, who, luckily lor the 
 regiment, were both very handsome fellows, bore each on his breast 
 the AVaterloo medal. They raised their bonnets, and retired to their 
 places in the centre ; the music struck up again, and the Highlanders 
 moved forward with the badge of England adorning the shot- 
 sphntered poles of their colours. 
 
 Of the latter, nothing was left save the gold tassels and that part 
 of the silk which was stitched round the pole, with a few shreds and 
 remnants of embroidery. The rest had all been shot away, or torn 
 to pieces by the rain and wind, by the battles and storms of twenty- 
 one years of continual Airfare, in which the corps had borne a 
 distinguished part, since it had been embodied by the Duchess of 
 Gordon, in 1794. The appearance of the bare poles attracted 
 universal attention in every town and hamlet. The people were 
 heard to exclaim with wonder, " Look at the colours ! look at the 
 colours ! " which perhaps they supposed had been reduced by a single 
 volley to the condition in which they then appeared. 
 
 The bouquets of the Lincoln ladies remained long attached to tha 
 poles;, but the first frosty day completed their destruction, and 
 nothmg but the stalks were left ; yet these still remained when the 
 regimentj after a march of many hundred miles, came in sight of 
 their native country. 
 
 Who can describe the wild delight of the Ilighlandmen, when, 
 from the hills of Northumberland, they beheld afar off the snow- 
 clad summits of the Cheviots, whose sides have been the scene of so 
 many gallant conflicts ? A thousand bonnets rose at once into the 
 air, a.nd the " Hoigh, hurrah ! " from a thousand tongues made the 
 welkin ring. What a joyous march had been theirs through all 
 merry England ! How different in appearance were its cities, its 
 villages, its vast extent of cultivated land, when compared with the 
 ruined pttehlax and desolate cities of Portugal, or the barren hills and 
 desert plains of Spanish Estremadlira. In the former country the 
 soldiers of Massena had scarcely left one stone standing upon another. 
 What a change to these scenes and places seemed the comforts, the 
 luxuries, the happiness of England, especially to those who had been 
 enduring the starvation, the toil, the yearly, daily, hourly danger 
 and misery Df continental service ! Truly it was a merry march that 
 from Dover to Scotland, and never did private soldiers trudge with 
 their burd sn of seventy-five pounds weight more contentedly, than 
 the Grordo i Highlanders on that long but happy route. 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXIIL 
 
 EDINBUEGH. 
 
 At Musselburgh, on approaching the old Eoman bridge, the 
 venerable arches of which nave so often rung to the tread of a 
 Scottish host, the Highlanders, as they marched down the brae which 
 ascends to the kirk of Inveresk, perceived that some preparations 
 had been made for their reception by the men of the "honest toon," 
 — the honourable title conferred by Earl Eandolph on that ancient 
 burgh. Between the parapet walls of the bridge, on the spot w here 
 once stood an antique barrier gate, a triumphal arch was erected, 
 and on its summit sat a bluff old tar in his tarpaulin hat and frieze 
 coat, bearing aloft the standard of the ancient town of Fisherow. 
 of which he was no bad representative. With a voice which had 
 grown hoarse and loud in out-roaring the waves and blasts of the 
 German Ocean, he welcomed them in the deep Doric language of 
 Scotia, which had so long been a stranger to their ears. 
 
 " The song sings truly, ' There's nae folk like our ain folk,' " said 
 Campbell, as he rode along the bridge at the head of the coaimn. 
 " We are home at last, God be ])raised ! Tliis is our third day's march 
 on Scottish ground. Scotland for ever ! Shout, my lads ! Three 
 cheers for her people ! They seem to vie with the English in giving 
 us a kindly reception." 
 
 Their cheers were answered with threefold heartiness from the 
 other side of the Esk, where the crowd was immense ; and the interest 
 and excitement which prevailed may be imagined from the fact, 
 that the whole line of road between the Esk and Edinburgh, a 
 distance of seven miles, was so densely crowded as to be almost im- 
 passable ; and when the regiment entered the street of Fisherow, 
 the cheers and uproar were deafening. The pressure of the people 
 forward was so great, that the march was stopped, the ranks were 
 broken, and the music ceased. Hearty greetings and shakings of. 
 hands ensued between men who had never met before, and strapping 
 fish-women in their picturesque blue jackets and yellow petticoats, 
 were seen clinging round the necks of the soldiers, while a crowd or 
 fishermen and peasantry, every man of them with a bottle in his 
 hand, had hemmed in Campbell against the wall of a house, shouting 
 vociferously, each one, that he must drink with them. The colonel 
 abandoned in despair any attempt to proceed, or to urge forward his 
 horse, and sinking back on his saddle, he burst into a hearty roar of 
 laughter at the confused appearance of his men, and the mirth, jollity, 
 and happiness which beamed so radiantly in every face. Stuart was in 
 a similar predicament. The people pressed close around his horse, to 
 every leg of which an urchin was clinging fearlessly, while the 
 rabble shook both hands of the rider without cessation. 
 
 After the first vnld burst of welcome was over, some order was 
 regained, and the march was resumed ; but four hours elapsed before 
 the regiment gained entrance into the High-street of Edinburgh, 
 by crushing through the dense masses which occupied the Abbey- 
 lull and "IVatergate, where they Avere again broutiht almost to a halt, 
 
 2 K 2 
 
496 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 The rvowd hnd followed them in from Musselburjih and increased 
 as it rolled along, and one might have supposed that the entire popu- 
 lation of the three Lothlans was wedged into the High-street of 
 Edinburgh. Every wndow of all those lofty houses, which shoot up 
 on both sides ofthe Avay, and have been for five centuries a theme of 
 wonder to every traveller, was crowded Antli eager faces : every 
 lamp-post, every sign-board and door-head bore its load of shouting 
 urchins, and the whole street, from the castle to the palace, was 
 crowded to an excess never before witnessed. 
 
 The colonel, who always loved to produce an effect, had sent for- 
 ward, a mile or two in advance of the regiment, a young drum-boy, 
 who having lost a leg at Waterloo, had had its place supplied by a 
 wooden one ; and the appearance of the little fellow, stumping along 
 in his bonnet and kilt, drew immensely on the sympathy of the 
 Avomen of all ranks, from the ladies of ton down to the poor vendor 
 of edibles. 
 
 " Eh, sirs ! Gude guide us ! Look at the drummer-laddie ! the 
 puir bairn wi' the tree .leg ! " was the cry on all sides, as the tambour 
 of "Waterloo limped along. " Eh ! saw ye ever the maik o' that ? 
 Oh, wae to the wars, and dule to them that wrocht them ! What 
 will his puir mither think at the sicht o' her sodger laddie ? " 
 
 It was a cunning stroke of policy, sending the mutilated boy 
 forv.ard as an advanced guard. His appearance increased the 
 enthusiasm of the modern Athenians ; and when the long line of 
 dark-plumed bonnets appeared above the advancing masses, pressing 
 slowly into the street at the foot of the Canongate, the cries and 
 cheers resembled, as Campbell said, nothing he had ever heard before 
 except the "roar of the cannon and musketry at the battle of 
 Alexandria, in Egypt." So many open mouths, so many arms, 
 heads, hands, and hats in motion at once, presented a very odd 
 appearance, and Stuart, in consequence of being elevated on horse- 
 back above the dense masses which crowded the way from wall to 
 wall, had a full view of the whole assemblage, and thus possessed an 
 advantage over the oflQcers and soldiers who marched on foot. In 
 some places there might be seen a plumed bonnet floating above a sea 
 of heads, where some solitary Highlander, separated far from the 
 rest of his comrades, w^as struggling in vain to get forward, — a girl, 
 perhaps, hanging around his neck, two men grasping his hands, a 
 third shouldering his musket, while a fourth held a pint-stoup to his 
 mouth, calling upon him to " drink to the health o' his ain folk." 
 
 In other places appeared the long bayonets, the Lochaber axes and 
 cocked hats of the town guard. That ancient civic corps had been 
 ordered to line the streets, but being completely routed by the 
 pressure of the people, they had abandoned their posts and sought 
 shelter behind the long hues of carriages which were drawn up on 
 each side of the street as closely as they may be seen at a race- 
 course. 
 
 Never before had Edinburgh witnessed such enthusiasm, such 
 merriment, noise, laughter, hubbub, such shaking of hands, such 
 pressing, crushing, and tumult, as that with which its hospitable 
 inhabitants welcomed the first-returning regiment of then- country- 
 men; and even Campbell himself— with many regrets that poor 
 Eassifern was not there to share in it— declared that he'd never met 
 with anything like it, ''' even in Egypt ! " 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAE. 'iUT 
 
 To show tlieir respect for their victorious comitrymen, even the 
 honest Bailhes of Edinburgh, headed by the Lord Provost, turned 
 out in state to welcome them ; and upon this occasion, contrary to 
 their usual wont, they arrived on the ground— almost— in time. The 
 Provost had prepared a set speech, and would have delivered it, 
 probably, if he hadn't been frightened almost out of his wits at the 
 outset, and forgotten it besides. So a bold Baillie, in scarlet robe and 
 beaver, got upon his legs to welcome home the Highlandraen ; and 
 it is to be regretted that the only part of his speech which has been 
 preserved consists merely of an apology on behalf of the Provost, — 
 an assertion that all Scotland was well assured " no a rajment in the 
 haill service had done sae muckle mischief as the ninety-twa during 
 the wars," and an offer of an unlimited pinch of snuff from a very- 
 handsome gold box which the Baillie carried with him, and which 
 the colonel took it for granted contained the freedom of the city at 
 the very least. To all of which Campbell replied in a speech, which 
 to this day may be seen, printed in small capitals, in the Edinburgh 
 Journal. 
 
 The bows, the sweet smiles, and pretty wreaths of real or artificial 
 flowers which the ladies tossed from the carriages lining the streets, 
 were far more agreeable tokens of admiration than the address of 
 Baillie Mucklewham; and those wounded officers who still bore 
 their arms in slings, found that such honourable badges of war 
 attracted the utmost attention and interest. 
 
