!Tention, a Story of Boy-Life during the Peninsular War, by GeorgeManville Fenn. 

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A young private, Penton Gray, known as Pen, is injured during anengagement in the Peninsular War. When he comes to he finds that theboy bugler, Punch, from his regiment, is lying injured close by. TheBritish troops are near, but the area where the boys are is occupied bythe French, who are the enemy. The boys need to recover from theirwounds, and then to get back to their regiment. They have numerousadventures, and meet several people who help them, including the deposedSpanish King. 

Eventually they reach their regiment where they are interviewed by thecommanding officer, who realises that the young private has actually hadthe education normally needed for an officer, and that he has theknowledge needful to lead the troops through the mountains to take theFrench in the rear. This engagement is very successful, leading to therouting of the French. As a result Private Gray is made up to officerrank. 

The book is well written, and is an enjoyable read or listen. 

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!TENTION, A STORY OF BOY-LIFE DURING THE PENINSULAR WAR, BY GEORGEMANVILLE FENN. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

TO SAVE A COMRADE. 

A sharp volley, which ran echoing along the ravine, then another, justas the faint bluish smoke from some hundred or two muskets floated upinto the bright sunshine from amidst the scattered chestnuts andcork-trees that filled the lower part of the beautiful gorge, where, nowhidden, now flashing out and scattering the rays of the sun, a torrentroared and foamed along its rocky course onward towards its junctionwith the great Spanish river whose destination was the sea. 

Again another ragged volley; and this was followed by a few dull, heavy-sounding single shots, which came evidently from a skirmishingparty which was working its way along the steep slope across the river. 

There was no responsive platoon reply to the volley, but the skirmishingshots were answered directly by _crack! crack! crack_! the reports thatsounded strangely different to those heavy, dull musket-shots which camefrom near at hand, and hardly needed glimpses of dark-green uniformsthat dotted the hither slope of the mountain-side to proclaim that theywere delivered by riflemen who a few minutes before were, almost insingle line, making their way along a rugged mountain-path. 

A second glance showed that they formed the rear-guard of a body ofsharpshooters, beyond whom in the distance could be made out now andthen glints of bright scarlet, which at times looked almost orange inthe brilliant sunshine--orange flashed with silver, as the sun playedupon musket-barrel and fixed bayonet more than shoulder-high. 

The country Spain, amidst the towering Pyrenees; the scarlet that of aBritish column making its way along a rugged mule-path, from which thosethat traversed it looked down upon a scene of earthly beauty, andupwards at the celestial blue, beyond which towered the rugged peakswhere here and there patches of the past winter's snow gleamed andsparkled in the sun. 

Strategy had indicated retreat; and the black-green, tipped at collarand cuff with scarlet, of England's rifle-regiment was covering theretiring line, when the blue-coated columns of the French General'sdivision had pressed on and delivered the wild volleys and scatteredshots of the skirmishers which drew forth the sharp, vicious, snappingreply of the retreating rear-guard. 

"At last!" said one of the riflemen, rising from where he had knelt onone knee to take cover behind a bush, and there stand driving down acartridge with a peculiarly sharp, ringing sound of iron against iron, before finishing off with a few heavy thuds, returning the bright rod toits loops, and raising the pan of the lock to see that it was wellprimed with the coarse powder of the day. 

"Yes--at last!" said his nearest comrade, who with a few more had haltedat a subaltern's command to wait in cover for a shot or two at theirpursuing foe. "Are we going to hold this place?"

"No, " said the young officer. "Hear that, my man?" For a note or twoof a bugle rang out sweet and clear in the beautiful valley, suggestingto one of the men a similar scene in an English dell; but he sighed tohimself as it struck him that this was a different hunt, and that they, the men of the --th, the one rifle-regiment of the British Army, werethe hunted, and that those who followed were the French. 

A few more cracks from the rifles as the retreat was continued, and thenthe French musketry ceased; but the last of the sharpshooters obtainedglimpses of the blue coats of the French coming quickly on. 

"Have you sickened them, my lads?" said the young officer, as he led hismen after the retreating main body of their friends. 

"No, sir, " said the young private addressed; "they seem to have losttouch of us. The mule-track has led right away to the left here. "

"To be sure--yes. Then they will begin again directly. Keep your facewell to the enemy, and take advantage of every bit of cover. --Here, bugler, keep close up to me. "

The sturdy-looking boy addressed had just closed up to his officer'sside when, as they were about to plunge into a low-growing patch oftrees, there was another volley, the bullets pattering amongst thebranches, twigs and leaves cut from above the men's heads fallingthickly. 

"Forward, my lads--double!" And the subaltern led his men through thetrees to where the mountain-side opened out a little more; and, pointingwith his sword to a dense patch a little farther on, he shouted, "Takecover there! We must hold that patch. --Here, bugler!--Where's thatboy?"

No one answered, the men hurriedly following the speaker at the double;but the young private who had replied to the subaltern's questions, having fallen back to where he was running with a companion in the rear, looked over his shoulder, and then, startled by the feeling that the boyhad not passed through the clump, he stopped short, his companionimitating his example and replying to the eager question addressed tohim:

"I dunno, mate. I thought he was with his officer. Come on; we don'twant to be prisoners. "

He started again as he spoke, not hearing, or certainly not heeding, hiscomrade's angry words--

"He must be back there in the wood. "

Carrying his rifle at the trail, he dashed back into the wood, hearing, as he ran, shouts as of orders being given by the enemy; but he ran onright through the clump of trees to where the mule-path meandered alongby the edge of the precipice, and lay open before him to the next patchof woodland which screened the following enemy from view. 

But the path was not unoccupied, for there, about fifty yards from him, he caught sight of his unfortunate young comrade, who, bugle in hand, was just struggling to his feet; and then, as he stood upright, he madea couple of steps forward, but only to stagger and reel for a moment;when, as his comrade uttered a cry, the boy tottered over the edge ofthe path, fell a few yards, and then rolled down the steep slope out ofsight. 

The young rifleman did not stop to think, but occupied the brief momentsin running to his comrade's help; and, just as a volley came crashingfrom the open wood beyond the path, he dropped down over the side, striving hard to keep his feet and to check his downward progress towhere he felt that the boy must have fallen. Catching vainly at branchand rock, he went on, down and down, till he was brought up short by agreat mossy block of stone just as another volley was fired, apparentlyfrom the mule-track high above him; and half-unconsciously, in theconfusion and excitement of the moment, he lay perfectly still, coweringamongst the sparse growth in the hope that he might not be seen from theshelf-like mule-track above, though expectant all the while that thenext shot fired would be at him. 

But, as it happened, that next shot was accompanied by many more; andas, fearing to move, he strained his eyes upward, he could see the greysmoke rising, and hear the sound of a bugle, followed by the rush offeet, and he knew that, so far, he had not been seen, but that thestrong body of the enemy were hurrying along the mule-track in fullpursuit of his friends. 

"Just as if I had been running, " muttered the young rifleman; and hestole his left hand slowly upwards, from where he was lying in a mostawkward position, to rest it upon his breast as if to check the heavybeating of his heart. 

"Ah!" he panted at last, as with strained eyes and ears he waited forsome sign of his presence behind the advancing enemy being known. "Where's that boy?" he muttered hoarsely; and he tried to look aboutwithout moving, so as not to expose himself to any who might be passingalong the rocky ledge. 

The next minute the necessity for caution was emphasised, for there wasa hoarse command from somewhere above, followed by the heavy tramp offeet which told only too plainly that he was being cut off from hisregiment by another body of the enemy. 

"I couldn't help it, " he said. "I couldn't leave that poor fellowbehind. "

He had hardly uttered this thought when, apparently from just beyond therugged mass of stone which had checked his descent, there came a lowgroan, followed by a few words, amongst which the listener made out, "The cowards!"

"That you, Punch?" whispered the young rifleman excitedly. 

"Eh, who's that?" was the faint reply. 

"Hist! Lie still. I'll try and get to you directly. "

"That you, Private Gray?"

"Yes, yes, " was whispered back, and the speaker felt his heart leapwithin his breast; "but lie still for a few moments. "

"Oh, do come! I'm--I've got it bad. "

The young private felt his heart sink again as he recalled the way inwhich the boy had staggered and fallen from the edge of the track abovehim. Then, in answer to the appeal for help, he passed his rifle overhis body, and, wrenching himself round, he managed to lower himselfbeyond the mass of rock so as to get beneath and obtain its shelter fromthose passing along the ledge, but only to slip suddenly for a yard ortwo, with the result that the shrubs over which he had passed sprang upagain and supplied the shelter which he sought. 

"Punch! Punch! Where are you?" he whispered, as, satisfied now that hecould not be seen from above, he raised his head a little and tried tomake out him whom he sought. 

But all was perfectly still about where he lay, while the sound ofmusketry came rolling and echoing along the narrow ravine; and above thetrees, in the direction in which his friends must be, there was a risingand ever-thickening cloud of smoke. 

Then for a few minutes the firing ceased, and in the midst of theintense silence there arose from the bushes just above the listener'shead a quick twittering of premonitory notes, followed by the sharp, clear, ringing song of a bird, which thrilled the lad with a feeling ofhope in the midst of what the moment before had been a silence that wasawful. 

Then from close at hand came a low, piteous groan, and a familiar voicemuttered, "The cowards--to leave a comrade like this!"

CHAPTER TWO. 

POOR PUNCH. 

Private Gray, of his Majesty's --th Rifles, --wrenched himself round oncemore, pressed aside a clump of heathery growth, crawled quickly about acouple of yards, and found himself lying face to face with the bugler ofhis company. 

"Why, Punch, lad!" he said, "not hurt much, are you?"

"That you, Private Gray?"

"Yes. But tell me, are you wounded?"

"Yes!" half-groaned the boy; and then with a sudden access ofexcitement, "Here, I say, where's my bugle?"

"Oh, never mind your bugle. Where are you hurt?" cried the boy'scomrade. 

"In my bugle--I mean, somewhere in my back. But where's my instrument?"

"There it is, in the grass, hanging by the cord. "

"Oh, that's better, " groaned the boy. "I thought all our chaps had goneon and left me to die. "

"And now you see that they hav'n't, " said the boy's companion. "There, don't try to move. We mustn't be seen. "

"Yes, " almost babbled the boy, speaking piteously, "I thought they hadall gone, and left me here. I did try to ketch up to them; but--oh, Iam so faint and sick that it's all going round and round! Here, PrivateGray, you are a good chap, shove the cord over my head, and take carethe enemy don't get my bugle. Ah! Water--water, please! It's allgoing round and round. "

Penton Gray made no effort now to look round for danger, but, unstoppinghis water-bottle, he crept closer to his companion in adversity, passedthe strap of the boy's shako from under his chin, thrust his cap fromhis head to lie amongst the grass, and then opened the collar of hiscoatee and began to trickle a little water between the poor fellow'slips and sprinkled a little upon his temples. 

"Ah!" sighed the boy, as he began to revive, "that's good! I don't mindnow. "

"But you are hurt. Where's your wound?" said the young private eagerly. 

"Somewhere just under the shoulder, " replied the boy. "'Tain't bleedingmuch, is it?"

"I don't know yet. --I won't hurt you more than I can help. "

"Whatcher going to do?"

"Draw off your jacket so that I can see whether the hurt's bad. "

"'Tain't very, " said the boy, speaking feebly of body but stout ofheart. "I don't mind, comrade. Soldiers don't mind a wound. --Oh, Isay!" he cried, with more vigour than he had previously evinced. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, you just did. Were you cutting it with your knife?"

"No, " said his comrade with a half-laugh, as he drew his hand from wherehe had passed it under the boy's shoulder. "That's what cut you, Punch, " and he held up a ragged-looking bullet which had dropped intohis fingers as he manipulated the wound. 

"Thought you was cutting me with your knife, " said the boy, speakingwith some energy now. "But, I say, don't you chuck that away; I wantthat. --What did they want to shoot me there for--the cowards! Just asif I was running away, when I was only obeying orders. If they had shotme in front I could have seen to it myself. --I say, does it bleed much?"

"No, my lad; but it's an ugly place. "

"Well, who wants it to be handsome? I ain't a girl. Think you can stopit, private?"

"I think I can bind it up, Punch, and the bleeding will stop of itself. "

"That's good. I say, though, private--sure to die after it, ain't I?"

"Yes, some day, " said the young soldier, smiling encouragingly at thespeaker; and then by the help of a shirt-sleeve and a bandage which hedrew from his knapsack, the young soldier managed pretty deftly to bindup his comrade's wound, and then place him in a more comfortableposition, lying upon his side. 

"Thank ye!" said the boy with a sigh. "But, I say, you have give it mehot. "

"I am very sorry, boy. "

"Oh, never mind that. But just wipe my face; it's all as wet as wet, and the drops keep running together and tickling. "

This little service was performed, and then the boy turned his headuneasily aside. 

"What is it, Punch?"

"That there bullet--where is it?"

"I have got it safe. "

"That's right. Now, where's my bugle?"

"There it is, quite safe too. "

"Yes, that's right, " said the boy faintly. "I don't want to lose that;but--Oh, I say, look at that there dent! What'll the colonel say whenhe sees that?"

"Shall I tell you, Punch?" said the young man, who bent over him, watching every change in his face. 

"Yes--no. I know: `Careless young whelp, ' or something; and thesergeant--"

"Never mind the sergeant, " said the young sharpshooter. "I want to tellyou what the colonel will say, like the gentleman he is. "

"Then, what'll he say?" said the wounded lad drowsily. 

"That he has a very brave boy in his regiment, and--Poor chap, he hasfainted again! My word, what a position to be in! Our fellows willnever be able to get back, and if I shout for help it means hospital forhim, prison for me. What shall I do?"

There was nothing to be done, as Pen Gray soon realised as he lay uponhis side in the shade of the steep valley, watching his wounded comrade, who gradually sank into the sleep of exhaustion, while the privatelistened for every sound that might suggest the coming on or retreatingof the French troops. His hopes rose once, for it seemed to him thatthe tide of war was ebbing and flowing lower down the valley, and hisspirits rose as the mountain-breeze brought the sounds of firingapparently nearer and nearer, till he felt that the English troops hadnot only rallied, but were driving back the French over the ground bywhich they had come. But as the day wore on he found that his hopeswere false; and, to make their position worse, fresh troops had comedown the valley and were halted about a quarter of a mile from where heand his sleeping companion lay; while, lower down, the firing, which hadgrown fiercer and fiercer, gradually died out. 

He was intently straining his ears, when to his surprise the afternoonsun began to flash upon the weapons of armed men, and once more hishopes revived in the belief that the French were being driven back; butto his astonishment and dismay, as they came more and more into sight, ahalt seemed to have been called, and they too settled down into abivouac, and communications by means of mounted men took place betweenthem and the halted party higher up the valley; the young rifleman, byusing great care, watching the going to and fro unseen. 

Evening was coming on, and Pen Gray was still watching and wonderingwhether it would be possible to take advantage of the darkness, when itfell, to try and pass down the valley, circumvent the enemy, andovertake their friends, when the wounded boy's eyes unclosed, and he laygazing wonderingly in his comrade's eyes. 

"Better, Punch?" said Pen softly. 

"What's the matter?" was the reply; and the boy gazed in his face in adazed, half-stupid way. 

"Don't you remember, lad?"

"No, " was the reply. "Where's the ridgment?"

"Over yonder. Somewhere about the mouth of the valley, I expect. "

"Oh, all right. What time is it?"

"I should think about five. Why?"

"Why?" said the boy. "Because there will be a row. Why are we here?"

"Waiting till you are better before trying to join our company. "

"Better? Have we been resting, then, because my feet were so bad withthe marching?"

Pen was silent as he half-knelt there, listening wonderingly to hiscomrade's half-delirious queries, and asking himself whether he hadbetter tell the boy their real position. 

"So much marching, " continued the boy, "and those blisters. Ah, Iremember! I say, private, didn't I get a bullet into me, and fall rightdown here? Yes, that's it. Here, Private Gray, what are you going todo?"

"Ah, what are we going to do?" said the young man sadly. "I was inhopes that you would be so much better, or rather I hoped you might, that we could creep along after dark and get back to our men; but I amafraid--"

"So'm I, " said the boy bitterly, as he tried to move himself a little, and then sank back with a faint groan. "Couldn't do it, unless two ofour fellows got me in a sergeant's sash and carried me. "

"I'd try and carry you on my back, " said Pen, "if you could bear it. "

"Couldn't, " said the boy abruptly. "I say, where do you think our ladsare?"

"Beaten, perhaps taken prisoners, " said Pen bitterly. 

"Serve 'em right--cowards! To go and leave us behind like this!"

"Don't talk so much. "

"Why?"

"It will make you feverish; and it's of no use to complain. Theycouldn't help leaving us. Besides, I was not left. "

"Then how come you to be here?" said the boy sharply. 

"I came after you, to help you. "

"More old stupid you! Didn't you know when you were safe?"

Pen raised his brows a little and looked half-perplexed, half-amused atthe irritable face of his comrade, who wrinkled up his forehead withpain, drew a hard breath, and then whispered softly, "I say, comrade, Ioughtn't to have said that there, ought I?"

Pen was silent. 

"You saw me go down, didn't you?"

Pen bowed his head. 

"And you ran back to pick me up? Ah!" he ejaculated, drawing his breathhard. 

"Wound hurt you much, my lad?"

"Ye-es, " said the lad, wincing; "just as if some one was boring a holethrough my shoulder with a red-hot ramrod. "

"Punch, my lad, I don't think it's a bad wound, for while you wereasleep I looked, and found that it had stopped bleeding. "

"Stopped? That's a good job; ain't it, comrade?"

"Yes; and with a healthy young fellow like you a wound soon begins toheal up if the wounded man lies quiet. "

"But I'm only a boy, private. "

"Then the wound will heal all the more readily. "

"I say, how do you know all this?" said the boy, looking at himcuriously. 

"By reading. "

"Reading! Ah, I can't read--not much; only little words. Well, then, if you know that, I have got to lie still, then, till the hole's grownup. I say, have you got that bullet safe?"

"Oh yes. "

"Don't you lose it, mind, because I mean to keep that to show people athome. Even if I am a boy I should like people to know that I have beenin the wars. So I have got to lie still and get well? Won't be bad ifyou could get me a bundle or two of hay and a greatcoat to cover overme. The wind will come down pretty cold from the mountains; but Isha'n't mind that so long as the bears don't come too. I shall be allright, so you had better be off and get back to the regiment, and tellthem where you have left me. I say, you will get promoted for it. "

"Nonsense, Punch! What for?"

"Sticking to a comrade like this. I have been thinking about it, and Icall it fine of you running back to help me, with the Frenchies comingon. Yes, I know. Don't make faces about it. The colonel will have youmade corporal for trying to save me. "

"Of course!" said Pen sarcastically. "Why, I'm not much older thanyou--the youngest private in the regiment; more likely to be in troublefor not keeping in the ranks, and shirking the enemy's fire. "

"Don't you tell me, " said the boy sharply. "I'll let the colonel andeverybody know, if ever I get back to the ranks again. "

"What's that?" said Pen sharply. "If ever you get back to the ranksagain! Why, you are not going to set up a faint heart, are you?"

"'Tain't my heart's faint, but my head feels sick and swimmy. But, Isay, do you think you ought to do any more about stopping up the hole soas to give a fellow a chance?"

"I'll do all I can, Punch, " said Pen; "but you know I'm not a surgeon. "

"Course I do, " said the boy, laughing, but evidently fighting hard tohide his suffering. "You are better than a doctor. "

"Better, eh?"

"Yes, ever so much, because you are here and the doctor isn't. "

The boy lay silent for a few minutes, evidently thinking deeply. 

"I say, private, " he said at last, "I can't settle this all out aboutwhat's going to be done; but I think this will be best. "

"What?"

"What I said before. You had better wait till night, and then creep offand follow our men's track. It will be awkward in the dark, but youought to be able to find out somehow, because there's only one road allalong by the side of this little river. You just keep along that whileit's dark, and trust to luck when it's daytime again. Only, look here, my water-bottle's empty, so, as soon as you think it's dark enough, downyou go to the river, fill it, and bring it back, and I shall be allright till our fellows fight their way back and pick me up. "

"And if they are not able to--what then?" said Pen, smiling. 

"Well, I shall wait till I get so hungry I can't wait any longer, andthen I will cry _chy-ike_ till the Frenchies come and pick me up. But, I say, they won't stick a bayonet through me, will they?"

"What, through a wounded boy!" said Pen angrily. "No, they are not sobad as that. "

"Thank ye! I like that, private. I have often wished I was a man; butnow I'm lying here, with a hole in my back, I'm rather glad that I amonly a boy. Now then, catch hold of my water-bottle. It will soon bedark enough for you to get down to the river; and you mustn't lose anytime. Oh, there's one thing more, though. You had better take mybugle; we mustn't let the enemy have that. I think as much of my bugleas Bony's chaps do of their eagles. You will take care of it, won'tyou?"

"Yes, when I carry it, " said Pen quietly. 

"Well, you are going to carry it now, aren't you?"

"No, " said Pen quietly. 

"Oh, you mean, not till you have fetched the water?"

Pen shook his head. 

"What do you mean, then?"

"To do my duty, boy. "

"Of course you do; but don't be so jolly fond of calling me boy. Yousaid yourself a little while ago that you weren't much older than I am. But, I say, you had better go now; and I suppose I oughtn't to talk, forit makes my head turn swimmy, and we are wasting time; and--oh, Gray, "the boy groaned, "I--I can't help it. I never felt so bad as this. There, do go now. Get the water, and if I am asleep when you come back, don't wake me so that I feel the pain again. But--but--shake handsfirst, and say good-bye. "

The boy uttered a faint cry of agony as he tried to stretch out hishand, which only sank down helplessly by his side. 

"Well, good-bye, " he panted, as Pen's dropped slowly upon the quiveringlimb. "Well, why don't you go?"

"Because it isn't time yet, " said Pen meaningly, as after a glance roundhe drew some of the overhanging twigs of the nearest shrub closertogether, and then passed his hand across the boy's forehead, andafterwards held his wrist. 

"Thank you, doctor, " said the boy, smiling. "That seems to have done megood. Now then, aren't you going?"

"No, " said Pen, with a sigh. 

"I say--why?"

"You know as well as I do, " replied Pen. 

"You mean that you won't go and leave me here alone? That's what youmean. "

"Yes, Punch; you are quite right. But look here. Suppose I was lyinghere wounded, would you go off and leave me at night on this coldmountain-side, knowing how those brutes of wolves hang about the rear ofthe army? You have heard them of a night, haven't you?"

"Yes, " said the boy, shudderingly drawing his breath through his tightlyclosed teeth. "I say, comrade, what do you want to talk like that for?"

"Because I want you to answer my question: Would you go off and leave mehere alone?"

"No, I'm blessed if I would, " said the boy, speaking now in a voice fullof animation. "I couldn't do it, comrade, and it wouldn't be like asoldier's son. "

"But I am not a soldier's son, Punch. "

"No, " said the boy, "and that's what our lads say. They don't like you, and they say--There, I won't tell you what. "

"Yes, tell me, Punch. I should like to know. "

"They say that they have not got anything else against you, only youhave no business here in the ranks. "

"Why do they say that?"

"Because, when they are talking about it, they say you are a gentlemanand a scholard. "

"But I thought I was always friendly and sociable with them. "

"So you are, Private Gray, " cried the boy excitedly; "and if ever I getback to the ranks alive I'll tell them you are the best comrade in theregiment, and how you wouldn't leave me in the lurch. "

"And I shall make you promise, Punch, that you never say a word. "

"All right, " said the boy, with a faint smile, "I'll promise. I won'tsay a word; but, " he continued, with a shudder which did not conceal hissmile, "they will be sure to find it out and get to like you as much asI do now. "

"What's the matter, Punch?" said Pen shortly. "Cold?"

"Head's hot as fire, so's my shoulder; but everywhere else I am likeice. And there's that swimming coming in my head again. --I don't mind. It's all right, comrade; I shall be better soon, but just now--justnow--"

The boy's voice trailed off into silence, and a few minutes later youngPrivate Penton Gray, of his Majesty's newly raised --th Rifles, nearlyall fresh bearers of the weapon which was to do so much to win thebattles of the Peninsular War, prepared to keep his night-watch on thechilly mountain-side by stripping off his coatee and unrolling hiscarefully folded greatcoat to cover the wounded lad. And thatnight-watch was where he could hear the howling and answering howls ofthe loathsome beasts that seemed to him to say: "This way, comrades:here, and here, for men are lying wounded and slain; the watch-fires aredistant, and there are none to hinder us where the banquet is spread. Come, brothers, come!"

CHAPTER THREE. 

WHERE THE WOLVES HOWL. 

"Ugh!" A long, shivering shudder following upon the low, dismal howl ofa wolf. 

"Bah! How cold it is lying out here in this chilly wind which comesdown from the mountain tops! I say, what an idiot I was to strip myselfand turn my greatcoat into a counterpane! No, I won't be a humbug; thatwasn't the cold. It was sheer fright--cowardice--and I should have feltjust the same if I had had a blanket over me. The brutes! There issomething so horrible about it. The very idea of their coming down fromthe mountains to follow the trail of the fighting, and hunt out the deador the wounded who have been forgotten or have crawled somewhere forshelter. "

Pen Gray lay thinking in the darkness, straining his ears the while totry and convince himself that the faint sound he heard was not amovement made by a prowling wolf scenting them out; and as he laylistening, he pictured to himself the gaunt, grisly beast creeping up tospring upon him. 

"Only fancy!" he said sadly. "That wasn't the breathing of one of thebeasts, only the wind again that comes sighing down from themountains. --I wish I was more plucky. "

He stretched out his hand and laid his rifle amongst the shrubs with itsmuzzle pointed in the direction from whence the sighing sound had come. 

"I'll put an end to one of them, " he muttered bitterly, "if I don't misshim in the dark. Pooh! They won't come here, or if they do I have onlyto jump up and the cowardly beasts will dash off at once; but it ishorrid lying here in the darkness, so solitary and so strange. Iwouldn't care so much if the stars would come out, but they won'tto-night. To-night? Why, it must be nearly morning, for I have beenlying here hours and hours. And how dark it is in this valley, with themountains towering up on each side. I wish the day would come, but italways does seem ten times as long when you are waiting and expectingit. It is getting cold though. Seems to go right through to one'sbones. --Poor boy, " he continued, as he stretched out one hand and gentlypassed it beneath his companion's covering. "He's warm enough. No--toohot; and I suppose that's fever from his wound. Poor chap! Such a boytoo! But as brave as brave. He must be a couple of years younger thanI am; but he's more of a man. Oh, I do wish it was morning, so that Icould try and do something. There must be cottages somewhere--shepherds' or goat-herds'--where as soon as the people understand thatwe are not French they might give me some black-bread and an onion ortwo. "

The young soldier laughed a soft, low, mocking kind of laugh. 

"Black-bread and an onion! How queer it seems! Why, there was a timewhen I wouldn't have touched such stuff, while now it sounds like afeast. But let's see; let's think about what I have got to do. As soonas it's daylight I must find a cottage and try to make the peopleunderstand what's the matter, and get them to help me to carry poorPunch into shelter. Another night like this would kill him. I don'tknow, though. I always used to think that lying down in one's wetclothes, and perhaps rain coming in the night, would give me a cold; butit doesn't. I must get him into shelter, though, somehow. Oh, ifmorning would only come! The black darkness makes one feel so horriblylonely. --What nonsense! I have got poor Punch here. But he has thebest of it; he can sleep, and here I haven't even closed my eyes. Beinghungry, I suppose. --I wonder where our lads are. Gone right offperhaps. I hope we haven't lost many. But the firing was very sharp, and I suppose the French have kept up the pursuit, and they are allmiles and miles away. "

At that moment there was a sharp flash with the report of a musket, andits echoes seemed to be thrown back from the steep slope across thetorrent, while almost simultaneously, as Gray raised himself upon hiselbow, there was another report, and another, and another, followed bymore, some of which seemed distant and the others close at hand; while, as the echoes zigzagged across the valley, and the lad stretched out hishand to draw himself up into a sitting position, oddly enough that handtouched something icy, and he snatched it back with a feeling ofannoyance, for he realised that it was only the icy metal that formedhis wounded companion's bugle, and he lay listening to the faint notesof another instrument calling upon the men to assemble. 

"Why, it's a night attack, " thought Pen excitedly, and unconsciously hebegan to breathe hard as he listened intently, while he fully graspedthe fact that there were men of the French brigade dotted about in alldirections. 

"And there was I thinking that we were quite alone!" he said to himself. 

Then by degrees his short experience of a few months of the Britishoccupation on the borders of Portugal and Spain taught him that he hadbeen listening to a night alarm, for from out of the darkness came thelow buzz of voices, another bugle was sounded, distant orders rang out, and then by degrees the low murmur of voices died away, and once moreall was still. 

"I was in hopes, " thought Gray, "that our fellows were making a nightattack, giving the enemy a surprise. Why, there must be hundreds withinreach. That puts an end to my going hunting about for help as soon asthe day breaks, unless I mean us to be taken prisoners. Why, if I movedfrom here I should be seen. --Asleep, Punch?" he said softly. 

There was no reply, and the speaker shuddered as he stretched out hishand to feel for his companion's forehead; but at the first touch therewas an impatient movement, and a feeling of relief shot through thelad's breast, for imagination had been busy, and was ready to suggestthat something horrible might have happened in the night. 

"Oh, I do wish I wasn't such a coward, " he muttered. "He's all right, only a bit feverish. What shall I do? Try and go to sleep tillmorning? What's the good of talking? I am sure I couldn't, even if Idid try. "

Then the weary hours slowly crept along, the watcher trying hard tosettle in his own mind which was the east, but failing dismally, for thewindings of the valley had been such that he could only guess at thedirection where the dawn might appear. 

There were no more of the dismal bowlings of the wolves, though, thescattered firing having effectually driven them away; but there weremoments when it seemed to the young watcher that the night was beingindefinitely prolonged, and he sighed again and again as he strained hiseyes to pierce the darkness, and went on trying to form some plan as tohis next movement. 

"I wonder how long we could lie in hiding here, " he said to himself, "without food. Poor Punch in his state wouldn't miss his ration; butby-and-by, if the French don't find us, this bitter cold will havepassed away, and we shall be lying here in the scorching sunshine--forit can be hot in these stuffy valleys--and the poor boy will be ravingfor water--yes, water. Who was that chap who was tortured by having itclose to him and not being able to reach it? Tantalus, of course! I amforgetting all my classics. Well, soldiers don't want cock-and-bullstories out of Lempriere. I wonder, though, whether I could crawl downamong the bushes to the edge of the torrent and fill our water-bottles, and get back up here again without being seen. But perhaps, when theday comes, and if they don't see us, the French will move off, and thenI need only wait patiently and try and find some cottage. --Yes, what isit?"

He raised himself upon his arm again, for Punch had begun to mutter; butthere was no reply. 

"Talking in his sleep, " said Pen with a sigh. "Good for him that he cansleep! Oh, surely it must be near morning now!"

The lad sprang to his knees and placed one hand over his eyes as hestrained himself round, for all at once he caught sight of a tiny speckas of glowing fire right overhead, and he stared in amazement. 

"Why, that can't be daylight!" he thought. "It would appear, of course, low down in the east, just a faint streak of dawn. That must be somedull star peering through the clouds. Why, there are two of them, " hesaid in a whisper; "no, three. Why, it is day coming!" And he uttereda faint cry of joy as he crouched low again and gazed, so to speak, withall his might at the wondrous scene of beauty formed by the myriadspecks of orange light which began to spread overhead, and grow and growtill the mighty dome that seemed supported in a vast curve by themountains on either side of the valley became one blaze of light. 

"Punch, " whispered Pen excitedly, "it's morning! Look, look! Howstupid!" he muttered. "Why should I wake him to pain and misery? Yes, it is morning, sure enough, " he muttered again, for a bugle rang outapparently close at hand, and was answered from first one direction andthen another, the echoes taking up the notes softly and repeating themagain and again till it seemed to the listener as if he must be lyingwith quite an army close at hand awakening to the day. 

The light rapidly increased, and Pen began to look in various directionsfor danger, wondering the while whether some patch of forest would offeritself as an asylum somewhere close at hand; but he only uttered a sighof relief as he grasped the fact that, while high above them the goldenlight was gleaming down from the sun-flecked clouds, the gorges werestill full of purple gloom, and clouds of thick mist were slowlygathering in the valley-bottom and were being wafted along by the breathof morn and following the course of the river. 

To his great relief too, as the minutes glided by, he found that greatpatches of the rolling smoke-like mist rose higher and higher till asoft, dank cloud enveloped them where they lay, and through it he couldhear faintly uttered orders and the tramp of men apparently gatheringand passing along the shelf-like mule-path. 

"And I was longing for the sun to rise!" thought Pen. --"Ah, there's anofficer;" for somewhere just overhead there was the sharp click of aniron-shod hoof among the rocks. "He must have seen us if it hadn't beenfor this mist, " thought the lad. "Now if it will only last for half anhour we may be safe. "

The mist did last for quite that space of time--in fact, until Pen Graywas realising that the east lay right away to his right--for a goldenshaft of light suddenly shot horizontally from a gap in the mountains, turning the heavy mists it pierced into masses of opalescent hues; and, there before him, he suddenly caught sight of a cameo-like figure whichstood out from where he knew that the shelf-like mule-path must run. The great bar of golden light enveloped both rider and horse, andflashed from the officer's raised sword and the horse's trappings. 

Then the rolling cloud of mist swept on and blotted him from sight, andPen crouched closer and closer to his sleeping comrade, and lay withbated breath listening to the tramp, tramp of the passing men not ahundred feet above his head, and praying now that the wreaths of mistmight screen them, as they did till what seemed to him to be a strongbrigade had gone on in the direction taken by his friends. 

But he did not begin to breathe freely till the tramping of hoofs toldto his experienced ears that a strong baggage-train of mules was on itsway. Then came the tramp of men again. 

"Rear-guard, " he thought; and then his heart sank once more, for thetramping men swept by in the midst of a dense grey cloud, which lookedlike smoke as it rolled right onward, and as if by magic the sun burstout and filled the valley with a blaze of light. 

"They must see us now, " groaned Pen; and he closed his eyes in hisdespair. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

"WATER, OR I SHALL DIE!"

Pen's heart beat heavily as he lay listening to the tramping of feetupon the rocky shelf, and at last the sounds seemed so close that hedrew himself together ready to spring to his feet and do what he couldto protect his injured comrade. For in his strange position the ideawas strong upon him that their first recognition by the enemy might bemade with the presentation of a bayonet's point. 

But his anticipations proved to be only the work of an excited brain;and, as he lay perfectly still once more, the heavy tramp, tramp, a gooddeal wanting in the regularity of the British troops, died out, and herelieved the oppression that bore down upon his breast with a deep sigh. 

Nothing was visible as the sounds died out; and, waiting till he feltthat he was safe, he changed his position slightly so as to try and makeout whether the rear-guard of the enemy had quite disappeared. 

In an instant he had shrunk down again amongst the bushes, for there, about a hundred yards away, at the point of an angle where the mule-pathstruck off suddenly to the left, and at a spot that had undoubtedly beenchosen for its command of the road backward, he became aware of thepresence of an outpost of seven or eight men. 

This was startling, for it put a check upon any attempt at movement uponhis own part. 

Pen lay thinking for a few moments, during which he made sure that hiscomrade was still plunged in a deep, stupor-like sleep. Then, after alittle investigation, he settled how he could move slightly withoutdrawing the attention of the vedette; and, taking advantage thereof, crawled cautiously about a couple of yards with the greatest care. Then, looking back as he slowly raised his head, which he covered with afew leafy twigs, he was by no means surprised to see at the edge of themule-path about a quarter of a mile away another vedette. This shut offany attempt at retreat in that direction, and he was about to move againwhen he was startled by a flash of light reflected from a musket-barrelwhose bearer was one acting as the leader of a third vedette moving upthe side of the valley across the river, and which soon came to a haltat about the same height above the stream as that which he occupiedhimself. 

The lad could not control a movement of impatience as the little knot ofinfantry settled themselves exactly opposite to his own hiding-place, and in a position from which the French soldiers must be able to controlone slope of the valley for a mile in each direction. 

"It's maddening!" thought Pen. "I sha'n't be able to stir, and I daresay they'll have more vedettes stationed about. It means giving up, andnothing else. "

Very slowly and cautiously he wrenched himself round, and then rolledover twice so as to bring himself alongside of his sleeping comrade; andthen, as he resumed his reconnoitring, where he was just able to commandthe farther side of the valley away to his right and in a directionwhere he hoped to find the land clear, he started again. 

"Why, they are everywhere!" said the lad half-aloud and with a faintgroan of dismay; for there, higher up the opposite side, were a coupleof sentries who seemed to be looking straight down upon him. "Why, theymust have seen me!" he muttered; and for quite an hour now he laywithout stirring, half in the expectation of seeing the low bushes inmotion and a little party of the blue-coated enemy coming across tosecure fresh prisoners. 

But the time wore on, with the chill of the night dying out in the warmsunshine now beginning to search Pen's side of the valley with thebright shafts of light, which suggested to him the necessity forcovering his well-kept rifle with the leafy twigs he was able to gathercautiously so as not to betray his presence. 

He was in the act of doing this when, turning his head slightly, a flashof light began to play right into his eyes, and he stopped short oncemore to try and make out whether this had been seen by either of theenemy on duty, for he now awoke to the fact that poor Punch's bugle waslying quite exposed. 

The fact was so startling that, instead of trying to reach its cord anddraw the glistening instrument towards him, he lay perfectly stillagain, sweeping the sides of the valley as far as he could in search ofdanger, but searching in vain, till the thought occurred to him that hemight achieve the object he had in view by cautiously taking out hisknife and cutting twig after twig so that they might fall across thecurving polished copper. 

This he contrived to do, and then lay still once more, breathing freelyin the full hope that if he gave up further attempt at movement he mightescape detection. 

"Besides, " he said to himself, with a bitter smile playing upon hislips, "if they do make us out they may not trouble, for they will thinkwe are dead. "

He lay still then, waiting for Punch to awaken so that he could warn himto lie perfectly quiet. 

The hours glided by, with the sun rising higher and setting the watcherthinking, in spite of his misery, weariness, and the pangs of hungerthat attacked him, of what a wonderfully beautiful contrast there wasbetween the night and the day. With nothing else that he could do, herecalled the horrors of the past hours, the alternating chills of coldand despair, and the howlings of the wolves; and he uttered more thanone sigh of relief as his eyes swept the peaks away across the valley, which here and there sent forth flashes of light from a few scatteredpatches of melting snow, the beautiful violet shadows of the transversegullies through which sparkling rivulets descended with many a fall tojoin the main stream, which dashed onward with the dull, musical roarwhich rose and fell, now quite loud, then almost dying completely away. The valley formed a very paradise to the unfortunate fugitive, and hemuttered bitterly:

"How beautiful it would have been under other circumstances, when such awondrous scene of peace was not disfigured by war! So bitterly coldlast night, " thought the young private impatiently, for he was fightingnow against two assaults, both of which came upon him when he was tryinghard to lie perfectly still and maintain his equanimity while the pangsof hunger and thirst were growing poignant. "It seems so easy, " hemuttered, "to lie still and keep silence, and here I am feeling that Imust move and do something, and wanting so horribly to talk. It wouldbe better if that poor boy would only awaken and speak to me. Andthere's that water, too, " he continued, as the faint plashing, ripplingsound rose to his ears from below. "Oh, how I could drink! I wish thewind would rise, so that I couldn't hear that dull plashing sound. Howterribly hot the sun is; and it's getting worse!"

Then a horrible thought struck him, that Punch might suddenly wake upand begin to talk aloud, feverish and delirious from his sufferings; andthen when Pen's troubles were at their very worst, and he could hardlycontain himself and keep from creeping downwards to the water's edge, itseemed as if a cloud swept over him, and all was blank, for how long hecould not tell, but his fingers closed sharply to clutch the twigs andgrass amongst which he lay as he started into full consciousness. 

"Why, I have been asleep!" he muttered. "I must have been;" and hestared wildly around. There was a great shadow there, and now the sunis beating down upon that little gully and lighting up the flashingwaters of the fall. "Why, I must have been sleeping for hours, and itmust be quite midday. "

His eyes now sought the positions of the different vedettes, and all wasso brilliant and clear that he saw where the men had stood up theirmuskets against bush or tree, noted the flash from bayonets and theduller gleam from musket-barrels. In one case, too, the men weresheltering themselves beneath a tree, and this sent an additional pangof suffering through the lad, as he felt for the first time that the sunwas playing with burning force upon his neck. 

"It's of no use, " he said. "Even if they see me, I must move. "

But he made the movement with the mental excuse that it was to see howhis wounded companion fared. 

It only meant seizing hold of a clump of wiry heather twice over anddrawing himself to where his face was close to the sleeper. Then heresigned himself again with a sigh to try and bear his position. 

"He's best off, " he muttered, "bad as he is, for he can't feel what Ido. "

How the rest of that day of scorching sunshine and cruel thirst passedonward Pen Gray could not afterwards recall. For the most part it waslike a feverish dream, till he awoke to the fact that the sun wassinking fast, and that from time to time a gentle breath of cool air waswafted down from the mountains. 

Then the hunger began to torture him again, though at times the thirstwas less. His brain was clearer, though, and he lay alternatelywatching the vedettes and noting that they had somewhat changed theirpositions, and trying to perfect his plans as to what he must do as soonas the shades of night should render it possible for him to move unseen. 

Finally, the last sentry was completely blotted out by the gatheringdarkness; and, uttering the words aloud, "Now for it!" Pen tried toraise himself to his knees before proceeding to carry out his plan, whenhe sank back again with an ejaculation half of wonder, half of dread. For a feeling of utter numbness shot through him, paralysing everymovement; while, prickling and stinging, every fibre of his frameliterally quivered as he lay there in despair, feeling that all hisplanning had been in vain, and that now the time had arrived when hemight carry out his attempt in safety the power of movement hadabsolutely gone. 

How long he lay like this he could not tell, but it was until thenight-breeze was coming down briskly from the mountains, and the soundof the plashing water far below sent a sudden feeling of excitementthrough his nerves. 

"Water!" he muttered. "Water, or I shall die!"

CHAPTER FIVE. 

HARD WORK. 

It was like coming back to life. In an instant Pen felt full of energyand excitement once more. The pangs of hunger supplemented those ofthirst; and, almost raging against them now, he felt that he must fight, and he rose with an effort to his feet, with the tingling numbnessfeeling for the moment worse than ever, but only to prick and spur himinto action. 

"Ah!" he ejaculated, "it is like life coming back. " Turning to wherehis comrade lay breathing heavily, he snatched off the leafy twigs withwhich he had sheltered him. 

"Asleep, Punch?" he said; but he was only answered by a low sigh. 

"Poor boy!" he muttered; "but I must. "

He snatched off, full of energy now, his jacket and overcoat, andresumed them. Then, picking up his rifle, he slackened the sling andpassed it over his shoulder. In doing this he kicked against the bugle, and slung the cord across the other shoulder. Then, tightening thestrap of his shako beneath his chin, he drew a deep breath and lookedfirst in the one direction and then in another in search of thevedettes; but all was darkness for a while, and he was beginning to feelthe calm of certainty as regarded their being perfectly free fromobservation, when, from the nearest point where he had made out thewatchers, he suddenly became aware of how close one party was by seeingthe faint spark of light which the next minute deepened into a glow, andthe wind wafted to his nostrils the odour of coarse, strong tobacco. 

"Ah, nearer than I thought, " said the lad to himself, and, looking roundonce more, he made out another faint glow of light; and then, bendingover his comrade, he felt about for his hands and glided his own to theboy's wrists, which felt dank and cold, as he stood thinking for amoment or two of the poor fellow's condition. 

"I can't help it. My only hope is that he is quite insensible to pain. He must be, or he couldn't sleep like this. It must be done. "

Pen's plans had been carefully laid, and he had not anticipated anydifficulty. 

"It's only a matter of strength, " he said to himself, "and I feeldesperate and strong enough now to do anything. "

But it meant several failures, and he was checked by groan after groanbefore he at last managed to seat himself with his back to the woundedboy, after propping him up against one of the gnarled little oak-trunksamongst which they had been lying. 

Again and again he had been hindered by the rifle slung across his back. More than once, too, he had despairingly told himself that he must castit aside, but only to feel that at any cost a soldier must hold to hisarms. Then it was the cartouche-box; this, drawn round before him, hewas troubled by the position of his haversack, and ready to rage withdespair at the difficulties which he had to overcome. 

At last, though, he sat there shivering, and listening to try and makeout whether the poor boy's moanings had been heard, before drawing adeep breath and beginning to drag the poor fellow's wrists over hisshoulders. Then, making one tremendous heave as he threw himselfforward, he had Punch well upon his back and staggered up, findinghimself plunging down the slope headlong as he struggled to keep hisfeet, but in vain; for his balance was gone, and a heavy fall was savedby his going head first into the tangled branches of a scrub oak, wherehe was brought up short with his shako driven down over his eyes. 

Penton regained his balance and his breath--to stand listening for somesound of the enemy having taken the alarm, but all was quite still--and, freeing his rifle, he began to use it in the darkness as a staff ofsupport, and to feel his way amongst the shrubs and stones downwardalways, the butt saving him from more than one fall, for he could nottake a step without making sure of a safe place for his feet before heventured farther. 

It was a long and tedious task; but in the silence of the night thesound of the rushing water acted as a guide, and by slow degrees, andafter many a rest, he felt at last that he must be getting nearer to theriver. 

But, unfortunately, the lower he plunged downwards the deeper grew theobscurity, while the moisture from the rushing stream made the tangledgrowth more dense. Consequently, he had several times over to stop andfight his way out of some thicket and make a fresh start. 

At such times he took advantage more than once of some low-growinghorizontal oak-boughs, which barred his way and afforded him aresting-place, across which he could lean and make the bough an easysupport for his burden. 

It had seemed but a short distance down to the stream from where hescrutinised his probable path overhead, and doubtless without burden andby the light of day half an hour would have been sufficient to carry himto the river's brink; but it was in all probability that nearer threehours had elapsed before his farther progress was checked by his findinghimself in the midst of a perfect chaos of rocks, just beyond which thewater was falling heavily; and, utterly exhausted, he was glad to lowerhis burden softly down upon a bed of loose shingle and dry sand. 

"There's nothing for it but to wait for day, " he said half-aloud, andthen--after, as best he could in the darkness, placing the wounded boyin a comfortable position and again covering him with his outergarments--he began to feel his way cautiously onward till he found thatevery time and in whatever direction he thrust down the butt of hisrifle it plashed into rushing water which came down so heavily that itsplashed up again into his face, and in spite of the darkness he couldfeel that he was standing somewhere at the foot of a fall where a heavyvolume of water was being dashed down from a considerable height. 

Pen's first proceeding now was to go down upon his knees as close to thetorrent as he could get, and there refill his water-bottle, before(after securing it) he leaned forward and lowered his face until hislips touched the flowing water, and he drank till his terrible thirstwas assuaged. 

This great desire satisfied, he rose again, to stand listening to theheavy rush and roar of the falls, which were evidently close at hand, and whose proximity produced a strange feeling of awe, suggestive, as itwere, of a terrible danger which paralysed him for the time being andheld him motionless lest at his next step he should be swept away. 

The feeling passed off directly as the thought came that his comrade wasinsensible and dependent upon him for help; and it struck him now thathe might not be able in that thick darkness to find the spot where hehad left him. 

This idea came upon him with such force as he made a step first in onedirection and then in another that he began to lose nerve. 

"Oh, it won't do to play the coward now, " he muttered. "I must findhim--I must! I must try till I do. "

But there is something terribly confusing in thick darkness. It is asif a natural instinct is awakened that compels the one who is lost to gowrong; and before Pen Gray had correctly retraced his steps from wherehe had lain down to drink he had probably passed close to his insensiblecompanion at least a score of times, while the sense of confusion, thenearness of danger and a terrible death, grew and grew till in utterdespair and exhaustion he staggered a few steps and sank down almostbreathless. 

"It is no good, " he groaned to himself. "I can do no more. I must waittill daylight. "

As he lay stretched out upon his back, panting heavily from weakness, itseemed to him that the roar of the falling water had redoubled, and thefancy came upon him that there was a tone of mocking triumph over hishelplessness. In fact, the exertion which he had been called upon tomake, the want of sleep, and possibly the exposure during many hours tothe burning sun, had slightly affected his brain, so that his wildimagination conjured up non-existent dangers till all was blank, for hesank into the deep sleep of exhaustion, and lay at last open-eyed, wondering, and asking himself whether the foaming water that wasplunging down a few yards away was part of some dream, in which he waslying in a fairy-like glen gazing at a rainbow, a little iris thatspanned in a bridge of beauty the sparkling water, coming and going asthe soft breeze rose and fell, while the sun sent shafts of lightthrough the dew-sprinkled leaves of the many shrubs and trees thatoverhung the flowing water and nearly filled the glen. 

Sleep still held him in its slackening grasp, and he lay motionless, enjoying the pleasant sense of coolness and rest till his attention wascaught by a black-and-white bird which suddenly came into sight byalighting upon a rock in the midst of the rushing stream. 

It was one of many scattered here and there, and so nearly covered bythe water that every now and then, as the black-and-white bird hurriedhere and there, its legs were nearly covered; but it seemed quite athome, and hurried away, wading easily and seldom using its wings, tillall at once, as Pen watched, he saw the little creature take a step, give its tail a flick, and disappear, not diving but regularly walkinginto deep water, to reappear a few yards away, stepping on to anotherrock, running here and there for a few moments, and again disappearingin the most unaccountable way. 

"It is all a dream, " thought Pen. "Ducks dive, but no bird could walkunder water like that. Why, it's swimming and using its wings like afish's fins. I must be asleep. "

At that moment the bird stepped on to another rock, to stand heel-deep;and as it was passing out of sight with a quick fluttering of its wings, which did not seem to be wetted in the least, Pen made an effort toraise himself on his elbow, felt a dull, aching sensation of strain, andlost sight of the object that had caught his attention. He found, however, that it was no dream, for across the little torrent and high upthe steep, precipitous bank before him he could see a goat contentedlybrowsing upon the tender green twigs of the bushes; while, at his nextmovement, as he tried to raise himself a little more, there withintouch, and half behind him, lay the companion whose very existence hadbeen blotted out of his mind; and he uttered a cry of joy--or ratherfelt that he did, for the sound was covered by the roar of the fallingwater--and dragged himself painfully to where he could lay one hand uponthe bugle-boy's breast. 

"Why, Punch, " he felt that he cried, as the events of the past hourscame back with a rush, "I thought I'd lost you. No, I fancied--I--Here, am I going mad?"

He felt that he shouted that question aloud, and then, sending a pangthrough his strained shoulder, he clapped his hands to his forehead andlooked down wildly at the still insensible boy. 

"Here, Punch! Punch!" he repeated inaudibly. "Speak--answer! I--oh, how stupid!" he muttered--"I am awake, and it is the roar of that waterthat seems to sweep away every other sound. Yes, that must be it;" forjust then he saw that the goat had raised its head as it gazed across athim, and stretched out its neck. 

"Why, it's bleating, " he said to himself, "and I can't hear a sound. "

The efforts he had made seemed to enable him to think more clearly, andhis next act was to rise to his knees stiffly and painfully, and thenbegin to work his joints a little before bending over his companion andshrinkingly laying his hand upon his breast. 

This had the desired effect--one which sent a strange feeling of reliefthrough the young private's breast--for the wondering, questioning eyeshe now met looked bright and intelligent, making him bend lower till hecould speak loudly in the boy's ear the simple question, "How are you?"

He could hardly hear the words himself, but that they had been heard byhim for whom they were intended was evident, for Punch's lips moved inreply, and the next moment, to Pen's delight, he raised one hand to hisparched lips and made a sign as of drinking. 

"Ah, you are better!" cried Pen excitedly, and this time he felt that healmost heard his own words above the deep-toned, musical roar. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

PEN'S PATIENT. 

Punch's appealing sign was sufficient to chase away the imaginativenotions that had beset Pen's awakening. His hand went at once to thewater-bottle slung to his side, and, as he held the mouth to hiscomrade's lips and forgot the pain he suffered in his strained andstiffening joints, he watched with a feeling of pleasure the aviditywith which the boy drank; and as he saw the strange bird flit by oncemore he recalled having heard of such a bird living in the west country. 

"Yes, " he said to himself, "I remember now--the dipper. Busy afterwater-beetles and perhaps after tiny fish. --You are better, Punch, oryou wouldn't drink like that;" and he carefully lowered the boy's headas he ceased drinking. "Yes, and though I can't hear you, you have cometo your senses again, or you would not look at me like that. --Ah, Iforgot all about them!" For a sound other than that produced by thefalling waters came faintly to his ear. It was from somewhere farabove, and echoed twice. "Yes, I had forgotten all about them. "

He began looking anxiously about him, taking in the while that he wasclose to the river where it ran in a deep, precipitous gully; and as helooked up now to right and then to left, eagerly and searchingly, forthe danger that he knew could not be far away, his eyes ranged throughdensely wooded slopes, lit up here and there by the morning sunshine, and always sweeping the sides of the valley in search of the vedettes, but without avail, not even the rugged mule-path that ran along the sidebeing visible. 

"They are not likely to see us here, " Pen said to himself, "and theycan't have seen me coming down. Oh, what a job it was! I feel as if Imust have been walking in my sleep half the time, and I am so stiff Ican hardly move. But I did it, and we must be safe if we can keep outof sight; and that ought to be easy, for they are not likely to comedown here. Now, what's to be done?"

That was a hard question to answer; but growing once more full of energynow that he was satisfied that there was no immediate danger, Penstepped back lamely, as if every muscle were strained, to hiscompanion's side, to be greeted with a smile and a movement of the boy'slips. 

"Now, let's see to your wound, " he said, with his lips to the boy's ear;and he passed one hand under Punch's wounded shoulder to try and turnhim over. This time, as Punch's lips parted and his face grew convulsedwith pain, Pen's ears mastered the roar, and he heard the sufferer'scry. 

"Hurt you too much?" he said, as he once more put his lips to the boy'sear. 

The answer was a nod. 

"Well, " thought Pen, "he must be better, so I'll let him be; but wecan't stop here. I must try and get him through the trees and away fromthis horrible noise. But I can't do it now. At least, I don't think Ican. Then, what's next?"

The inaudible reply to the question came from somewhere inside, and hebent closer over Punch once more. 

"Aren't you hungry?" he roared in his ear. 

The boy shook his head. 

"Well, I am, " shouted Pen. --"Oh, how stupid! This is like telling theenemy where we are, if they are anywhere within hearing. Hullo, whatdoes this mean?" For he suddenly caught sight of the goat springingfrom stone to stone low down the stream as if coming to their side ofthe rushing water; and with the thought filling his mind that a tamegoat like this must have an owner who was more likely to be an enemy ofstrangers than a friend, Pen began searching the rugged slopes on bothsides of the river, but in vain. The goat, which had crossed, was nowcoming slowly towards them, appearing to be quite alone, though soonproving itself to be quite accustomed to the presence of human beings, for it ended by trotting over the sand and shingle at the river's edgetill it had approached them quite closely, to stand bleating at them, doubtless imploringly, though no sound was heard. 

This lasted for a few minutes, and then the goat moved away, passingPunch, and disappearing upward through the dense growth, and apparentlymaking its way up by the side of the great fall. 

No sooner was it out of sight than a thought struck Pen; and, making asign to his companion that meant "I won't be long, " he shouldered hisrifle and began to climb upwards in the direction taken by the goat. 

He was beginning to regret now that he had not started sooner, for therewas no sign of the little beast, and he was about to turn when, just tohis right, he noted faint signs of what seemed to be a slightly usedtrack which was easy to follow, and, stepping out, he observed the treeswere more open, and at the end of a few minutes he found himself levelwith the top of the falls, where the river was gliding along in a deep, glassy sheet before making its plunge over the smooth, worn rocks into abasin below. 

He had just grasped this when he saw that the faint track bore off tothe right, and caught sight of the goat again moving amongst the trees, and for the next few minutes he had no difficulty in keeping it insight, and, in addition, finding that it was making for what seemed tobe the edge of another stream which issued from a patch of woodland onits way to the main torrent. 

"I must get him here if I can, " thought Pen, for the roar of the fallingwaters was subdued into a gentle murmur, and to his surprise he caughtsight of a shed-like building amongst the trees, fenced in by piled-uppieces of stone evidently taken from the smaller stream which heapproached; and it was plain that this was the spot for which the goathad been making. 

The young rifleman stopped short, trying to make out whether the placewas inhabited; but he could see no sign save that the goat was makingfor the stone fence, on to which the active beast leaped, balanceditself carefully for a few moments, and then sprang down on the otherside, to be greeted by a burst of bleating that came from apparently twoof its kind within. 

Pen stood screened by the trees for a time, fully expecting to see someoccupant of the hut make his appearance; but the bleating ceaseddirectly, and, approaching carefully, the young private stood at last bythe rough stone wall, looking down on a scene which fully explained thereason for the goat's visit. 

She had returned to her kids; and after climbing the wall a very littlesearch showed the visitor that the goat and her young ones were the soleoccupants of the deserted place. 

It was the rough home of a peasant who had apparently forsaken it uponthe approach of the French soldiery. Everything was of the simplestkind; but situated as Pen Gray was it presented itself in a palatialguise, for there was everything that he could wish for at a time likethat. 

As before said, it was a shed-like structure; but there was bed andfireplace, a pile of wood outside the door, and, above all, a roof tocover those who sought shelter. 

"Yes, I must bring him here somehow, " thought Pen as he caught sight ofa cleanly scrubbed pail and a tin or two hanging upon nails in the wall. But he saw far more than this, for his senses were sharpened by hunger;and with a smile of satisfaction he hurried out, noting as he passedthem that the kids, keen of appetite, were satisfying their desire forfood; and, hurrying onwards, he made his way back to where he had lefthis companion lying in the dry, sandy patch of shingle; and some hoursof that forenoon were taken up in the painful task of bearing thewounded lad by slow degrees to where, after much painful effort, theycould both look down upon the nearly hidden shed. 

"How are you now, Punch?" asked Pen, turning his head upwards. 

There was no reply. 

"Why, Punch, " cried Pen, "you are not asleep, are you?"

"Asleep!" said the boy bitterly; and then, in a faint whisper, "set medown. "

Pen took a step forward to where he could take hold of a stuntedoak-bough whose bark felt soft and strange; and, holding tightly withone hand, he held his burden with the other while he sank slowly, thebranch bending the while till he was kneeling. Then he slid his loaddown amongst the undergrowth and quickly opened his water-bottle andheld it to the boy's lips. 

"Feel faint, lad?" he said. 

Again there was no answer; but Punch swallowed a few mouthfuls. 

"Ah, that's better, " he said. "Head's swimming. "

"Well, you shall lie still for a few minutes till you think you can bearit, and then I want you to get down to that hut. "

Punch looked up at him with misty eyes, wonderingly. 

"Hut!" he said faintly. "What hut?"

"The one I told you about. You will be able to see it when you arebetter. There's a rough bed there where you will be able to lie andrest till your wound heals. "

"Hut!"

"Oh, never mind now. Will you have some more water?"

The boy shook his head. 

"Not going to die, am I?" he said feebly. 

"Die! No!" cried Pen, with his heart sinking. "A chap like you isn'tgoing to die over a bit of a wound. "

"Don't, " said the boy faintly, but with a tone of protest in his words. "Don't gammon a fellow! I am not going to mind if I am. Our chapsdon't make a fuss about it when their time comes. "

"No, " said Pen sharply; "but your time hasn't come yet. "

The boy looked up at him with a peculiar smile. 

"Saying that to comfort a fellow, " he almost whispered; "only, I say, comrade, you did stick to me, and you won't--won't--"

"Won't what?" said Pen sharply. "Leave you now? Is it likely?"

"Not a bit yet, " said the poor fellow faintly; "but I didn't mean that. "

"Then what did you mean?" cried Pen wonderingly. 

The poor lad made a snatch at his companion's arm, and tried to draw himdown. 

"What is it?" said Pen anxiously now, for he was startled by the look inthe boy's eyes. 

"Want to whisper, " came in a broken voice. 

"No; you can't have anything to whisper now, " said Pen. "There, let megive you a little more water. "

The boy shook his head. 

"Want to whisper, " he murmured in a harsh, low voice. 

"Well, what is it? But you had better not. Shut your eyes and have abit of a nap till you are rested and the faintness has gone. I shall berested, too, then, and I can get you down into the hut, where I tell youthere's a bed, and, better still, Punch, a draught of sweet warm milk. "

"Gammon!" said the boy again; and he hung more heavily upon Pen'sarm. --"Want to whisper. "

"Well, what is it?" said Pen, trying hard to master the feeling ofdespair that was creeping over him. 

"Them wolves!" whispered the boy. "Don't let them get me, comrade, whenI'm gone. "

"You shut your eyes and go to sleep, " cried Pen angrily. 

"No, " said the boy, speaking more strongly now. "I aren't a baby, and Iknow what I'm saying. You tell me you won't let them have me, and thenI will go to sleep; and then if I don't wake up no more--"

"What!" cried Pen, speaking with a simulated anger, "you won't be such acoward as to go and leave me all alone here?"

The boy started; his eyes brightened a little, and he gazedhalf-wonderingly in his companion's face. 

"I--I didn't think of that, comrade, " he faltered. "I was thinking Iwas going like some of our poor chaps; but I don't want to shirk. There, I'll try not. "

"Of course you will, " said Pen harshly. "Now then, try and have a nap. "

The boy closed his eyes, and in less than a minute he was breathingsteadily and well, but evidently suffering now and then in his sleep, for the hand that clasped Pen's gave a sudden jerk at intervals. 

Quite an hour, during which the watcher did not stir, till there was asharper twitch and the boy's eyes opened, to look wonderingly in hiscompanion's as if he could not recall where he was. 

"Have a little water now, Punch?"

"Drop, " he said; but the drop proved to be a thirsty draught, and hespoke quite in his senses now as he put a brief question. 

"Is it far?" he said. 

"To the hut? No. Do you think you can bear me to get you on my backagain?"

"Yes. Going to. Look sharp!"

But as soon as the boy felt his companion take hold of his hand afterrestopping the water-bottle, Punch whispered, "Stop!"

"What is it? Would you like to wait a little longer?"

"No. Give me a bullet out of a cartridge. "

"A bullet? What for?"

"To bite, " said the boy with a grim smile. 

Pen hesitated for a moment in doubt, looking in the boy's smiling eyesthe while. Then, as a flash of recollection of stories he had heardpassed through his mind, he hastily drew a cartridge from his box, brokethe little roll open, scattering the powder and setting the bullet freebefore passing it to his companion, who nodded in silence as he seizedthe piece of lead between his teeth. Then, nodding again, he raised onehand, which Pen took, and seizing one of the branches of the gnarledtree he bent it down till he got it close to his companion, and bade himhold on with all his might. 

Punch's fingers closed tightly upon the bough, which acted like a springand helped to raise its holder sufficiently high for Pen to get him oncemore upon his shoulders, which he had freed from straps thrown downbeside his rifle. 

"Try and bear it, " he panted, as he heard the low, hissing breath fromthe poor fellow's lips, and felt him quiver and wince. "I know it'sbad, " he added encouragingly, "but it won't take me long. "

It did not, for in a very few minutes he had reached the rough stonewall, to which he shifted his burden, stood for a few moments panting, and then climbed over, took the sufferer in his arms, and staggered intothe waiting shelter, where the next minute Punch was lying insensibleupon the bed. 

"Ha!" ejaculated Pen as he passed the back of his hand across hisstreaming forehead. 

This suggested another action, but it was the palm of his hand that helaid across his companion's brow. 

"All wet!" he muttered. "He can't be very feverish for the perspirationto come like that. "

Then he started violently, for a shadow crossed the open door, and heinvoluntarily threw up one hand to draw his slung rifle from hisshoulder, and then his teeth snapped together. 

There was no rifle there. It was lying with his cartouche-box rightaway by the stunted oak, as he mentally called the cork-tree. 

The next minute he was breathing freely, for the deep-toned bleat of thegoat arose, and he looked out, to see that it was answerable for theshadow. 

"Ah, you will have to pay for this, " he muttered, as he started to runto where his weapon lay, his mind full now of thoughts that in hisefforts over his comrade had been absent. 

He was full of expectation that one or other of the vedettes might havecaught sight of him bearing his load to the hut; and, with the fulldetermination to get his rifle and hurry back to defend himself and hiscompanion for as long as the cartridges held out, he started with a runup the slope, which proved to be only the stagger of one who was utterlyexhausted, and degenerated almost into a crawl. 

He was back at last, to find that Punch had not moved, but seemed to besleeping heavily as he lay upon his sound shoulder; and, satisfied bythis, Pen laid his rifle and belts across the foot of the bed and drew adeep breath. 

"I can't help it, " he nearly groaned. "It isn't selfish; but if I don'thave something I can do no more. "

Then, strangely enough, he uttered a mocking laugh as he stepped to arough shelf and took a little pail-like vessel with one stave prolongedinto a handle from the place where it had been left clean by the lastoccupant of the hut, and as he stepped with it to the open doorsomething within it rattled. 

He looked down at it in surprise and wonder, and it was some momentsbefore he grasped the fact that the piece of what resembled blackenedclay was hard, dry cake. 

"Ah!" he half-shouted as he raised it to his lips and tried to bite offa piece, but only to break off what felt like wood, which refused tocrumble but gradually began to soften. 

Then, smiling grimly, he thrust the cake within his jacket and steppedout, forgetting his pain and stiffness, to find to his dismay that therewas no sign of the goat. 

"How stupid!" he muttered the next minute. "My head won't go. I can'tthink. " And, recalling the goat's former visit to the rough shelter, hehurried to where he had been a witness of its object, and to his greatdelight found the animal standing with half-closed eyes nibbling at someof the plentiful herbage while one of its kids was partaking of itsevening meal. 

Pen advanced cautiously with the little wooden vessel, ready to seizethe animal by one of its horns if it attempted to escape, as it turnedsharply and stared at him in wonder; but it only sniffed as if inrecognition at the little pail, and resumed its browsing. But the kidwas disposed to resent the interruption of the stranger, and some littleforce had to be used to thrust it away, returning again and again tobegin to make some pretence of butting at the intruder. 

Pen laughed aloud at the absurdity of his task as he finally got rid ofthe little animal, and made his first essay at milking, finding to hisgreat delight that he was successful, while the goat-mother took it allas a matter of course, and did not move while her new friend refreshedhimself with a hearty draught of the contents of the little pail; andthen, snatching at a happy thought, drew the hardened cake from hisbreast and placed it so that it could soak up the soft warm milk whichflowed into the vessel. 

"Ah!" sighed the young soldier, "who'd have thought that taking theking's shilling would bring a fellow to this? Now for poor Punch. Well, we sha'n't starve to-night. "

Once more as he turned from the goat the thought assailed him that oneof the vedettes might be in sight; but all was still and beautiful as hestepped back slowly, eating with avidity portions of the graduallysoftening black-bread, and feeling the while that life and hope andstrength were gradually coming back. 

"Now for poor Punch!" he muttered again; and, entering the rough shelteronce more, he stood looking down upon the wounded boy, who was sleepingheavily, so soundly that Pen felt that it would be a cruelty to rousehim. So, partaking sparingly of his novel meal, he placed a part upon astool within reach of the rough pallet. 