 Having thus piloted back Ronald Stuart to the Scottish capital, 
 the place in which his military career began, and having brought 
 him thither safe and sound, wind and limb, — with the rank of major, 
 and a moderate fortune besides, the reader may suppose that his 
 adventures are finished. But pause awhile, dear reader ! one or two 
 of the most interesting — to him at least — are yet to come. The 
 regiment halted in the gloomy old quadrangle of the castle, where 
 they were wheeled into line and closely inspected by the coj^mander- 
 in-chief, who complimented Lieutenant-colonel Campbeii, in the 
 usual phraseology, on the efficiency and discipline, &c. &c. &c. of the 
 regiment. Campbell replied, that he believed they were in as good 
 trim as when they returned from Egypt, some sixteen years before. 
 
 The moment this tedious ceremony was over, Honaid, Avho had 
 been wishing the Avhole North British staff at the bottom of the 
 draw-well, found himself seated in the " Eob Roy " Perth stage, 
 without having doffed his trappings, and with no other encumbrances 
 than his plaid and claymore. In ten minutes Edinburgh, the city 
 of the seven hills, was far behind him, and the stage was bounding 
 along the Queensferry road, past the hills and woods of Corstorphin, 
 as fast as four blood-horses and four flying wheels could bear it. The 
 heart of the gallant young Scot was leaping -with feelings of gladness 
 and delight, which none can imagine save those who have experienced 
 the pleasure of returning home after a long and weary absence. Five 
 years had elapsed since he had travelled that road before, and it 
 seemed a very long time to look back upon. He had seen so many 
 strange scenes, places, and persons in that time, that it seemed like 
 a century. 
 
 " Five years ago ! Alice was quite a girl then," he repeated to 
 Himself. " Ah ! Alice will be quite a woman now ; but she is my 
 beloved Alice still." At times there flitted across his mind anticipa* 
 
498 THE ROiLlNCE OF WAR. 
 
 tions of something; unnloasant occurring, in consequence of hia 
 father's obstinate and olu-fashioncd hostility to the Inchavon familj^ ; 
 and he remembered, with pecuhar pain, his resentment when his 
 passion for Ahce Lisle first became known to him. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when he alighted at the George Inn, and 
 he had yet a considerable distance to travel before he should 
 reach Locliisla. Having a stout saddle-horse, he took the road which 
 led to Lochearn, and as he perfectly remembered every by-way and 
 sheep-track, he struck across the mountains, taking a nearer way to 
 Locliisla than the high-road; and as there was neither hedge, ditch, 
 wall, or enclosure of any kind, the way was free and open, and he 
 galloped on by beetling crags, by corrie and rock, over ground from 
 which the most heedless fox-hunter would have recoiled with dismay. 
 
 CHAPTEE L.ViV. 
 
 LOCHISLA. 
 
 The Dfigiit moon was shedding her lustre over hill and valley, and 
 the traveUer soon saw the mountain Isla gleaming beneath her beams 
 as brightly as ever he had seen the Ebro or the Douro, and he 
 listened with delight to the murmur of its falling waters as they 
 poured over the shelving linn at Corrie-avon, — a fortunate ducking 
 in the pool of which had so suddenly changed the sentiments of 
 Alice's father toward- him. 
 
 Kow he was on thu oiJ familiar roavl to his home. It was long 
 past midnight. " Such a joyful surprise they will have ! " said he, 
 communing with himself, "and a merry new year it will be in the 
 glen ; but poor old Donald Iverach, he will look in vain for his fair- 
 haired Evan." 
 
 The road was closely bordered by pine and birch trees. The latter 
 were bare and leafless, and their stems aijd branches gleamed like a 
 fairy shrubbery of silver in the moonlight; but the former, the 
 solemn black pines of Caledonia, remained in all their rough unfading 
 foliage, and cast around them a gloomy horror. Steep rocks, where 
 the bright-eyed eagle and the giant glede looked forth from their 
 eyrie, echoing caves, whilom the residence of wild and wondrous 
 beings, the cairns of long-departed chiefs, rough obelisks, marking 
 the ground of ancient battles, and covered with mossy figures grim 
 and terrible, bordered the devious way ; but he hailed them all with 
 dehght, for they were the well-known haunts of his childhood, and 
 his terror of the mysterious beings that were said to guard them had 
 long since passed away. He set up his old hunting halloo as he 
 galloped along, to hear if they re-echoed as of old, and in his glee he 
 shouted fearlessly into a yawnj ag chasm called the Uamhachoralaich, 
 an uncouth name, which means " the cavern of the strange spirit." 
 He hallooed again and again, to hear the voluminous echo which 
 had so often stricken awe and horror into his heart when he was a 
 child ; and anon he dashed up the glen, scaring the deer in the 
 thicket and the eagle on the rock, and causing the colleys on the 
 distant hills and moors to hearken and howl in alarm. 
 
* THE EOMANCE OF WAE. 499 
 
 Now, Lochisla lay before him ! The whole scene burst upon his 
 view at once, as his horse bounded up from the narrow j;orge through 
 which the roadway wound. The lonely Highland lake lay sleeping 
 at the foot of the dark and wooded hills, which descended abruptly 
 on all sides towards it. Tall and spectral on its rock, with one side 
 covered with dark ivy and the otlier gleaming grey in the nioon- 
 Ught, the tower overhung the loch. Par beyond rose Benmore, dim 
 and distant. The declining moon was verging towards his ridgy 
 back, behind which it would soon disappear. In the tower, or the 
 clachan beneath it, no light was visible. Every loophole and viindow 
 was dark. 
 
 " They are all a-bed ; and the poor old watch-dog must be deacL 
 or I should have heard his honest bark before this," said Ronald 
 aloud, as he rode on towards the gate in the outer wall of the 
 fortalice. 
 
 There seemed a stillness, an utter absence of life around him, 
 which occasioned dark forebodings of evil, and he felt a strange sad- 
 ness sinking on his heart. He longed to hear even the crow of a 
 cock or the bark of a dog, but no sound could he detect, save the 
 hoofs of his horse ringing on the frozen pathway which led from the 
 clachan, or onsteading, to the tower. For a moment he became quite 
 breathless with agitation, and clung to the mane of his horse. 
 
 " God be praised, there is no scutcheon over the gate ! '" he ex- 
 claimed ; " but they lack somewhat of their usual care in leaving it 
 open at this hour." 
 
 The gate of the barbican, or outer wall, was Ij'ing off its hinges on 
 the earth. Janet's turret was dark. Her light, which she was wont 
 to burn the whole night, gleamed there no longer, and a deadly terror 
 chilled the heart of Ilouald. He trembled, apprehending he knew 
 not what, and for some minutes surveyed the court and keep, before 
 he dismounted and approached the door. Everything was mourn- 
 fully silent and desolate. Part of the barbican wall had fallen do'mi* 
 the wall-iiower had sprung up between the stones ; the moss ana 
 grass grew upon the cope, in the loopholes, and between the pave- 
 ment of the courtyard. Tlie byres and staljles were empty, and mid- 
 night depredators had torn away the doors and windows ; the once 
 noisy dog-keuncl was silent, and the ancient tower was dark and 
 desolate. The v/atch-dog's mansion was untenanted, and his chain 
 lay rusting on the grassy ground. 
 
 All was as still jis the tomb, and the soul of the soldier died within 
 him. The flagstaff was yet on the mossy battlement, but the halliard 
 waved wide on the wind. The old rusty carron gun was yet peeping 
 through its embrasui-e, but a tuft of knotted grass hung dovai from 
 its muzzle. 
 
 His heart, which so lately bounded with pleasure, no\v throbbed 
 with apprehension and fear, for the silence around him seemed 
 oppressive and terrible, v/hen contrasted with the bustle he had 
 witnessed in the capital a few hours before. 
 
 He struck A\ith the hilt of his dirk on the door, knocking long and 
 loud, and the building echoed like a huge drum, or some vast tomb. 
 Again and again he knocked, but there was no answer save the 
 mocking echoes. He attempted to force an entrance, but the door 
 was locked and bolted fast, and he was compelled to retire. He 
 looked up to the keystone of the arched doorway, but the armorial 
 
60»> THE EOMANCE OF WAK. 
 
 bcaiings, of which his I\ither Avas so proud, the antique crown, and 
 initial letters, ii. ii. k, (koueetus ii. in:x) were there no longer. 
 The stone remained, but the ancient sculpture was demolished. He 
 muttered some incolierent things, for the memory of the past came 
 swelling up in his breast, and his tongue clove to the roof of hi"^ 
 mouth. He looked across the moonlit lake towards the islet, where 
 the ruins of the church tower cast a long deep shadow on the graves 
 of his martial ancestors, and their once numerous brave and devoted 
 vassals. 
 
 It was a time of the deepest mental agony. A century seemed to 
 have elapsed since the morning. His thoughts were all chaos and 
 confusion, save one, which was terrible and distinct enough, — that 
 lie stood by the threshold of his father's house, a stranger, a wan- 
 derer, and there was no hand to grasp his, no voice to bid him 
 welcome. After lingering long, he turned sorrowfully from the 
 tower, to awaken some of the peasantry at the clachan. On re- 
 passing the ruined gate, he saw, what had before escaped his obser- 
 vation, — a large ticket or board nailed to the grass-grown wall of tho 
 barbican. He approached, and by the light of the moon read the 
 following — 
 
 " Notice. 
 
 "Any person or persons found trespassing on the lands of Eose- 
 mount Tower, will be punished with the utmost rigour of the law, 
 by the Proprietor, Zachary Macciuabester, Esq., of Eosemount. 
 
 " N.B. — Informers will be handsomely rewarded, on applying to 
 Mr. Macquibble, WTiter, Spy-gate, Perth." 
 
 The place swam around him. 
 