"Wounded men don't want food, " he muttered. "It's Nature's way ofkeeping off fever; and I must keep watch again, and give him a littlemilk when he wakes. Yes, when he wakes--when he wakes, " he muttered, ashe settled himself upon the earthen floor within touch of his sleepingcomrade. "Mustn't close the door, " he continued, with a little laugh, "for there doesn't seem to be one; and, besides, it would make the placedark. Why, there's a star peeping out over the shoulder of themountain, and that soft, low, deep hum is the falling water. Why, thatmust be the star I used to see at home in the old days; and, oh, howbeautiful and restful everything seems! But I mustn't go to sleep. --Areyou asleep, Punch?" he whispered softly. "Poor fellow! That's right. Sleep and Nature will help you with your wound; but I must keep awake. It would never do for you to rouse up and find me fast. No, " hehalf-sighed. "Poor lad, you mustn't go yet where so many other poorfellows have gone. A boy like you! Well! It's the--fortune--fortune--of war--and--and--"

Nature would take no denial. Pen Gray drew one long, deep, restfulbreath as if wide-awake, and then slowly and as if grudgingly respired. 

Fast asleep. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

MORE ABOUT HIM. 

It was bright daylight, and Pen Gray started up in alarm, his mind in astate of confusion consequent upon the heaviness of his sleep and thefeeling of trouble that something--he knew not what--had happened. 

For a few moments he was divided between the ideas that the enemy hadcome to arrest him and that his companion had passed away in his sleep. But these were only the ragged shadows of the night, for the boy wasstill sleeping soundly, the food remained untouched, and, uponcautiously looking outside, there was nothing to be seen but thebeauties of a sunny morn. 

Pen drew a deep breath as he returned to the hut, troubled with asensation of weariness and strain, but still light-hearted and hopeful. 

There was something invigorating in the mountain air even deep downthere in the valley, and he was ready to smile at his position as hiseyes lit upon the little pail. 

"Oh, I say, " he said to himself, "it is like temptation placed in one'sway! How horribly hungry I am! Well, no wonder; but I must play fair. "

Taking out his knife, he was about to divide the piece of cake, whichhad so swollen up in the milk that there seemed to be a goodly portionfor two; but, setting his teeth hard, he shut the knife with a snap andpulled himself together. 

"Come, " he muttered, "I haven't gone through all this drilling formonths to snatch the first chance to forget it. I will begin the day bywaiting until poor Punch wakes. "

He gave another look at his companion to make sure that he was stillsleeping soundly and was no worse; and then, after glancing at thepriming of his rifle, he stepped out to reconnoitre, keeping cautiouslywithin shelter of the trees, but not obtaining a glimpse of any of thevedettes. 

"Looks as if they have gone, " he thought, and he stepped to the edge ofanother patch of woodland to again sweep the valley-sides as far as waspossible. 

This led him to the edge of the river, where, as soon as he appeared, hewas conscious of the fact that scores of semi-transparent-looking fishhad darted away from close to his feet, to take shelter beneath stonesand the bank higher up the stream, which glided down towards the fallpure as crystal and sparkling in the sun. 

"Trout!" he exclaimed. "Something to forage for; and then a fire. Doesn't look like starving. "

Pen took another good look round, but nothing like a vedette or singlesentry was in view; and after a few moments of hesitation he snatched atthe opportunity. 

Stepping back into the shelter of the woods, he hurriedly stripped, after hanging his rifle from a broken branch, and then dashing out intothe sunshine he leaped at once into the beautiful, clear, sparklingwater, which flashed up at his plunge. Then striking out, he swam withvigorous strokes right into the depths, and felt that he was beingcarried steadily downward towards the fall. 

This was something to make him put forth his strength; and as he struckout upstream so as to reach the bank again there was somethingwondrously invigorating in the cool, crisp water which sent thrills ofstrength through his exhausted frame, making the lad laugh aloud as hefought against the pressure of the water, won, and waded ashore nearly ahundred yards below where he had plunged in. 

"What a stream!" he exclaimed as he shook the streaming water from histense muscles. "I must mind another time. How cold it was! But howhot the sun feels! Double!" he ejaculated, and he started along thebank in a military trot, reached the spot again where he had made hisplunge, looked round, indulged in another run in the brilliant sunshine, and, pretty well half-dried by his efforts, stepped back into the woodand rapidly resumed his clothes. 

"Why, it has pretty well taken the stiffness out of me, " he muttered, "and I feel ready for anything, only I'm nearly famished. Here, I can'twait, " he added, as he finished dressing, smartening himself up intosoldierly trim, and giving his feet a stamp or two as he resumed hisboots. "Now, how about poor Punch? He can't be worse, for he seemed tohave slept so well. It seems hard, but I must wake him up. "

To the lad's great satisfaction, as he reached the door of the roughcabin, he found that the wounded boy was just unclosing his eyes to lookat him wonderingly as if unable to make out what it all meant. 

"Gray, " he said faintly. 

"Yes. How are you, lad?"

"I--I don't quite know, " was the reply, given in a faint voice. --"Oh, Irecollect now. Yes. There, it stings--my wound. "

"Yes, I'll bathe it and see to it soon, " said Pen eagerly; "but you areno worse. "

"Ain't I? I--I thought I was. I say, look here, Gray; what does thismean? I can't lift this arm at all. It hurts so. "

"Yes. Stiff with your wound; but it will be better when I have done itup. "

"Think so?"

"Yes. "

"But look here. "

"Yes, I am looking. "

"This arm isn't wounded. Look at that. "

"Yes, I see; you lifted it up and it fell down again. "

"Yes. There's no strength in it. It ain't dead yet?"

"Didn't seem like it, " said Pen, smiling cheerily. "You lifted it up. "

"Yes, I know; but it fell back again. And what's the matter with myvoice?"

"Nothing. "

"Yes, there is, " cried the boy peevishly. "It's all gone squeaky again, like it was before it changed and turned gruff. I say, Gray, am I goingto be very bad, and never get well again?"

"Not you! What nonsense!"

"But I am so weak. "

"Well, you have seen plenty of our poor fellows in hospital, haven'tyou?"

"Yes, some of them, " said the boy feebly. 

"Well, weren't they weak?"

"Yes, I forgot all that; but I wasn't so bad as this yesterday. It wasyesterday, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Don't you remember?"

"No. How was it?"

"There, don't you bother your brains about that. "

"But I want to know. "

"And I want you to do all you can to get well. "

"Course you do. 'Tisn't fever, is it?"

"Fever! No! Yes, you were feverish. Every one is after a wound. Nowthen, " And he took out and opened his knife. 

"Wound! Wound!" said the boy, watching him. "Whatcher going to dowith your knife? Take your bay'net if you want to finish a fellow off. "

"Well, I don't, " said Pen, laughing. 

"'Tain't anything to laugh at, comrade. "

"Yes, it is, when you talk nonsense. Now then, breakfast. "

"Don't gammon, " said the poor fellow feebly. "My head isn't all swimmynow. Beginning to remember. Didn't you carry me down here?"

"To be sure, and precious heavy you were!"

"Good chap!" said the boy, sighing. "You always was a trump; but don'tplay with a poor fellow. There can't be no breakfast. "

"Oh, can't there? I'll show you; and I want to begin. I say, Punch, I'm nearly starved. "

"I'm not, " said the poor fellow sadly. "I couldn't eat. "

"Oh, well, you have got to, so look sharp, or I shall go mad. "

"Whatcher mean?"

"I told you I'm starving. I have hardly touched anything for two daysexcept water. "

"Well, go on then. What is there for breakfast?"

"Bread. "

"Ugh! Don't! Black dry bread! It makes me feel sick. "

"Bread and milk. "

"Where did you get the milk?"

"Never you mind, " said Pen, plunging his knife into the dark sop whichhalf-filled the little pail. "Now then, you have got to eat first. "

"No, don't ask me; I can't touch it, " and the boy closed his eyesagainst the piece of saturated bread that his companion held out to himon the knife. 

"You must, " said Pen; "so look sharp. "

"I can't, I tell you. "

"Well, then, I shall have to starve. "

"No, no; go on. "

"After you. "

It took a good deal of pressure, but at last the truth of the Frenchsaying about its being only the first step that costs was proved, forafter the first mouthful, of which the poor fellow shudderingly partook, the boy consented to open his mouth again, after holding out until hisamateur surgeon and nurse had consented to share the meal, which provedrefreshing to the patient, who partook of a little; while, bearing inmind that he could at all events restore the fluid food, Pen ateravenously, his spirits rising with every mouthful. 

"It will go hard, " he said to himself, "if I can't forage somethingelse. There are the trout, to begin with. I know I can catch some ofthem in the shallows, and that too without rod or line. That is, " headded, "if we are not found out and marched off as prisoners. "

"Whatcher thinking about?" said Punch drowsily. 

"Catching fish, and making a fire to cook them. "

"There's my flint and steel in my satchel, but where's your fish?"

"In the river. "

"But you can't catch 'em. "

"Oh, can't I, Punch?"

"Oh yes, I know, " piped the boy. "They are trout. I saw some the otherday when we crossed that stream. I saw some run under the stones, andwanted to creep up and tiddle one, only I couldn't leave the ranks. "

"Ah, well, there are no ranks to leave now, Punch, and we shall haveplenty of time to tiddle the trout, as you call it, for we shall have tostay here till you get well. "

"I say, don't talk, please. Want to go to sleep. "

"That's right, " said Pen cheerfully. "Sleep away, and I won't batheyour wound till you wake again. "

The boy made no answer, but dropped off at once. 

"That's better, " thought Pen, "and while he sleeps I will see whether Ican't get some of the trout. "

He waited until his companion was breathing heavily, and then he seatedhimself by the door and began to carefully clean his rifle andaccoutrements, which soldierly task at an end, he stood over thesleeping boy a few minutes, and then stepped outside the dark hut toplunge into the sunshine; but, recollecting himself, he stepped inamongst the trees, and keeping close in their shelter moved from spot tospot spending nearly half an hour searching every eminence for signs ofdanger. 

"The coast seems clear, " he said to himself, "and the enemy may havemoved on; but I must be careful. I want to join our fellows, of course;but if I'm made prisoner it will be the death of poor Punch, for theyare not very careful about prisoners, and--"

Pen stopped short as he held on to the bough of one of the stunted treesgrowing in the rocky bottom and peered out to sweep the side of thevalley where he felt that the mule-track ought to be. 

He started back as if the bullet that had been fired from a musket hadcut the leaves above his head and stood listening to the roll of echoeswhich followed the shot. Then there was another, and another, followedby scores, telling him that a sharp skirmish had begun; and after awhile he could just make out a faint cloud of smoke above the trees, where the dim vapour was slowly rising. 

"Yes, " he said, "that's where I thought the mule-path must be. But whata height it is up! And what does it mean? Are our fellows coming backand driving the enemy before them, or is it the other way on?"

There was no telling; but when, about an hour later, the firing hadgrown nearer and then slowly become more and more distant till it diedaway, Pen had learned one thing, and that was the necessity for keepingcarefully in hiding, for the enemy must be somewhere near. 

He stepped back into the hut after silence once more reigned in thefalse scene of peace, and found that the peppering of the musketry hadhad no effect upon the sleeper, who did not stir when he leant over himand laid his hand upon the poor fellow's forehead, which was cool andmoist. 

"Ha!" sighed Pen, "he's not going to die; but he will be as weak as weakfor a month to come, and I ought to have been with our fellows insteadof hiding here, for I have no business to be doing ambulance work, andso they would tell me. Ah!" he ejaculated, as he started to the dooragain, for from somewhere much farther away there came the deep roll ofa platoon of musketry, which was repeated again and again, but alwaysmore distant, though growing, while still more faintly, into the soundsof a sharp engagement, till it died quite away. 

"I never thought of that. That first firing I heard must have been theenemy. I wonder I didn't think so before. I am sure now. There wasn'ta single shot that I could have said was from a rifle. But it isimpossible to say for certain which side is holding the valley. At anyrate our fellows were not there. "

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

THE KING'S SHILLING. 

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" A bright, ringing specimen of a youth's laugh, givenout by one who is healthy, strong, and fairly content, allowing fordrawbacks, with the utterer's position in life. 

"Whatcher laughing at?" followed in the querulous tones of one who wasto a great extent at the opposite pole of life. 

"You, Punch. "

"I don't see nothing to laugh at, sick and weak as I am. "

"Yes, you are weak enough, and don't know the difference as I do. "

"Difference! There ain't no difference. I'm a regular invalid, as theycalls them, and just as bad as some of our poor chaps who go back tolive on the top of a wooden leg all the rest of their lives. "

"Stuff and nonsense, Punch! You are getting better and stronger everyday. "

"I ain't. Look at that arm; it's as thin as a mop-stick. "

"Well, it is thin, certainly; but a chap of your age, growing fast, generally is thin. "

"Ya! Growing! How can a fellow grow with a hole in his back?"

"You haven't got a hole in your back. It's healing up fast. "

"'Taint. "

"Yes, it is. You haven't seen it, and I have every day. I say it'shealing beautifully. "

"Ah, you'll say next that I ain't weak. "

"No, I shan't. "

"Well, that's because you are always trying to make me think that I ambetter than I am. "

"Well, what of that? I don't want to put you out of heart. "

"No, but you needn't gammon me. I know I ain't as weak as a rat, because I am ten times weaker. I have got no wind at all; and I do wishyou wouldn't be always wallacking me down to that big waterfall. I'malways pumped out before I get half-way there, and quite done up beforeI get back. What's the good of going there?"

"Beautiful place, Punchy, and the mountain air seems to come down withthe water and fill you full of strength. "

"Does you perhaps, but it don't do me no good. Beautiful place indeed!Ugly great hole!"

"'Tisn't; it's lovely. I don't believe we shall ever see a morebeautiful spot in our lives. "

"It makes me horrible. I feel sometimes as if I could jump in and putmyself out of my misery. Just two steps, and a fellow would be washedaway to nowhere. "

"Why, you have regularly got the grumps to-day, Punch; just, too, whenyou were getting better than ever. "

"I ain't, I tell you. I had a look at myself this morning while youwere snoring, and I am as thin as a scarecrow. My poor old motherwouldn't know me again if ever I got back; and I sha'n't never see ourold place no more. "

"Yes, you will, Punch--grown up into a fine, manly-looking Britishrifleman, for you will be too big to blow your bugle then. You mightbelieve me. "

"Bugle! Yes, I didn't give it a rub yesterday. Just hand it off thatpeg. "

Pen reached the bugle from where it hung by its green cord, and thelines in Punch's young forehead began to fade as he gave the instrumenta touch with his sleeve, and then placed the mouthpiece to his lips, filled out his sadly pale, hollow cheeks, and looked as if he were goingto blow with all his might, when he was checked by Pen clapping his handover the glistening copper bell. 

"Whatcher doing of?" cried the boy angrily. 

"Stopping you. There, you see you are better. You couldn't haveattempted that a while ago. "

"Ya! Think I'm such a silly as to bring the enemy down upon us?"

"Well, I didn't know. "

"Then you ought to. I should just like to give the call, though, to setour dear old lads going along the mountain-side there skirmishing andpeppering the frog-eating warmints till they ran for their lives. "

"Hurrah!" shouted Pen. "Who's trying to bring the enemy down upon usnow, when we know there are some of them sneaking about in vedettes asthey hold both ends of the valley. Now you say you are not better ifyou dare. "

"Oh, I don't want to fall out, " grumbled the invalid. "You think youknow, but you ain't got a wound in your back to feel when a cold windcomes off the mountains. I think I ought to know best. "

"But you don't, Punch. Those pains will die out in time, and you willgo on growing, and keeping thin perhaps for a bit; but your muscles willfill out by-and-by, same as mine do in this beautiful air. "

"Needn't be so precious proud of them, " said the boy sourly. 

"I'm not. There, have another fish. "

"Sha'n't. I'm sick to death on them. They are only Spanish orPortuguee trout, and not half so good as roach and dace out of a goodold English pond. "

Pen laughed merrily again. 

"Ah, grin away! I think I ought to know. "

"Yes--better than to grumble when I have broiled the fish so nicely overthe wood embers with sticks I cut for skewers. They were delicious, andI ate till I felt ashamed. "

"So you ought to be. "

"To enjoy myself so, " continued Pen, "while you, with your mouth so outof taste and no appetite, could hardly eat a bit. "

"Well, who's to have a happetite with a wound like mine? I shall neverget no better till I get a mug of real old English beer. "

"Never mind; you get plenty of milk. "

"Ya! Nasty, sickly stuff! I'll never touch it again. "

"Well then, beautiful sparkling water. "

"Who wants sparkling water? 'Tain't like English. It's so thin andcold. "

"Come, come; you must own that you are mending fast, Punch. "

"Who wants to be mended, " snarled the poor fellow, "and go through lifelike my old woman's cracked chayney plate with the rivet in it! I was astrong lad once, and could beat any drummer in the regiment in a race, while now I ought to be in horspital. "

"No, you ought not. I'll tell you what you want, Punch. "

"Oh, I know. "

"No, you don't. You want to get just a little stronger, so as you canwalk ten miles in a day. "

"Ten miles! Why, I used to do twenty easy. "

"So you will again, lad; but I mean in a night, for we shall have to lieup all day and march all night so as to keep clear of the enemy. "

"Then you mean for us to try and get out of this wretched hole?"

"I mean for us to go on tramp as soon as you are quite strong enough;and then you will think it's a beautiful valley. Why, Punch, I havecrept about here of a night while you have been asleep, so that I havegot to know the place by heart, and I should like to have the chance ofleading our fellows into places I know where they could hold it againstten times or twenty times their number of Frenchmen who might try todrive them out. "

"You have got to know that?" said Punch with a show of animation thathad grown strange to the poor fellow. 

"Yes, " cried Pen triumphantly. 

"Well, then, all I have got to say is you waren't playing fair. "

"Of course it wasn't. Seeing you were so weak you couldn't walk. "

"There now, you are laughing at a fellow; but you don't play fair. "

"Don't I? In what way?"

"Why, you promised while I have been so bad that you would read to me abit. "

"And I couldn't, Punch, because we have got nothing to read. "

"And then you promised that you would tell me how it was you come totake the king's shilling. "

"Well, yes, I did; but you don't want to know that. "

"Yes, I do. I have been wanting to know ever since. "

"Why, boy?"

"Because it seems so queer that a lad like you should join the ranks. "

"Why queer? You are too young yet, but you will be in the ranks someday as a full private. "

"Yes, some day; but then, you see, my father was a soldier. Yourswarn't, was he?"

"No-o, " said Pen, frowning and looking straight away before him out ofthe hut-door. 

"Well, then, why don't you speak out?"

"Because I don't feel much disposed. It is rather a tender subject, Punch. "

"There, I always knew there was something. Look here; you and me'sfriends and comrades, ain't we?"

"I think so, Punch. I have tried to be. "

"So you have. Nobody could have been better. I have lain awake lots oftimes and thought about what you did. You haven't minded my saying suchnasty things as I have sometimes?"

"Not I, Punch. Sick people are often irritable. "

"Yes, " said the boy eagerly, "that's it. I have said lots of things toyou that I didn't mean; but it's when my back's been very bad, and itseemed to spur me on to be spiteful, and I have been very sorrysometimes, only I was ashamed to tell you. But you haven't doneanything to be ashamed of?" Pen was silent for a few moments. 

"Ashamed? No--yes. "

"Well, you can't have been both, " said the boy. "Whatcher mean bythat?"

"There have been times, Punch, when I have felt ashamed of what I havedone. "

"Why, what have you done? I don't believe it was ever anything bad. You say what it was. I'll never tell. "

"Enlisted for a soldier. "

"What?" cried the boy. "Why, that ain't nothing to be ashamed of. Whatstuff! Why, that's something to be proud of, specially in our Rifles. In the other regiments we have got out here the lads are proud of beingin scarlet. Let 'em. But I know better. There isn't one of them whowouldn't be proud to be in our dark-green, and to shoulder a rifle. Besides, we have got our bit of scarlet on the collar and cuffs, andthat's quite enough. Why, you are laughing at me! You couldn't beashamed of being in our regiment. I know what it was--you ran away fromhome?"

"It was no longer home to me, Punch. "

"Why, didn't you live there?"

"Yes; but it didn't seem like home any longer. It was like this, Punch. My father and mother had died. "

"Oh, " said the boy softly, "that's bad. Very good uns, waren't they?"

Pen bowed his head. 

"Then it waren't your home any longer?"

"Yes and no, Punch, " said the lad gravely. 

"There you go again! Don't aggravate a fellow when he is sick and weak. I ain't a scholar like you, and when you puts it into me with your `yesand no' it makes my head ache. It can't be yes and no too. "

"Well, Punch, " said Pen, smiling, "it was mine by rights, but I wasunder age. "

"What's under age?"

"Not twenty-one. "

"Of course not. You told me months ago that you was only eighteen. Anybody could see that, because you ain't got no whiskers. But what hasthat got to do with it?"

"Well, I don't see why I should tell you all this, Punch, for it's allabout law. "

"But I want to know, " said the boy, "because it's all about you. "

"Well, it's like this: my father left my uncle to be executor and mytrustee. "

"Oh, I say, whatcher talking about? You said your father was a good un, didn't you?"

"I did. "

"Well, then, he couldn't have left your uncle to be your executionerwhen you hadn't done nothing. "

"Executor, Punch, " said the lad, laughing. 

"Well, that's what I said, didn't I?"

"No; that's a very different thing. An executor is one who executes. "

"Well, I know that. Hangs people who ain't soldiers, and shoots them asis. Court-martial, you know. "

"Punch, you are getting in a muddle. "

"Glad of it, " said the boy, "for I thought it was, and I don't like tohear you talk like that. "

"Then let's put it right. An executor is one who executes the commandsof a person who is dead. "

"Oh, I see, " said the boy. "Dead without being executed. "

"Look here, Punch, " said Pen, laughing, "you had better be still andlisten, and I will try and make it plain to you. My uncle was myfather's executor, who had to see that the property he left wasrightfully distributed. "

"Oh, I see, " said Punch. 

"And my father made him my trustee, to take charge of the money that wasto be mine when I became twenty-one. "

"All right; go on. I am getting it now. "

"Then he had to see to my education, and advise me till I grew up. "

"Well, that was all right, only if I had been your old man, seeing whata chap you are, I shouldn't have called in no uncle. I should havesaid, `Young Penton Gray has got his head screwed on proper, and he willdo what's right. ' I suppose, then, your uncle didn't. "

"I thought not, Punch. "

"Then, of course, he didn't. What did he do, then?"

"Made me leave school, " said Pen. 

"Oh, well, that don't sound very bad. Made you leave school? Well, Inever was at school but once, but I'd have given anything to be made tocome away. "

"Ah, perhaps you would, Punch. But then there are schools and schools. "

"Well, I know that, " said the boy irritably; "but don't tease a fellow, it makes me so wild now I'm all weak like. "

"Well, then, let's say no more about it. "

"What! Leave off telling of me?"

"Yes, while you are irritable. "

"I ain't irritable; not a bit. It's only that I want to know. "

"Very well, then, Punch; I will cut it short. "

"No, you don't, so come now! You promised to tell me all about it, soplay fair. "

"Very well, then, you must listen patiently. "

"That's what I'm a-doing of, only you will keep talking in riddles likeabout your executioners and trustees. I want you to tell me just inplain English. "

"Very well, then, Punch. I was at a military school, and I didn't wantto be fetched away. "

"Oh, I see, " cried the boy. "You mean one of them big schools wherethey makes young officers?"

"Yes. "

"Like Woolwich and Addiscombe?"

"Yes. "

"You were going to be a soldier, then--I mean, an officer?"

"An officer is a soldier, Punch. "

"Of course he is. Oh, well, I don't wonder you didn't want to befetched away. Learning to be an officer, eh? That's fine. Didn't youruncle want you to be a soldier, then?"

"No. He wanted me to go as a private pupil with a lawyer. "

"What, and get to be a lawyer?" cried the boy excitedly. "Oh, I say, you weren't going to stand that?"

"No, Punch. Perhaps I should have obeyed him, only I knew that it hadalways been my father's wish that I should go into the army, and he hadleft the money for my education and to buy a commission when I left themilitary school. "

"Here, I know, " cried the boy excitedly; "you needn't tell me no more. I heard a story once about a wicked uncle. I know--your one bought thecommission and kept it for himself. "

"No, Punch; that wouldn't work out right. When I begged him to let mestay at the military school he mocked at me, and laughed, and said thatmy poor father must have been mad to think of throwing away money likethat; and over and over again he insisted that I should go on with mystudies of the law, and give up all notion of wearing a red coat, for hecould see that that was all I thought about. "

"Well?" said the boy. 

"Well, Punch?"

"And then you punched his head, and ran away from home. "

"No, I did not. "

"Then you ought to have done. I would if anybody said my poor fatherwas mad; and, besides, your uncle must have been a bad un to want tomake you a lawyer. I suppose he was a lawyer too. "

"Yes. "

"There, if I didn't think so! But he must have been a bad un. Said youwanted to be a soldier so as to wear the uniform? Well, if you did wantto, that's only nat'ral. A soldier's always proud of his uniform. Iheard our colonel say that it was the king's livery and something to beproud on. I am proud of mine, even if it has got a bit raggy-taggy withsleeping out in it in all sorts of weather, and rooshing through bushesand mud, and crossing streams. But soldiers don't think of that sort ofthing, and we shall all have new things served out by-and-by. Well, goon. "

"Oh, that's about all, Punch. "

"You get on. I know better. Tain't half all. I want you to come tothe cutting off and taking the shilling. "

"Oh, you want to hear that?"

"Why, of course I do. Why, it's all the juicy part. Don't hang fire. Let's have it with a rush now. Fix bayonets, and at them!"

"Why, Punch, " said Pen, laughing, "don't you tell me again that you arenot getting better!"

"I waren't going to now. This warms a fellow up a bit. I say, youruncle is a bad un, and no mistake. There, forward!"

"But I have nearly told all, Punch. Life got so miserable at home, andI was so sick of the law, that I led such a life with my uncle throughbegging him to let me go back to the school, that he, one day--"

"Well, whatcher stopping for?" cried the boy, whose cheeks were flushedand eyes sparkling with excitement. 

"I don't like talking about it, " replied Pen. "I suppose I was wrong, for my father had left all the management of my affairs in hisbrother-in-law's hands. "

"Why, you said your uncle's hands just now!"

"Yes, Punch; in my mother's brother's hands, so he was my uncle. "

"Well, go on. "

"And I had been begging him to alter his plans. "

"Yes, and let you go back to the school?"

"And I suppose he was tired out with what he called my obstinacy, and hetold me that if ever I dared to mention the army again he would give mea sound flogging. "

"And you up and said you would like to catch him at it?" cried Punchexcitedly. "No, Punch; but I lost my temper. "

"Enough to make you! Then you knocked him down?"

"No, Punch, but I told him he was forgetting the commands my father hadgiven him, and that I would never go to the lawyer's office again. "

"Well, and what then?"

"Then, Punch? Oh, I don't like to talk about it. It makes me feel hotall over even to think. "

"Of course it does. It makes me hot too; but then, you see, I'm weak. But do go on. What happened then?"

"He knocked me down, " said the lad hoarsely. 

"Oh!" cried the boy, trying to spring up from his rough couch, butsinking back with the great beads of perspiration standing upon hisbrown forehead. "Don't you tell me you stood that!"

"No, Punch; I couldn't. That night I went right away from home, just asI stood, made my way to London, and the next day I went to King Street, Westminster, and saw where the recruiting sergeants were marching up anddown. "

"I know, " cried the boy, "with their canes under their arms and theircolours flying. "

"Yes, Punch, and I picked out the one in the new regiment, the --thRifles. "

"Yes, " cried Punch, "the Rifle green with the red collars and cuffs. "

Pen, half-excited by his recollections, half-amused at the boy's intenseinterest, nodded again. 

"And took the king's shilling, " cried Punch; "and I know, but I want youto tell me--you joined ours just to show that uncle that you wanted toserve the king, and not for the sake of the scarlet coat. "

"Yes, Punch, that was why; and that's all. "

CHAPTER NINE. 

HOW TO TREAT AN ENEMY. 

"Well, but is that all?" said Punch. 

"Yes, and now you are tired and had better have a nap, and by the timeyou wake I will have some more milk for you. "

"Bother the old milk! I'm sick of it; and I don't want to go to sleep. I feel sometimes as if I had nearly slept my head off. A fellow can'tbe always sleeping. Now, look here; I tell you what you have got to dosome day. You must serve that uncle of yours out. "

"Let him rest. You are tired and weak. "

"No, I ain't. All that about you has done me good. I did not know thatyou had had such a lot of trouble, sir. "

"Ah, what's that, Punch!" cried Pen sharply. "Don't you say `sir' to meagain!"

"Shall if I like. Ain't you a gentleman?"

"No, sir. Only Private Penton Gray, of the --th Rifles. "

"Well, you are a-saying `sir' to me. "

"Yes, but I don't mean it as you do. While I am in the regiment we areequals. "

"Oh yes, I like that!" said the boy with a faint laugh. "Wish we was. Only Private Penton Gray of the --th! Well, ain't that being agentleman? Don't our chaps all carry rifles? They are not like theline regiments with their common Brown Besses. Sharpshooters, that'swhat we are. But they didn't shoot sharp enough the other day, or elsewe shouldn't be here. I have been thinking when I have been lyinghalf-asleep that there were so many Frenchies that they got our ladsbetween two fires and shot 'em all down. "

"I hope not, Punch. What makes you think that?"

"Because if they had been all right they would have been after us beforenow to cut us out, and--and--I say, my head's beginning to swim again. "

"Exactly, you are tired out and must go to sleep again. "

"But I tell you I don't--"

The poor boy stopped short, to gaze appealingly in his companion's eyesas if asking for help, and the help Pen gave was to lay his hand gentlyon his eyelids and keep it there till he felt that the sufferer had sunkinto a deep sleep. 

The next day the poor fellow had quite a serious relapse, and laylooking so feeble that once more Pen in his alarm stood watching andblaming himself for rousing the boy into such a state of excitement thathe seemed to have caused him serious harm. 

But just as Punch seemed at the worst he brightened up again. 

"Look here, " he said, "I ain't bad. I know what it is. "

"So do I, " replied Pen. "You have been trying your strength too much. "

"Wrong!" cried the boy faintly. "It was you give me too much to eat. You ought to have treated me like a doctor would, or as if I was aprisoner, and given me dry bread. "

"Ah!" sighed Pen. "But where was the bread to come from?"

"Jusso, " said Punch, with a faint little laugh; "and you can't makebread without flour, can you? But don't you think I'm going to die, because I am ever so much better to-day, and shall be all right soon. Now, go on talking to me again about your uncle. "

"No, " said Pen, "you have heard too much of my troubles already. "

"Oh no, I ain't. I want to hear you talk about it. "

"Then you will have to wait, Punch. "

"All right, then. I shall lie and think till my head begins to go roundand round, and I shall go on thinking about myself till I get allmiserable and go backwards. You don't want that, do you?"

"You know I don't. "

"Very well, then, let's have some more uncle. It's like doctor's stuffto me. I've been thinking that you might wait a bit, and then go andsee that lawyer chap and punch his head, only that would be such acommon sort of way. It would be all right if it was me, but it wouldn'tdo for you. This would be better. I have thought it out. "

"Yes, you think too much, Punch, " said Pen, laying his hand upon hiscompanion's forehead. 

"I wish you wouldn't do that, " cried the boy pettishly. "It's nice andcool now. "

"Yes, it is better now. That last sleep did you good. "

"Not it, for I was thinking all the time. "

"Nonsense! You were fast asleep. "

"Yesterday, " said the boy; "but I was only shamming to-day, so that Icould think, and I have been thinking that this would do. You must waittill we have whopped the French and gone back to England, and got ournew uniforms served out, and burnt all our rags. Then we must go andsee your uncle, and--"

"That'll do, Punch. I want to see to your wound now. "

"What for? It's going on all right. Here, whatcher doing of? Youain't going to cut up that other sleeve of your shirt, are you?"

"Yes; it is quite time that you had a fresh bandage. "

"Ah, that's because you keep getting it into your head that I'm worseand that I'm going to die; and it's all wrong, for I am going to be allright. The Frenchies thought they'd done for me; but I won't die, outof spite. I am going to get strong again, and as soon as the colonellets me carry a rifle I will let some of them have it, and--Oh, verywell; if you must do it, I suppose I must lie still; only get it over. But--ya! I don't mean to die. What's the good of it, when there's somuch for us to do in walloping the French? But when we do get back tothe regiment you see how I will stick up for you, and what a lot I willmake the chaps think of you!"

"Will you keep your tongue quiet, Punch?"

"No, I sha'n't, " said the boy with a mocking laugh. "There, you needn'ttie that so tight so as to make it hurt me, because I shall go ontalking all the same--worse. You always begin to shy and kick out likeone of those old mules when I begin talking to you like this. You hatesto hear the truth. I shall tell the chaps every blessed thing. "

But, all the same, Punch lay perfectly still now until the dressing ofhis wound was at an end; and then very faintly, almost in a whisper, hesaid, "Yes; our chaps never knew what a good chap--"

"Ah! Asleep again!" said Pen, with a sigh of relief. "There must beslight delirium, and I suppose I shall be doing no good by trying tostop him. Poor fellow! He doesn't know how he hurts me when he goeswandering on like this. I wish I could think out some way of getting achange of food. Plenty of milk, plenty of fish. I have been as far asI dared in every direction, but there isn't a trace of a cottage. Idon't want much--only one of those black-bread cakes now and then. Anyone would have thought that the people in a country like this would havekept plenty of fowls. Perhaps they do where there are any cottages. Ah, there's no shamming now. He's fast enough asleep, and perhaps whenhe awakes he will be more himself. "

But poor Punch's sleep only lasted about half an hour, and then he wokeup with his eyes glittering and with a strangely eager look in hiscountenance, as he stretched out the one hand that he could use. 

"Yes, " he said, "that's it. I know what you will have to do. Go tothat uncle of yours--"

"Punch, lad, " cried Pen, laying his hand softly upon the one that hadclosed upon his wrist, "don't talk now. "

"I won't much, only it stops my head from going round. I just want tosay--"

"Yes, I know; but I have been watching a deal while you slept. "

"What for?" cried the boy. 

"To make sure that the enemy did not surprise us. "

"Ah, you are a good chap, " said the boy, pressing his wrist. 