 " Eosemount Tower ! The Proprietor, confound him !" exclaimed 
 Eonald, bursting into fury, " and is it come to this ?" 
 
 With a heart sick and sore Anth disappointment, grief, and morti- 
 fied pride, .he descended to the little street of thatched cottages 
 named the Clachan. Here all was silence and desolation too. In 
 some places the roofs had fallen in, and rafters stuck through the 
 thatch, like ribs through the skin of a skeleton ; the chimneys had 
 fallen down, and the doors and windows were gone. The hamlet Avas 
 in ruins. The household fires had been quenched ; and as he sur- 
 veyed the deserted place, he became painfully aware that Ms people 
 — those among w"hom his race had moved as demi-gods — were gone 
 forth, and that the place of their birth, and which held the bones of 
 their forefathers, knew them no longer. 
 
 The glen, which in his boyhood had maintained two hundred men 
 in Avhat seemed ease and competence to a people so primitive, was 
 now desert and waste. The mountains, the Avood, and the Abater 
 Avere still there, as they had been in the days of Fingal ; but the 
 people had passed aAvaj^, and Eonald Stuart, to whom the Gaeha 
 sobriquet — Ronald an deigk nam .finn — might now be truly applied, 
 departed slo\vly and sadly from Lochisla. 
 
 He did not Avecp, — he Avas too tough a soldier for that, — and there- 
 fore could not experience the calm feeling of resignation and relief 
 given to an overcharged bosom by a gush of hot, salt tears ; but, 
 Avith a heart bursting Avith fierce feelings and sad remembrances, he 
 departed from the valley just as the AA'aning moon sank behind the 
 tiarkening mountains. lie rode sloAvly at first; but anon he drc vo 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 501 
 
 his sliarp spurs into the flanks of his horse, and rode towards Inch- 
 avon at break-neck speed, ns if he would flee from his own thoughts, 
 and leave his sorrows far behind him. ])ut the first gush of gloom 
 and disappointment having somewhat subsided, he strove to calm his 
 agitated spirit, and he derived some consolation in the timely recol- 
 lection that, although Lowland innovation might have expatriated 
 the people of Lochisla, his father might yet be aiive. Eager to learn 
 some tidings, he galloped along with the speed of the wind, out- 
 stripping the gathering storm, 
 
 " Ha ! here is Inchavon at last ! Dear Alice will explain to me all 
 this strange mystery." 
 
 I^orward he went at a hunting pace, and, keeping his body well 
 back and bridle-hand low, he cleared the wall of the park at a boinid, 
 and galloped over the whitening lawn towards the portico, under 
 which he reined up his panting steed. The whole mansion was in- 
 volved in silence and darkness ; and as he looked upon its closed 
 windows and gloomy fagade, new apprehensions and terrors began to 
 arise before him. 
 
 He rang the lobby-bell with fury, and ■^^'aited long, but without 
 receiving an answer. Again and again he rang, yet no one came. 
 He walked round the house, but every ',\indow was closed and dark. 
 The stables were shut up, and the vane on the clock-tower creaked 
 dismally. Neither dogs nor fowls appeared about the kitchen ofiices ; 
 not a bat was stirring, and no sign of life was visible anywhere. 
 Eonald thought that he was bewitched, that there was a glamour 
 over him, or that the land had been deserted by its inhabitants. 
 
 The cliill snow-flakes were descending thick and fast, and he 
 trembled as much with cold as with apprehension. It was quite a 
 rehef when a large mastiff dog bounded forth suddenly, to the full 
 extent of his chain, from his kennel in a corner, and barked furiously ; 
 and standing erect on his hind legs, yelled till the house and the 
 surrounding plantations echoed far and near to the sound. At that 
 moment a light flashed out upon the snow, and a man, half-dre.^sed, 
 appeared at an upper mndow, with a gun in his hand. Eonald was 
 so white ^^■ith snow, that it was impossible to recognise what or who 
 he was, and consequently his reception was rather rougher than he 
 expected. 
 
 "" Wha may you be, frien', that come prowlin' aboot honest men's 
 doors at this time o' the nicht — or mornin' rather, eh?" 
 
 "Hah,!" exclahned Ronald "are you Jock ISevermiss, — roaring 
 Jock, the gamekeeper ?" 
 
 " "What the better wad ye be for kennin' ? " asked the other, 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Come, come, Jock ; you must remember me, surely ? We have 
 had many a merry day's sport together. Is it possible that you do 
 not know mo ?" 
 
 " Possible eneuch, chield. But it's ower cauld the nicht to hae ony 
 mair giff-gafT; sae come back i' the morning, and then we'll see what 
 like ye are. I like none o' your Southland-tongued folk." 
 
 Eonald was enraged at the fellow's pertinacity ; but his fierce reply 
 was interrupted by the soft voice of a female. 
 
 " Gude sake ! surely I should ken his voice ! O Jock ! Jock ! 
 what hae ye been sayin' ? It's the young captain o' Lochisla. It's 
 inaister Eonald Stuart o' the tower — Miss AUmj's joe, come hon!8 
 
502 THE BOMANCE OP 'WAR. 
 
 frac the "wars ! Hand a^va, yo muckle gowk, Jock ! Oh, I ken ye 
 weel, sir ; lor many a blithe kiss ye've gi'en me to carry to Miss 
 Alice." 
 
 In a tmnkling the hall-door was opened, and pretty Jessie Cavers, 
 now Mrs. J. Nevermiss, stood palpitating and trembling, with her 
 night-can on and her feet unshod, by the side of her stout and 
 buirdly Iielpmatc, whose confusion and earnest apologies Eonald at 
 once cut short, for he well knew that honest Jock had been labour- 
 ing under a mistake, for tlio uu])leasant efiect of which he endea- 
 voured to make amends by a hearty but respectful Avelcome. Eonald 
 shook the snow-flakes from his dress, and from the ample plumage of 
 his bonnet, as they lighted him through a cold but splendid lobby 
 into the library, where a fire was hastily prepared by the nimble 
 little hands of Jessie. 
 
 Honald experienced another disappointment. Lord Lisle and the 
 family were in Lv^-burgh, where they always spent the ■\vinter 
 season. In his hurry to reach the North, he had quite forgotten 
 that ; but he was now informed that they were all " as weel as he 
 could wuss them to be ;" and J ock, while he stood near the door 
 twirling his bonnet, assured him, with a slj' look, that JMiss Ahce 
 " was a bonnier and a grander young leddy noo, and had turned the 
 heads o' hauf the country side. Young Corrieoich, and many mair, 
 were gone clean wnd. aboot her." • 
 
 Old Mrs. Kantweel, the housekeeper, next appeared to bid him 
 welcome. 
 
 "O sir !" said she, "ye seem sair distressed and unsettled. Ye'U 
 hae been up the glen, whar there are nane noo, alake ! to greet ye at 
 your homecomin'.'' 
 
 " Would to Heaven I had been shot at Waterloo, or anywhere 
 else, rather than have hved till now !" exclaimed he bitterly, fling- 
 ing away his bonnet and sword, and sinking into a chair. It stung 
 him to the soul to be pitied by servants, however well and kindly 
 they might mean. 
 
 " Dinna tak' on sae deeply, sir," continued the matron ; " it's sair 
 to bide, but — " 
 
 " Enough of this ! You mean kindly, I^Irs. Kantweel, but I am 
 unused to such consolation," rephed Stuart, with that native Jiauteur 
 which he had resumed now that he had again trod upon Highland 
 heather. " I am very sorry for disturbing you all at so untimely an 
 hour; but I request that the Avhole household ^rill retire to bed, 
 except my old comrade of the muirs, Jock the gamekeeper, with 
 whom I wish to have a few minutes' conversation, after he has seen 
 my nag stabled 'for the night, or rather the remainder of the 
 morning." 
 
 In a few minutes the servants were all in their nests, except Jock, 
 who was invited to seat himself at the opposite 'side of the library- 
 table, on which Jessie had placed decanters of wine and brandy, 
 with a cold repast, which was, however, left untouched by PLonald. 
 
 From Jock he learned the completion of the story of his father's 
 involvement by Macquirk and others, of the sequestration of the 
 effects, the sale* of the estate, and of the laird's departure for Canada 
 tvith his followers ; since which nothing had been heard of him. 
 His grief, during the recital, was excessive ; but, since fortune had 
 put it :n his power to undo all that misfortune had done, he resolved 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 503 
 
 to bear liis temporary distress vntli resignation : it was, too, with a 
 kind of gi'im satisfaction, that he now remembered having caught a 
 momentary gUmpse of a countenance — which it flashed on his mind 
 was that of ^neas Mac(;uirk — pressed against the bars of a loop- 
 hole of the ancient Tolbooth of the Canongate, on the day the 
 regiment entered Edinburgh so joyously. The worthy writer 
 having contrived, by his too-sharp practice, to secure himself accom- 
 modation in the building, and seeing little prospect of release save 
 by the assistance of the hnisher of the law, usurped the functions 
 or that personage, and finished himself, by means of a noose of his 
 oym. tying. 
 
 With the first gleam of dawn, Eonald quitted Inchavon, rode 
 back to Perth, and returned to Edinburgh as fast as a chaise-and- 
 four could take him ; but his spirits were oppressed, and his heart 
 saddened and seared, by the adventures of the preceding night. 
 
 CHAPTEE LX^. 
 
 ALICE. 
 
 At night he was again in Edinburgh, the centre of Scottish science, 
 industry, hospitahty, eccentricity, and learning ; Edinburgh, equally 
 celebrated for the beauty of its ladies, and the most profound cunning 
 of its lawyers. 
 
 It was after drum-beat, that is, eight o'clock in the evening, when 
 he arrived at the castle. The place seemed empty and deserted ; save 
 the sentinels on the batteries, not a soul was to be seen. The mess- 
 Tvoom was dark and silent, a sure sign of something extraordinary, as 
 the officers were stanch votaries of Bacchus, and seldom roosted 
 before twelve. It immediately occurred to Stuart that some great 
 conflagration, or other cause of disturbance, had happened, and that 
 the magistrates had ordered the regiment into the city. To ascer- 
 tain the truth, he descended the citadel stairs to the main guard- 
 house, a building situated under the brow of the rock on which the 
 chapel stands, and from the crowning parapet of which Mens Meg 
 overlooks the city and surrounding country. 
 
 " Well, Douglas, you seem commandant here," said Eonald to the 
 officer on duty, as he entered. 
 
 " How ! back already, Stuart ? I understood you had leave for 
 six months." 
 
 " Never mind ; you'll hear all by-and-by. I hope I may need it 
 yet, but you seem to have the place to yourself, and to bo very sulky, 
 too. I hoard you swearing roundly at the drummer just now." 
 
 " The little rascal allowed the fire to go out ; and as to bein^ sulky, 
 in truth it would vex an apostle, or Job himself, to be left here in 
 command of this dismal post, when all our fellows are enioying 
 themselves so famously in the city. Yesterday there was a splendid 
 dinner, a regular banquet, given to the Serjeants and soldiers by the 
 inhabitants of Edinburgh. It was served up in the assembly-rooms ; 
 the great poet, Walter Scott, in the chair, supported by the serjeant- 
 major on his right hand, and grim-visaged Jlonakl-dhu on the left. 
 A jovial night thev had of it ! Every cart and other vehicle in 
 
504 THE BOMANCE OF WAE. 
 
 Edinburgh was put in requisition to convey our men home, as their 
 legs had somehow failed them. To-night the entire battahon was 
 marched doA\ n to the theatre, free tickets to which have been given 
 to every man, from wing to wing. The ofhcers all went ofl" about an 
 hour ago to a splendid ball, to which they have been invited by the 
 elite of Edinburgh. It has been got up on a scale never witnessed 
 here before : our ball at Aranjuez is nothing to it. The first people 
 in Scotland will be there, — beauty, fashion, and all that ; while here 
 am I, cooi)ed up in this d — ned guard-room ! I have a dozen minds 
 to slip down and mingle with the crowd ; Campbell vnW be too mucli 
 mystified about Egypt, by tliis time, to know me, and I believe I 
 might pass unnoticed." 
 
 Very disagreeable, certainly ; but not so bad as a wet bivouac on 
 the Sierra de Guadaloupe. Your medal, too ; you lose an oppor- 
 tunity of displaying it before some of the brightest eyes in Scotland. 
 But the ser^'ice — " 
 
 " Deuce take the service ! " exclaimed the other pettishly. " If 
 ever I am ^'ictimized in this way again, I will sell out, or resign, — 
 upon my honour, I will ! " 
 
 " Alice will be at the ball," thought Eonald, as he returned to his 
 quarters, striding up the citadel stairs, taking three steps at a bound, 
 resolving to attend the assembly-rooms "vvithout delay. Ndt^^ith- 
 standing the perturbation of his spirits, he was dandy enough to take 
 more than usual care with his toilet, and he found a world of trouble 
 in getting his sash and plaid to hang gracefully, and arranging the 
 heavy folding of the latter to display the large studded brooch, four 
 inches in diameter, which fastened it, — a jewel that, from its bright- 
 ness and size, completely eclipsed his handsome cross of St James 
 and modest Waterloo medal, Of the two last-named badges he felt 
 not a little vain, a sentiment excusable in so young a man. As a 
 field-oflicer, he no longer wore the kilt and tasseiled purse. Eor 
 these the tartan iruis and gilt spurs were substituted; but they 
 became him not the less, for the tight truis of the Celtic garb dis- 
 play a handsome figure nearly as well as the warlike filleadhbeg. 
 
 From the lofty "\nndows of the assembly-rooms a blaze of light was 
 shed across George-street, and fell in broad yellow flakes on the 
 crowd of carriages of every kind, glittering with hveries and harness, 
 and on the upturned faces of a mob of idlers collected around the 
 porches, the piazzas, and portico, watching the flitting figures of the 
 dancers as they passed and repassed the curtained windows. AVithin, 
 every part of the building was gorgeously lighted, and the soft music 
 of the quadrille band, playing the airs then most in vogue, floated 
 along the loftj- ceilings and illuminated corridors. Crowds or gentle- 
 men in full di'ess, or in uniforms, vriWi Indies sparkling with jewels 
 and radiant with beauty, were gliding in every direction to cool 
 themselves after dancing, or toaidmire the tasteful decorations which 
 met the eye wherever it turned; and conspicuous among these, 
 Sonald, with the greatest dehght, beheld the splintered poles and 
 tattered colours which he had so often borne on many a weary march 
 and dangerous occasion. 
 
 He looked eagerly around him for Alice, and examined the figure 
 of every lady he passed. iS^ear the door of the hall, where the 
 dancers were, he, almost unconsciously, addressed a lady and gentle- 
 man regarding tne cause of his anxiety. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF "WAB. 505 
 
 ** Will you please to tell me if Miss Lisle is here ?" 
 
 The lady and gentleman smiled, and exchanged glances of surprise. 
 
 " Oh, undoubtedly, she is," rephed the latter. " She is never absent 
 such a night as this." 
 
 " But she never comes till near eleven," added the lady, 
 
 Stuart found that he had been saying something fooUsh, but he 
 
 wed Avith a good grace, and mingled with the crowd to conceal his 
 confusion, for his face was turning as red as his coat. 
 
 The appearance of the quadrille parties was splendid. The roorn 
 was crowded vvith all that were gay, beautiful, or fashionable in 
 Edinburgh ; more than one-half of the gentlemen were in uniform, 
 or in the tartan of their respective clans. The ladies wore a profusion 
 of lofty feathers, and the effect of so many rich costumes was striking 
 and brilliant beyond conception. 
 
 Eagerly as Eonald's heart throbbed to meet Alice, he had no inten- 
 tion of getting up a melo-dramatic scene in the ball-room by accost- 
 ing her abruptly; he therefore made a reconnoissance of the dancers, 
 keeping aloof, and observing the company in the room from amidst a 
 group of gentlemen who were, as usual in such places, clustered 
 around the door. He felt a light touch upon his arm, and two soft 
 dark eyes were beaming pleasantly and fondly upon his. 
 
 " Ah, senor ! ah, Major Stuart !" said the fa-ir owner with astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Hah ! Eonald, my boy ! " added another well-known voice, and 
 his hands were grasped by those of Lisle and his beautiful Spanish 
 wife, who was now a fasliionable belle, with nothing of Old Castile 
 about her, except her " wild dark eyes," upon which few cauld look 
 without pleasure and admiration. Her superb figure gave additional 
 beauty to a rich dress of white satin trimmed with the richest lace. 
 A diamond circlet sparkled around her forehead. Virginia had the 
 air of a queen. The time when he had first beheld her, as the half- 
 demure, half-coquettish Abbess of Santa Cruz, fhtted across Eonald's 
 mind ; t3ut it seemed more like a dream than a reality. Although 
 on the retired list. Lisle Avore his uniform, Avith his empty sleeve 
 hooked up under the folds of his green plaid, over which hung his 
 medal and Waterloo ribbon. 
 
 " How happy I am to see you ! " exclaimed Eonald. " I have been 
 iooking for you everywhere, amid this gay wilderness of people. 
 
 nd you are all well ?" 
 
 " As well as you could wish us. Alice is here." 
 
 " Would to Heaven I could see her !" said Eonald. 
 
 " You shall have your wish instantly," rephed Louis. " 'Tis a 
 
 lendid affair, this ! " 
 
 " Our fellows seem to be quite the lions of the night." 
 
 " The ball surpasses even ours in the palace of Aranjuez," observed 
 
 'Ouis, glancing fondly at "Virginia. " But where is Alice ?" 
 
 " I saw her but a moment ago," replied the donna, whose accent 
 had become much improved by her residence in Edinburgh. " Oh, 
 how happy, how very happy she will be to see you ! " 
 
 Eonald's heart beat more joyously than ever, and his impatience 
 increased. 
 
 " Your sash hides the cross of dear St. James," continued the fair 
 Castilian. " Show it fully, amigo ; such a badge sparkles well on the 
 brea.st of a soldier. Alice will love to look upon it ; ani so shall I, 
 
506 THE 1J0M.V^'CE OF TVAE. 
 
 for it Anil remind me of brave old Spain, We have had many a long 
 conversation about you, lor a year \:>ast" 
 
 "Lord Lisle is here, of course ?" 
 
 " In one of the ante-rooms, with Campbell and some of the seniors. 
 But we must discover Alice/' said Louis ; " she is very angry with 
 her field-oflicer." 
 
 " How have I beeu so unhappy ?" 
 
 " The carriage was in the High-street yesterday when the regiment 
 marched in, and for nearly half an hour Alice sat in it, watching 
 you unseen." 
 
 "Watching me?'' 
 
 '•'Yes." 
 
 " Good heavens ! I never sav/ her." 
 
 " Your horse was jammed by the crowd within a few yards of us; 
 and there you remained as fast as King Charles's statue close by, 
 and looking in every direction except towards us. Pocn* Ahe was 
 very much agitated; and you kept your back turned upon her, Avith 
 very happy nonchalance, during the whole of the BaiUie's speech, 
 and the rest of the foolery performed in front of the Exchange." 
 
 " How unfortunate ! " 
 
 " The moment the crowd had dispersed sulliciently, we drove to 
 the castle ; but you were ofi" no one knew where, and Ahce was 
 sorely displeased." 
 
 ^ " I was away to Lochisla," rephed Eonald, while his brow became 
 clouded. 
 
 The band cf the Highlanders commenced at that moment " el Mo' 
 rillo" a well-known Spanish waltz, which they had learned abroad. 
 