"And I am very tired, and when you talk my head begins to go round too. "

"Does it? Well, then, I won't say much; only I have got this into myhead, and something seems to make me tell you. "

"Leave it till to-morrow morning, then. "

"No; it must come now, for fear I should forget it. What you have to dois to go to your uncle like an officer and a gentleman--"

"Punch, Punch!"

"All right; I have just done. Pistols like an officer--same as theyuses when they fights duels. Then you walks straight up to him, withyour head in the air, and you says to him, `You don't desarve it, sir, but I won't take any dirty advantage of you; so there's the pistols, 'you says. `Which will you choose? For we are going to settle thislittle affair. ' Then I'll tell you how it is. Old Pat Reilly--who wasa corporal once, before he was put back into the ranks--I heerd himtelling our chaps over their pipes how he went with the doctor of theregiment he was in to carry his tools to mend the one of them who washurt. He called it--he was an Irishman, you know--a jool; and he saidwhen you fight a jool, and marches so many paces, and somebody--not thedoctor, but what they calls the second--only I think Pat made a mistake, because there can't be two seconds; one of them must be a first or athird--"

"There, Punch, tell me the rest to-morrow. "

"No, " said the boy obstinately; but his voice was growing weaker. "Ihave just done, and I shall be better then, for what I wanted to saywill have left off worrying me. Let's see what it was. Oh, I know. You stands opposite to your uncle, turns sideways, raises your pistol, takes a good aim at him, and shoots him dead. Now then, what do you sayto that?"

"That I don't want to shoot him dead, Punch. "

"You don't?"

"No. "

"Why, isn't he your enemy?"

"I don't know. "

"Then I suppose that won't do. "

"I'm afraid not, Punch. "

"Then you must wait a little longer till you get promoted for bravery inthe field. You will be Captain Gray then, and then you can go to him, and look him full in the face, and smile at him as if you felt that hewas no better than a worm, and ask him what he thinks of that. "

"What! Of my captain's uniform, Punch?"

"No, I mean you smiling down at him as if he wasn't worth your notice. "

"Ah, that sounds better, Punch. "

"Then, you think that will do?"

"Yes. "

"Then, now I will go to sleep. "

"Ah, and get better, Punch. "

"Oh yes, I am going to get better now. "

With a sigh of satisfaction, the boy closed his eyes, utterly exhausted, and lay breathing steadily and well, while Pen stood leaning over himwaiting till he felt sure that the boy was asleep; and then, as he laidhis hand lightly upon his patient's brow, a sense of hopefulness cameover him on feeling that he was cool and calm. 

"There are moments, " he thought to himself, "when it seems as if I oughtto give up as prisoners, for it is impossible to go on like this. Poorfellow, he wants suitable food, and think how I will I don't know what Icould do to get him better food. I should be to blame if I stand by andsee him die for want of proper nourishment. " And it seemed to him thathis depressing thoughts had affected his eyes, for the cabin had growndull and gloomy, and his despair became more deep. 

"Oh, it's no use to give way, " he muttered. "There must be food of somekind to be found if I knew where to forage for it. Why not kill one ofthe kids?"

He stopped short in his planning and took a step forward, to pass roundthe rough heather pallet, thus bringing him out of the shadow into thelight and face to face with a girl of about seventeen or eighteen, whowas resting one hand upon the doorpost and peering in at the occupant ofthe rough bed, but who now uttered a faint cry and turned to run. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

TALKING IN HIS SLEEP. 

"No, no! Pray, pray, stop!" cried Pen, dashing out after his strangevisitor, who was making for the edge of the nearest patch of wood. 

The imploring tone of his words had its effect, though the tongue wasforeign that fell upon the girl's ears, and she stopped slowly, to lookback at him; and, then as it seemed to dawn upon her what her pursuerwas, she slowly raised her hands imploringly towards him, the gestureseeming to speak of itself, and say, "Don't hurt me! I am only ahelpless girl. "

Then she looked up at him in wonder, for Pen raised his in turn, as heexclaimed, "Don't run away. I want your help. "

The girl shook her head. 

"_Ingles_. "

"_Si, si, Ingles, Ingles_. Don't go. I won't hurt you. "

"_Si, si, Ingles_, " said the girl with some animation now. 

"Ah, she understands that!" thought Pen; and then aloud, "Help!Wounded!" and he pointed at the open door. 

The girl looked at him, then at the door, and then shook her head. 

"Can you understand French?" cried Pen eagerly; and the girl shook herhead again. 

"How stupid to ask like that!" muttered Pen; and then aloud, "Help!Wounded. "

The girl shook her head once more, and then started and struggledslightly as Pen caught her by the arm. 

"Don't fight, " he cried. "Help! help!" And he gesticulated towards thehut as he pointed through the door at the dimly seen bed, while the girlheld back at arm's-length, gazing at him wildly, until a happy thoughtstruck him, for he recalled the words that he had more than once heardused by the villagers while he and his fellows were foraging. 

"_El pano_, " he cried; "_el pano_--bread, bread!" And he pointed to thedimly seen boy and then to his own mouth. 

"_Si, el pano_!" cried the girl, ceasing her faint struggle. 

"_Si, si_!" cried Pen again, and he joined his hands together for amoment before slowly beckoning their visitor to follow him into thecottage. 

He stepped in, and then turned to look back, but only to find that thegirl still held aloof, and then turned to look round again as if insearch of help. As she once more glanced in his direction with eyesthat were full of doubt, Pen walked round to the back of the roughpallet, placing the bed between them, and then beckoned to the girl tocome nearer as he pointed downward at his sleeping patient. 

Their visitor still held aloof, till Pen raised his hands towards her, joining them imploringly, and his heart leaped with satisfaction as shebegan slowly and cautiously to approach. 

And now for his part he sank upon his knees, and as she watched him, looking ready to dart away at any moment, he placed one finger upon hislips and raised his left hand as if to ask for silence, while he utteredsoftly the one word, "Hush!"

To his great satisfaction the girl now approached till her shadow fellacross the bed, and, supporting herself by one hand, she peered in. 

"I'd give something if I could speak Spanish now, " thought Pen. "Whatcan I do to make her understand that he is wounded? She ought to beable to see. Ah, I know!"

He pointed quickly to his rifle, which was leaning against the bed, andthen downward at where the last-applied bandage displayed one end. Then, pointing to poor Punch's face, he looked at the girl sadly andshook his head. 

It was growing quite dusk inside the hut, but Pen was able to see thegirl's face light up as, without a moment's hesitation now she steppedquickly through the rough portal and bent down so that she could lightlytouch the sleeper's hand, which she took in hers as she bent lower andthen rose slowly, to meet Pen's inquiring look; and as she shook herhead at him sadly he saw that her eyes were filling with tears. 

"Sick, " he whispered; "dying. _El pano, el pano_;" and his nextmovement was telling though grotesque, for he opened his mouth and madesigns of eating, before pointing downward at the boy. 

"_Si, si_, " cried the girl quickly, and, turning to the door again, shepassed through, signing to him to follow, but only to turn back, pointto the little pail that stood upon the floor by the bed's head, andindicate that she wanted it. 

Pen grasped her meaning, caught up the pail, handed it to her, and quitesimply and naturally sank upon one knee and bent over to lightly kissthe girl's extended hand, which closed upon the edge of the littlevessel. 

She shrank quickly, and a look of half-dread, half-annoyance came uponher countenance; but, as Pen drew back, her face smoothed and she noddedquickly, pointed in the direction of the big fall, made two or threesignificant gestures that might or might not have meant, "I'll soon beback, " and then whispered, "_El pano, el pano_;" and ran off over therugged stones as swiftly as one of her own mountain goats. 

"Ha!" said Pen softly, as he sighed with satisfaction, "_el pano_ meansbread, plain enough, and she must have understood that. Gone, " headded, as the girl disappeared. "Then there must be another cottagesomewhere in that direction, and I am going to hope that she will comeback soon with something to eat. Who could have thought it?--Butsuppose she has gone to join some of the French who are about here, andcomes back with a party to take us prisoners!--Oh, she wouldn't be sotreacherous; she can't look upon us as enemies. We are not fightingagainst her people. But I don't know; they must look upon us as made upof enemies. No, no, she was only frightened, and no wonder, to find usin her hut, for it must be hers or her people's. Else she wouldn't havecome here. No, a girl like that, a simple country girl, would onlythink of helping two poor lads in distress, and she will come back andbring us some bread. "

As Pen stood watching the place where the girl had disappeared his handwent involuntarily to his pocket, where he jingled a few _pesetas_ thathe had left; and then, as he canvassed to himself the possibility of thegirl's return before long, he went slowly back into the hut and stoodlooking down at the sleeper. 

"Bread and milk, " he said softly. "It will be like life to him. Buthow queer it seems that I should be worrying myself nearly to death, giving up my clothes to make him comfortable, playing doctor and nurse, and nearly starving myself, for a boy for whom I never cared a bit. Icouldn't have done any more for him if he had been my brother. Why, when I used to hear him speak it jarred upon me, he seemed so coarse andcommon. It's human nature, I suppose, and I'm not going to doubt thatpoor girl again. She looks common and simple too--a Spanish peasant, Isuppose, who had come to milk and see to the goats after perhaps beingfrightened away by the firing. A girl of seventeen or eighteen, Ishould say. Well, Spanish girls would be just as tender-hearted as oursat home. Of course; and she did just the same as one of them would havedone. She looked sorry for poor Punch, and I saw one tear trickle overand fall down. --There, Punch, boy; we shall be all right now if theFrench don't come. "

Pen stepped out in the open and seated himself upon a piece of mossyrock where he could gaze in the direction where he had last seen hisvisitor. But it was all dull and misty now. There was the distantmurmur of the great fall, the sharp, sibilant chirrup of crickets. Thegreat planet which had seemed like a friend to him before had risen frombehind the distant mountain, and there was a peculiar sweet, warmperfume in the air that made him feel drowsy and content. 

"Ah, " he sighed, "they say that when things are at their worst theybegin to mend. They are mending now, and this valley never felt, neverlooked, so beautiful before. How one seems to breathe in the sweet, soft, dewy night-air! It's lovely. I don't think I ever felt so trulyhappy. There, it's of no use for me to watch that patch of wood, for Icould not see our visitor unless she was coming with a lantern; andperhaps she has had miles to go. Well, watching the spot is doing nogood, and if she's coming she will find her way, and she is more likelynot to lose heart if I'm in the hut, for I might scare her away. Here, let's go in and see how poor old Punch is getting on! But I neverthought--I never could have imagined--when I was getting up my `lessonsfor to-morrow morning' that the time would come when I should be waitingand watching in a Spanish peasant's hut for some one to come and bringme in for a wounded comrade a cake of black-bread to keep us bothalive. "

Pen Gray walked softly in the direction of the dimly seen hut throughheathery brush, rustling at every step and seeming to have the effect ofmaking him walk on tiptoe for fear he should break the silence of thesoft southern evening. 

The lad stopped and listened eagerly, for there was a distant shout thatsuggested the hailing of a French soldier who had lost his way in theforest. Then it was repeated, "Ahoy-y-hoy-hoy-y-y!" and answered fromfar away, and it brought up a suggestion of watchful enemies searchingfor others in the darkened woods. 

Then came another shout, and an ejaculation of impatience from thelistener. 

"I ought to have known it was an owl. Hallo! What's that? Has shecome back by some other way?"

For the sound of a voice came to him from inside the rough hut, makinghim hurry over the short distance that separated him from the door, where he stood for a moment or two listening, and he heard distinctly, "Not me! I mean to make a big fight for it out of spite. Shoot medown--a boy--for obeying orders! Cowards! How would they like itthemselves?"

"Why, Punch, lad, " said Pen, stepping to the bedside and leaning overhis comrade, "what's the matter? Talking in your sleep?"

There was no reply, but the muttering voice ceased, and Pen laid hishand upon the boy's forehead, as he said to himself, "Poor fellow! Agood mess of bread-and-milk would save his life. I wonder how long shewill be!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

PUNCH'S COMMISSARIAT. 

It was far longer than Pen anticipated, for the darkness grew deeper, the forest sounds fainter and fainter, and there were times when thewatcher went out to listen and returned again and again to find Punchsleeping more restfully, while the very fact that the boy seemed so calmappeared to affect his comrade with a strange sense of drowsiness, outof which he kept on rousing himself, muttering the while with annoyance, "I can't have her come and find me asleep. It's so stupid. She must behere soon. "

And after a trot up and down in the direction in which he had seen thegirl pass, and back, he felt better. 

"Sleep is queer, " he said to himself. "I felt a few minutes ago as if Icouldn't possibly keep awake. "

He softly touched Punch's temples again, to find them now quite cool, and seating himself at the foot of the rough pallet he began to thinkhopefully of the future, and then with his back propped against therough woodwork he stared wonderingly at the glowing orange disc of thesun, which was peering over the mountains and sending its level raysright through the open doorway of the hut. 

Pen gazed at the soft, warm glow wonderingly, for everything seemedstrange and incomprehensible. 

There was the sun, and here was he lying back with his shoulders againstthe woodwork of the rough bed. But what did it all mean?

Then came the self-evolved answer, "Why, I have been asleep!"

Springing from the bed, he just glanced at his softly breathingcompanion as he ran out to look once more in the direction taken by thegirl. 

Then he stepped back again in the hope that she might have returnedduring the night and brought some bread; but all was still, and not asign of anybody having been there. 

Pen's heart sank. 

"Grasping at shadows, " he muttered. "Here have I been wasting time oversleep instead of hunting for food. "

Ignorant for the time being of the cause of the wretched feeling ofdepression which now stole over him, and with no friendly voice at handto say, "Heart sinking? Despondent? Why, of course you are ready tothink anything is about to occur now that you are literally starving!"Pen had accepted the first ill thought that had occurred to him, andthis was that his companion had turned worse in the night and was dying. 

Bending over the poor fellow once more, he thrust a hand within thebreast of his shirt, and his spirits sank lower, for there was noregular throbbing beat in response, for the simple reason that in hishurry and confusion of intellect he had not felt in the right place. 

"Oh!" he gasped, and his own voice startled him with its husky, despairing tone, while he bent lower, and it seemed to him that he couldnot detect the boy's breath playing upon his cheek. 

"Oh, what have I done?" he panted, and catching at the boy's shouldershe began to draw him up into a sitting position, with some wild ideathat this would enable him to regain his breath. 

But the next moment he had lowered him back upon the rough pallet, for acry Punch uttered proved that he was very much alive. 

"I say, " he cried, "whatcher doing of? Don't! You hurt?"

"Oh, Punch, " cried Pen, panting hard now, "how you frightened me!"

"Why, I never did nothink, " cried the boy in an ill-used tone. 

"No, no. Lie still. I only thought you were getting worse. You wereso still, and I could not hear you breathe. "

"But you shouldn't, " grumbled the wounded boy surlily, as he screwedfirst one shoulder up to his ear and then the other. "Hff! You didhurt! What did you expect? Think I ought to be snoring? I say, though, give a fellow some more of that milk, will you? I'm thirsty. Couldn't you get some bread--not to eat, but to sop in it?"

"I don't think I could eat anything, but--" The boy stopped short as helay passing his tongue over his fever-cracked lips, for the doorway ofthe miserable cabin was suddenly darkened, and Pen sprang round to findhimself face to face with his visitor of the previous evening, who stoodbefore him with the wooden vessel in one hand and a coarse-lookingbread-cake in the other. 

She looked searchingly and suspiciously at Pen for a few moments; andthen, as if seeing no cause for fear, she stepped quickly in, placed thefood she had brought upon the rough shelf, and then bent over Punch andlaid one work-roughened hand upon the boy's forehead, while he stared upat her wonderingly. 

The girl turned to look round at Pen, and uttered a few words hurriedlyin her Spanish patois. Then, as if recollecting herself, she caught thebread-cake from where she had placed it, broke a piece off, and put itin the young rifleman's hand, speaking again quickly, every word beingincomprehensible, though her movements were plain enough as she signedto him to eat. 

"Yes, I know what you mean, " said Pen smiling; "but I want the bread forhim, " and he pointed to the wounded boy. 

The peasant-girl showed on the instant that though she could notunderstand the stranger's words his signs were clear enough. She brokeoff another piece of the bread and took down the little wooden-handledpail, which was half-full of warm milk. This she held up to Pen, andsigned to him to drink; but he shook his head and pointed to Punch. This produced a quick, decisive nod of the head, as the girl wrinkled upher forehead and signed in an insistent way that Pen should drink first. 

He obeyed, and then the girl seated herself upon the bed and began tosop pieces of the bread and hold them to Punch's lips. 

"Thenkye, " he said faintly, and for the first time for many days the boyshowed his white teeth, as he smiled up in their visitor's face. "'Tisgood, " he said, and his lips parted to receive another fragment of themilk-softened bread, which was given in company with a bright girlishsmile and a few more words. 

"I say, " said Punch, slowly turning his head from side to side, "Isuppose you can't understand plain English, can you?"

The girl's voice sounded very pleasant, as she laughingly replied. 

"Ah, " said Punch, "and I can't understand plain Spanish. But I knowwhat you mean, and I will try to eat. --'Tis good. Give us a bit more. "

For the next ten minutes or so the peasant-girl remained seated upon thebedside attending to the wounded boy, breaking off the softer portionsof the cake, soaking them in the warm milk, and placing them to thesufferer's lips, and more than once handing portions of the cake to Penand giving him the clean wood vessel so that he might drink, while thesun lit up the interior of the hut and lent a peculiar brightness to theintently gazing eyes of its three occupants, till the rustic breakfastcame to an end, this being when Punch kept his lips closed, gazed upstraight in the girl's face, and smiled and shook his head. 

"Good!" said the girl in her native tongue, and she nodded and laughedin satisfaction before playfully making believe to close the boy's eyes, and ending by keeping her hand across the lids so that he mightunderstand that he was now to sleep. 

To this Punch responded by taking the girl's hand in his and holding itfor a few moments against his cheek before it was withdrawn, when thepoor wounded lad turned his face away so that no one should see that aweak tear was stealing down his sun-browned cheek. 

But the girl saw it, and her own eyes were wet as she turned quickly toPen, pointed to the bread and milk, signed to him that he should go oneating, and then hurried out into the bright sunshine, Pen following, tosee that she was making straight for the waterfall. 

The next minute she had disappeared amongst the trees. 

"Well, Punch, " cried Pen, as he stepped back to the hut, "feel betterfor your breakfast?"

"Better? Yes, of course. But I say, she didn't see me snivelling, didshe?"

"Yes, I think so; and it made her snivel too, as you call it. Of courseshe was sorry to see you so weak and bad. "

"Ah!" said Punch, after a few moments' silence, during which he had lainwith his eyes shut. 

"What is it? Does your wound hurt you?"

"No; I forgot all about it. I say, I should like to give that girlsomething, because it was real kind of her; but I ain't got nothing buta sixpence with a hole in it, and she wouldn't care for that, becauseit's English. "

"Well, I don't know, Punch. I dare say she would. A good-hearted girllike that wouldn't look upon its value, but would keep it out ofremembrance of our meeting. "

"Think so?" said Punch eagerly, and with his eyes sparkling. "Oh, don'tI wish I could talk Spanish!"

"Oh, never mind that, " said Pen. "Think about getting well. But, allthe same, I wish I could make her understand so that she could guide meto where our fellows are. "

"Eh?" cried the boy eagerly. "You ain't a-going to run away and leaveme here, are you?"

"Is it likely, Punch?"

"Of course not, " cried the boy. "Never you mind what I say. I getmuddly and stupid in my head sometimes, and then I say things I don'tmean. "

"Of course you do; I understand. It's weakness, " said Pen cheerily;"but you are getting better. "

"Think so, comrade? You see, I ain't had no doctor. "

"Yes, you have. Nature's a fine doctor; and if we can keep in hidinghere a few days more, and that girl will keep on bringing us bread andmilk, you will soon be in marching order; so we are not going to be inthe dumps. We will find our fellows somehow. "

"To be sure we will, " said Punch cheerfully, as he wrenched himself alittle over, wincing with pain the while. 

"What is it, Punch? Wound hurt you again?"

"Yes; horrid, " said the boy with a sigh. 

"Then, why don't you lie still? You should tell me you wanted to move. "

"Yes, all right; I will next time. It did give me a stinger. Sets afellow thinking what some of our poor chaps must feel who get shot downand lie out in the mountains without a comrade to help them--a comradelike you. I shall never--"

"Look here, Punch, " interrupted Pen, "I don't like butter. "

"I do, " said the boy, with his eyes dancing merrily. "Wished I had hadsome with that bread's morning. "

"Now, you know what I mean, " cried Pen; "and mind this, if you gettalking like that to me again I will go off and leave you. "

"Ha, ha!" said the boy softly, "don't believe you. All right then, Iwon't say any more if you don't like it; but I shall think about it allthe more. "

"There you go again, " cried Pen. "What is it you want? What are youtrying to get? You are hurting yourself again. "

"Oh, I was only trying to get at that there sixpence, " said the poorfellow, with a dismal look in his face. "I'm half-afraid it's lost. --No, it ain't! I just touched it then. "

"Then don't touch it any more. "

"But I want it. "

"No, you don't, not till that girl comes; and you had better keep ittill we say good-bye. "

"Think so?" said Punch. 

Pen nodded. 

"You think she will come again, then?"

"She is sure to. "

"Ah, " said Punch, rather drowsily now, "I say, how nice it feels for anyone to be kind to you when you are bad. "

"Very, " said Pen thoughtfully. "Pain gone off?"

"Yes; I am all right now. Think she will come back soon?"

"No, not for hours and hours. "

"Oh, I say, Pen. Think it would be safe for me to go to sleep?"

"Yes, quite. "

"Then I think I will, for I feel as if I could sleep for a week. "

"Go to sleep then. It's the best thing you can do. "

"Well, I will. Only, promise me one thing: if she comes while I'masleep, I--I--want you--promise--promise--wake--"

"Poor fellow!" said Pen, "he's as weak as weak. But that breakfast hasbeen like life to him. Well, there's some truth in what they say, thatwhen things come to the worst they begin to mend. "

A few minutes later, after noting that his poor wounded comrade had sunkinto a deep sleep, Pen stole gently out among the trees, keeping a sharplookout for danger as he swept the slopes of the valley in search ofsigns of the enemy, for he felt that it was too much to hope for thedark-green or scarlet of one of their own men. 

But the valley now seemed thoroughly deserted, and a restful feelingbegan to steal through the lad's being, for everything looked peacefuland beautiful, and as if the horrors of war had never visited the land. 

The sun was rising higher, and he was glad to take shelter beneath therugged boughs of a gnarled old cork-tree, where he stood listening tothe low, soft, musical murmur of the fall. And as he pictured theclear, bright, foaming water flashing back the sun's rays, and inimagination saw the shadowy forms of the trout darting here and there, he took a step or two outward, but checked himself directly and turnedback to where he could command the door of the hut, for a feeling ofdoubt crossed his mind as to what might happen if he went away; andbefore long he stole back to the side of the rough pallet, where hefound Punch sleeping heavily, feeling, as he seated himself upon a roughstool, that he could do nothing more but wait and watch. But it waswith a feeling of hope, for there was something to look forward to inthe coming of the peasant-girl. 

"And that can't be for hours yet, " thought the lad; and then his minddrifted off to England, and the various changes of his life, and thecauses of his being there. And then, as he listened to the soft hum ofinsect-life that floated through the open door, his eyelids grew heavyas if he had caught the drowsy infection from his companion. Weak as hewas from light feeding, he too dropped asleep, so that the long, wearytime that he had been wondering how he should be able to pass was but asa minute, for the sun was setting when he next unclosed his eyes, tomeet the mirthful gaze of Punch, who burst into a feeble laugh as heexclaimed, "Why, you have been asleep!"

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

A RUSTLE AMONG THE TREES. 

"Asleep!" cried Pen, starting up and hurrying to the door. 

"Yes; I have been watching ever so long. I woke up hours ago, all in afright, thinking that gal had come back; and I seemed to see her come inat the door and look round, and then go again. "

"Ah, you saw her!" said Pen, looking sharply to right and left as if inexpectation of some trace of her coming. 

"No, " said Punch, "it's no use to look. I have done that lots of times. Hurt my shoulder, too, screwing myself round. She ain't been and leftnothing. "

"But you saw her?" cried Pen. 

"Well, " said Punch, in a hesitating way, "I did and I didn't, like asyou may say. She seemed to come; not as I saw her at first--I only felther, like. It was the same as I seemed to see things when I have beenoff my head a bit. "

"Yes, " said Pen, "I understand. "

"Do you?" said Punch dreamily. "Well, I don't. I didn't see her, onlyit was like a shadow going out of the door; but I feel as sure as surethat she came and stood close to me for ever so long, and I think I sawher back as she went out; and then I quite woke up and lay and listened, hoping that she would come again. "

"I hope it was only a dream, Punch, " said Pen; "but I had no business togo to sleep like that. "

"Why not? You waren't on sentry-go; and there was nothing to do. "

"I ought to have kept awake. "

"No, you oughtn't. I was jolly glad to see you sleep; and I lay hereand thought of what a lot of times you must have kept awake and watchedover me when I was so bad, and--Here, whatcher going to do?"

"Going away till you have done talking nonsense. "

"Oh, all right. I won't say no more. You are such a touchy chap. Don't go away. Give us a drink. "

"Ah, now you are talking sense, " said Pen, as he made for the shelf uponwhich the little wooden vessel stood. "Here, Punch, " he said, "youmustn't drink this. It has turned sour. "

"Jolly glad of it. Chuck it away and fetch me a good drink of water. Only, I say, I'd give it a good rinse out first. "

"Yes, " said Pen dryly, "I think it would be as well. Now, you don'tthink that I should have given you water out of a dirty pail?"

"Well, how should I know?" said the boy querulously. "But, where areyou going to get it from?"

"Out of the pool just below the waterfall. "

"Ah, it will be nice and cool from there, " said the boy, passing histongue over his dry lips. "I was afraid that you might get it fromwhere the sun had been on it all day. "

"Were you?" said Pen, smiling. 

"Here, I say, don't grin at a fellow like that, " said the boy peevishly. "You do keep catching a chap up so. Oh, I am so thirsty! It's as if Ihad been eating charcoal cinders all day; and my wound's all as hot anddry as if it was being burnt. "

"Yes, I had no business to have been asleep, " said Pen. "I'll fetch thewater, and when you have had a good drink I will bathe your wound. "

"Ah, do; there's a good chap. But don't keep on in that aggravatingway, saying you oughtn't to have gone to sleep. I wanted you to go tosleep; and it wasn't a dream about her coming and looking at me while Iwas asleep. I dessay my eyes were shut, but I felt somebody come, andit only aggravates me for you to say nobody did. "

"Then I won't say it any more, Punch, " cried Pen as he hurried out ofthe door. "But you dreamt it, all the same, " he continued to himself ashe hurried along the track in the direction of the fall, keeping a sharplookout the while, partly in search of danger, partly in the faint hopethat he might catch sight of their late compassionate visitor, who mightbe on the way bearing a fresh addition to their scanty store. 

But he encountered no sign of either friend or enemy. One minute he wasmaking his way amongst the gnarled cork-trees, the next he passed out towhere the soft, deep, lulling, musical sound of the fall burst upon hisears; and soon after he was upon his knees drinking deeply of the fresh, cool water, before rinsing out and carefully filling the wooden _seau_, which he was in the act of raising from the pool when he started, forthere was a movement amongst the bushes upon the steep slope on theother side of the falls. 

Pen's heart beat heavily, for, fugitive as he was, the rustling leavessuggested an enemy bent upon taking aim at him or trapping him as aprisoner. 

He turned to make his way back to the hut, and then as the watersplashed from the little wooden pail, he paused. 

"What a coward I am!" he muttered, and, sheltering himself among thetrees, he began to thread his way between them towards where he couldpass among the rocks that filled the bed of the stream below the fallsso as to reach the other side and make sure of the cause of the movementamidst the low growth. 

"I dare say it was only goats, " he said. "Time enough to run when I seea Frenchman; but I wish I had brought my piece. "

Keeping a sharp lookout for danger, he reached the other side of thelittle river, and then climbed up the rocky bank, gained the top insafety, and once more started violently, for he came suddenly upon agoat which was browsing amongst the bushes and sprang out in alarm. 

"Yes, I am a coward!" muttered the lad with a forced laugh; and, stepping back directly, he lowered himself down the bank, recrossed thestream, filled the little pail, and made his way to where his woundedcompanion was waiting for him impatiently. 

"Oh, I say, you have been a time!" grumbled the boy, "and I am sothirsty. "

"Yes, Punch, I have been a while. I had rilled the pail, when there wasa rustle among the trees, and I thought one of the Frenchies was aboutto pounce upon me. "

"And was it?"

"No, only a goat amongst the bushes; and that made me longer. There, let me hold you up--no, no, don't try yourself. That's the way. Did ithurt you much?"

The boy drank with avidity, and then drew a long breath. 

"Oh, 'tis good!" he said. "Nice and cool too. What, did it hurt? Yes, tidy; but I ain't going to howl about that. Good job it wasn't aFrenchy. Don't want them to find us now we are amongst friends. Ifthat gal will only bring us a bit to eat for about another day I shallbe all right then. Sha'n't I, comrade?"

"Better, I hope, Punch, " said Pen, smiling; "but you won't be all rightfor some time yet. "

"Gammon!" cried the boy. "I shall. It only wants plenty of pluck, anda wound soon gets well. I mean to be fit to go on again precious soon, and I will. I say, give us a bit more of that cake, and--I say--what'sthe Spanish for butter?"

Pen shook his head. 

"Well, cheese, then? That will do. I want to ask her to bring us some. It's a good sign, ain't it, when a chap begins to get hungry?"

"Of course it is. All you have got to do is to lie still, and not worryyour wound by trying to move. "

"Yes, it is all very fine, but you ain't got a wound, and don't know howhard it is to lie still. I try and try, and I know how it hurts me if Ido move, but I feel as if I must move all the same. I say, I wish wehad got a book! I could keep quiet if you read to me. "

"I wish I had one, Punch, but I must talk to you instead. "

"Well, tell us a story. "

"I can't, Punch. "

"Yes, you can; you did tell me your story about how you came to take theshilling. "

"Well, yes, I did tell you that. "

"Of course you did, comrade. Well, that's right. Tell us again. "

"Nonsense! You don't want to hear that again. "

"Oh, don't I? But I do. I could listen to that a hundred times over. It sets me thinking about how I should like to punch somebody's head--your somebody, I mean. Tell us all about it again. "

"No, no; don't ask me to do that, Punch, " said Pen, wrinkling up hisforehead. 

"Why? It don't hurt your feelings, does it?"

"Well, yes, it does set me thinking about the past. "

"All right, then; I won't ask you. Here, I know--give us my bugle andthe bit of flannel and stuff out of the haversack. I want to give it apolish up again. "

"Why, you made it quite bright last time, Punch. It doesn't wantcleaning. You can't be always polishing it. "

"Yes, I can. I want to keep on polishing till I have rubbed out thatbruise in the side. It's coming better already. Give us hold on it. "

Pen hesitated, but seeing how likely it was to quiet his patient'srestlessness, he placed the bright instrument beside him, and with itthe piece of cloth with which he scoured it, and the leather for apolisher, and then sat thoughtfully down to watch the satisfied look ofintentness in the boy's countenance as he held the copper horn so closeto his face that he could breathe upon it without moving his head, andthen go on polish, polish, slowly, till by degrees the movement of hishand became more slow, his eyes gradually closed, his head fellsideways, and he sank to sleep. 

"Poor fellow!" said Pen thoughtfully. "But he can't be worse, or hewouldn't sleep like that. "

Pen rose carefully so as not to disturb the sleeper, and cautiouslypeered outside the hut-door, keeping well out of sight till he hadassured himself that there was no enemy visible upon the slopes of thevalley, and then, taking a few steps under the shelter of the trees, hescanned the valley again from another point of view, while he listenedintently, trying to catch the sound of the tramping of feet or the voiceof command such as would indicate the nearness of the enemy. 

But all was still, all looked peaceful and beautiful; and after steppingback to peer through the hut-door again to see that Punch had notstirred, he passed round to the back, where he could gaze in thedirection of the fall and of the track by which the peasant-girl hadhurried away. 

"I wonder whether she will come back again, " thought Pen; and thenfeeling sure that they would have another visit from their new friend, he went slowly back to the hut and seated himself where he could watchthe still-sleeping boy and think; for there was much to dwell upon inthe solitude of that mountain valley--about home, and whether he shouldever get back there and see England again, or be one of the unfortunateswho were shot down and hastily laid beneath a foreign soil; about howlong it would be before Punch was strong enough to tramp slowly by hisside in search of their own corps or of some other regiment where theywould be welcome enough until they could join their own. 

These were not inspiriting thoughts, and he knew it must be weeks beforethe poor fellow's wound would be sufficiently healed. Then other mentalsuggestions came to worry him as to whether he was pursuing the rightcourse; as a companion he felt that he was, but as a soldier he was indoubt about the way in which his conduct would be looked upon by hissuperiors. 

"Can't help it, " he muttered. "I didn't want to skulk. I couldn'tleave the poor fellow alone--perhaps to the wolves. "

The day went by very slowly. It was hot, and the air felt full ofdrowsiness, and the more Pen forced himself to be wakeful the more thesilence seemed to press him down like a weight of sleep to which he wasforced to yield from time to time, only to start awake again with aguilty look at his companion, followed by a feeling of relief on findingthat Punch's eyes were still closed and not gazing at him mockingly. 

Slow as it was, the evening began to approach at last, and with it theintense longing for the change that would be afforded by the sight oftheir visitor. 

But the time glided on, and with it came doubts which were growing intofeelings of surety which were clinched by a sudden movement on the partof the wounded boy, whose long afternoon-sleep was brought to an endwith an impatient ejaculation. 