 "0, the gay, the graceful waltz ! Let me look upon it," said Vir- 
 ginia, bending forward, while her eyes flashed with dehght. " Ah ! 
 I am dying to have a waltz. 'Tis el JloriUo .'" 
 
 " May I have the honour ? " said llonaid, taking her hand and 
 leading her forward. 
 
 " Stay but a moment — there is Alice." 
 
 ';' Where ?— ah ! tell me." 
 
 " How gracefully she steps ! Beautiful ! beautiful ! " 
 
 Stuart looked in vain for the Alice he had known in Perthshire. 
 
 " I shall show you afterwards," said the cruel donna. " You will 
 have quite enough of her by-and-by ; but we shall be late just now 
 for the waltz." Away they flew into the brilhant maze of the 
 waltzers, llonald clanking liis massive spurs at every turn, in a man- 
 ner he had acquired among the Spaniards. Notwithstanding his 
 practice among the donnas of Spain, he acquitted himself but indif- 
 ferently. Imagining that every lady who whirled past in succession 
 might be Alice Lisle, he looked everywhere but to the figure of the 
 dance, and various unpleasant shocks took place, which excessively 
 annoyed the Castilian precision of Virginia. 
 
 "Stay, stay!" said she; "IavHI take pity on you. You are too 
 excited to dance. Let us withdraw, and I will show you your fairy 
 queen." 
 
 They left the giddy whirl, and after hanging half breathless on 
 Eonald's arm for a moment, " There is xilice ! " said Virginia. 
 
 " Where ? On my honour ! I know her not. I cannot recognise her." 
 
 " Heavens ! do you not Icnow her when she is before you ? Oh, 
 for the eyes of a Spanish cavalier ! That is Alice in the spangled 
 dress, with the white ostrich feathers in her hair." 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAS. 507 
 
 Waltzmg with the tall fellow in the uniform of the Archer Guard 
 — the green and gold," added Louis, who had joined them. " Now 
 they leave the dance. The archer is j^oung Home of Ravcnspur 
 He has dangled after Alice for three or four weeks, but I will make 
 the fellow quite jealous in three minutes. Retire to one of the 
 lobbies, and I will bring her to you. She does not know that you 
 are here ; but there must be no screaming or fainting, or nonsense 
 of that kind. I believe that, whatever she may feel, Alio will con- 
 duct herself admirably." 
 
 " Por three winters past Alice has been the reigning belle in Edin- 
 burgh," said Virginia, as she led forth Ronald, who had become 
 considerably bewildered. "She is never absent from a single /e^.?, 
 assembly, or promenade ; and indeed you have great reason to be 
 proud of her, for she causes more envy among the women, and 
 ftdmiration among the men, than ever woman did before." 
 
 " Indeed — indeed ! " murmured Ronald, scarcely knowing what 
 he said, for Virginia's information gave him little satisfaction. He 
 had no objection that Alice should be a belle, but he should be 
 grieved to find her a coquette. The merry laughing Alice of Inch- 
 avon v.-oods and braes, the slender girl of seventeen, with her curls 
 flowing wide and free, had become a stately young lady of two-and- 
 twenty, with her hair braided and tortured by a fashionable dresser, 
 surmounted by a floating plume of feathers. Her cheek was paler, 
 and the bloom of rustic health had given place to the graceful air 
 of a young lady of ton. lier form was taller and rounder, and— 
 
 "Here she comes !" said Virginia, cutting short Ronald's reflections. 
 He became agitated and confused when he saw Louis approaching 
 with a lady in a bright dress leaning on his arm. " She is more 
 beautiful and more devoted to you than ever; so, aynigo, take 
 courage," said Virginia, pressing his hand. " She knows nothing of 
 what 1 saw in the convent of Jarciejo, and never shall. ]>eheve me, 
 Ronald, her heart has never in the slightest thought wandered from 
 its love to you." 
 
 " Alice ! dearest Alice ! " said Ronald, springing forward, and 
 throwing an arm around her, while she sank upon his breast, too 
 much agitated to speak. But immediately she disengaged herself, 
 and a deep blush suffused her face and neck, rendering her beauty 
 still more striking. Timidly and hurriedly she looked around, to 
 see whether others than her brother and Virginia had observed 
 this scene. 
 
 " Be brave, Alie," said Louis ; " there are none here but friends." 
 
 " Plio — such a bashful couple ! " exclaimed Virginia. " AVhat not 
 a single kiss to give and exchange, after being separate so long ? " 
 
 " ]lonald, love ! " faltered Alice, trembling violently, while she 
 tendered her flushed cheek. He then drew her arm through his, 
 and led her towards some of the cool passages, that she might 
 recover from her agitation, and that the tumult of her spirits might 
 pass away. How supreme was their delight ! Everything and every 
 one were forgotten in the rapture of that jiieeting, and there were 
 two hearts, i)ure and happy — wondrous] y happy, in the midst of 
 :a11 that gay and dissipated crowd. 
 
 "Hov/ delighted iii^^r p.ijia Avill be to ^^ee you! " said Alice, after 
 the first outpouring of their joy and aficction had subsided, — an 
 aflection which had surmounted all the perils of a long separation, 
 the temptations of the gay world, and the dangers of a furious war 
 
608 THE EOMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 TI16.V had not looked upon each other's faces for five years — years of 
 grief, doubt, and anxiety ; and now^ how happy ! to find themselves 
 united again, never to separate while on earth. " How happy papa 
 ■will 1)6 to see you ! " 
 
 " Not more than I shall be to see him, Alice." 
 
 " Papa is here somewhere. I saw him only ten minutes ago with 
 that Celtic Goliath your colonel. They will be looking at the 
 dancers." 
 
 " You must dance the next fiuadrille with me, Alice ? " 
 
 " I am engaged a dozen deep. I am engaged for every dance the 
 night before a ball ; and that goose in green, young Home, — heavens ! 
 whiit shall I do ? " 
 
 " Dance with me, and apologize. I am determined to keep you 
 for the remainder of the night, in spite of Home and all these holiday 
 guardsmen ! " and he led her towards the dancers. 
 
 How many old and fond recollections were awakened by the sound 
 of her gentle voice ! Ronald hung with the purest delight upon 
 every word she uttered. With the same emotions Alice listened to 
 Mm, wondering that the slender youth whose fair unshaven cheek 
 had been so often pressed to her own, had become the perfect model 
 of a soldier, — stout and well-knit in figure, accustomed to his arms 
 and harness, and rendered swarth in visage by continued exposure 
 to a continental sun. They felt an honest pride in each other as they 
 moved throi^gh the crowded rooms, and many eyes followed them_ ; 
 for the badges sparkling on Eonald's breast, and a slight scar on his 
 sunburnt face, declared that he had acquitted himself well in the 
 field, while Alice was the leading star, the reigning queen, of the 
 fashionable world in Edinburgh. 
 
 Eonald's welcome by the old lord was as hearty and kind as he 
 eould have Avished. He introduced him to ^Ir. (afterwards Sir 
 AValter) Scott, to Jeffrey, Christopher North, and some other leading 
 characters, who were assembled in one of the ante-rooms. The 
 striking figure of Christopher, with his lank hair hanging over his 
 shoulders Hke a water-god's, attracted his attention particularly. 
 Campbell was seated in a snug arm-chair, and was detailing sundry 
 anecdotes of Sir Ralph to Scott, who hstened tehis prosing with his 
 usual politeness and good-nature. Except in a foursome reel, 
 Campbell had not been dancing that night. Eor all fashionable 
 measures he entertained a supreme contempt ; the strathspey, or the 
 sword-dance, was his delight and his forte. At the other end of the 
 supper-table, ladHng hot punch, sat the celebrated Johnnie Clerk 
 (Lord Eldin), to whom Lisle introduced Stuart, who was rather 
 surprised by the oddity of his language and observations. 
 
 On his saying something complimentary about the society of 
 Edinburgh, Johnnie replied, " The lassies Avere weei aneuch ; but as 
 for the society, it's no just as it was in my young days, when i first 
 ^oopit the parhament-house wi' the tails o' my goon." 
 
 " How so ? " asked Scott. 
 
 " Because Edinburgh is just like a muckle kail-pot,— a' the scum 
 is coming to the top." 
 
 Lord Lisle, Scott and Christopher, Johnnie Clerk and Campbell, 
 iiad been sitting beside the decanters for some time, and had con- 
 trived to get considerably merry. As usual, Scott was the life of the 
 j:>arty, and none enjoyed more than he did the queer stories told him 
 by Campbell about the Highlanders, the adventure with old 
 
THE EOiJANCE OP V.'AR. 509 
 
 Maliomincd T>jedda, the nwrdi to Gravul Cairo, the oampaign iu 
 Cor.sica, and Heaven knows nW what more. 
 
 Stuart, Avilh AUce, returned to tiio ball-room, where they danced 
 together nearly the lemainder of tlie night; Alice bravuic tiie dis- 
 pleasure of certain beaux, who, although they were sorely ais])leased 
 at being jilted, were too well bred, or perhaps too wary, to take any 
 unpleasant notice of it. ]\Iean while, the little party in the ante- 
 room became quite convivial, and Campbell, in the "^idst of his glee, 
 {)roposed to give the company a song. This offer being applauded. 
 16 c-ommenced at once, while Clerk beat time with Ins ladle and 
 bowl. 
 
 " When Abercrombie, g:al]ant Scot! 
 ;VJade iiritaiii's foes tu taek a^ain, 
 I'o ftijht by hirn it was uiy lot ; 
 
 But now I'm sate come back again." 
 
 With a brimming glass in one hand, and a decanter of sherry in the 
 
 other, he sung the nine verses of this patriotic song in a style pecu- 
 liarly his own, but as loud as it was out of place ; and llonaid, when 
 dancing in the ball-room, heard the tones of his stentorian voice above 
 even the music of the band. The colonel insisted upon Scott singing 
 in turn, although he protested that he was no singer. However, as 
 it was usual in such cases, he gave them a few staves of the old ditty, 
 " Tarry woo," his only song, and one which he very much admired 
 for its old style of verse and quaintness of expression. More songs 
 succeeded, and they enjoyed themselves as much as men could do 
 amid good company and good wine. Christopher at last set the 
 example of speech-making, because it was an art in which he parti- 
 cularly excelled : he proposed " The health of Major Stuart, the 
 hero of Almarez, &c." 
 