"There! I knew how it would be, " he said. "She won't come now. "

"Never mind, Punch, " said Pen, trying to speak cheerily. "There's alittle more bread, and I will go now and see if I can find the goat, andtry and get some milk. "

"Not you, " said the boy peevishly. "She will know you are a stranger, and won't let you try again. I know what them she-billy goats are. Ihave watched them over and over again. Leave the bread alone, and let'sgo to sleep. We shall want it for breakfast, and water will do. I meanto have one good long snooze ready for to-morrow, and then I am going toget up and march. "

"Nonsense, Punch, " cried Pen. "You can't. "

"Can't I?" said the boy mockingly. "I must, and, besides, Britishsoldiers don't know such a thing as can't. "

"Ah!" cried Pen excitedly, as he started up and made for the door, forthere was the rustling sound of feet amongst the bushes; and directlyafter, hot and panting with exertion, the peasant-girl appeared at theopening that was growing dim in the failing light. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

"LOOK OUT, COMRADE!"

"Hooray!" cried Punch, wrenching his head round and stretching one handtowards their visitor, who stepped in, put the basket she carried uponthe bed, and placed her hand upon her side, breathing hard as if shewere in pain. 

"Why, you have been running, " cried Punch, looking at her reproachfully. "It was all right on you, and you are a good little lass to come, butyou shouldn't have run so fast. 'Tain't good. "

As the girl began to recover her breath she showed her white teeth andnodded merrily at the wounded boy; and then, as if she had grasped hismeaning, she turned to Pen, caught up the basket, and began rapidly totake out its contents, which consisted first of bunches of grapes, a feworanges, and from beneath them a piece of thin cheese and another cake, which lay at the bottom in company with a rough-looking drinking-mug. 

These were all arranged upon the bed close beside Punch, while the girl, as she emptied her basket, kept on talking to Pen in a hurried way, which he took to mean as an apology for her present being so common andsimple. 

Upon this base Pen made what he considered a suitable reply, thankingthe girl warmly for her compassion and kindness to two unfortunatestrangers. 

"I wish I could make you understand, " he said; "but we are both mostgrateful and we shall never forget it, and--What's the matter?"

For all at once, as the girl was listening eagerly to his words andtrying to understand them, nodding smilingly at him the while, a suddenchange came over her countenance as she gazed fixedly past the youngsoldier at the little square opening in the hut-wall behind him whichserved as a window, and then turned to snatch her basket from the bed. 

"What is it?" cried Pen. 

"Look out, comrade--the window behind, " said Punch. 

Pen turned on the instant, but the dim window gave no enlightenment, andhe looked back now at the girl, who was about to pass through the door, but darted back again to run round the foot of the bed, so as to placeit between her and the swarthy-looking Spanish peasant-lad who suddenlyappeared to block the doorway, a fierce look of savage triumph in hiseyes, as he planted his hands upon his hips and burst out into an angrytirade which made the girl shrink back against the wall. 

Not a word was intelligible to the lookers-on, but all the same thescene told its own tale. Punch's lips parted, his face turned white, and he lay back helpless, with his fingers clenched, while Pen's chestbegan to heave and he stood there irresolute, breathing hard as if hehad been running, knowing well as he did what the young Spaniard's wordsmust mean. 

What followed passed very quickly, for the young Spaniard steppedquickly into the hut, thrust Pen aside, stepped round to the foot of thebed, and caught the shrinking girl savagely by the wrist. 

She shrank from him, but he uttered what sounded more like a snarl thanwords, and began to drag her back round the foot of the bed towards thedoor. 

Pen felt as if something were burning in his chest, and he breathedharder, for there was a twofold struggle taking place therein betweenthe desire to interfere and the feeling of prudence that told him he hadno right to meddle under the circumstances in which he was placed. 

Prudence meant well, and there was something very frank and brave in hersuggestions; but she had the worst of it, for the girl began to resistand retort upon her assailant angrily, her eyes flashing as shestruggled bravely to drag her wrist away; but she was almost helplessagainst the strong muscles of the man, and the next moment she turnedupon Pen an appealing look, as she uttered one word which could onlymean "Help!"

Pen took that to be the meaning, and the hot feeling in his youngEnglish breast burst, metaphorically, into flame. 

Springing at the young Spaniard, he literally wrested the girl from hisgrasp; and as she sprang now to catch at Punch's extended hand, Penclosed with her assailant, there was a brief struggle, and the Spaniardwas driven here and there for a few moments before he caught his heelagainst the rough sill at the bottom of the doorway and went downheavily outside, but only to spring up again with his teeth bared likethose of some wild beast as he sprang at Pen. 

A piercing shriek came from the girl's lips, and she tried to freeherself from Punch's detaining hand; but the boy held fast, checking thegirl in her brave effort to throw herself between the contending pair, while Punch uttered the warning cry, "Look out! Mind, comrade! Knife!Knife!"

The next instant there was a dull thud, and the Spaniard fell heavily inthe doorway, while Pen stood breathing hard, shaking his now open hand, which was rapidly growing discoloured. 

"Has he cut you, comrade?" cried Punch in a husky voice. 

"No. All right!" panted Pen with a half-laugh. "It's only the skinoff--his teeth. I hit first, " But he muttered to himself, "Cowardlybrute! It was very near. --No, no, my girl, " he said now, aloud, as thegirl stripped a little handkerchief from her neck and came up to himtimidly, as if to bind up his bleeding knuckles. "I will go down to thestream. That will soon stop;" and he brushed past her, to again facethe Spaniard, who was approaching him cautiously now, knife in hand, apparently about to spring. 

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Pen sternly, and still facing the Spaniardhe took a couple of steps backward towards the wall of the hut. 

His assailant did not read his intention, and uttered a snarl of triumphas he continued his cautious tactics and went on advancing, swinginghimself from side to side as if about to spring; and a dull gleam oflight flashed from the knife he held in his hand. 

But the hand Pen had thrust out behind him had not been idle; and Punch, who lay helplessly upon the bed, uttered a sigh of satisfaction, forwith one quick movement Pen threw forward his right again to where itcame closely in contact with his left, which joined on in throwingforward horizontally the rifle Pen had caught from where it stood in thecorner of the hut, the muzzle delivering a dull blow in the Spaniard'schest. There was a sharp _click, click_, and Pen thundered out, "Dropthat knife and run, before it's--fire!"

The man could not understand a word of English, but he plainlycomprehended the young soldier's meaning, for his right handrelinquished its grasp, the knife fell with a dull sound upon theearthen floor, and its owner turned and dashed away, while the girlstood with her hands clasped as she uttered a low sigh full of relief, and then sank down in a heap upon the floor, sobbing as if her heartwould break. 

"One for him, comrade, " cried Punch hoarsely. "How would it be to spenda cartridge over his head? Make him run the faster. "

"No need, Punch. This is a bad bit of luck. "

"Bad luck!" said Punch. "I call it fine. Only I couldn't come andhelp. Yes, fine! Teach him what British soldier means. Oh, can't yousay something to tell that poor girl not to cry like that? Say, oldman, " said the boy, dropping into a whisper, "didn't see it before. Why, he must be her chap!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

PUNCH WILL TALK. 

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Punch, " said Pen, frowning. "Thick-headed idiot. I have quite taken the skin off my knuckles. Poorgirl, " he continued, "she has been cruelly punished for doing a womanlyaction. "

"Yes; but he's got it too, and serve him right. Oh, didn't I want tohelp! But, my word, he will never forget what a British fist is. Yourswill soon be all right. Oh, I wish she wouldn't go on crying like that!Do say something to her and tell her we are very sorry she got into ascrape. "

"No, you say something, " said Pen quietly. But there was no need, forthe girl suddenly sprang up, hurriedly dashing away her tears, her eyesflashing as if she were ashamed of being seen crying; and, lookingsharply from one to the other, she frowned, stamped her little foot uponthe earthen floor, and pointed through the open door. 

"_Juan malo_!" she cried, and, springing to where the knife lay, shecaught it up, ran outside, and sent it flying in amongst the trees. Then coming back, she approached Pen. 

"_Juan malo_!" she cried. "_Malo_--_malo_!"

"_Mal_--bad, " said Pen, smiling. "That's Latin as well as Spanish. _Si_, " he continued, to the girl, "_Juan mal_--_malo_. "

The girl nodded quickly and pointed to his hand. "_Navajo_?" she said. 

"What does that mean?" said Pen. "Knife?" And he shook his head. "No, no, no, no, " he said, and to give effect to his words he energeticallystruck the injured hand into its fellow-palm, and then held up theknuckles, which had begun to bleed again. 

The girl smiled and nodded, and she made again to take the handkerchieffrom her neck to bind it up. 

"No, no, no!" cried Pen, laughing and shaking his head. 

The girl looked a little annoyed, and smiled again, and pointed to theprovisions she had brought. 

"_Queso, pano_, " she said. "_Las uvas_;" and she caught up one of thebunches of grapes, picked off a few, and placed them in Punch's hand. Then turning quickly to the door, she stopped to look round. "_Juanmalo_!" she cried; and the next minute she was out of sight. 

"Ah!" said Punch with a sigh, "wish I was a Spaniel and could tell herwhat a good little lass she is, or that I was a scholar like you are;I'd know how you do it. Why, you quite began to talk her lingo at once. Think that chap's waiting to begin bullying her again?"

"I hope not, Punch. "

"So do I. Perhaps he won't for fear that she should tell you, and himhave to run up against your fist again. "

"It's a bad job, Punch, and I want to go down to the stream to bathe myhand. I dare say I should see him if he were hanging about, for thegirl came from that way. "

"But you needn't say it's a bad job, " said Punch. "There's nothing tomind. "

"I hope not, " said Pen thoughtfully. "Perhaps there's nothing to mind. It would have been a deal worse if the French had found out that we werehere. "

"Yes, ever so much, " said Punch. "Here, have some of these grapes; theyare fine. Do you know, that bit of a spurt did me good. I feel betternow as long as I lie quite still. Just as if I had been shamming, andought to get up, and--and--oh, no I don't, " said the poor fellow softly, as he made an effort to change his position, the slight movementbringing forth an ejaculation of pain. "Just like a red-hot bayonet. "

"Poor old chap!" said Pen, gently altering the injured lad's position. "You must be careful, and wait. "

"But I don't want to wait, " cried the boy peevishly. "It has made mefeel as weak as a great gal. I don't believe that one would have madeso much fuss as I do. "

"There, there, don't worry about it. Go on eating the grapes. "

"No, " said the boy piteously. "Don't feel to want them now. The shootthat went through me turned me quite sick. I say, comrade, I sha'n'twant to get up and go on to-morrow. I suppose I must wait another day. "

"Yes, Punch, " said Pen, laying his uninjured hand upon the boy'sforehead, which felt cold and dank with the perspiration produced by thepain. 

"But, I say, do have some of these grapes. "

"Yes, if you will, " said Pen, picking up the little bunch that thewounded boy had let fall upon the bed. "Try. They will take off thefeeling of sickness. Can you eat some of the bread too?"

"No, " said Punch, shaking his head; but he did, and by degrees the paindied out, and he began to chat about the encounter, and how eager hefelt to get out into the open country again. 

"I say, comrade, " he said at last, "I never liked to tell you before, but when it's been dark I have been an awful coward and lain coming outwet with scare, thinking I was going to die and that you would have toscrape a hole for me somewhere and cover me up with stones. I didn'tlike to tell you before, because I knew you would laugh at me and tellme it was all nonsense for being such a coward. D'ye see, that bulletmade a hole in my back and let all the pluck out of me. But your set-towith that chap seemed to tell me that it hadn't all gone, for I feltready for anything again, and that there was nothing the matter with me, only being as weak as a rat. "

"To be sure!" cried Pen, laying his hand upon the boy's shoulder. "Thatis all that's the matter with you. You have got to wait till yourstrength comes back again, and then, Punch, you and I are going to seeif we can't join the regiment again. "

"That's right, " cried the boy, with his dull eyes brightening; "and ifwe don't find them we will go on our travels till we do. Why, it willbe fine, won't it, as soon as I get over being such a cripple. We shallhave 'ventures, sha'n't we?"

"To be sure, " replied Pen; "and you want to get strong, don't you?"

"Oh, don't I just! I should just like to be strong enough to meet thatbrown Spaniel chap and chuck my cap at him. "

"What for?"

"What for? Set his monkey up and make him come at me. I should justlike it. I have licked chaps as big as he is before now--our chaps, andone of the Noughty-fourths who was always bragging about and crowingover me. I don't mind telling you now, I was a bit afraid of him tillone day when he gave me one on the nose and made it bleed. That made meso savage I forgot all about his being big and stronger, and I went inat him hot and strong, and the next thing I knew was Corporal Grady waspatting me on the back, and there was quite a crowd of our chapsstanding laughing, and the corporal says, `Bedad, Punchard, boy, yelicked him foine! Yes, _foine_, ' he said, just like that. `Now, go andwash your face, and be proud of it, ' just like that. And then Iremember--"

"Yes, but remember that another time, " said Pen quietly. "You aretalking too much, " And he laid his hand on the boy's forehead again. 

"Oh, but I just want to tell you this. "

"Tell me to-morrow, Punch. You are growing excited and feverish. "

"How do you know? You ain't a doctor. "

"No; but I know that your forehead was cold and wet a few minutes ago, and that it is hot and burning now. "

"Well, that only means that it's getting dry. "

"No; it means doing yourself harm when you want to get well. "

"Well, I must talk, " pleaded the boy. 

"Yes, a little. "

"What am I to do? I can't be always going to sleep. "

"No; but go as much as you can, and you will get well the quicker. "

"All right, " said Punch sadly. "'Bey orders; so here goes. But I dowish that the chap as gave me this bullet had got it hisself. I say, comrade, " added the boy, after lying silent for a few minutes. 

"What is it? What do you want?"

"Just unhook that there cord and hang my bugle on that other peg. Ah, that's better; I can see it now. Stop a minute--give us hold. "

The boy's eyes brightened as Pen handed him the instrument, and helooked at it with pride, while directly after, obeying the impulse thatseized him, he placed the mouthpiece to his lips, drew a deep breath, and with expanding cheeks was about to give forth a blast when Pensnatched it from his hands. 

"Whatcher doing of?" cried the boy angrily. "Stopping you from bringingthe French down upon us, " cried Pen sharply. "What were you thinkingabout?"

"I wasn't thinking at all, " said the boy slowly, as his brow wrinkled upin a puzzled way. "Well, I was a fool! Got a sort of idea in my headthat some of our fellows might hear it and come down and find us. "

"I wish they would, " said Pen sadly; "but I don't think there's a doubtof it, Punch, we are surrounded by the French. There, I'm sorry I wasso rough with you, only you were going to make a mistake. "

"Sarve me jolly well right, " said the boy. "I must have been quite offmy chump. There, hang it up. I won't do it again. "

It was quite dark now, and in the silence Pen soon after heard a low, deep breathing which told him that his wounded companion had once moresunk asleep, while on his part a busy brain and a smarting hand tendedto reproduce the evening scene, and with it a series of mental questionsas to what would be the result; and so startling were some of thesuggestions that came to trouble the watcher that he placed himself bythe side of the bed farthest from the door and laid his rifle across thefoot ready to hand, as he half-expected to see the dim, oblong square ofthe open doorway darkened by an approaching enemy stealing upon them, knife-armed and silent, ready to take revenge for the blow, urgedthereto by a feeling of jealous hatred against one who had never meanthim the slightest harm. 

That night Pen never closed his eyes, and it was with a sigh of reliefthat he saw the first pale light of day stealing down into the rockyvale. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

JUAN'S REVENGE. 

"Oh, you have come back again, then, " grumbled Punch, as Pen met hisweary eyes and the dismal face that was turned sideways to watch thedoor of the hut. "Thought you had gone for good and forgotten all abouta poor fellow. "

"No, you didn't, Punch, " said Pen, slowly standing his rifle up in acorner close at hand, as he sank utterly exhausted upon the foot of thebed. 

"Yes, I did. I expected that you had come across some place where therewas plenty to eat, and some one was giving you bottles of Spanish wine, and that you had forgotten all about your poor comrade lying here. "

"There, I am too tired to argue with you, Punch, " said Pen with a sigh. "You have drunk all the water, then?"

"Course I have, hours ago, and eat the last of the bread, and I shouldhave eat that bit of hard, dry cheese, only I let it slip out of myfingers and it bounced like a bit of wood under the bed. Well, whatcherbrought for us to eat?"

"Nothing, I am sorry to say. "

"Well, but what are we going to do? We can't starve. "

"I am afraid we can, Punch, if things are going on like this. "

"But they ain't to go on like this. I won't lie here and starve. Nicething for a poor fellow tied up here so bad that he couldn't pick up abit of wittles again as had tumbled down, and you gone off roaming aboutwhere you liked, leaving your poor wounded comrade to die! Oh, I docall it a shame!" cried the lad piteously. 

"Yes, it does seem a shame, Punch, " said Pen gently; "but I can fetchsome water. Are you very thirsty?"

"Thirsty? Course I am! Burnt up! It has been like an oven here allday. "

Pen caught up the wooden _seau_ and hurried out through the wood, toreturn in a few minutes with the vessel brimful of cold, clear water, which he set down ready, and then after carefully raising the poor boyinto a sitting position he lifted the well-filled drinking-cup to hislips and replenished it again twice before the poor fellow would giveup. 

"Ah!" he sighed, "that's better! Which way did you go this time?"

"Out there to the west, where the sun goes down, Punch. "

"Well, didn't you find no farmhouses nor cottages where they'd give youa bit of something to eat?"

"Not one; only rough mountain-land, with a goat here and there. "

"Well, why didn't you catch one, or drive your bayonet into it? If wecouldn't cook it we could have eaten it raw. "

"I tried to, Punch, but the two or three I saw had been hunted by theenemy till they were perfectly wild, and I never got near one. "

"But you didn't see no enemy this time, did you?"

"Yes; they are dotted about everywhere, and I have been crawling aboutall day through the woods so as not to be seen. It's worse there thanin any direction I have been this week. The French are holding thecountry wherever I have been. "

"Oh, I do call this a nice game, " groaned the wounded boy. "Here, giveus another cup of water. It does fill one up, and I have been feelingas hollow as a drum. "

Pen handed him the cup once more, and Punch drank with as much avidityas if it were his first. 

"Yes, " he sighed, "I do call it a nice game! I say, though, comrade, don't you think if you'd waited till it was dark, and then tried, youcould have got through their lines to some place and have begged a bitof bread?"

"Perhaps, Punch, if I had not been taken. "

"Well, then, why didn't you try?"

"Well, we have had that over times enough, " said Pen quietly, "and Ithink you know. "

"Course I do, " said the boy, changing his tone; "only this wound, andbeing so hungry, do make me such a beast. If it had been you going onlike this, lying wounded here, and it was me waiting on you, and feedingyou, and tying you up, I should have been sick of it a week ago, andleft you to take your chance. "

"No, you wouldn't, Punch, old chap; it isn't in you, " said Pen, "so wewon't argue about that. I only want you to feel that I have doneeverything I could. "

"'Cept cutting off and leaving me to take my chance. You haven't donethat. "

"No, I haven't done that, Punch. "

"And I suppose you ain't going to, " said the boy, "and I ought to tellyou you are a fool for your pains. "

"But you are not going to do that, Punch. "

"No, I suppose not; and I wish I wasn't such a beast--such an ungratefulbrute. It is all that sore place; and it don't get no better. But, Isay, why don't you go out straight and find the first lot of Frenchiesyou can, and say to them like a man, `Here, I give myself up as aprisoner'?"

"I told you, Punch, what I believe, " replied Pen. 

"Yes; you said you were afraid that they wouldn't have me carried awayon account of my wound. "

"Well, that's what I do believe, Punch. I don't want to be hard on theFrench, but they are a very rough lot here in this wild mountain-land, and I don't believe they would burden themselves with wounded. "

"Well, it wouldn't matter, " said the boy dismally. 

"Of course they wouldn't carry me about; but they would put me out of mymisery, and a good job too. "

Pen said nothing, but his face wrinkled up with lines which made himlook ten years older, as he laid his hand upon his comrade's feveredbrow. 

"Ha!" sighed Punch, "that does a fellow good. I don't believe any poorchap ever had such a comrade as you are; and I lie here sometimeswondering how you can do so much for such an--"

"Will you be quiet, Punch?" cried Pen, snatching away his hand. 

"Yes, yes--please don't take it away. "

"Then be quiet. You know how I hate you to talk like this. "

"Yes, all right; I have done. But, I say, do you think it's likely thatgal will come again? She must know that what she brought wouldn'tlast. "

"I think, poor lass, she must have got into such trouble with her peoplethat she daren't come again. "

"Her people!" cried the boy. "It's that ugly black-looking nigger of asweetheart of hers. You had a good sight of him that night when youtook aim with your rifle. Why didn't you pull the trigger? A chap likethat's no good in the world. "

"Just the same as you would if you had had hold of the rifle yourself, Punch--eh?"

"There you go again, " said the boy sulkily. "What a chap you are! Youare always pitching it at me like that. Why, of course I should haveshot him like a man. "

"Would you?" said Pen, smiling. 

"Oh, well, I don't know. Perhaps I shouldn't. Such a chap as thatmakes you feel as you couldn't be too hard on him. But it wouldn't bequite the right thing, I suppose. There, don't bother. It makes mysore place ache. But, oh, shouldn't I like to tell him what I think ofhim! I say, don't you think she may come to-night?"

"No, Punch; I have almost ceased to hope. Besides, I don't want todepend on people's charity, though I like to see it I want to be able todo something for ourselves. No, I don't think she will come any more. "

"I do, " said the boy confidently. "I am beginning to think that shewill come after all. She is sure to. She must know how jolly hungry Ishould be. She looked so kind. A gal like that wouldn't leave us tostarve. She is a nice, soft-hearted one, she is, though she is Spanish. I wouldn't take no notice, but I see the tears come in her eyes, andone of them dropped on my hand when she leaned over me and looked sosorry because I was in pain. It's a pity she ain't English and livedsomewhere at home where one might expect to see her again. It is verysad and shocking to have to live in a country like this. "

"Do you feel so hungry now, Punch?"

"Yes, horrid. Give us a bit of that cheese to nibble. Then I must haveanother drink, and try and go to sleep. Feel as though I could now youhave come back. I was afraid I was never going to see you again. "

"I don't believe you thought I had forsaken you, Punch. "

"Not me! You couldn't have done it. 'Tain't in you, comrade, I know. But I tell you what I did think: that the Frenchies had got hold of youand made you prisoner. Then I lay here feeling that I could not movemyself, and trying to work it out as to what you'd do--whether you wouldtry and make them come and fetch me to be a prisoner too, or whether youwould think it wouldn't be safe, and you would be afraid to speak forfear they should come and bayonet me. And so I went on. Oh, I say, comrade, it does make a chap feel queer to lie here without being ableto help hisself. I got to think at last that I wished I was dead andout of my misery. "

"Yes, Punch, lad, I know. It was very hard to bear, but I couldn't helpbeing so long. I was working for you--for both of us--all the time. "

"Course you was, comrade! I know. And now you've come back, and it'sall right again. Give us another drink of water. It's better thannothing--ever so much better, because there's plenty of it--and I shallgo to sleep and do as I did last night when I was so hungry--getdreaming away about there being plenty of good things to eat. I seemedto see a regular feast--roast-meat and fruit and beautiful white bread;only it was as rum as rum. I kept on eating all the time, only nothingseemed to have any taste in it. And, hooray! What did I say! Thereshe is! But, " the boy added, his eager tones of delight seeming to dieaway in despair, "she ain't brought no basket!"

For, eager and panting with her exertions, her eyes bright withexcitement, the peasant-girl suddenly dashed in through the open door, caught Pen by the breast with one hand, and pointed with the other inthe direction from which she had come, as she whispered excitedly, "_LosFranceses_!"

Then, loosening her grasp, she turned quickly to the boy and passed onehand beneath his neck, signing to Pen to help her raise the wounded ladfrom the bed, while Pen hurried to the door to look out. 

"Yes, " he whispered quickly, as he turned back, "she means the enemy arecoming, and wants me to carry you to a place of safety. --All right, mylass; I understand. --Here, Punch, I won't hurt you more than I can help. Clasp your hands round my neck, and I will carry you. --Here, girl, takemy rifle!"

He held out the piece, and the girl caught it in her hand, while Pendrew his companion into a sitting position, stooped down, and turned hisback to the bed. 

"All right; I won't squeak, comrade. Up with me. For'ard!"

But the boy could not control his muscles, the contractions in his faceshowing plainly enough the agony he felt as with one quick movement Penraised himself, pressing the clinging hands to his breast, and swung thepoor fellow upon his back. 

The girl nodded sharply, as, rifle in hand, she made for the door, beckoning to Pen to follow quickly; and then, with a look of despair, she stopped short, her actions showing plainly enough what she must besaying, for there was a quick rush among the trees outside, and theyoung Spaniard dashed to the front of the hut, made a snatch at therifle the girl was bearing, and tore it from her grasp as he drove herback into the hut and barred the way, uttering a loud hail the while. 

"Too late! We are too late, Punch, " said Pen bitterly. "Here they are!Prisoners, my lad. I can do no more. "

For, as he spoke, about a dozen of the enemy doubled up to the front ofthe hut, and the young Spaniard who had betrayed the two lads stoodbefore Pen, showing his white teeth in a malignant grin of triumph, ashe held the girl by the wrist. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

PRISONERS. 

"Are you in much pain, Punch?" said Pen, as, with his wrists tiedtightly behind him, he knelt beside his comrade, who lay now justoutside the door of the hut, a couple of French chasseurs on guard. 

The officer in command of the little party had taken possession of thehut for temporary bivouac, and his men had lighted a fire, whose flamespicturesquely lit up the surrounding trees, beneath which the new-comershad stretched themselves and were now partaking of bread, grapes, andthe water a couple of their party had fetched from the stream. 

The young Spaniard was seated aloof from the girl, whose back washalf-turned from him as she sat there seeming to have lost all interestin the scene and those whom she had tried to warn of the danger theywere in. 

From time to time the Spanish lad spoke to her, but she only jerked herhead away from him, looking more indifferent than ever. 

"Are you in much pain, Punch?" asked Pen again; for the boy had notreplied, and Pen leaned more towards him, to gaze in his facesearchingly. 

"Oh, pretty tidy, " replied the boy at last; "but it's better now. Youseemed to wake up my wound, but it's going to sleep again. I say, though, I didn't show nothing, did I?"

"No, you bore it bravely. "

"Did I? That's right. I was afraid, though, that I should have tohowl; but I am all right now. And I say, comrade, look here; some chapsmiche--you know, sham bad--so as to get into hospital to be fed up andget off duty, and they do it too, you know. "

"Yes, I know, " said Pen, watching the lad anxiously. "But don't talk somuch. "

"Must; I want to tell you, I am going to miche--sham, you know--theother way on. "

"What do you mean?" said Pen. 

"Why, make-believe I'm all right. Make these froggies think my wound'sonly a scratch. Then perhaps they will march me off along with you as aprisoner. I don't want them to--you know. "

"March you off!" said Pen bitterly. "Why, you know you can't stand. "

"Can't! I've got to. You'll let me hold tight of your arm. I've gotto, comrade, and I will. It means setting one's teeth pretty hard. Only wish I had got a bullet to bite. It would come easy then. Lookhere, wait a bit, and then you back up a bit closer to me. Haven't tiedmy hands like yours. Just you edge close so as I can slip my fingersinto your box. I want to get out one cartridge for the sake of thebullet. "

"You can't, Punch. Didn't you see they slipped off the belt, and thatyoung Spaniard's got it along with my rifle?"

"So he has! I didn't know. Now then, wasn't I right when I said youought to have fired at him and brought him down? Well, I must have abullet somehow. I know. I will try and get the girl to get hold of thecase; only I don't know how it's to be done without knowing what to say. Can't you put me up to it, comrade?"

"No, Punch. "

"But you might give a fellow a bit of advice. "

"My advice is to lie still and wait. "

"Well, that's pretty advice, that is, comrade. Wait till they comes andmakes an end of a fellow if he breaks down, for I am beginning to thinkthat I sha'n't be able to go through with it. "

"Let's wait and see what happens, Punch. We have done our best, and wecan do no more. "

Just then Pen's attention was taken up by the young officer, who came tothe door of the hut, yawned, and stood looking about at his men beforeslowly sauntering round the bivouac as if to see that all was right, thesentries drawing themselves up stiffly as he passed on, till he caughtsight of the Spanish girl and the lad seated together in the full lightcast by the fire. 

Then turning sharply to one of his men, the young officer pointed at theSpaniard and gave an order in a low, imperious tone. 

Two of his men advanced to the lit-up group, and one of them gave thelad a sharp clap on the shoulder which made him spring up angrily, whilethe other chasseur snatched the English rifle from his hand, the firstchasseur seizing the cartridge-belt and case. 

There was a brief struggle, but it was two to one, and the Spaniard, asPen watched the encounter eagerly, was sent staggering back, catchinghis heel in a bush and falling heavily, but only to rebound on theinstant, springing up knife now in hand and making at the nearestsoldier. 

"Ha!" gasped Punch excitedly, as he saw the gleam of the knife; and thenhe drew in his breath with a hiss, for it was almost momentary: one ofthe two French soldiers who had approached him to obey his officer'sorders and disarm the informer just raised his musket and made a drivewith the butt at the knife-armed Spaniard, who received the metal plateof the stock full in his temple and rolled over, half-stunned, amongstthe bushes. 

Another order rang out from the officer, and before the young Spaniardcould recover himself a couple more of the soldiers had pounced uponhim, and a minute later he was firmly bound, as helpless a prisoner asthe young rifleman who watched the scene. 

"Say, comrade, " whispered Punch, "that's done me good. But do you seethat?"

"See it? Why, of course I saw it. That's not what he bargained forwhen he led the Frenchmen here. "

"No, I don't mean that, " whispered Punch impatiently. "I meant thegal. "

"The girl?" said Pen. "What about her?"

"Where is she?" whispered Punch. 

"Why, she was--"

"Yes, _was_, " whispered Punch again; "but where is she now? She wentoff like a shot into the woods. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Pen, with a look of relief in his eyes. 

"Yes, she's gone; and now I want to know what's going to be next. Herecomes the officer. What'll be his first order? To shoot us, and thatyoung Spaniel too?"

"No, " said Pen. "But don't talk; he's close here. "

The officer approached his prisoners now, closely followed by one of hismen, whose _galons_ showed that he was a sergeant. 

"Badly wounded, eh?" said the officer in French. 

"Yes, sir; too bad to stand. "

"The worse for him, " said the officer. "Well, we can't take wounded menwith us; we have enough of our own. "

"Yes, sir, " said the sergeant; and Pen felt the blood seem to run coldthrough his veins. 

And then curiously enough there was a feeling of relief in the knowledgethat his wounded comrade could not understand the words he had graspedat once. 

"We shall go back to camp in half an hour, " continued the officer; andthen running his eye over Pen as he sat up by Punch's side, "This fellowall right?"

"Yes, sir. "

"See to his fastenings. I leave him to you. "

"But surely, sir, " cried Pen, in very good French, "you are not going tohave my poor companion shot in cold blood because he has the misfortuneto be wounded?"

"Eh, do you understand French?"

"Yes, sir; every word you have said. "

"But you are not an officer?"

"I have my feelings, sir, and I appeal to you as an officer and agentleman to save that poor fellow. It would be murder, and not the actof a soldier. "

"Humph!" grunted the officer. "You boys should have stayed at home. --Here, sergeant, carry the lad into camp. Find room for him in theambulance. --There, sir, are you satisfied now?" he continued to Pen. 

"Yes, sir, " replied Pen quickly; "satisfied that I am in the presence ofa brave French officer. God bless you for this!"

The officer nodded and turned away, the sergeant stopping by theprisoners. 

"Here, I say, " whispered Punch, "what was all that talking about?"

"Only arranging about how you were to be carried into camp, Punch, "replied Pen. 

"Gammon! Don't you try and gull me. I know, " panted the boy excitedly. "I could not understand the lingo; but you were begging him not to haveme shot, and he gave orders to this 'ere sergeant to carry out what hesaid. You are trying to hide it from me so as I shouldn't know. Butyou needn't. I should like to have gone out like our other chaps have--shot fair in the field; but if it's to be shot as a prisoner, well, Imean to take it like a man. "

The boy's voice faltered for a few moments as he uttered the last words, and then he added almost in a whisper, "I mean, if I can, for I'm awfulweak just now. But you'll stand by me, comrade, and I think I will gothrough it as I ought. And you will tell the lads when you get backthat I didn't show the white feather, but went out just like a fellowought?"

"That won't be now, Punch, " said Pen, leaning over him. "I am notdeceiving you. I appealed to the officer, and he gave orders at oncethat you were to be carried by the men to their camp and placed in oneof the ambulance wagons. "

"Honour?" cried Punch excitedly. "Honour bright, " replied Pen. "Butthat means taking me away from you, " cried the boy, with his voicebreaking. 

"Yes; but to go into hospital and be well treated. "

"Oh, but I don't want to go like that, " cried the boy wildly. "Can'tyou ask the officer--can't you tell him that--oh, here--you--we twomustn't--mustn't be--" For the sergeant now joined them with a couple ofmen carrying a rough litter; and as Punch, almost speechless now, caughtat his wrist and clung to him tightly, he looked down in the prisoner'swildly appealing eyes. 

"Why, what's the matter with the boy?" growled the sergeant roughly. "Does he think he's going to be shot?"

"He's badly hurt, sir, " said Pen quietly, "and can't bear beingseparated from me. "

"Oh, that's it, is it, sir?" said the sergeant. "My faith, but youspeak good French! Tell him that I'll see that he's all right. What'shis hurt--bayonet?"

"No, " said Pen, smiling. "A French bullet--one of your men aimed toowell. "

"Ha, ha! Yes, we know how to shoot. Poor fellow! Why, I have justsuch a boy as he. --Lift him up gently, lads. --Humph! He has fainted. "

For poor Punch had held out bravely to the last; but nature was toostrong even for his British pluck. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

IN MISERY. 

"I say, Pen, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. What do you want?"

"Want you to turn me round so as I can look out of the door. What madeyou put me like this?"

"It wasn't my doing. You were put so that you might be morecomfortable. "

"But I am not more comfortable, and it's so jolly dark. I like to beable to look out of the door if I wake in the night. "

"Hush! Don't talk so loudly. "

"Why not? There's nobody to hear. But just turn me over first. "

"Hush! There are three or four other people to hear, " whispered Pen. "You are half-asleep yet. Don't you understand, Punch?"

"Understand--understand what?" said the poor fellow, subduing his voicein obedience to his companion's words. 

"I must tell you, I suppose. "

"Tell me? Why, of course! Oh, I begin to understand now. Have I beenoff my head a bit?"

"Yes; you were very much upset when the French officer was with us, andfainted away. "

"Phee-ew!" whistled the boy softly. "Oh, it's all coming back now. TheFrench came, and knocked over that Spanish chap, and I thought that theywere going to take me away and shoot me. Why, they didn't, then!That's all right. Yes, I remember now. My head was all in a muddledum. I got thinking I was never going to see you any more. When was it--just now?"

"No, Punch, it was two nights ago, and the doctor thought--"

"The doctor? Why, you have been my doctor. I say--"

"Don't get excited. Lie quite still, and I will tell you. "

"Ah, do. I am all in a muddle still; only you might turn me round, sothat I can look straight out of the door, and I could breathe the freshair then. I am being quite stuffercated like this. "

"Yes, the hut is dreadfully hot, " said Pen with a sigh. "There are sixother poor wounded fellows lying here. "

"Six other wounded fellows lying here! Whatcher talking about?"

"Only this, Punch, " said Pen, with his lips close to the boy's ear. "You were carried to the little camp where those French came from thatmade us prisoners, and there you were put in an ambulance wagon with sixmore poor fellows, and the mules dragged us right away to a villagewhere a detachment of the French army was in occupation. Do youunderstand?"

"I think so. But you said something about doctors. "

"Yes. There are several surgeons in this village, and wounded men inevery hut. There has been fighting going on, and a good many morewounded men were brought in yesterday. "

"Halt!" said Punch in a quick, short whisper. "Steady! Did we win?"

"I don't know, but I think not. I've seen nothing but wounded men andthe doctors and the French orderlies. The French officer was very nice, and let me stay with you in the ambulance; and when we came to a haltand I helped to carry you and the other wounded into this hut, one ofthe doctors ordered me to stop and help, so that I have been able toattend to you as well as the others. "

"Good chap! That was lucky. Then this ain't our hut at all?"

"No. "

"What's become of that gal, then?"

"She escaped somewhere in the darkness, " replied Pen. 

"And what about that Spanish beggar? Ah, I recollect that now. Hebrought the French to take us prisoners. "

"I haven't seen any more of him, Punch, since they led him away. "

"Serve him right! And so I've been lying here in this hut ever since?"

"Yes, quite insensible, and I don't think you even knew when the Frenchsurgeon dressed your wound and took out a ragged bit of the cartridge. "

"Took out what?"

"A piece of the wad that was driven in, and kept the wound fromhealing. "

"Well, you have been carrying on nice games without me knowing of it!"said the boy. "And it hasn't done me a bit of good. "

"The doctor says it has. He told me yesterday evening that you wouldsoon get right now. "

"And shall I?"

"Yes, I hope so. "

"So do I. But it does seem rum that all this should be done without myknowing of it. "

"Well, you have been quite insensible. "

"I suppose so. But where are we now, then?"

"I don't know, Punch, except that this is a little Spanish village whichthe French have been occupying as a sort of hospital. "

"But where's all the fighting?"

"I don't know, Punch, much more than you do. There was some firing lastnight. I heard a good deal of tramping close at hand, as if some moremen were marching in, and then more and more came through the night, andI heard firing again about a couple of hours ago; but it seemed to bemiles away. "

"And you don't know who's beat?"

"I know nothing, I tell you, only that everything has been very quietfor the last hour or so. "

"Perhaps because you have been asleep, " said Punch. 

"No; I have been quite awake, fetching water from a mountain-stream herefor the poor fellows who keep asking for more and more. "

"Do they know we are English?"

"I don't think so. Poor fellows! their wounds keep them from thinkingabout such a thing as that; and, besides, I am just able to understandwhat they say, and to say a few words when they ask for drink or to bemoved a little. "

"Oh, " said Punch, "that comes of being able to talk French. Wish Icould. Here, I say, you said the doctor had been doing up my woundagain. Think I could walk now?"

"I am sure you couldn't. "

"I ain't, " said the boy. "Perhaps I could if I tried. "

"But why do you ask?" said Pen. "Because it's so jolly nice and dark;and, besides, it's all so quiet. Couldn't we slip off and find the wayto our troops?"

"That's what I've been thinking, Punch, ever since you have been lyinghere. "

"Of course you would, " said the boy in an eager whisper. "And why not?I think I could manage it, and I'm game. "

"You must wait, Punch, and with me think ourselves lucky that we arestill together. Wait and get strong enough, and then we will try. "

"Oh, all right. I shall do what you tell me. But I say, what's becomeof your rifle and belt?"

"I don't know. I saw them once. They were with some muskets andbayonets laid in the mule-wagon under the straw on one side. But Ihaven't seen them since. "

"That's a pity, " sighed the boy faintly; and soon after Pen found, whenhe whispered to him, that he was breathing softly and regularly, whilehis head felt fairly cool in spite of the stifling air of the crowdedhut. 

Punch did not stir till long after sunrise, and when he did it was tosee that, utterly exhausted, his companion had sunk into a deep sleep, for the rest of that terrible night had been spent in trying to assuagethe agony of first one and then another of the most badly wounded whowere lying around. Every now and then there had been a piteous appealfor water to slake the burning thirst, and twice over the lad had topass through the terrible experience of holding the hand of some poorfellow who in the darkness had whispered his last few words as he passedaway. 

Later on a couple more wounded men had been borne in by the light of alantern, by whose aid a place was found for them in the already toocrowded hut, and it became Pen's duty to hold the dim open lantern andcast the light so that a busy surgeon, who was already exhausted by hislong and terrible duties, could do his best to bandage and stop somewound. 

It was just at daylight, in the midst of the terrible silence which hadnow fallen around, that Pen's head had sunk slowly down till it restedupon Punch's shoulder; and when the sun rose at last its horizontal rayslit up the dismal scene, with the elder lad's pallid and besmirchedface, consequent upon the help he had been called upon to render, givinghim the appearance of being one of the wounded men. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

WAR'S HORRORS. 

But the morning brought not only the horizontal rays of the great sunwhich lit up the hut with its sad tale of death and suffering, butlikewise a renewal of the fight of the previous day, and this time thetide of battle swept much nearer to the encampment of the wounded. 

Punch started out of a state of dreamy calm, and wondered why the noisehe heard had not roused up his sleeping comrade, for from apparentlyquite near at hand came the boom of artillery, a sound which for themoment drowned all others, even the hoarse, harshly uttered words ofcommand, as large bodies of men swung past the doorway of the hut, andthe fitful bugle-calls which a minute before had fallen on his ear. 

"Ah, " he muttered, "it's a big fight going on out there. I wonder ifthose are our guns;" and once more the air was rent by the dull, angryroar of artillery. "Pen! Pen! Oh, I can't let him sleep! Why doesn'the wake up? Here, I say, comrade!"

"Eh, what is it?" And Pen opened his eyes, to gaze wonderingly atPunch's excited face. 

"Don't you hear?"

"Hear? Yes, yes, " And the dreamy look vanished from the other's eyes. 

The two lads waited, listening, and then Punch put his lips close toPen's ear. 

"I am sure we are winning, " he said. "Hear that?"

"How can I help hearing it?"

"Well, it's English guns, I know. "

"Think so?"

"Yes, and they will be here soon. "

Pen shook his head. 

"Afraid not, " he said; "and--Ah, all right. --Punch, lad, I'm wanted. "For just then a man came hurriedly into the hut and made him a sign. 

"What does he want?" grumbled Punch. 

"It's the surgeon, " said Pen, and he hurried away. 

For some hours--long, hot, weary hours--Punch saw little of hisfellow-prisoner, the morning wearing on and the atmosphere of the hovelbecoming unbearably close, while all the time outside in the brilliantsunshine, evidently just on the other side of a stretch of purple hillyland, a battle was in progress, the rattle of musketry breaking into theheavy volume of sound made by the field-guns, while every now and againon the sun-baked, dusty stretch which lay beyond the doorway, where theshadows were dark, a mounted man galloped past. 

"Wish my comrade would come back, " he muttered; and it was long ere hiswish was fulfilled. But the time came at last, and Pen was standingthere before him, holding in his hands a tin drinking-cup and a piece ofbread. 

"Take hold, " he said hoarsely, looking away. 

"Where you been?" said Punch. 

"Working in the ambulance. I--I--" And Pen staggered, and sat downsuddenly on the ground. 

"What's the matter? Not hit?"

"No, no. "

"Had anything yourself?"

"Bother!" said Pen. "Make haste. Toss off that water. I want thecup. "

"Had anything yourself?" repeated Punch firmly. 

"Well, no. "

"Then I sha'n't touch a drop until you have half and take some of thatbread. "

"But--"

"It's no good, Pen. I sha'n't and I won't--so there!"

Pen hesitated. 

"Very well, " he said; "half. " And he drank some of the water. "It'svery good--makes one feel better, " and he ate a morsel or two of bread. "I had a job to get it. "

"What did that fellow want?" asked Punch as he attacked his share. 

"Me to help with the wounded, " said Pen huskily. "So you thought melong?"

"Course I did. But the wounded--are there many?"

"Heaps, " said Pen. "But don't talk so loudly. "

"Poor chaps, " said Punch, "they can't hear what we say. How are thingsgoing? There, they are at it again. "

"I think the French are giving ground, " said Pen in a whisper. 

"Hooray!"

"Hush!"

"What, mayn't I say hooray?"

"No, you mayn't. I have picked up a little since I went away. I fancyour men have been coming on to try and take this village, but I couldn'tmake out much for the smoke; and, besides, I have been with that surgeonnearly all the time. "

"Yes, " said Punch. "Well, will they do it?"

Pen shook his head. 

"Don't think so, " he said. "They have tried it twice. I heard what wasbeing done. Our people were driven back, and--"

He said no more, but turned to the door; and Punch strained his eyes inthe same direction, as from away to the right, beyond a group ofcottages, came a bugle-call, shrill, piercing, then again and again, while Punch started upright with a cry, catching Pen's arm. 

"I say, hear that? That's our charge. Don't you hear? They are comingon again!"

The effort Punch had made caused a pain so intense that he fell backwith a groan. 

"You can leave me, Pen, old chap, " he said. 

"Don't mind me; don't look. But--but it's the English charge. Go tothem. They are coming--they are, I tell you. Don't look like that, and--and--There, listen!"

The two lads were not the only ones in that hut to listen then and tonote that the conflict was drawing nearer and nearer. 

Punch, indeed, was right, and a short time after Pen crouched downcloser to his companion, for now, quite close at hand, came volley aftervolley, the _zip, zip_ of the ricochetting bullets seeming to clear theway for the charge. 

Then more volleys. 

The dust was ploughed up, and Punch started as a bullet came with a soft_plug_ in the hut-wall, and Pen's heart felt ready to stop beating asthere was a hoarse command outside, and half-a-dozen French infantrydashed into the building, to fill the doorway, two lying down and theircomrades kneeling and standing. 

"Don't speak, " whispered Pen, for the boy had wrenched himself round andwas gazing intently at the backs of the soldiers. "Don't speak. "

Silence, before a grim happening. Then a roar from outside, exultantand fierce, and in the wide-open space beyond the hut-door the two ladssaw a large body of the enemy in retreat before the serried ranks ofBritish infantry who came on at the double, their bayonets flashing inthe sun's rays, and cheering as they swept onward. 

The muskets in the doorway flashed, and the hut was filled with smoke. 

"Pen, I must whisper it--Hooroar!"

There was a long interval then, with distant shouting and scatteredfiring, and it was long ere the cloud of smoke was dissipatedsufficiently for the two lads to make out that now the doorway wasuntenanted except by a French chasseur who lay athwart the threshold onhis back, his hand still clutching at the sling of his piece. 

"Think we have won?" whispered Punch, looking away. 

"Don't know, " muttered Pen; but the knowledge that was wanted came soonenough, for an hour later it became evident that the gallant attempt ofthe British commander to take the village had been foiled. 

The British cheer they had heard still echoed in their ears, but it wasnot repeated, and it was speedily apparent that the fight had swept awayto their left; and from scraps of information dropped by the members ofthe bearer-party who brought more wounded into the already crowded hut, and took away the silent figure lying prone in the entrance, Pen madeout that the French had made a stand and had finally succeeded indriving back their foes. 

In obedience to an order from the grim-featured surgeon, he left Punch'sside again soon after, and it was dark ere he returned, to find the boyfast asleep. He sank down and listened, feeling now but little fatigue, starting up, however, once more, every sense on the alert, as there camea series of sharp commands at the hut-door, and he realised that he musthave dropped off, for it was late in the evening, and outside the softmoonlight was making the scene look weird and strange. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

ANOTHER BREAKDOWN. 

Punch heard the voices too, and he reached out and felt for hiscomrade's hand. 

"What is it?" he whispered. "Have they won? Not going to shoot me, arethey?"

"No, no, " said Pen, "but"--and he dropped his voice--"I think we are allgoing on. "

He was quite right, and all through that night the slow business ofsetting a division on the march was under way, and the long, long trainof baggage wagons drawn by the little wiry mules of the country began tomove. 

The ambulance train followed, with its terrible burden heavily increasedwith the results of the late engagement, while as before--thanks to theservice he had been able to render--Pen was able to accompany theheavily laden wagon in which Punch lay. 

"So we were beaten, " said the boy sadly--as the wheels of the lumberingvehicle creaked loudly, for the route was rough and stony--and Pennodded. 

"Beaten. Yes, " And his voice was graver than before at the thought ofwhat he had seen since they had been prisoners. 

On, on, on, through the dark hours, with Punch falling off every now andagain into a fitful sleep--a sleep broken by sudden intervals ofhalf-consciousness, when Pen's heart was wrung by the broken wordsuttered by his companion: "Not going to shoot me, are they? Don't letthem do that, comrade. " While, as the weary procession continued itsway on to the next village, where they were about to halt, Pen hadanother distraction, for as he trudged painfully on by the side of thecreaking wagon a hand was suddenly placed on his arm. 

He turned sharply. 

"Eh, what?" he cried. 

"Well?" said a half-familiar voice, and in the dim light he recognisedthe features of the young French captain who had listened to his appealto save the bugler's life. 

"Rough work, sir, " said Pen. 

"Yes. Your fellows played a bold game in trying to dislodge us. Nearlysucceeded, _ma foi_! But we drove them back. "

"Yes, " said Pen. 

"How's your friend?" asked the captain. 

"Better. "

"That's well. And now tell me, where did you learn to speak French sowell?"

"From my tutor, " answered Pen. 

"Your tutor! And you a simple soldier! Well, well! You English arefull of surprises. "

Pen laughed. 

"I suppose so, " he said; "but we are not alone in that. "

The French captain chatted a little longer, and then once more Pen wasalone--alone but for the strange accompaniment of sounds incident to thenight march: the neighing of horses, the scraps of quick talking whichfell on his ear, along with that never-ceasing creak, rumble, and joltof the wagons, a creaking and jolting which seemed to the tired brain asthough they would go on for ever and ever. 

He was aroused out of a strange waking dream, in which the past and thepresent were weirdly blended, by a voice which called him by name, andhe tried to shake himself free from the tangle of confused thought whichhemmed him in. 

"Aren't you there?" came the voice again. 

"Yes, Punch, yes. What is it?"

"Ah, that's all right! I wanted to tell you that I feel such a lotbetter. "

"Glad to hear it, Punch. "

"Yes, I feel as if I could get out of this now. "

"You had better not try, " said Pen with a forced laugh. "I think--Ithink--" And then the confusion came again. 

"What do you think?" said Punch. 

"Think?" cried the other. "I--what do you mean?"

In the darkness of the heavy vehicle, Punch's face betrayed a feeling ofalarm, and he tried to figure it out. Something in Pen's voicefrightened him. 

"He is not the same, " he muttered; and his impression was substantiatedwhen a halt was called just about the time of dawn, for Pen dropped likea log by the wagon-side; and when Punch, with great pain to himself, struggled into a sitting position, and then clambered down to hiscomrade, he found to his horror that his worst fears were realised. 

Pen's forehead was burning, and the poor lad was muttering incoherently, and not in a condition to pay heed to the words of his companion. 

"Gray, Gray! Can't you hear? What's wrong?"

The village which was the new headquarters was higher up in themountains; and whether it was the fresher air operating beneficially, orwhether the period of natural recovery had arrived, certain it was thatPunch found himself able to move about again; and during the days andweeks that followed he it was who took the post of nurse and attended tothe wants of Pen--wants, alas! too few, for the sufferer was a victim tosomething worse than a mere shot-wound susceptible to efficientdressing, for the most dangerous, perhaps, of all fevers had laid himlow. 

The period passed as in a long dream, and the thought of rejoining theBritish column had for a time ceased to animate Punch's brain. 

But youth and a strong constitution rose superior in Pen's case to allthe evils of circumstance and environment, and one afternoon the oldclear look came back to his eyes. 

"Ah, Punch, " he said, "better?"

"Better?" said the boy. "I--I am well; but you--how are you now?"

"I--have I been ill?"

"Ill!" cried Punch, and he turned and looked at an orderly who washurrying past. "He asks if he has been ill!--Why, Pen, you have had afever which has lasted for weeks. "

Pen tried to sit up, and he would have dismally failed in the attempthad not Punch encircled him with his arm. 

"Why--why, " he said faintly, "I am as weak as weak!"

"Yes, that you are. "

"But, Punch, what has been happening?"

"I don't know. I can't understand what all these people say; but theylet me fetch water for them and attend to you; and to-day there has beena lot going on--troops marching past. "

"Yes, " said Pen; "that means there has been another fight. "

"No, I don't think so. "

"Why not?"

"Because I have heard no firing. But hadn't you better go to sleepagain?"

Pen smiled, but he took the advice and lay back. 

"Perhaps I had, " he said faintly; and as Punch watched him he fell intoa restful doze. 

So it was during the days that followed, each one bringing back morestrength to the invalid, and likewise each day a further contingent ofthe wounded in the battle of a month before being passed as fit forservice again and drafted to the front; while each day, too, Pen foundthat the strength that used to be his was returning little by little, and he listened eagerly one night when Punch bent over him and whisperedsomething in his ear. 

"You know I have been talking about it to you, " said the boy, "forseveral nights past; and when I wasn't talking about it I was thinkingof it. But now--now I think the time has come. "

"To escape?" cried Pen eagerly. "You mean it?"

"Yes; I have been watching what has gone on. We are almost alone here, with only wounded and surgeons. The rest have gone; and--and behindthis village there is a forest of those scrubby-barked oak-trees. "

"Cork-trees, " said Pen. 

"Oh, that's it!" And the boy drew himself up. "But do you think youare strong enough yet?"

"Strong enough? Of course. " And Pen rose, to stand at his companion'sside. "Do you know the way?"

"Yes, " And Punch felt for and took his companion's hand, trying to seehis face in the pitchy darkness. "It is to the right of the camp. "

"Then let's go. "

"Wait, " said Punch, and he glided off into the blackness, leaving Penstanding there alone. 

But it was not for long. In a minute or two the boy was back once more, and this time he held something in his arms. 

"Ready?" he asked in a whisper. 

"Yes. What for?"

"Stoop. --That's it. I watched, and took them--not English ones, butthey will shoot, I expect, " And softly he slipped the sling of a musketover Pen's shoulders, following that by handing him a cartouche-box andbelt. "I have got a gun for myself too. Better than a bugle. There!"And in the darkness there was the sound of a belt being tightly drawnthrough a buckle. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, " said Pen. 

"Where's your hand?"

"Here. "

"Right!" And the younger lad gripped his friend's extended palm. "Now, it's this way. I planned it all when you were so ill, and said tomyself that it would be the way when you got better. Come along. "

Softly and silently the two slipped off in the darkness, making for thebelt of forest where the gloomy leafage made only a slight blur againstthe black velvet sky. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

HUNTED. 

"What's the matter, Punch? Wound beginning to hurt you again?"

"No, " said the boy surlily. 

"What is it, then? What are you thinking about?"

"Thinking about you being so grumpy. "

"Grumpy! Well, isn't it enough to make a fellow feel low-spirited whenhe has been ill for weeks, wandering about here on these mountain-sides, hunted as if we were wild beasts, almost starving, and afraid to go nearany of the people?"

"No, " replied Punch with quite a snarl. "If you had had a bullet inyour back like I did there's something to grumble about. I don'tbelieve you ever knew how it hurt. "

"Oh yes, I did, Punch, " said Pen quietly, "for many a time I have feltfor you when I have seen you wincing and your face twitching with pain. "

"Of course you did. I know. You couldn't have been nicer than youwere. But what have you got to grumble about now you're better?"

"Our bad luck in not getting back to some of our people. "

"Well, I should like that too, only I don't much mind. You see, I can'thelp feeling as jolly as a sand-boy. "

"I don't know that sand-boys have anything much to be jolly about, Punch, " said Pen, brightening up. 

"More do I--but it's what people say, " said Punch; "only, I do feeljolly. To be out here in the sunshine--and the moonshine, too, of anight--and having a sort of feeling that I can sit down now without myback aching and smarting, and feeling that I want to run and jump andshout. You know what it is to feel better, now, as well as I do. Thisain't home, of course; but everything looks wonderful nice, and everymorning I wake up it all seems to me as if I was having a regular longholiday. I say, do say you are enjoying yourself too. "

"I can't, Punch. There are too many drawbacks. "

"Oh, never mind them. "

"But I can't help it. You know I have been dreadfully weak. "

"But you shouldn't worry about that. I don't mind a bit now you aregetting well. "

"What, not when we are faint with hunger?"

"No, not a bit. It makes me laugh. It seems such a jolly game to thinkwe have got to hunt for our victuals. Oh, I think we are having aregular fine time. It's a splendid place! Come on. "

"No, no; we had better rest a little more. "

"Not me! Let's get some chestnuts. Ain't it a shame to grumble whenyou get plenty of them as you can eat raw or make a fire and roast them?Starve, indeed! Then look at the grapes we have had; and you neverknow what we shall find next. Why, it was only yesterday that womangave us some bread, and pointed to the onions, and told us to take more;leastways she jabbered and kept on pointing again. Of course, wehaven't done as well as we did in the hut, when the girl brought usbread and cheese and milk; but I couldn't enjoy it then with all thatstinging in my back. And everything's good now except when you look sogrumpy. "

"Well, Punch, most of my grumpiness has been on your account, and I willcheer up now. If I could only meet some one to talk to and understandus, so that we could find out where our people are, I wouldn't care. "

"Well, never mind all that, and don't care. I don't. Here we arehaving a big holiday in the country. We have got away from the French, and we are not prisoners. I am all alive and kicking again, and I feelmore than ever that I don't care for anything now you are getting moreand more well. There's only one thing as would make me as grumpy as youare. "

"What's that, Punch?"

"To feel that my wound was getting bad again. I say, you don't think itwill, do you?"

"No; why should I? It's all healing up beautifully. "

"Then I don't care for anything, " cried the boy joyously. "Yes, I do. I feel horrid wild sometimes to think they took away my bugle;leastways, I suppose they did. I never saw it no more; and it don'tseem natural not to have that to polish up. I have got a musket, though; and, I say, why don't we have a day's shooting, and knock over akid or a pig?"

"Because it would be somebody's kid or pig, and we should be hunted downworse than ever, for, instead of the French being after us for escapedprisoners, we should rouse the people against us for killing theirproperty. "

"Yes, that would be bad, " said Punch; "but it would only be because weare hungry. "

"Yes, but the people wouldn't study that. "

"Think they would knife us for it?" said the boy thoughtfully. 

"I hope not; but they would treat us as enemies, and it would go badwith us, I feel sure. "

"Well, we are rested now, " said Punch. "Let's get on again a bit. "

"Which way shall we go?" said Pen. 

"I dunno; anywhere so's not to run against the French. I have hadenough of them. Let's chance it. "

Pen laughed merrily, his comrade's easy-going, reckless way having itshumorous side, and cheering him up at a time when their helplesscondition made him ready to despair. 

"Well, " he said, "if we are to chance it, Punch, let's get out of thiswood and try to go downhill. "

"What for?"

"Easier travelling, " said Pen. "We may reach another pleasant valley, and find a village where the people will let us beg some bread andfruit. "

"Yes, of course, " said Punch, frowning; "but it don't seem nice--begging. "

"Well, we have no money to buy. What are we to do?"

"Grab, " said Punch laconically. 

"What--steal?" cried Pen. 

"Steal! Gammon! Aren't we soldiers? Soldiers forage. 'Tain'tstealing. We must live in an enemy's country. "

"But the Spaniards are not our enemies. "

"There, now you are harguing, and I hate to hargue when you are hungry. What I say is, we are soldiers and in a strange country, and that wemust take what we want. It's only foraging; so come on. "

"Come along then, Punch, " said Pen good-humouredly. "But you arespoiling my morals, and--"

"Pst!" whispered Punch. "Lie down. "

He set the example, throwing himself prone amongst the rough growth thatsprang up along the mountain-slope; and Pen followed his example. 

"What can you see?" he whispered, as he crept closer to his comrade'sside, noting the while that as he lay upon his chest the boy had madeready his musket and prepared to take aim. "You had better not shoot. "

"Then tell them that too, " whispered Punch. 

"Them! Who?"

"Didn't you see?"

"I saw nothing. "

"I did--bayonets, just below yonder. Soldiers marching. "

"Soldiers?" whispered Pen joyfully. "They may be some of our men. "

"That they are not. They are French. "

French they undoubtedly were; for as the lads peered cautiously fromtheir hiding-place, and listened to the rustling and tramp of many feet, an order rang out which betrayed the nationality of what seemed to be alarge body of men coming in their direction. 

"Keep snug, " whispered Punch, "and they won't see us. It's too closehere. "

Pen gripped his companion's arm, and lay trying to catch sight of themarching men for some minutes with a satisfied feeling that the troopswere bearing away from them. But his heart sank directly after; abugle-call rang out, the men again changed their direction, the lineextended, and it became plain that they would pass right over the groundwhere the two lads lay. 

"I am afraid they will see us, Punch, " whispered Pen. "What's to bedone?"

"Run for it. Look here, make straight for that wood up the slope, "whispered Punch. "You go first, and I will follow. "

"But that's uphill, " whispered Pen. 

"Bad for them as for us, " replied the boy. "Up with you; right for thewood. Once there, we are safe. "

Punch had said he hated to argue, and it was no time for argument thenas to the best course. 

Pen gazed in the direction of the approaching party, but they wereinvisible; and, turning to his comrade, "Now then, " he said, "off!"

Springing up, he started at a quick run in and out amongst the bushesand rocks in the direction of the forest indicated by his companion, conscious the next minute, as he glanced back in turning a block ofstone, that Punch was imitating his tactics, carrying his musket at thetrail and bending low as he ran. 

"Keep your head down, Punch, " he said softly, as the boy raced upalongside. "We can't see them, so they can't see us. "

"Don't talk--run, " whispered Punch. "That's right--round to your left. Don't mind me if I hang back a bit. I am short-winded yet. I shallfollow you. "

For answer, Pen slackened pace, and let Punch pass him. 

"Whatcher doing?" whispered the boy. 

"You go first, " replied Pen, "just as fast as you can. I will keepclose behind you. "

Punch uttered a low growl, but he did not stop to argue, and they ran onand on, getting out of breath but lighter hearted, as they both feltthat every minute carried them nearer to safety, for the risky partwhere the slope was all stone and low bush was nearly passed, the densepatch of forest nearer at hand offering to them shelter so thick that, once there, their enemies would have hard work to judge which directionhad been taken; and then all at once, when all danger seemed to be past, there came a shout from behind, and then a shot. 

"Stoop! Stoop, Punch! More to the left!"

"All right. Come on, " was whispered back; and, as Punch bore in thedirection indicated by his comrade, there came shout after shout, shotafter shot, and the next minute, as the fugitives tore on heedless ofeverything but their effort to reach the shelter in advance, it wasperfectly evident to them that the bullets fired were whizzing in theirdirection. 

Twigs were cut and fell; there was the loud _spat, spat_ of the bulletsstriking the rocks; and then, when they were almost within touch of thedark shadows spread by the trees, there came a scattered volley, andboth lads went down heavily, disappearing from the sight of theirpursuers, who sent up a yell of triumph. 

"Punch, " panted Pen, "not hurt?"

The answer was a hoarse utterance, as the boy struggled to his feet andthen dropped again on all-fours. 

"No, no, " he gasped. "Come on! come on! We are close there. "

Pen was breathing hard as he too followed his comrade's movements justas if forced thereto by the natural instinct that prompted imitation;but the moment he reached his feet he dropped down again heavily, andthen began to crawl awkwardly forward so that he might from time to timecatch a glimpse of Punch's retiring form. 

"Come on, come on!" kept reaching his ears; and then he felt dizzy andsick at heart. 

It seemed to be growing dark all at once, but he set it down to theclosing-in of the overshadowing trees. And then minutes passed ofconfusion, exertion, and a feeling as of suffocation consequent upon thedifficulty of catching his breath. 

Then at last--he could not tell how long after--Punch was whispering inhis ear as they lay side by side so close together that the boy's breathcame hot upon his cheek. 

"Oh, how slow you have been! But this 'ere will do--must do, for we canget no farther. Why, you were worse than me. Hurt yourself when youwent down?"

Pen was about to reply, when a French voice shouted, "Forward! Rightthrough the forest!"

There was the trampling of feet, the crackling of dead twigs, andPunch's hand gripped his companion's arm with painful force, as the twolads lay breathless, with their faces buried in the thick covering ofpast years' dead leaves, till the trampling died away and the fugitivesdared to raise their faces a little in the fight for breath. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

HIDE-AND-SEEK. 

"Oh, I say, " whispered Punch, in a half-suffocated tone, "my word! Talkabout near as a toucher! It's all right, comrade; but if I had held mybreath half a jiffy longer I should have gone off pop. Don't you callthis a game? Hide-and-seek and whoop is nothing to it! Garn with you, you thick-headed old frog-soup eaters! Wait till I get my breath. Iwant to laugh. --Can't hear 'em now; can you?"

"No, " said Pen faintly. "Will they come back?"

"Not they, " replied Punch chuckling. "Couldn't find the way again ifthey tried. But we shall have to stay here now till it's dark. Itdon't matter. I want to cool down and get my wind. I say, though, catch your foot on a stone?"

"No, " replied Pen, breathing hard. 

"Thought you did. You did go down--quelch! What you breathing likethat for? You did get out of breath! Turn over on your back. There'snobody to see us now. I say, isn't it nice and shady! Talk about ahiding-place! Look at the beautiful great, long green leaves. Hooray!Chestnuts. We have dropped just into the right place for foraging. Wait a bit and we will creep right into the forest and make a littlefire, and have a roast. What? Oh, it's all right. They have gonestraight on and can't hear me. Here! I say: why, comrade, you did hurtyourself when you went down. Here, what is it? Oh, I am sorry! Ain'tbroke anything, have you?"

"My leg, Punch--my leg, " said Pen faintly. 

"Broke your leg, comrade?" cried the boy. 

"No, no, " said Pen faintly; "not so bad as that. One of the bullets, Ithink, scraped my leg when they fired. "

"Shot!" cried Punch in an excited voice full of agony. "Oh, comrade, not you! Don't say that!"

The lad talked fast, but he was acting all the time. Leaving his musketamongst the leaves, he had crept to Pen's side, and was eagerlyexamining his comrade's now helpless leg. 

"Can't help it, " he whispered, as he searched for and drew out hisknife. "I will rip it down the seam, and we will sew it up again sometime. " And then muttering to himself, "Scraped! It's a bad wound! Wemust get the bullet out. No--no bullet here. " And then, making use ofthe little knowledge he had picked up, Punch tore off strips of cottonfrom his own and his companion's garments, and tightly bandaged thebleeding wound. 

"It's a bad job, comrade, " he said cheerily; "but it might have beenworse if the Frenchies could shoot. There's no bones broke, and you arenot going to grumble; but I'd have given anything if it hadn't been yourturn now. Hurt much. "

"Quite enough, Punch, " said Pen with a rather piteous smile. "It'squite right; my turn now; but don't stop. You've stopped the bleeding, so get on. "

"What say?"

"Go on now, " said Pen, "while there's a chance to escape. Those fellowswill be sure to come back this way, and you will lose your opportunityif you wait. "

"Poor chap!" said Punch, as if speaking to himself, and he laid a handon Pen's wet forehead. "Look at that now! I have made a nasty mark;but I couldn't help it, for there was no water here for a wash. But, poor chap, he won't know. He's worse than I thought, though; talkinglike that--quite off his head. "

"I am not, Punch, but you will send me off it if you go on like that. Do as I tell you, boy. Escape while there's a chance. "

"He's quite queer, " said Punch, "and getting worse; but I suppose Ican't do anything more. "

"No; you can do no more, so don't waste your chance of escape. It willbe horrible for you to be made prisoner again, so off with you while thecoast's clear. Do you hear me?"

"Hear you! Yes, you needn't shout and tell the Johnnies that we arehiding here. "

"No, no, of course not; it was very foolish, but the pain of the woundand your obstinacy made me excited. Now then, shake hands, and, there'sa good fellow, go. "

"Likely!" said Punch, wiping the pain-drops from Pen's face. 

"What do you mean by that?" said Pen angrily. 

"What do I mean by what? You are a bit cracked like, or else youwouldn't talk like this. "

"Not tell you to run while there's a chance?"

"Not tell me to run like this when there's a chance!" replied Punch. "Jigger the chance! So you just hold your tongue and lie quiet. Sha'n't go! There. "

"But, Punch, don't be foolish, there's a good fellow. "

"No, I won't; and don't you be foolish. Pst! Hear that? They arecoming back. "

"There's time still, " said Pen, lowering his voice. 

"Oh, is there? You just look here. Here they are, coming nearer andnearer. Do you want them to come and take us both?"