 Doctor Stuart returned thanks in the name of his clansmen ; but 
 the wine having slightly obscured his perceptions, his speech, so)no- 
 how, went olf into a dissertation upon gun-shot wounds, and the 
 treatment of fractures, simple and compound. 
 
 It' was five in the morning before this splendid fete concluded. 
 How many hea,daches or heartaches ensued next day, and how many 
 loves were lost and won, has nothing to do \'\ith my story; but 
 several gentlemen flirts — the tall archer especially — went home 
 breathing war and defiance, hair-triggers and rifle-balls, against Stuart, 
 who was too much of a soldier to value their resentment a rush, 
 although he received some distant hints of it. 
 
 Oilier balls and gaities succeeded, and during the whole of that 
 happy v'int-er the othcers of the Highlanders were the lions ot 
 Edinbm-^h. The 78th, the brave Eoss-shire Buffs, who arrived soon 
 after, came in for a share of the general attention and lestivitica. 
 The mess-room tables were covered every morning with invitatiori- 
 c-ards. The young ladies had all caught the scarlet fever, and would 
 certainly have pulled each other's cops had they worn any; and con 
 the match-maknig mammas had work enough upon their hands, and 
 were half worried to death — iii; they deserved. 
 
 n. 2 L 
 
610 THE ROMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 NEWS FEOM AFAR. 
 
 Meanwttile, the arrangements for the marriage of a certain lady 
 and gentleman were proceeding in the most agreeable manner 
 imaginable, and the ceremony was only delayed until some definite 
 information could be procured concerning the fate of the old laird 
 and his followers. Even the day was fixed ; for three months had 
 elapsed, and no tidings had been heard from Canada. 
 
 The Glasgow manufacturer who had purchased Lochisla, established 
 a splendid household and equipage in Edinburgh. By the marriage 
 of one of his daughters with some retired naval captain, who, like 
 most naval captains, was not very particular in his taste, the Mac- 
 quabester family continued to squeeze themselves into the assembly- 
 rooms now and then, and to give large routes at home, where they 
 carried on — as the saying is — " at hack and manger ; '' and, one way 
 and another, the poor man squandered away his hard-earned 
 thousands, the gains of many a long industrious year, so successfully, 
 tliat in a short time he was compelled to betake himself to the loom, 
 while his property was pounced upon ravenously by his creditors. 
 His affairs were managed by ]Messrs. Diddle and Fleece, clerks to the 
 signet, and they transacted matters so effectually, that ;^Iacquabester 
 was soon without a stiver, and his creditors did not find themselves 
 *' muckle the better " either. Under its new name of Rosemount. 
 Lochisla was advertised for sale, at a small upset price, and all 
 applications were to be made to Messrs. Diddle and Fleece, at their 
 office in Queen-street. Fifty thousand pounds was the sum re- 
 ciuired ; and Eonald, when he read the advertisement one morning 
 in the mess-i'oom, resolved to become the purchaser, but knew not 
 where to raise the money. While revolving the matter in his mind, 
 ^nthout teing able to form any definite plan, a servant brought a 
 note from Lord Lisle, requesting to see him immechately. After a 
 consultation with Alice's father, Ronald found himself able to treat 
 with Messrs. Diddle and Fleece, on whom he called in the forenoon 
 at their chambers ; and he found them, there being money in the 
 w^ay, the most smooth-faced, obsequious, and polite men of the quill 
 that Edinburgh possessed. After a delay of some weeks, and a 
 mighty deal of fuss, burrowing and searching among the musty 
 records of the Eegister-house, and after all sorts of doubfe, diffi- 
 culties, delays, replies and duplies, duplicates and repetitions, 
 amplifications and expenses had been disinterred or created, brought 
 forward and demolished, the affair was settled, and Stuart found 
 Lochisla his o\^ti. 
 
 One forenoon he sat in the front dramng-room of Lisle's house, 
 lounging on a very comfortable sofa, and occupied in detailing some 
 of his Peninsular adventures to a bright circle of six young ladies, 
 whose fair fingers were plying the needle with great assiduity, at two 
 large pieces of yelloAv silk. Several handsome work-baskets lay on 
 the floor, filled with embroidery, gold fringe, silver thistles, letters 
 for battle and achievement, and above all a sphinx, weighty and large 
 enough to please even CampbelL the colonel. The end of the drawing- 
 
THE EOMANCE OF WAS. 511 
 
 room, at which the fair workers sat, was covered with shreds and 
 patches hke the floor of a ruilhner's sliop. Ahce and live of her luost 
 intiniDte companions were busy working anew pair o;' colours for iha 
 Highlanders ; and the rolls of silk, upon which the ladies were 
 embroidering, spread from the knee of one to another like some great 
 piece of ancient tapestry. The ladies were all fair and of noble birth, 
 and ^Master llonald, who lay with so much Spanish nonchalmice on 
 the sofa, had the happiness to act as their director ; and a,s the 
 damsels were all anxious to attract the attention of the handsome 
 oflicer, although they knew him to be engaged to their friend, they 
 were continually asking him questions, where such a badge, such a 
 motto, or the name of such a battle should be placed. 
 
 A chubby little rogue, with fair hair and merry hazel eyes, who 
 bore the name of llonald Lisle, was clambering at his namesake's 
 back, and twisting his curly black locks with dimpled little hands, 
 and crowing and laughing aloud to Alice and the ladies, with whom 
 he was " an angel, a sweet pet, a dear love," <^:g. &c. lie was the 
 very picture of a plump little Cupid ; and the ladies bestov/ed so 
 many kisses and caresses upon him, that Eonald became quite 
 envious, and told the fair givers so. 
 
 He was just in the middle of a very animated detail of his 
 adventures with Cifuentes in the wood of La Nava, when the shrill 
 blast of the well-known war-pipe made him stop so suddenly in his 
 narrative, that all the girls looked up with surprise, for the pipe may 
 be lieardat all times in every part of Edinburgh, 
 
 The performer came nearer and nearer, and the notes of his instru- 
 ment were making the great square, the lofty dome and portico of 
 St. George's — even the very sky, ring to the warlike blatit. It was a 
 great Highland pi])e, of the largest size, and Bonald's blood came 
 and went in his changing face while he listened. 
 
 " That is the ' Prince's Lament ! ' " said he. 
 
 "Surely I have heard that pipe and tune before," said Ahce, 
 throwing aside the standard and her needle, and going to the window. 
 She uttered an exclamation of surprise, ana started back. 
 
 " 'Tis either Donald Iverach .or the devil ! " cried Eonald im 
 petuously, as he sprung to her side. 
 
 " It is indeed poor old Iverach ! " replied Alice piteously. 
 
 " ;My father's piper a beggar in the streets of Edinburgh 1 — a m.en- 
 dicant in his old age ! " muttered Eonald through his clenched teeth, 
 striking the floor with his heel till a spur tore the carpet, while the 
 ladies crowded round him with timidity and astonishment. " What 
 cursed misfortune can have brought this about ! " 
 
 " Dear llonald ! be comi)osed a little," said Ahce, taking his hands 
 within her own ; " you must obey me just now, and I will obey you 
 ])y-and-by. I wiU desire Iverach to be looked after." She rang the 
 bell violently. 
 
 The piper was now in front of the house. He stood at the curb- 
 stone and paused a moment — supposing, probably, that he should 
 not play long in vain before so splendid a mansion. He was clad in 
 the royal tartan ; having come of a broken clan, he had always worn 
 the family colours of the house under which his ancestors had been 
 vassals. His kilt, plaidj and coat, were worn to rags, and the once 
 bright scarlet checks ol the tartan were faded and dark; yet the 
 dirk and claymore were swinging as of old at his nut-brown thigh. 
 i±c was pale and wan, and evidently broken down v.ith age, waat 
 
512 THE ROMANCE OF WAR. 
 
 and sorrow. His silvery hairs were almost destitute of covenncr, and 
 his feet were in the same amdition. The proud expression of his 
 eye was gone ; he rarely raised it from the pavenieut, and ^^■llen a 
 coin was thrown from a window or the hand of a passer-by, his 
 cheek grew red, and he picked up the gift with such confusion that 
 he forgot to thank the donor. ♦ 
 
 " Oh, Alice ! " groaned Stuart, " now indeed I know that my father 
 is no more. Death, alone, could separate Iverach from him ; but 1 
 have long been prepared to expect the worst. Let some one take 
 care of the old man, and bring him here." 
 
 While he was speaking, the piper was ushered in, and stood near 
 the door, bo^^^ng, bonnet in hand, to the ladies successively, with 
 that native dignity and pride, mingled with respect, vrhich a High- 
 lander never, under any circumstances, loses. He bowed profoundly 
 to Ronald, and his keen eyes wandered restlessly over his uniform. 
 Then, as if some sudden recollection flashed upon his mind, the 
 pioh mlior fell from his grasp ; he sprang forward, and bursting into 
 tears, clasped Stuart round the neck. 
 
 " It's my ain pairn ! It's Maister Ronald ! Oich ! oich ! Got tarn ! 
 I'm creetin'mair like a bit giglet o' a lassie, than a teucli auld carle 
 that's come through sae muckle ! Gude pe thankit v.e hae met at 
 last, Maister llonald ! 1 have been wandering to meet ye throvigh 
 many a queer place ; but sair and sad are the news I hae to tell ye, — 
 sad and sair indeed. So joost prepare yerself for the warst ! " 
 
 " I suppose you would speak of my father ? " said llonald with a 
 quivering lip. 
 
 " Aich, ay : ta laird, ta laird ! Aich, ay ! Got pless us ! " replied 
 the vassal, bursting again into tears, which he endeavoured in vain 
 to hide by burying his head in the folds of his tattered plaid ; while 
 Stuart half reclined on Alice's shoulder, and turned aside, deeply 
 touched with the old man's sorrow, — for grief, like joy, is infectious. 
 " Ay; I wad speak o' the laird, puir man ! an' prood he \\ould hae 
 peen to see his only son coming home frae the wars an' devildoms a 
 stoot an' handsome chield, wi' a proon face, and a hand hardened wi' 
 the hilt o' the proad sword. But, ochone-aree ! he's low aneuch the 
 day, an' mony a pretty man tat followed him far awa' ower the wide 
 and trackless seas to the stranger's c'auld an' meeserable country." 
 
 " Poor, dear old man ! " said Alice, while she pressed Ronald's 
 hand to compose him, as the piper was speaking. 
 
 " I have sad news to tell you, too, Iverach," said he. " Poor Evan 
 Bean, — Evan mth the fair hair, is no more ! I find this to be a 
 sorrowful meeting, Donald; for I have lost my father, and you your 
 only son." 
 
 The old man smote himself on the forehead, and reeled back gid- 
 dily as if struck by a blow ; but he almost immediately recovered. 
 He stared \vildly at the speaker for a moment, and then said, with 
 strange calmness — 
 
 " I never again expeckit to pehauld him, for auld Shanet tauld me 
 his weird ; and Shanet never spoke in vain, nor tauld an untrue tale. 
 Her father was a talschatr. She said he wad return nae mair, — that 
 he was doomed ! The words were hard to pelieve ; put I mourned 
 for him then as one that was deid and awa'. Oich ! I thought the 
 pang was ower. Put — put, Maister Eonald ! my puir Evan, — and 
 whar was he killed?" 
 "At Toulouse, Donald — at Toulouse, where wo gained a signal vie- 
 
THE ROMANCE OF WAU. 513 
 
 tory over France. He died bravely, like Lis comrades, for all \^ ere 
 brave alike : I laid him willi my own hands in the churchyard bf 
 Muret. Eut, for pity's sake, Donald, tell me of my father, aud the 
 fate of the Lochisla people, and then I will tell you more of your son, 
 who, a,^ a token of remembrance, has sent you the clasp which fas- 
 tened the green feather of his bonnet. Miss Lisle will give it \yhen 
 you are more composed. Come; take coura[!;e, Donald, and tell us 
 your story. There are none hero but old friends, who have often 
 danced to the sound of your pipes, and shall yet again,— ay, next 
 month, and in the old hall of Lochisla, too ! " 
 
 Alice blushed, and her c()m])anions smiled. The old man's eyes 
 flashed a red light througli their tears. Ho looked from one fair face 
 to another, and, as he read nothing but innocence and happiness in 
 them all, he smiled, and ai)poared to become happy too. After Ijeing 
 comforted with a few mouthi'uls of mountain-dew, filled from_ a de- 
 canter into an ancient quaigh that he carried, and from which he 
 drank everything, he became quite composed, and commenced his 
 story. 
 
 After leaving the Clyde, the vessel containing the emigrants en- 
 ajuntered a continuance of adverse winds, and was driven from her 
 course far to the northward of the Canadas, upon the coast of New- 
 foundland,— the most barbarous and desolate of all the British 
 colonies. Having lost their rudder, and had their compass washed 
 overlioard in a gale, the vessel was, while surrounded by a dense fog, 
 carried into Baboul Ea.v, or, as it is commonly called, the Bay of 
 Bulls, by the strong current which there runs iu-shore. Pinding 
 that the brig was drifting among the breakers, and that she was 
 quite unmanageable, the master ordered out the boats to tow her off, 
 but the order was given too late. The boats were swamped among 
 the surf, and a few moments afterwards the vessel groiuided on a 
 reef, where the boilmg sea made clean breaches over her every 
 instant. She heeled over on her beam-ends, and the foremast went 
 away by the board, carrying with it the maintopmast and all the 
 rieging above the top. The vessel thus became a total wreck in five 
 minutes. 
 
 " At the time the ship struck," continued the piper, "the laird was 
 lying sick in the cabin, unco unwell in mind and body, for he had 
 lang been pining awa' wi' dule and sorrow for leaving you, and tlie 
 heathery hills o' Albyn, and to find himsel sae far awa' frae his 
 tower and glen, and the graves o' his kindred and forbears. When 
 I found that a' was owev, I determined to save him, or to dee wi' 
 him. Drawing our dirks, and vowing we would slay to the death 
 ony man that ojii)osed us, Alpiu Gig and mysel rushed into the 
 cabin, and bore him tliorefra in our arms upon the de<dc, and frao 
 there into a boat, the last ane that was left. The sailors tried to 
 crowd in, but our bare blades keepit them off. Nae man, woman, or 
 bairn frae Lochisla, though death was starin' them in the face, wad 
 hae thocht their aiu lives worth savin' if the laird's was lost ; and 
 sae a' helpit us into the boat, ndiere we solemnly swore, on the 
 blades of our dirks, to return and take as many frae the wreck as we 
 could, and a line Avas thrown us to make fast to the shore. The laird 
 lay as if he was dead at the bottom o' the boat, wi' naething on but 
 his dressing-gown, and the saut sea xiouring like rain ower him. 
 C^chone ! it was an awsome time for me ! Puir gentleman ! he was 
 lieipiess as a weau in our luuid " 
 
614 THE ROMANCE OF WAll. 
 
 0\nng to the denseness of the fog, there was no shore to he seen, 
 but the beach, or what they supposed to be the beach, could be dis- 
 cerned through the unnatural mid-day gloom by the white foam of 
 the breakers, towards wbich the two brave and determined Celts, 
 who had never been on rougher water than the loch of the Isla, 
 urced their frail bark with all the strength of bending oars and mus- 
 cular arms. They soon lost sight of the water-logged wreck, Avliich 
 the fog enveloped like a shroud; but the shrieks and prayers of 
 those on board were hear ringing above the roar of the wrathful 
 breakers, which u J their crested heads with such tremendous fury 
 on the desert beach of Baboul i^ay. 
 
 "When within a few feet of the .-hore, their attention was arrested 
 by a loud splitting sound, a crash as if a mighty oak was rending 
 asunder, and a tremendous cry rose from the face of the waters to 
 Heaven. They looked back in dismay. The sea was covered with 
 pieces of the floating wreck, and human heads and hands appeared 
 at times above the white surf, beneath which they were all engulphed 
 in succession. At the same moment nearly that the ship went to 
 pieces, a wave like a mountain rolled against the stern of the boat, 
 with a shock like that of an earthquake. Iverach was stunned by 
 its weight and fury ; the light seemed to go out from his eyes, and he 
 heard a horrible lussing in his ears, as he sank into the abyss, — the 
 trough of the sea. Darkness was around him, and agony was in his 
 heart, as he groped about in the sinking boat. He was grasped con- 
 vulsively in the strong arms of his terrified companion, and down 
 they went together, — down, do^vn, he knew not how deep, for ho 
 became senseless, and could feel no more. 
 
 When life returned, he found himself Ijing upon the beach, 
 drenched with the bitter surf, and covered with shells and sea-weed. 
 It was evening, and the sun, setting behind the hills, cast a long lino 
 of radiance across the glassy sea. All traces of the brig, save those 
 that lay scattered on the shore, had disappeared. Corpses were strewed 
 upon the sand, — the cold and wet remains of men, women, and 
 children, once the poor but happy cottiers of Lochisla. 
 
 Night was closing around him; he was alone, upon the desert 
 shore of a strange country, and the heart of the aged and supersti- 
 tious Highlander died away as he looked around him. In front lay 
 the hateful sea, which had destroyed his companions, and behind was 
 a homeless, howling wilderness, a savage sohtude, which he shud- 
 dered to look upon. He saw everywhere rocks, mountains, bogs, 
 and thickets of stunted firs, which grew to the very edge of the clifls, 
 and overhung the water ; but there were no signs of any human 
 habitation, and he strained his eyes until they grew stiff in the 
 sockets watching the vast wilderness to the westward, — yet no wreath 
 of smoke rose from it. Save the whistle and whir of the plover and 
 curlew, or the splash of the seals that were sporting and floating 
 among the shattered ruins of an iceberg, no signs of hfe manifested 
 themselves around him. 
 
 Donald gazed at the last-named animals with awe, not unmingled 
 with fear, when they rose from the water and looked steacUly at him 
 with their great black eyes. The Highlanders used to consider these 
 animals enchanted beings, and some old and troublesome legends of 
 the Ebudae came thronging upon Donald's mind as he watched their 
 movements among the ice. Beside him lay the unconscious remains 
 
TH^ ROMANCE OF WAE. 515 
 
 of his leader • but he was joyful rather thau grieved to find that he was 
 dead, for he knew that he was now in a better place, and that all his 
 trembles were at an end. To have lived would only have been a con- 
 tinuance of misery, and Donald upbraided the sea for having spared 
 himself. 
 
 He sat on the point of a rock, at the foot of which rolled the siir^ 
 and he watched its advance and retreat, careless of whether he died 
 or lived, until night descended on the sea and land, and then his 
 northern superstitions began to prove more terrible enemies than 
 any he had yet encountered. At last it became quite dark, and he 
 knelt down by the corse of the laird to pray ; but when, by the light 
 of the stars, he beheld the bleached and ghastly face of the dead man, 
 a sudden and unaccountable terror seized him, and he fled from the 
 sea-shore into the wilderness, where he could no longer hear the dull 
 boom of the ocean, as its eternal waves came rolling on in mono- 
 tonous succession on the lonely beach. 
 