"No, no, no, " whispered Pen. 

"Then just you hold your tongue, " said Punch, nestling down close to hiscomrade's side, for the rustle and tramp of many feet began to grownearer again; and as Punch lay upon his back with his eyes turned in thedirection of the approaching sound he soon after caught a glimpse or twoof sunlight flashed from the barrels of muskets far down the forestaisles, as their bearers seemed to be coming right for where they lay. 

"Look here, " said Punch softly, "they look as if they are comingstraight here; but there's a chance for us yet, so let's take it, and ifthey don't find us--Mind, I didn't want you to be hit; but as you are, and I suppose was to be, I am jolly glad of it, for it gives a fellow achance. And what's the good of me talking?" said the boy to himselfnow. "He's gone right off, swoonded, as they call it. Poor old chap!It does seem queer. But it might have been worse, as I said before. Wanted me to run away, did you? Likely, wasn't it? Why, if I had runit would have served me jolly well right if somebody had shot me downagain. Not likely, comrade! I mayn't be a man, but my father was aBritish soldier, and that's what's the matter with me. "

Punch lay talking to himself, but not loudly enough to startle a birdwhich came flitting from tree to tree in advance of the approachingsoldiers, and checked its flight in one of the low branches of a greatoverhanging chestnut, and then kept on changing its position as itpeered down at the two recumbent figures, its movements startling thebugler, who now began in a whisper to address the bird. 

"Here, " he said, "what game do you call that? You don't mean to say youhave come here like this to show the Johnny Crapauds where we are, sothat they may take us prisoners? No, I thought not. It wouldn't befair, and I don't suppose they have even seen you; but it did look likeit. Here they come, though, and in another minute they will see us, and--Oh, poor Gray! It will be bad for him, poor chap; and--No, theydon't. They are wheeling off to the left; but if they look this waythey must see us, and if they had been English lads that's just whatthey would have done. Why, they couldn't help seeing us--a set ofbat-eyed bull-frogs; that's what I call them. Yah! Go on home! Idon't think much of you. Now then, they are not coming here, and Idon't care where they go as long as they don't find us. Now, what'snext to be done? What I want is another goat-herd's hut, so as I cancarry my poor old comrade into shelter. Now, where is it to be found?I don't know, but it's got to be done; and ain't it rum that my poor oldmate here should have his dose, and me have to play the nurse twiceover!"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

"UNLUCKY BEGGARS. "

"If one wasn't in such trouble, " said Punch to himself, as he lay in thegrowing darkness beneath the great chestnut-tree, "one would have timeto think what a beautiful country this is. But of all the unluckybeggars that ever lived, Private Pen Gray and Bugler Bob Punchard isabout the two worst. Only think of it: we had just got out of all thattrouble with my wound and Gray's fever, then he gets hit and I got tonurse him all over again. Well, that's all clear enough. --How are younow, comrade?" he said aloud, as after cautiously gazing round in searchof danger, he raised his head and bent over his wounded companion. 

There was no reply, and Punch went on softly, "It's my turn now to saywhat you said to me. Sleepy, are you? Well, go on, and have plenty ofit. It's the best thing for you. What did you say? Nature sets towork to mend you again? No, he didn't. I forget now, but that's whathe meant. Now, I wonder whether it's safe for me to go away and leavehim. No, of course it isn't, for I may tumble up against the French, who will make me a prisoner, and I sha'n't be able to make themunderstand that my comrade is lying wounded under this tree, and if Icould I don't want to. That's one thing. Another is that if I startoff and leave him here I sha'n't be able to find him again. Then, whatam I going for? To try and find water, for my throat's like sand, andsomething to eat better than these chestnuts, for I don't believe theyare anything like ripe. Oh dear! This is a rum start altogether. Idon't know what to do. This is coming to the wars, and no mistake!There never was really such unlucky chaps as we are. It will be darkbefore long. Then I shall seem to be quite alone. To be all alone herein a great wood like this is enough to make any fellow feel scared. It's just the sort of place where the wolves will be. Well, if they docome, we have got two muskets, and if it isn't too dark I will have twowolves, and that will keep the others off as long as they have got theones I shot to eat. --Did you speak, comrade?" he whispered, as he oncemore bent over Pen. "No, he's fast asleep. Wish I was, so as to forgetall about it, for the sun's quite down now, and I don't know how I am toget through such a night as this. However, here goes to try. Ugh! Howcold it is turning!"

The boy shivered as the wind that came down from the mountains seemedbitterly cold to one who had been drenched in perspiration by theexertion and excitement that he had passed through. 

"Poor old Private Gray!" he muttered. "He will be feeling it worse thanme if he don't turn feverish. "

The boy hesitated for a few moments, and then, stripping off his jacket, he crept as close to his wounded companion as he could, and thencarefully spread the ragged uniform coat over their breasts. 

"Ought to have got his off too, " he muttered, "but I mustn't. Must makethe best of it and try and go to sleep, keeping him warm. But no fellowcould go to sleep at a time like this. "

It was a rash assertion, for many minutes had not passed before the boywas sleeping soundly the sleep of utter weariness and exhaustion; andthe next time he unclosed his eyes as he lay there upon his back, nothaving moved since he lay down, it was to gaze wonderingly at thebeautiful play of morning light upon the long, glossy, dark-green leavesover his head; for the sun had just risen and was bronzing the leaveswith ruddy gold. 

The birds were singing somewhere at the edge of the forest, and allseemed so wonderful and strange that the boy muttered to himself as heasked the question, "Where am I?"

So deep had been his sleep that it seemed to be one great puzzle. 

He knew it was cold, and he wondered at that, for now and then he felt afaint glow of warm sunshine. Then, like a flash, recollection cameback, and he turned his head to gaze at his companion, but only towrench himself away and roll over and over a yard or two, before sittingup quickly, trembling violently. For he was chilled with horror by thethought that his companion had passed away during the night. 

It was some minutes before he dared speak. "Pen!" he whispered, atlast. "Gray!" He waited, with the horror deepening, for there hiscompanion lay upon his back motionless, and though he strained his necktowards him he could detect no movement of his breath, while his ownstaring eyes began to grow dim, and the outstretched figure before himlooked misty and strange. 

"He's dead! He's dead!" groaned the poor fellow. "And me lyingsleeping there, never taking any notice of him when he called for help--for he must have called--and me pretending to be his comrade all thetime! 'Tain't how he treated me. Oh, Pen! Pen Gray, old chap! Speakto me, if it's only just one word! Oh, if I had not laid down! I oughtto have stood up and watched him; but I did think it was to keep himwarm. No, you didn't!" he cried angrily, addressing himself. "You didit to warm yourself. "

At last, recovering his nerve somewhat, the boy began to crawl on handsand knees towards the motionless figure, till he was near enough to layhis hand upon his companion's breast. Then twice over he stretched itout slowly and cautiously, but only to snatch it back, till a feeling ofrage at his cowardice ran through him, and he softly lowered it down, let it rest there for a few moments, and then with a thrill of joy heexclaimed, "Why, it's all fancy! He is alive. "

"Yes, what? Who spoke?"

"I did, " cried Punch, springing to his feet. "Hooray, comrade! It'sall right. I woke up, and began to think--Pst! pst!" he whispered, ashe dropped down upon hands and knees again. For there was a rush offeet, and a patch of undergrowth a short distance beyond the spread ofthe great chestnut boughs was violently agitated. 

"Why, it's only goats, " muttered Punch angrily. "I scared them byjumping up. Wish I had got one of their young uns here. "

"What is it? Who's that? You, Punch?"

"Yes, comrade; it's all right. But how are you? All right?"

"Yes--no. I have been asleep and dreaming. What does it all mean, Punch? What's the matter with my leg?"

"Can't you recollect, comrade?"

Pen was silent for a few moments, and then: "Yes, " he said softly, "Iunderstand now. I was hurt. Why, it's morning! I haven't been tosleep all the night, have I?"

"Yes, comrade, and, "--Punch hesitated for a moment, and then with aneffort--"so have I. "

"I am glad of it, " sighed Pen. 

Then he winced, for he had made an effort to rise, but sank back again, feeling faint. 

"Help me, Punch, " he said. 

"Whatcher want?"

"To sit up with my back against the tree. "

Punch hesitated, and then obeyed. 

"Ah, that's better, " sighed Pen. "I am not much hurt. "

"Oh yes, you are, " said Punch, shaking his head. 

"Nonsense! I recollect all about it now. Can you get me some water?"

"I'll try, " was the reply; "but can you really sit up like that?"

"Yes, of course. We shall be able to go on again soon. "

"Wha-at!" cried Punch. "Oh yes, I dare say! You can't go on. But Iknow what I am going to do. If the French are gone I am going to huntround till I find one of them cottages. There must be one somewhereabout, because I just started some goats. And look there! Why, ofcourse there must be some people living near here. " And the boy pointedto a dozen or so of pigs busily rooting about amongst the dead leaves ofthe forest, evidently searching for chestnuts and last year's acornsshed by the evergreen oaks. 

"Now, look here, " continued the boy. "Soon as I am sure that you cansit up and wait, I am just off to look out for some place where I cancarry you. "

"I can sit up, " replied Pen. "I have got a nasty wound that will takesome time to heal; but it's nothing to mind, Punch, for it's the sort ofthing that will get well without a doctor. But you must find shelter orbeg shelter for us till I can tramp again. "

"But I can carry yer, comrade. "

"A little way perhaps. There, don't stop to talk. Go and do the bestyou can. "

"But is it safe to leave you?" protested Punch. 

"Yes; there is nothing to mind, unless some of the French fellows findme. "

"That does it, then, " said Punch sturdily. "I sha'n't go. "

"You must, I tell you. "

"I don't care; I ain't going to leave you. "

"Do you want me to starve, or perish with cold in the night. "

"Course I don't!"

"Then do as I tell you. "

"But suppose the French come?"

"Well, if they do we must chance it; but if you are careful in going andcoming I don't think they will find me; and I don't suppose you will belong. "

"That I won't, " cried the boy confidently. "Here goes, then--I am to doit?"

"Yes. "

"Then here's off. "

"No, don't do that, " cried Pen. 

"Why not? Hadn't I better take the muskets?"

"No. You are more likely to get help for me if you go without arms;and, besides, Punch, " added Pen, with a faint smile, "I might want themuskets to defend myself against the wolves. "

"All right, " replied the boy, replacing the two clumsy French pieces byhis comrade's side. "Keep up your spirits, old chap; I won't be long. "

The next minute the boy had plunged into the thicket-like outskirts ofthe forest, where he stopped short to look back and mentally mark thegreat chestnut-tree. 

"I shall know that, " he said, "from ever so far off. It is easy to'member by the trunk, which goes up twisted like a screw. Now then, which way had I better go?"

Punch had a look round as far as the density of the foliage would allowhim, and then gave his head a scratch. 

"Oh dear!" he muttered, "who's to know which way to go? It's regularblind-man's buff. How many horses has your father got? Shut your eyes, comrade. Now then. Three! What colour? Black, white, and grey. Turnround three times and catch who you may. "

The boy, with his eyes tightly closed and his arms spread out on eitherside, turned round the three times of the game, and then opened his eyesand strode right away. 

"There can't be no better way than chancing it, " he said. "But holdhard! Where's my tree?"

He was standing close to a beautifully shaped ilex, and for a fewmoments he could not make out the great spiral-barked chestnut, till, just as he began to fancy that he had lost his way at once, he caughtsight of its glossy bronzed leaves behind the greyish green ilex. 

"That's all right, " he said. "Now then, here's luck. "

It was a bitter fight with grim giant despair as the boy tramped on, andtime after time, faint with hunger, suffering from misery, he was aboutto throw himself down upon the earth, utterly broken in spirit, but hefought on bravely. 

"I never saw such a country!" he muttered. "There ought to be plenty oftowns and villages and people, but it's all desert and stones andscrubby trees. Any one would think that you couldn't walk anywherewithout finding something to eat, and there's nothing but the goats andpigs, and as soon as they catch sight of you away they go. "

Over and over again he climbed hillsides to reach spots where he couldlook down, in the full expectation of seeing some village or cluster ofhuts. But it was all the same, there was nothing to be seen; till, growing alarmed lest he should find that he had lost touch with hislandmarks, he began to retrace his steps in utter despair, but only todrop down on his knees at last and bury his face in his hands, to giveway to the emotion that for a few moments he could not master. 

"There, " he muttered, recovering himself, "I could not help it, butthere was no one to see. Just like a silly great gal. It is beinghungry, I suppose, and weak with my wound; and, my word, it does sting!But there's some one at last!"

The boy looked sharply round. 

"Why, you idgit!" he gasped, "you've lost him again. No, it's allright, " he cried, and he started off at a trot in the direction of ashort, plump-looking figure in rusty black, who, bent of head and bookin hand, was slowly descending a slope away to his right. 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

THE USE OF LATIN. 

"There! Ahoy!" shouted Punch, and the black figure slowly raised hishead and began to look round till he was gazing in quite the oppositedirection to where the boy was hurrying towards him, and Punch had afull view of the stranger's back and a ruddy-brown roll of fat fleshwhich seemed to be supporting a curious old hat, looking like a rustyold stove-pipe, perched horizontally upon the wearer's head. 

"Hi! Not that way! Look this!" cried Punch as he closed up. "Here, Isay, where's the nearest village?"

The stove-pipe turned slowly round, and Punch found himself face to facewith a plump-looking little man who slowly closed the book he carriedand tucked it inside his shabby gown. 

"Morning!" said Punch. 

The little man bowed slowly and with some show of dignity, and thengazed sternly in the boy's face and waited. 

"I said good-morning, sir, " said the boy; and then to himself, "what arum-looking little chap!--Can you tell me--"

Punch got no further, for the little stranger shook his head, frownedmore sternly, and shrugged his shoulders as he made as if to take outhis book again. 

"I ain't a beggar, sir, " cried the boy. "I only want you to--Oh, hecan't understand me!" he groaned. "Look here, can you understand this?"And he commenced in dumb motions to give the stranger a difficultproblem to solve. 

But it proved to be not too difficult, for the little man smiled, noddedhis head, and imitated Punch's suggestive pantomime of eating anddrinking. Then, laying one hand upon the boy's shoulder, he pointedwith the other down the slope and tried to guide him in that direction. 

"All right, " said Punch, nodding, "I understand. That's where you live;but not yet. Come this way. " And, catching the little stranger by thearm, Punch pointed towards the forest and tried to draw his companion inthat direction. 

The plump little man shook his head and suggested that they should go inthe other direction. 

"Oh, a mercy me!" cried Punch excitedly. "Why, don't you understand?Look here, sir, I can see what you are. You are a priest. I have seenfolks like you more than once. Now, just look here. "

The little man shrugged his shoulders again, shook his head, and thenlooked compassionately at the boy. 

"That's better, " said Punch. "Now, sir, do try and understand, there'sa good fellow. Just look here!"

The boy tapped him on the shoulder now, and pointed towards the wood. 

"Now, look here, sir; it's like this. "

Punch made-believe to present a musket, after giving a sharp _click, click_ with his tongue in imitation of the cocking of the piece, cried_Bang_! and then gave a jump, clapped his hand to his right leg, staggered, threw himself down, and then struggled up into a sittingposition, to sit up nursing his leg, which he made-believe to bind upwith a bandage. Then, holding out his hand to the little priest, hecaught hold of him, dragged himself up, but let himself fall back, rolled over, and lay looking at him helplessly. 

"Understand that?" he cried, as he sprang to his feet again. "You mustbe jolly stupid if you can't. Now then, look here, sir, " he continued, pointing and gesticulating with great energy, "my poor comrade is lyingover yonder under a tree, wounded and starving. Come and help me tofetch him, there's a good old chap. "

The priest looked at him fixedly, and then, taking his cue from the boy, he pointed in the direction Punch had indicated, nodded, clapped the boyon the shoulder, and began to walk by his side. 

"There, I thought I could make you understand, " cried Punch eagerly. "But you might say something. Ain't deaf and dumb, are you?"

The little priest shook his head, muttered to himself, and then, bendingdown, he tapped his own leg, and looking questioningly in his would-beguide's face, he began to limp. 

"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Punch excitedly. And, imitating his companion, he bent down, tapped his own leg, then limped as if walking with thegreatest of difficulty and made-believe to sink down helplessly. 

"Good! I understand, " said the little priest in Spanish. "Wounded. Lead on. "

Punch held out his hand, which the little stranger took, and sufferedhimself to be led in the direction of the great chestnut, shaking hishead and looking questioningly more than once at the boy, as Punchhesitated and seemed to be in doubt, and ran here and there trying tomake out his bearings, successfully as it happened, for he caught sightat last of the object of his search, hurried back to the little priest'sside, to stand panting and faint, passing his hand over his drippingface, utterly exhausted. 

"Can't help it, sir, " he said piteously. "I have been wounded. Justlet me get my breath, and then we will go on again. I am sure now. Oh, I do wish I could make you understand better!" added the boy piteously. "There's my poor comrade yonder, perhaps dying by this time, and meturning like this!"

For just then he reeled and would have fallen if the little priest hadnot caught him by the arms and lowered him slowly down. 

"Thank you, sir, " said Punch, with a sob half-choking his utterance. "It's all on account of my wound, sir. There, I'm better now. Comeon. "

He tried to struggle up, but the little priest shook his head andpressed him back. 

"Thank you, sir. It's very good of you; but I want to get on. He'sgetting tired of waiting, you know. " And Punch pointed excitedly in thedirection of the tree. 

The journey was continued soon after, with Punch's arm locked in that ofhis new-found friend; and in due time Punch staggered through the treesto where Pen lay, now meeting his gaze with a wild look of misery anddespair. 

"It's all right, comrade, " cried Punch. "I have found somebody at last. He must live somewhere near here, but I can't make him understandanything, only that you were lying wounded. Did you think I hadforgotten you?"

"No, " said Pen faintly, "I never thought that. "

"Look here, " said Punch, "say something to him in French. Tell him Iwant to get you to a cottage, and say we are starving. "

Pen obeyed, and faintly muttered a few words in French; but the priestshook his head. 

"_Frances_?" he said. 

"No, no, " replied Pen. "_Ingles_. "

"Ah, _Ingles_!" said the priest, smiling; and he went down on one kneeto softly touch the rough bandage that was about the wounded leg. 

Then, to the surprise of both boys, he carefully raised Pen into asitting position, signed to Punch to hold him up, and then taking offhis curiously fashioned hat and hanging it upon a broken branch of thetree, the boys saw that Nature had furnished him with the tonsure of thepriest without the barber's aid, and they had the opportunity now ofseeing that it was a pleasantly wrinkled rosy face, with a pair ofgood-humoured-looking eyes that gazed up in theirs. 

"What's he going to do?" said Punch in a whisper. 

He comprehended the next minute, and eagerly lent his aid, for thelittle priest, twisting up his gown and securing it round his waist, began to prove himself a worthy descendant of the Good Samaritan, thoughwanting in the ability to set the wounded traveller upon his own ass. 

Going down, though, upon one knee, he took hold of first one hand andthen the other, and, with Punch's assistance to his own naturalstrength, he got Pen upon his back, hitching him up a little, and then alittle more, till he had drawn the wounded lad's arms across his chest. 

This done, he knelt there on one knee, panting, before drawing a deepbreath prior to rising with his burden. Then he tried to stand up, butwithout success. 

He waited, then tried again; but once more without success, for theweight was greater than he had anticipated. 

"Can't you manage it, sir?" said Punch. "Here, let me try. "

The little priest shook his head, but released one of Pen's hands andcaught hold of Punch by the shoulder. 

"Yes, I know, sir, " cried Punch, and after waiting till their new friendwas ready, the boy brought his strength to bear as well, and the littlepriest stood up, gave his load a hitch or two to balance it well uponhis shoulders, and then looked sharply at Punch and then at his hat. 

"Carry your hat, sir?" cried Punch excitedly, "of course I will. Itwill be all right. "

The priest shook his head. 

"What? Oh, you mean stick it on, sir? All right, sir; I understand. What, is that wrong? Oh, t'other side first! There you are, then, sir. Will that do?"

The priest shook his head, bent a little forward so as to well balancehis load, and then, setting one hand at liberty, he put his hat oncorrectly, grasped both Pen's hands once more, and then began to marchout of the forest. 

"I'm blessed!" muttered Punch. "Didn't know they carried pickaback inSpain. The little chap's as strong as a horse--pony, I mean. --Does ithurt you much, comrade?"

"Not much, Punch. Don't talk to me, though; only, thank goodness thatwe have found a friend!" The little priest trudged sturdily on with hisload, taking a direction along the edge of the forest, which Punch notedwas different from any that he had traversed during his search, while atthe same time it became plain to him that their new friend was findinghis load rather hard work to carry, for first a little dew began toappear; this dew gradually grew into tiny beads, the tiny beads ran intodrops, and the drops gathered together till they began to trickle andrun. 

At this point the little priest stopped short by the side of a rugged, gnarled tree, and, bending a little lower, rested his hands upon ahorizontal branch. 

"Look here, sir, " said Punch, "let me have a try now. I ain't up to itmuch, but it would give you a rest. "

The priest shook his head, drew a deep breath, and trudged on again, proving his strength to be greater than could have been imagined toexist in such a little, plump, almost dwarf-like form, for with anoccasional rest he tramped on for the best part of an hour, till at lasthe paused just at the edge of a deep slope, and struck off a little wayto his left to where a beaten track led to a good-sized cottage. 

"Why couldn't I find all this?" thought Punch, as he gazed down into avalley dotted with huts, evidently a village fairly well inhabited. "Why, it was as easy as easy, only I didn't know the way. "

"Ah!" ejaculated the priest, as he thrust open the door, stepped into avery humbly furnished room, crossed at once to a rough pallet, andgently lowered his burden upon the simple bed. "The saints be praised!"he said in Latin; and the words and the new position had such a revivingeffect upon the wounded rifleman that he caught at one of the priest'shands and held to it firmly. 

"God bless you for this!" he said, for unconsciously the priest's wordshad been the opening of the door of communication between him and thosehe had brought to his home; for though the words possessed apronunciation that was unfamiliar, the old Latin tongue recalled to Penyears of study in the past, and he snatched at the opportunity of sayinga few words that the old man could understand. 

A pleasant smile beamed on the utterly wearied out old fellow'scountenance as he bent over Pen and patted him gently on the shoulder. 

"Good, good!" he said in Latin; and he set himself about the task ofsupplying them with food. 

This was simple enough, consisting as it did of bread and herbs--justsuch a repast as might have been expected from some ascetic holy mandwelling in the mountains; but the herbs in this case were silvery-brownskinned Spanish onions with salt. 

Then taking up a small earthen jar, he passed out of the dark room intothe sunshine; and as soon as the boys were alone Punch turned eagerly tohis companion. 

"Not worse, are you, comrade?" he said anxiously. 

"No, Punch, not worse. But has he gone to fetch water?"

"Yes, I think so. But just you tell me: does your leg hurt you much?"

"Quite enough, " replied Pen, breaking off a portion of the bread andplacing a few fragments between his lips. "But don't talk to me now. Iam starving. "

"Yes, I know that, " cried Punch; "and call this 'ere bread! It's allsolid crust, when it ought to be crumb for a chap like you. Look here, you could eat one of these onions, couldn't you?"

"No, no; not now. Go on; never mind me. "

"But I do mind you, " cried the boy. "And how can I go on eating withoutyou? I say, though, what a chap you are! What was that you said tohim?"

"Bless you for this!"

"Yes, I guessed that was it; but how did you say it so as to make himunderstand? I talked to him enough, but he couldn't make out a word ofwhat I said. Was that there Spanish?"

"No, Punch; Latin. "

"Ah, you seem to know everything. "

At that moment a shadow fell athwart the door, and the speaker made adash at one of the muskets he had stood up against the wall on enteringthe priest's cottage. 

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!" he cried hastily. "I didn't know it wasyou. "

The old man smiled, and entered with the dripping jar which he had justfilled from a neighbouring spring, and held it towards the boy. 

"Me drink, sir? Thank ye, sir, " cried Punch; and, taking the jar, hewas raising it towards his parched mouth, but before it was half-waythere he recollected himself, and carried it to the priest's pallet, where he went down on his knees and held it to Pen's lips, so that thepoor fellow, who was burning with feverish pain, was able to drink longand deeply. 

Pen was still drinking when Punch started and spilt a few drops of thewater as he turned hastily to look up at their host, who had laid a softbrown hand upon his head, and was looking down at him with a pleasantsmile. 

"What did he do that for, comrade?"

"I don't know, " said Pen, drawing a deep breath, as he withdrew his lipsfrom the water. "Yes, I do, " he added quickly. "He meant that he waspleased because you let me drink first. "

"Course I did. I don't see anything to be pleased about in that. Buthave a drop more, comrade. Quick, look sharp, before I go mad andsnatches it away from you, for I never felt like this before. "

"Go on then now, Punch. "

"But--"

"Go on then now; I can wait. "

"Ah, then!" ejaculated the boy, with a deep sigh that was almost agroan; and with trembling hands he held the jar to his lips and drank, and recovered his breath and drank again as if it was impossible tosatisfy his burning thirst. 

Then recovering himself, he held the jar against Pen's lips. 

"Talk about wine, " he said; "why, it ain't in it! I don't wonder thathe looks so fat and happy, though he is dressed up like an oldscarecrow. Fancy living here with a pump of water like this close athand!--Had enough now?--That's right. Now you go on breaking off bitsof that bread and dipping it in the water while I cuts up one of these. "

He took his knife from his pocket and began to peel one of the onions, when their host placed the little vessel of salt close to his hand. 

"Thank you, sir, " cried Punch. "You are a real gentleman. "

The priest smiled and nodded, and watched the two lads as Pen took anearthenware bowl that their host placed close to his hand afterhalf-filling it with water so that he could steep the bread, while Punchdeftly peeled one of the onions, not scrupling about littering thefloor, and then proceeded to quarter it and then divide the segmentsagain, dipping one in the salt and placing it between his woundedcompanion's lips. 

"Good! good!" said the priest again, smiling with satisfaction, andlaying his hand once more upon Punch's head. "_Bonum! bonum_!"

"Bone 'em!" said Punch. "Why, he give it to me!"

"He means it was good, Punch, " said Pen, smiling. 

"Good! Yes, " cried the boy, crunching up one of the savoury pieces ofvegetable. "That's what he means, is it? Thought he meant I had stolenit. --_Bonum_, eh, sir? I should just think it is! Wants a bit moresalt; but my word, it's fine! Have a bit more, comrade. You eat whilethere's a chance. Never mind me. I can keep both of us going. Talkabout a dinner or a supper; I could keep on till dark! Only wish, though, I'd got one of their Spanish shillings to pay for it; but thoseFrench beggars took care of them for me. I can give him my knife, though; and I will too, as soon as I have done with it. How do you feelnow, comrade?"

"Better, Punch, better, " replied Pen. "Thank you, " he continued, as hiscompanion broke off more bread for him and then began to peel anotheronion. "But you are paying more attention to me than you are toyourself. "

"Course I am, comrade. Didn't you pay more attention to me when I waswounded?"

Then turning to the priest, he pointed to the bread with his knife, andthen tapped the onion he had begun to quarter with the blade. 

"Splendid, sir, " he said, smiling. "_Bonum! bonum_!"

The priest nodded, and then rose from where he had been seated watchingthe boys and walked through the open door, to stand just outsidesweeping the scattered houses of the little village with his eyes, andremaining there, so as to leave his two guests to themselves. 

"You are beginning to get a bit better, comrade?" asked Punch anxiously. 

"Yes, Punch, yes, " was the reply. 

"So am I. Feel as if I am growing as strong as a horse again. Why, comrade, it was worth getting as hungry, thirsty, and tired as that, soas to enjoy such a meal. I don't mean speaking for you, because I knowyou must be feeling that gnaw, gnaw, grinding pain in your wound. Butdo go on eating, and when you have had enough you shut-up shop and gooff to sleep. Then I will ask that old chap to give me a bit of rag andlet me wash and tie up your wound. I say, comrade, I hope he didn't seeme laugh at him. Did you?"

"See you laugh at him? No. Did you?"

"Yes; couldn't help it, when he was carrying you, bent down like he was, with that queer shako of his. When I was behind he looked somethinglike a bear, and I couldn't help having a good grin. Mum, though; herehe comes. "

The old priest now came slowly in and stood watching the two lads, whohurriedly finished their meal. 

"Stand up, Punch, " said Pen. 

"What for? I was just going to clear away. "

"Stand up, I tell you!"

"All right;" and the boy rose immediately, staring hard at hiscompanion, as Pen, with a quiver of emotion in his utterance, laid hishand over the remains of the black-bread, and said, gazing hard at theold priest the while, "_Benedictus, benedicat_. Amen. "

"Ah!" said the priest, with a long-drawn breath of satisfaction;"_Benedictus, benedicat_ Amen. "

Then, taking a step towards them, he laid his hand upon the heads of histwo guests in turn and said a few words in an undertone. Next, pointingto the rough pallet-bed, he signed to Punch that he should lie downbeside his companion. 

"What, take a snooze there, sir?" said Punch. "Thank you, sir. But notyet. --You tell him in your Latin stuff, comrade, that I want to do a bitof doctoring first. "

"I'll try, " said Pen wearily, already half-asleep; when, to the surpriseof both, the old man went outside and returned with a little wooden tubof water which he brought to the bedside, and then, in spite of ahalf-hearted protestation on the part of Punch, he proceeded tocarefully attend to the wound. 

"Well, it's very good of you, sir, " said the boy at last, after doinghis best to help, "and I wish I could make you understand what I say. But you have done it a deal better than I could have done, and I am sureif my comrade could have kept himself awake he would be ready enough tosay something in Latin that would mean you are a trump, and he's verymuch obliged. But, you see, all I know, sir, about Latin--"

"Latin!" said the old priest, beaming upon him with wondering eyes. 

"Yes, sir--Latin, sir, as I learnt of him;" and then, pointing to thecarefully bandaged limb, "_bonum_, sir; _bonum_!"

The priest nodded, as he pointed to the pallet, where there was room forPunch to lie down by his sleeping companion; but the boy shook his head. 

"No, sir, " he said, "that's your roost; I do know that, " And, before hishost could interfere, the boy placed one musket within reach of Pen'shand, the other beside the door, across which he stretched himself. 

It was now nearly dark, and after placing his little home in somethinglike order, the old man turned to where Punch had been resting upon onearm a few minutes before, watching his movements, but was now prone uponthe beaten-earth floor fast asleep, with a look of restfulness upon hisyoung, sunburnt countenance. 

The old man stepped carefully across him, to stand outside peeringthrough the evening gloom down into the silent village before, satisfiedand content, he turned back into the hut, closing the door carefullyafter him, placing across it a heavy oaken bar, before stepping backacross Punch, to stand in the middle of the floor deep in thought. 

Then his hand began to move, from force of habit, searching for andbringing out from beneath his gown a little, worn snuff-box, whichsqueaked faintly as he turned the lid and refreshed himself with twopinches of its brown contents. 

This was done very slowly and deliberately in the semi-darkness, andfinally the box was replaced and a few grains of the dust flicked away. 

"Ah!" ejaculated the old man with a long-drawn sigh, as he looked fromone to the other of his guests. "English, " he muttered. "Soldiers, butfriends and defenders against the French. English--heretics! But, " headded softly, as if recalling something that had passed, "_Benedictus, benedicat_. Amen!"

Then, crossing softly to one corner of the room, he drew open whatseemed to be the door of a cupboard; but it was too dark to show that inplace of staircase there was a broad step-ladder. 

This the old man ascended, and directly after the ill-fitting boardswhich formed the ceiling of his humble living-room creaked as he steppedupon them, and then there was a faint rustling as if he were removingleaves and stems of the Indian corn that was laid in company with otherstores in what was undoubtedly a little loft, whose air was heavy withvarious odours suggesting the presence of vegetables and fruit. 

The oaken boards creaked once more as if the old man was stretchinghimself upon them with a sigh of weariness and satisfaction. 

"Amen!" he said softly, and directly after a ray of light shot acrossthe place, coming through the wooden bars in the gable of the slopingroof, for the moon had just risen over the shoulder of the mountain tolight up the valley beneath, where the priest's hut clung to its rockywall; to light up, too, the little loft and its contents, and, aboveall, the features of the sleeping man, gentle-looking in their repose. And could the lads he had befriended have gazed upon him then they wouldhave seen nothing that appeared grotesque. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

THROUGH A KNOT-HOLE. 

"Yes, what is it?" cried Pen, starting up on the bed at a touch from hiscompanion, who had laid his hand gently on the sleeping lad's forehead, and then sinking back again with a faint ejaculation of pain. 

"Don't be scared, comrade; it's only me. Does it hurt you?"

"Yes, my leg's horribly stiff and painful. "

"Poor chap! Never mind. I will bathe it and dress it by-and-by if thatold priest don't do it. When you jumped up like that I thought youfancied it was the French coming. "

"I did, Punch, " said Pen with a faint smile. "I seem to have beendreaming all night that they were after us, and I could not get awaybecause my leg hurt me so. "

"Then lie down again, " said Punch. "Things ain't so bad as that. But, I say, comrade, I can't help it; I am as bad as ever again. "

"Bad! Your wound?"

"No, no; that's getting all right. But that old chap seems to have shutus up here and gone. Didn't happen to see, did you, where he put thebread and onions? I am quite hollow inside. "

"No, Punch. I fell asleep, and I can't recollect how or when. "

"That's a pity, 'cause I know we should be welcome, and I can't make outwhere he put the forage when he cleared away. "

It was the sunrise of a bright morning, and the sounds of bleating goatscame plainly to the listeners' ears as the nimble animals were makingtheir way up the valley-side to their pasture. 

Then all at once came the sharp creak of a board, and Punch dashed athis musket, caught it up, cocked it, and stood ready to use it indefence of his companion. 

There was another creak or two, evidently from overhead, and as Punchstood there on the alert, his brows knit and teeth clenched, Pen softlystole his hand in the direction of his own musket and raised himself upon the bed ready to help. 