 At sunrise he again sought the shore, and, digging a grave with 
 his weapon, gently placed the body of Mr. Stuart in the earth, rolling 
 it first in his plaid and a piece of old sail-cloth. He covered the grave 
 with the greenest sods he could find, and toiled the whole day, caroling 
 stones from the shore to pile a cairn above it, and on its summit he 
 placed a rough wooden crucifix, for old Iverach had more of the Ca- 
 tholic than the Protestant in his creed, and he looked upon the cross 
 with reverence and awe. Having performed this last sad duty to 
 the man whom, since they were boys, he had revered and loved with 
 all the devotion of a Highland vassal, he sat down by the grave, and, 
 regardless of his fate, heeded not a ship which was rounding a point 
 of land, and hove in sight about four miles off". But the appearance 
 of other things roused him from this state of apathy. His eye fell 
 upon a gold signet-ring which had fallen from the hand of Mr. 
 Stuart, and lay on the turf beside a splendidly-jewelled dirk, which 
 he was wont to wear on the 10th of August,* and other days which 
 are considered gay anniversaries in the Highlands. There was like- 
 wise an antique iron casket, containing family relics, bracelets, rings, 
 lockets, and brooches : and the piper resolved that he would return 
 to his o^ATi country, if God spared and protected him, that he might 
 place these trinkets in the hands of lionald Stuart or Miss Lisle, 
 \^ith whom he knew they would be in safe keeping. 
 
 With this intention he quitted the beach, ascended a promontory, 
 and made signals to the ship ; but they were unseen, and he toiled 
 along the shore from one headland to another, clambering ocean- 
 cliff's, tearing asunder thicket and jungle, till his strength began to 
 fail, and darkness again descended, and he could see the ship no 
 longer. 
 
 As a last resort, by means of the hard flinty stones, with which 
 the island abounds, being the only crop it ever produces, he struck a 
 light, and raised a beacon-fire on a rocky peak. Piling drift-wood, 
 fallen trees, and turpentine branches upon it, he raised a giant flame, 
 which lighted the sea and land for miles around, revealing the caverns 
 in the far-off capes and headlands, the barren hills and rocks, the 
 rippling ocean, and the distant sail, which glimmered white and 
 wavering. 
 
 Tliis scheme succeeded. A boat was despatched to ascertain the 
 * The raising of Prince Charles's standai'd, &c. &c. 
 
616 THE EOMANCE OF Y^AU. 
 
 nieiming of this struivjtc illumination, and the vessel, which proved to 
 oe a Quebec ship bound for Saint John's, the capital of the island, 
 took Iverach on board, lie was treated with the utmost kindness 
 by the crew, and was carried to the town of Saint John's, whence ho 
 procured a i);issage in a Greenock shij), — disposins; of his brooch, 
 pistols, and some other aiipointnients with which ihe Highlanders 
 are so fond of adorning their garb, to defrny his expenses. 
 
 After his return he visited Lochisla, and then traversed the west 
 country for some time, till a recruiting Serjeant of the Gordon 
 Highlanders informed him that the regiment had returned to 
 Scotland; upon which he set out on his way to meet them, and 
 having that morning entered Edinl)urgh, he had screwed up his 
 ])ipes in Charlotte-siiuare to play for a breakfast, for he had tasted 
 nothing that day. 
 
 A? he concluded his narrative, he unstrapped a leather dorlcich, 
 which he carried on his back, and taking from it the iron casket, the 
 signet-ring, and the jewelled noniard, placed them in E-onald's hand, 
 glad to be rid of them, after having brought them so far and i)re- 
 served them as sacred relics, even when compelled by poverty to 
 seek shelter in the haunts of infamy and crime, where he had pre- 
 served them untouched, though nearly perishing of want. 
 
 He had often been totally without food for four or five days, while 
 at the same time he carried about him jewels worth four hundred 
 pounds. 
 
 " But they werna my ain," said he ; " and what could I do, though 
 hunger is hard to thole ? But a's past noo, and oich ! I'll be happy 
 yet, even in my auld and childish days ; and I will end them beneath 
 the roof-tree o' the auld tower whan the time comes, and come it 
 must, — some day sune, — oich ! oich ! " 
 
 CHAPT:EE LXVIL 
 
 COJS^CLUSION. 
 
 Roxald's grief at the intelligence so suddenly brought him by 
 Iverach was of long continuance. It was the more poignant, 
 because his father had found his tomb in a desert place and in a 
 strange country ; for it is ever the wish of a Highlander to be buried 
 among the ashes of his ai^cestors. AVhen he looked upon the blade 
 of the poniard Donald had brought home, and saw with the thistle — 
 the badge of his family and clan — the motto Omwe solum forti 
 patria, it recalled the memory of liis father's pride and Avrath when 
 his boyish passion for Alice Lisle was first revealed to him, and of 
 that moment of anger when he ordered liim to quit his presence, 
 and for ever. 
 
 The sight of the family jewels which Iverach, like a pilgrim of 
 old, had so sacredly preserved in all his wanderings, awakened many 
 deep regrets and dear associations. There were lockets which con- 
 tained the hair of his father and mother interwoven, cut from their 
 brows in youth, when their ringlets were glossy and brown ; and 
 there were brooches which had clasped the plaids of brothers, and 
 
THE EOirANCE OF WAR. 517 
 
 rin!,!5 and bracelets Avhicli had once adorned the white hands of 
 sisters, all ol'wiioni were now gone, and above whose graves the grass 
 had grown and withered for years, 
 
 i)esi)ite the romance-like appearance the procedure will bestow 
 upon the story, we may not bid adieu to the hero in the midst of hia 
 grief, but must leave him what is stjled, in connnon phraseology, "the 
 happiest of men." After a lapse of time his sorrow passed away, and 
 ilie i)reparations for his marriage were renewed. 
 
 On tlie forenoon of the IGth of July,— one must be particular on 
 sucli an occasion, — an unusual bustle was apparent in and about 
 Lord Lisle's mansion in Charlotte-square, one side of which was 
 lined by carriages, while a crowd of woman and children were col- 
 lected around the door. Boys were clinging to rails and lami)-posts, 
 and cheermg and yelling with might and main, in a manner which 
 would l^etter have become a wedding in a country village than _iu 
 the " modern Athens." The servants v»-ere all smiles ,and while 
 ribbons, and clad in their gayest apparel. A Hag was flying on the 
 top of the house, and, at Campbell's particular reciuest, the great 
 stone sphinxes, which overlook the sides of tlie square, were adorned 
 with coronets and garlands of flowers on this aus'picious occasion. 
 St. George's bells rang merrily, and the splendid band of the High- 
 landers were makisig the northern gardens of the square re-echo, as 
 tbey played the old Scottish air, " Fy ! let us a' to the bridal ! '* 
 vvhile the crowd sang and laughed, and the rabble of boys cheered 
 long and lustily, like a nuisance as they were. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen in full dress appeared at times at the 
 windows of the front draAving-room, but they immediately retired 
 when a shout arose from the gaping croAvd, auiong whom the 
 servants scattered basketfuls of white fovours. To these Allan 
 T\'arristoun added, now and then, a shower of red-hot penny-])ieces, 
 which he heated on a shovel, and tlirew over the area railings. 
 These burned the lingers of those who caught them ; the laughter 
 became mingled with screams, and "the fun grew fast and furious," 
 
 Drawn by four tine bnys at a trot, a smart new travelling-carriage 
 fresh from the finishing hands of Cr'chton, came up to the door, and 
 the people fell back on the right and left ; but again rushed forward 
 as the door was opened, and the clanking steps thrown down by the 
 servant, \\'ho, like the smart postilions on the saddle, wore a while 
 favour of giant size on his breasl. On the dickey sat our friend old 
 Donald Iverach, superbly garbed and armed, with his pipes under 
 his arm, and his bonnet cocked over his grey hairs; while he 
 screwed aAvay at his drones, and looked more happy than ever he 
 had done in his life. 
 
 Double imperials, all new and sljining, were strapped on the top 
 of the carriage, and a regimental bonnet-case surmounted them 
 both, A sword and shoulder-belt, with various guns and flshing- 
 rods, hung in the slings behind, while shooting- bags and band-boxes 
 v/ere piled up in the rumble, into which the >ervant handed a spruce 
 little maid, cloaked and bonneted for the road. 
 
 Encircled by the collar of Saint James of 8i)ain, the arms of 
 Stuart and Lisle quarterly, appeared blazoned on the panels, glitter- 
 ing on the harness, on the canaage top, and sparkling on the ample 
 buttons of the footman. 
 
 " Now then, John ; is all right ? " cried the jovial butler, appear- 
 ing at the front door. 
 
618 THE nOMANCE OF WAB. 
 
 " All right, sir ! " cried tlie postilion ; and the crowd began to 
 cheer. 
 
 Stuart came forth, witli Alice leaning on his arm, and the eyes 
 that peeped in at the door discerned a crowd of glittering dresses 
 and happy faces behind them. Konald was in full dress, and cer- 
 tainly ai)])eared a little nervous. Alice leant on his arm, trembling 
 and blushing desi)erately, but looking so pretty in her little marriage 
 bonnet, and so interesting in all the si)lendour of white satin, 
 orange-buds, \irgin-lace, smiles and blushes, that the crowd in their 
 admiration forgot to cheer, greatly to her relief. Ronald handed her 
 into the carriage, and sprang in after her. Up went the steps, and 
 the door was closed. 
 
 " Good bye ! God bless you, my lad ! " cried Campbell, flinging 
 an old shoe after them for luck. " Remember the old Gordon 
 Higlilanders ; for it will be long before they forget you ! " 
 
 " Good bye, colonel ! " said Ronald. " Say the same for me to all 
 the rest, of ours/' 
 
 " Adieu !"' faltered Alice, kissing her little hand, and the glasses 
 >iveni drawn up. John leaped into his seat behind, and placed his 
 arm round the waist of tiie maid-servant. Donald cried Hoigh !" 
 and waved his bonnet ; the pipes struck up ; " crack went the whip, 
 round went the wheels," and they were off at the rate of twelve 
 miles an hour for Locliisla. 
 
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