Again there came a creak or two, a rustling in the corner of the room asof some one descending from above, and, though invisible, the muzzles ofthe two pieces were slowly lowered in the direction of the noise, tillwith a crack the door in the corner was thrust inward and the little oldpriest stood looking wonderingly from one to the other as he raised hishand. 

It was as if this were a signal to disarm, when the two muskets werehurriedly replaced, and Punch advanced towards the corner of the room, offering to shake hands. 

The priest smiled, took the boy's fingers, and then, thrusting to thedoor, he crossed to the bed, felt Pen's forehead, and afterwards pointedto the wounded leg. 

The next minute he went to the door, removed the great bar, and admittedthe bright light and fresh air of the morning in company with the louderbleating of the goats, which animals evidently came trotting up to theold man as he stepped back to look searchingly round. Then, afterspeaking kindly to them, he drove them away, returned into the roomdirectly after with water, and proceeded to busily attend to Pen'swound. 

"That's good of him, " said Punch petulantly, "and I am glad to see himdo it, comrade; but I wish he'd thought to attend to my wound too--Imean, give me the chance to dress it myself with bread and onionpoultice. I don't know when I felt so hollow inside. "

But he had not long to wait, for, evidently well satisfied with thestate of Pen's injury, the priest finished attending to him as tenderlyas if his touch were that of a woman, and then Punch was at rest, forthe old man placed the last night's simple fare before them, signed tothem to eat, and, leaving them to themselves, went outside again, tosweep the valley below with a long and scrutinising gaze. 

Twice over during the next two days Pen made an effort to rise, tellinghis companion when they were alone that if he had a stick he thought hecould manage to limp along a short distance at a time, for it was veryevident that the old man, their host, was uneasy in his own mind abouttheir presence. 

"He evidently wants to get rid of us, Punch. "

"Think so?" said the boy. 

"Yes. See how he keeps fidgeting in and out to go on looking round tosee if anybody's coming. "

"Yes, I have noticed that, " said Punch. "He thinks the French arecoming after us, and that he will get into trouble for keeping us here. "

"Yes; it's plain enough, so let's go. "

"But you can't, comrade. "

"Yes, I can. "

"Not without making your wound worse. That's what you would have saidto me. "

"Then I must make it worse, " said Pen angrily. "Next time he comes inI'll try to make him explain which way we ought to go to find some ofour people. "

"Well, we can only try, " replied Punch, "for 'tain't nice living onanybody when you can't pay, and I do feel ashamed to eat as I do withoutbeing able to find money for it. 'Tain't as if he was an enemy. I'dlet him see then. "

"Go and open the door, Punch, and let the fresh air in. The sun doesmake this place so hot!"

"Can't, comrade. "

"Why not?"

"I did try while you was asleep; but he's locked us in. "

"Nonsense! He fastens the door with that big bar, and there it isstanding up by the side. "

"Yes, but there's another one outside somewhere, for I tried, and thedoor won't move. I think he's gone to tell somebody we are here, and hehas shut us up so that we sha'n't get away while he's gone. "

"No, no, " said Pen impatiently. "The old man means well to us; I amsure of that. "

"That's what I keep thinking, comrade; but then I keep thinking, too, that he's going to get something given him for taking two prisoners togive up to the French. "

"Nonsense! It is cowardly and ungenerous to think so. "

"Then what's he been gone such a long time for? It's hours since hewent away and shut us in. "

"Hours?"

"Yes; you don't know, because you sleep so much. "

"Well, I don't believe he'd betray us. The old man's too good andgenerous for that. "

"Then, why has he made prisoners of us?" said Punch sourly. "Why has heshut us up?"

"To keep anybody else from coming in, " said Pen decisively. "What timecan it be now?"

"Getting on towards sunset. Pst! Here he comes--or somebody else. "

All doubts as to who it was were put an end to the next minute, for thefamiliar step of the old priest approached the door. They plainly heardwhat seemed to be another bar removed, and the old man stood before themwith a big basket on his arm, and remained looking back as if to seewhether he had been followed. 

Then, apparently satisfied, he came in, closed the door, and smilinglyplaced the contents of the basket before them. 

He had evidently been some distance, and looked hot and weary; but hewas quite ready to listen to Pen's lame efforts to make known hisdesires that they should now say good-bye, and, with his help as todirection, continue their journey. 

The little man stood up smiling before Pen, listening patiently to thelad's blundering Latin, probably not understanding half, and onlyreplying with a word or two from time to time, these words from theirpronunciation puzzling Pen in turn; but it was evident to Punch, thelistener, that on the whole a mutual understanding was arrived at, forall at once the priest offered Pen his arm, and as the lad took it hehelped him to walk across the room and back to the pallet, where hepressed him back so that he sat down in spite of himself, when the oldman patted him on the shoulder, smiling gently, and then going down onone knee passed his hand softly over the wound, and, looking up, shookhis head sadly. 

"What does he mean by that, Punch?" said Pen excitedly, as he sat, looking pinched of face and half-wild with excitement. 

"It means, comrade, that you ain't fit to go on the march. That's whathe means; I can make him out. He is saying as you must give it up, andI don't think now as he means any harm. --I say, you don't, do you, oldchap?" he continued, turning sharply on the priest. 

It seemed as if their host comprehended the boy's words, for he pattedPunch on the shoulder, smiling, and pointed to the basket, which heopened and displayed its contents. 

Punch only caught a glimpse thereof; but he saw that there were breadand onions and goat's-milk cheese before he turned sharply round, startled by a quick tapping at the closed door. 

It was not only he who was startled, for the priest turned sharply andhurried to the door. 

"Oh, comrade, " cried Punch in an excited whisper, "don't say that he'sagainst us after all!"

But with the sturdy boy it was a word and a blow, for he made for hisloaded musket and caught it up. 

"Hist!" ejaculated the priest, turning upon him and raising one hand. 

"Oh, I don't care for that, " whispered Punch, "and I don't mind what youare. If you sold us to the enemy you shall have the first shot. "

The priest shook his hand at him as if to bid him be silent; and then, placing his lips close to the door, he said something in Spanish, andlistened to a reply that came in a hurried voice. 

"Ah!" ejaculated the priest; and then he whispered again. 

The next minute he was busy barring the closed door; and this done, heturned to the boys, to cross the room and open wide the cupboard-likedoor in the corner. Then, returning to Pen, he helped him to riseagain, guided his halting steps, and half-carrying him to the step-likeladder urged him with a word or two to climb up. 

"What does he mean, comrade?" whispered Punch. 

"He means there's somebody coming, and we are to go upstairs. "

"Let's stop here, comrade, and fight it out. "

"No, he means well, " replied Pen; and, making a brave effort, he beganto climb the ladder, pulling himself up, but panting heavily the whileand drawing his breath with pain. 

As soon as the old man saw that he was being obeyed he turned to Punch, caught up Pen's musket, and signed to the boy to follow him. 

"Well, you can't mean to give us up, " said Punch excitedly, "or youwouldn't want me to keep my gun and his. "

Disposition to resist passed away the next moment, for the old manpressed the second musket into his hand and urged him towards the door. 

"Can you get up, comrade?" whispered Punch, who was now all excitedaction. 

"Yes, " came in a hoarse whisper, and a loud creak came from the ceiling. 

"Ketch hold of these guns then. He wants me to bring theforage-basket. --Got 'em?" he continued, as he placed the two piecestogether and held them up against the ladder. 

"_Bonum_!" ejaculated the priest, who stood close up, as the two musketswere drawn upwards and disappeared. 

"Right, sir, " said Punch in answer, and he took hold of the basket, raised it above his head, took a step or two, then whispered, "Basket!Got it, comrade?"

"Yes, " And it was drawn up after the muskets, the boards overheadcreaking loudly the while. 

"Anything else, master?--What, take this 'ere jar of water? Right! Ofcourse! Here, comrade, you must look out now. Lean down and catch holdof the jar; and take care as you don't slop it over. "

"_Presto_!" whispered the priest. 

"Hi, presto!" muttered Punch. "That's what the conjuror said, " hecontinued to himself, "and it means, `Look sharp!' Got it, comrade?"

"Yes, " came in Pen's eager whisper. 

"Oh, I say, " muttered Punch, "I don't want my face washed!"

"_Bonum! Presto_!" whispered the priest, as Punch shrank back with hisface dripping; and, pressing the boy into the opening, he closed thedoor upon him and then hurried to the cottage entrance, took down thebar, throw the door wide, and then began slowly to strike a light, afterplacing a lamp upon the rough table. 

By this time Punch had reached the little loft-like chamber, where Penwas lying beside the water-vessel. 

"What game's this, comrade?" he whispered, breathless with hisexertions. 

"Hist! Hist!" came from below. 

"It's all very fine, " muttered Punch to himself; and he changed hisposition, with the result that the boards upon which he knelt creakedonce more. 

"Hist! Hist!" came again from below. 

"Oh, all right then. I hear you, " muttered the boy; and he cautiouslydrew himself to where he could place his eye to a large hole from whicha knot in the plank had fallen out, so that he could now see what wasgoing on below. 

"Here, this caps me, " he said to himself. "I don't want to think he's abad un, but he's took down the bar and shoved the door wide-open. Itdon't mean, do it, that he's sent for some one to come and take us? No, or he wouldn't have given us our guns. "

_Nick, nick, nick, nick_, went the flint against the steel; and the boywatched the sparks flying till one of them seemed to settle lightly inthe priest's tinder-box, and the next minute that single spark began toglow as the old man deliberately breathed upon it till the tinder grewplain before the watcher's eyes, and the shape of the old man's baldhead, with its roll of fat across the back of the neck, stood out like asilhouette. 

Then there was a rustling sound, and the boy saw the point of a matchapplied, and marked that that point was formed of pale yellow brimstone, which began to turn of a lambent blue as it melted and quivered, andanon grew a flame-colour as the burning mineral fired the match. 

A deep, heavy breath as of relief rose now through the floor as the oldman applied the burning match to the wick of his oil-lamp, and Punchdrew back from the knot-hole, for the loft was dimly lit up by the rayswhich came through the cracks of the badly laid floor, so that it seemedto him as if this could be no hiding-place, for any one in the roombelow must for certain be aware of the presence of any one in the loft. 

In spite of himself, Punch started and extended his hand to catch at hiscomrade's arm, for he could see him plainly, though dimly, lying withthe muskets on one side, the basket and jar of water upon the other, while half-behind him, where he himself lay, there was the blacktrap-like opening through which he had climbed. 

The boy's was a very slight movement, but it was sufficient to make aboard creak, and a warning "Hist!" came once more from below; while, ashe looked downward, the boy found that he could see what the old man wasdoing, as he drew his lamp across the rough table and bent over a littleopen book, while he began muttering softly, half-aloud, as he read fromhis Book of Hours. 

Punch softly pressed his comrade's arm, and then there was a slightmovement and the pressure was returned. 

"Wonder whether he can see too, " thought Punch; and then in spite ofhimself he started, and his breath seemed to come thick and short, forplainly from a short distance off came the unmistakable tramp ofmarching men. 

"Then he has sold us after all, " thought the boy, and by slow degrees hestrained himself over so that he could look through the knot-hole again. To his great surprise the priest had not stirred, but was bending overhis book, and his muttered words rose softly to the boy's ear, while theold man seemed to be in profound ignorance of the approaching steps. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

IN THE NIGHT. 

Nearer and nearer came the sound of marching, and it was all Punch coulddo to keep from rising to his knees and changing his position; but hemastered himself into a state of content by sending and receivingsignals with his companion, each giving and taking a long, firmpressure, as at last the invisible body of approaching men reached thecottage door, and an authoritative voice uttered the sharp command, "_Halte_!"

Punch's eye was now glued to the hole. He felt that if anybody lookedup he would be sure to see it glittering in the lamplight; but thefascination to learn what was to be their fate was too strong to beresisted. 

From his coign of vantage he could command the doorway and the legs of asmall detachment of men, two of whom separated themselves and came fullinto sight, one being an officer, from the sword he bore, the other arough, clumsy-looking peasant. And now for the first time the littlepriest appeared to be aware of the presence of strangers, for he slowlylowered the hand which held the book, raised his head, and seemed to belooking wonderingly at his visitors. 

"Ah!" he said, as if just awakened from his studies; and he uttered somewords, which sounded like a question, to the peasant, who made a roughobeisance and replied in apologetic tones, as if making an excuse forhis presence there. 

And now the officer uttered an impatient ejaculation and took anotherstep into the room, saying in French, "I am sorry to interrupt yourdevotions, father; but this fellow tells me that he saw a couple of ourEnglish prisoners take refuge here. "

"I do not speak French, my son, " replied the old man calmly. 

"Bah! I forgot, " ejaculated the officer; and then in a halting way hestumbled through the same sentence in a very bad translation as herendered it into Spanish. 

"Ah!" said the old man, rising slowly; and Punch saw him look as ifwonderingly at the rough peasant, who seemed to shrink back, half-startled, from the priest's stern gaze. 

There was a few moments' silence, during which the two fugitivesclutched each other's hands so tightly that Punch's nerves literallyquivered as he listened for the sharp cracking of the boards, which heseemed to know must betray them to their pursuers. 

But no sound came; and, as the perspiration stood out in big drops uponhis face in the close heat of the little loft, both he and his companioncould feel the horrible tickling sensation of the beads joining togetherand trickling down their necks. 

Then after what seemed to be quite an interval, the old man's voicearose in deep, stern tones, as he exclaimed, "What lie is this, my son, that you have uttered to these strangers?"

"I--I, father--" faltered the man, shrinking back a step and droppingthe soft cap he was turning in his hands upon the beaten floor, and thenstooping hastily to snatch it up again--"I--father--I--"

"I say, what lie is this you have told these strangers for the sake ofgaining a few accursed pieces of silver? Go, before I--Ah!" For therewas a quick movement on the part of the peasant, and he dashed out ofthe door. 

"_Halte_!" yelled the French officer, following the peasant outside; andthen, giving a sharp command, the scattered reports of some half-dozenmuskets rang out on the night-air, the two fugitives starting as at eachshot the flash of the musket lit up the loft where they lay. Then ashort question or two, and their replies came through the open doorway, and it became evident to the listeners that the peasant had escaped. 

"Bah!" ejaculated the officer, as Punch saw him stride through thedoorway into the room again. "Look here, father, " he said in his badSpanish, "I paid this scoundrel to guide me to the place where he saidtwo Englishmen were in hiding; but he did not tell me it was with hispriest. As he has brought us here I must search. "

"For the escaped prisoners?" the old man said, drawing himself up withdignity. "I do not speak your language, sir, but I think that is whatyou mean. Can you repeat your words in Latin? You might make yourwishes more plain. "

"Latin? No, I have forgotten all that, " said the officer impatiently inmore clumsy Spanish than before. "The English prisoners--my men mustsearch, " And the fugitives, unable though they were to comprehend thewords, naturally grasped their meaning and held their breath till theyfelt they must draw it again with a sound that would betray theirpresence. 

Then, with a slight laugh, the old priest laid his book upon the tableand took up the smoky oil-lamp. As he did so, Punch could see his faceplainly, for it was lit up by the lamp, and the boy could perceive themocking mirth in his eyes as he raised it above his head with his lefthand, and walked slowly towards the door which covered the ladder-likestaircase; and then as Punch felt that all was over, the old man slowlypassed the light across and moved to the rough fireplace, and so on allround the room, before raising the light above his head once more, andwith a comprehensive movement waving his right hand slowly round theplace as if to say, "You see there are no prisoners here. "

"Bah!" ejaculated the French officer, and, turning angrily, he marchedout through the open doorway. 

Punch was beginning to breathe again, but to his horror the officermarched back into the room, for he had recollected himself. He was theFrench gentleman still. 

"_Pardon, mon pere_!" he said sharply, keeping now to his own tongue. "_Bon soir_!"

Then, marching out again, he gave a short command, and, from wherePunch's eye was still glued to the opening, he saw the soldiers turnrightabout face, disappear through the open doorway, and then, _beat, beat, beat_, the sound of marching began again, this time to die slowlyaway, and he looked and listened till the pressure of Pen's hand uponhis arm grew almost painful. But he did not wince, till a movement onthe part of the priest drew his attention to what was passing beneath;and he saw him set down the lamp and cross to the door, which he closedand barred, and then dropped upon his knees, as his head sank down uponhis clasped-together hands. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

CONTRABANDISTAS. 

"Think they have gone, comrade?" whispered Punch, after they hadlistened for some minutes, and the tramp of the French soldiers hadquite died away. 

"Yes; but speak low. He will come and tell us when he thinks it issafe. "

"All right, I'll whisper; but I must talk. I can't bear it any longer, I do feel so savage with myself. "

"Why, what about?"

"To think about that old chap. I wanted to trust him, but I kept onfeeling that he was going to sell us; and all the time he's been doingeverything he could for us. But, I say, it was comic to see himcarrying you. Here, I mustn't talk about it, or I shall be bursting outlaughing. "

"Hush! Don't!" whispered Pen. 

"All right. But, I say, don't you think we might have a go at the prog?There's all sorts of good things in that basket; and I want a drink ofwater too. But you needn't have poured a lot of it down my back. Iknow you couldn't help it, but it was horrid wet all the same. "

"Don't touch anything, Punch; and be quiet. He will be coming up soon, I dare say. "

"Wish he'd come, then, " said the boy wearily. "I say, how's your leg?"

"Hurts, " said Pen curtly. 

"Poor old chap! Can't you turn yourself round?"

"No. It's worse when I try to move it. "

"That's bad; but, I say, you see now we couldn't have gone away unless Icarried you. "

"But it seems so unfair to be staying here, " said Pen bitterly. "Ibelieve now I could limp along very slowly. "

"I don't, " said Punch. "You see, those Frenchies have made up theirminds to catch us, and I believe if they caught sight of us creepingalong now they would let go at us again; and as we have had a bulletapiece, we don't want any more. "

"Hist!" whispered Pen; "they think we are here still, and they arecoming back. "

"Nonsense! Fancy!"

"Listen. "

"Oh, murder!" whispered Punch. "This is hard!" For he could distinctlyhear hurried steps approaching the cottage, and he placed his eye to theknot-hole again to see what effect it was having upon the old man. Buthe was so still as he crouched there in the lamplight that it seemed asif he had dropped asleep, worn out by his efforts, till all at once thefootsteps ceased and there was a sharp tapping on the door, given in apeculiar way, first a rap, then a pause, then two raps close together, another pause, and then _rap, rap, rap_, quickly. 

The old man sprang to his feet, unbarred the door, and seized it tothrow it open. 

"It's all over, comrade, " whispered Punch. "Well, let's fill ourpockets with the prog. I don't want to starve any more. "

He placed his eye to the knot-hole again, and then turned his head towhisper to his companion. 

"'Tain't the Frenchmen, " he said. "It's one of the Spanish chaps with ared handkercher tied round his head, and him and the old priest isfriends, for they are a hugging one another. This chap has got a shortgun, and now he's lighting a cigarette at the lamp. Can you hear me?"

"Yes; go on. "

"There's four more of them outside the door, and they have all got shortguns. One of them's holding one of them horse-donkeys. Oh, I say, comrade!" continued the boy, as a quick whispering went on and thearomatic, pungent odour of tobacco floated up between the boards. 

"What is it, Punch? Oh, go on--tell me! You can see, and I'm lyinghere on my back and can make out nothing. What does it all mean?"

"Well, I don't like to tell you, comrade?" whispered the boy huskily. 

"Oh yes; tell me. I can bear it. "

"Well, it seems to me, comrade, as we have got out of the frying-paninto the fire. "

"Why, what do you mean?"

"That we thought the old chap was going to sell us to the French whenall the time it was to some of those Spanish thieves, and it's them ashas come now to take us away. --Here, wait a minute. "

"I can't, Punch. I can't bear it. "

"I'm afraid you will have to, comrade--both on us--like Englishmen. Butif we are to be shot for furriners I should like it to have been assoldiers, and by soldiers who know how to use their guns, and not bySpanish what-do-you-call-'ems--robbers and thieves--with little shortblunderbusters. "

There was a few moments' pause, during which hurried talking went on. Then a couple more fierce-looking Spaniards came in, saluted the priest, lit cigarettes at the lamp, and propped the short carbines they carriedagainst the cottage-wall before joining in the conversation. 

"What are they doing now, Punch?"

"Talking about shooting or something, " whispered the boy, "and that oldruffian's laughing and pointing up at the ceiling to tell them he hasgot us safe. Oh, murder in Irish!" continued the boy. "He's took upthe lamp and he's showing them the way. Here, Private Gray, try andpull yourself together and let's make a fight for it, if we only have ashot apiece. They are coming up to fetch us now. "

Pen stretched out his hand in the dim loft to seize his musket, but hecould not reach it, while in his excitement the boy did not notice hiscomrade's helplessness, but seized his own weapon and stood up ready asthe light and shadows danced in the gloomy loft, and prepared to givethe armed strangers a warm reception. 

And now the door at the foot of the ladder creaked and the light of thelamp struck up as the old man began to ascend the few steps till hecould reach up, thrusting the lamp he carried before him, and placing itupon the floor, pushing it farther along towards the two boys; and then, drawing himself up, he lifted the light and held it so that those whofollowed him could see their way. 

At that moment he caught sight of Punch's attitude, and a smile brokeout across his face. 

"No, no!" he said eagerly. "_Amigos! Contrabandistas_. "

"What does he mean by that, Pen?"

"That they are friends. "

And the head of the first friend now appeared above the trap in theshape of the first-comer, a handsome, swarthy-looking Spaniard, whosedark eyes flashed as his face was lit up by the priest's lamp, whichshot the scarlet silk handkerchief about his head with hues of orange. 

"_Buenos Ingles, amigos_, " he cried, as he noted the presented musket;and then volubly he asked if either of them spoke French. 

"Yes, " cried Pen eagerly; and the rest was easy, for the man went on inthat tongue:

"My friend the priest tells me that you have had a narrow escape fromthe French soldiers who had shot you down. But you are safe now. Weare friends to the English. Do you want to join your people?"

"Yes, yes, " cried Pen eagerly. "Can you help us? Are any of ourregiments near?"

"Not very, " replied the Spanish smuggler, "for the French are holdingnearly all the passes; but we will help you and get you up into themountains, where you will be safe with us. But our good friend the_padre_ tells me that one of you is badly hurt, and he wants me to lookat your wound. "

"Oh, it's not very bad, " said Pen warmly. 

"Ah, I must see, " said the man, who had seated himself at the edge ofthe opening up which he had come, and proceeded to light a freshcigarette. 

The next moment, as he began puffing away, he seemed to recollecthimself, and drew out a cigar, which he offered with a polite gesture tothe old priest. 

The old man set down the lamp which he had held for his visitor to lighthis cigarette, and smiled as he shook his head. Then, thrusting a handinto his gown, he took out his snuff-box, made the lid squeak loudly, and proceeded to help himself to a bounteous pinch. 

"It is you who have the wound, " continued the smuggler. "You are, Isuppose, an officer and a gentleman?"

"No, " said Pen, "only a common English soldier. "

"But you speak French like a gentleman. Ah, well, no matter. You arewounded--fighting for my country against the brigand French, and we arefriends and brothers. I have had many a fight with them, my friend, andI know what their bullets do, so that I perhaps can dress your woundbetter than the _padre_--brave old man! He can cure our souls--eh, father?" he added, in Spanish--"but I can cure bodies better than he, sometimes, when the French bullets have not been too bad. --Now, father, "he added, "hold the lamp and let us see. "

The priest nodded as he took up the lamp again in answer to the requestmade to him in his own tongue; and he now spoke a few words to thesmuggler which resulted in the picturesque-looking man shaking his head. 

"The good father, " he said to Pen, "asks me if I think the Frenchsoldiers will come back; but I think not. If they do we shall havewarning from my men, who are watching them, for we are expecting friendsto meet us here--friends who may come to-night, perhaps many nightshence--for us to guide them through the passes. "

Then, drawing up his legs, he stepped into the loft and called down thestairway to the men below. 

There was a short reply, and steps were heard as if the two men hadstepped out into the open. 

"Now, my friend, " said the smuggler, as he went down on one knee andleaned over Pen, whose hand he took, afterwards feeling his temples andlooking keenly into his eyes as the priest threw the light full in thewounded lad's face. 

"Why, " he said, "you are suffering from something else besides yourwound. My men will bring some wine. I see you have water here. Youare faint. There, let me place you more comfortably. --That's better. I'll see to your wound soon. --And you, my friend, " he continued, turningto Punch, who started and shook his head. 

"No parly Frenchy, " he said. 

"Never mind, " continued the smuggler. "Your friend can. --Tell him toeat some of the bread and fruit, and I will give him some of our grapemedicine as soon as my men bring the skin. --A good hearty draught woulddo you good too, father, " he added, turning to the old man and layinghis hand with an affectionate gesture upon the priest's arm. "You havebeen working too hard, and must have had quite a scare. I am very gladwe have come. "

A deep-toned voice came now from the room below, the smuggler replied, and there was a sound of ascending steps; then another of the smugglersappeared at the opening in the floor, thrusting something so peculiarand strange through the aperture that, as it subsided upon the edge inthe full light cast by the smoky lamp, Punch whispered:

"Why, it's a raw kid, comrade, and I don't believe it's dead!"

Pen laughed, and Punch's eyes dilated as he saw the smuggler, who wasstanding with his head and shoulders in the opening, take what lookedlike a drinking-horn from his breast and place it upon the floor; andthen it seemed to the boy that he untied a thong that was about one ofthe kid's legs, and the next moment it appeared as if the animal hadbegun to bleed, its vital juice trickling softly into the horn cup, forit was his first acquaintance with a skin of rich Spanish wine. 

"There, my friend, " said the smuggler, taking up the half-filled cup, "they say this is bad for fever, but I never knew it do harm to a manwhose lifeblood had been drained. Drink: it will put some spirit in youbefore I perhaps put you to a good deal of pain. " And the next momenthe was holding the wine-cup to the wounded lad's lips. 

"There, " said the smuggler at last, as he finished his self-imposedtask, "I think you have borne it bravely. "

"Oh, nonsense, " said Pen quietly. "Surely a soldier should be able tobear a little pain. "

"I suppose so, " said his new surgeon; "but I am afraid that some of mycountrymen would have shouted aloud at what I have done to you. I knowsome of my men have when I have tied them up after they have beenunlucky enough to get one of the French Guards' bullets in them. Therenow, the best thing you can do is to go to sleep;" and, havingimprovised a pillow for him with one of his follower's cloaks, theSpaniard descended to the priest's room, where several of his men wereassembled; and after the priest had seen that Punch had been suppliedfrom the basket, he followed his friend to where the men were gathered, leaving the boys in the semi-darkness, for he took down the lamp, whoserays once more shone up through the knot-hole and between theill-fitting boards. 

"Feel better, comrade?" asked Punch. But there was no reply. "I say, you aren't gone to sleep already, are you?"

Still no answer, and, creeping closer, Punch passed his hand gently overPen's arm and touched his face; but this evoked no movement, only thedrawing and expiration of a deep breath which came warmly to the boy'shand as he whispered:

"Well, he must be better or he wouldn't have gone to sleep like that. Don't think I could. And, my word, that chap did serve him out!"

The low sound of voices from below now attracted the boy's attention;and, turning to the knot-hole, he looked down into the priest's room tosee that it was nearly full of the dark, fierce-looking Spaniards, whowere listening to the old padre, whose face shone with animation, lit upas it was by the lamp, while he talked earnestly to those who bentforward to listen to his words. 

It was a picturesque scene, for the moon was now shining brightly, itsrays striking in through the open door and throwing up the figures ofseveral of the _contrabandistas_ for whom there was no room within thecottage, but who pressed forward as if to listen to the priest's words. 

"Why, he must be preaching to them, " said Punch to himself at last, "butI can't understand a word. This Spanish seems queer stuff. What does_el rey_ mean, I wonder. Dunno, " he muttered, as he yawned drowsily. "Seems queer that eating and drinking should make you sleepy. Well, Iain't obliged to listen to what that old fellow says. Wonder whetherPrivate Gray knows what _el rey_ means? Better not ask him, though, nowhe's asleep. Phew! It is hot up here! _Buzz, buzz, buzz_! What is hetalking about? Seems to make me sleepier to listen to him. --I say, notawake, are you, comrade?"

There was no reply, and soon after Punch's heavy breathing was heard inaddition to the low murmur of the priest's voice, for the boy too, wornout with what he had gone through during the past hours, was fastasleep. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

THE NEW FRIEND. 

Punch woke up with a start to find that it was broad daylight, for thesun was up, the goats on the valley-side were bleating, and a loudmusical bell was giving forth its constantly iterated sounds. 

Punch looked down the knot-hole through which the bright morning rayswere streaming up as well as between the ill-fitting boards; but as faras he could make out there was no one below, and he remained peeringdown for some minutes, recalling all that had taken place overnight, till, turning slightly, he caught sight of the basket of provisions. 

"It makes one feel hungry again, " muttered the boy, and his hand wasstretched out to draw the basket to his side. "No, no, " he continued, pulling back his hand; "let's have fair-play. --Awake, comrade?--Fastasleep. That looks well. My word, how I slept after that supper! Wishhe would wake up, though. Be no harm in filling up with water, " And, creeping softly to where the jar had been placed for safety, he took along, deep draught. "Ah!" he ejaculated, "that will keep the hungriesquiet for a bit;" and then he chuckled to himself as his eye wanderedabout the loft, and he noted how the priest used it for a storeroom, oneof his chief stores being onions. "And so the French are holding thecountry everywhere, are they? And we are to lie snug here for a bit, and then that Spanish chap is going to show us the way to get to ourregiment again. Well, we have tumbled among friends at last; but I hopewe sha'n't have to lie here till all the fighting's done, for my comradeand me owe the Frenchies something, and we should both like to get achance to pay it. --Here, I say, Private Gray, you might wake up now. Water's only water, after all, and I want my breakfast. I shouldn'tmind if there was none, but it's aggravating to your inside to see itlying there. --Hallo! There's somebody coming, " for he heard voices fromsomewhere outside. "That's the old father, " muttered the boy. "Yes, and that's that big Spanish chap. Didn't he look fine with his silkhandkercher round his head and his pistols in his scarf? I suppose he'scaptain of the band. What did Gray say they were--smugglers? Why, theycouldn't be. Smugglers have vessels by the seaside. I do know that. There's no seaside here up in the mountains. What have they got tosmuggle?"

"Punch, you there?" came in a sharp whisper. 

"Yes, " whispered back the boy. "All right. Wake up. Here's yourdoctor coming to see to your wound. "

The next minute the voices sounded from the room below, and thesmuggler's voice was raised and he called up in French:

"Are you awake there, my friends?" And upon receiving an answer in theaffirmative he began to ascend the step-ladder cautiously, andapparently quite at home. As soon as he stood stooping in the loft hedrew back a rough shutter and admitted a little of the sunshine. 

"Good-morning!" he said. "How's the wound? Kept you awake all night?"

Pen explained that he had only just woke up. 

"Well, that means you are getting better, " said the smuggler; and theboys scanned the speaker's handsome, manly-looking face. 

Just then fresh steps were heard upon the ladder, and thepleasant-countenanced priest appeared, carefully bearing a large bowl ofwater, and with a long strip of coarse linen hanging over his arm. 

He smilingly nodded at the two lads, and then knelt by the side of thebowl and watched attentively while Pen's wound was dressed and carefullybandaged with the coarse strip of linen, after which a few words passedin Spanish between the priest and the smuggler, who directly afteraddressed Pen. 

"He was asking me about getting you down to breakfast, but I tell himthat you will be better if you lie quite still for a bit, perhaps for afew days, I don't think the French will come here again. They are morelikely to forget all about you, for they are always on the move; but youcould do no good if you came down, and I shall not stir for some daysyet, unless my friends come, and I don't expect they will. It would betoo risky. So you lie here patiently and give your wound a chance toget well before I try to take you through the pass. Besides, yourfriends are a long way off, and they will be sure to come nearer beforelong. You can make yourself very comfortable here, can't you, and eatand drink and sleep?"

"But it is not fair to the father, " said Pen, "and we have no money topay him for our lodging. "

"You Englishmen are brave fellows, " said the smuggler with a merrylaugh. "You like to pay your way, while those French thieves plunderand steal and ill-use every one they come near. Don't you make yourselfuncomfortable about that, my lad. As you hinted just now, the holyfather is poor, and it may seem to you hard that you should live uponhim; but you English are our friends, and so is the father. Makeyourselves quite comfortable. You are very welcome, and we are glad tohave you as our guests. --Eh, _padre mio_!" he continued, relapsing intohis own tongue. "They are quite welcome, are they not?"

The priest nodded and smiled as he bent down and patted both the lads onthe shoulder, Punch contenting himself with what he did not understand, for it seemed very friendly, while Pen took the hand that rested on hisshoulder and raised it to his lips. 

Then the old man slowly descended, and the smuggler turned and continuedtalking pleasantly to Pen. 

"I have told him, " he said, "that I am going to have breakfast with youhere, as my men have gone up to the mountains with the mules, and Idon't want to show myself and get a shot sent after me, for some of theFrenchmen are down in the village still. Be quiet for a day or two, andif my friends come before you are able to march we will get you on oneof my mules. Hallo!" he added, "the father's making a fire to cook ussome breakfast. I shouldn't wonder if he bakes us a cake and makes us acup of good fragrant coffee. He generally contents himself with breadand herbs and a glass of water; but he knows my weaknesses--and I knowhis, " added the smuggler, laughing. "He never objects to a glass ofgood wine. "

The smuggler's surmises were right, for before very long the old manpaid several visits to the loft, and ended by seating himself with theothers and partaking of a roughly prepared but excellent breakfast, which included newly made cake, fried bacon and eggs, with a capitalbowl of coffee and goat's-milk. 

"Well, my friend, " said the smuggler, turning to Punch, "have you made agood meal?"

Punch looked uncomfortable, gave his head a scratch, and frowned. 

"Tell him, comrade, I can't jabber French, " he said. 

"He asks if you have made a good breakfast, Punch. "

"Tell him it's splendid. "

The wounded lad interpreted between them; while the smuggler nowaddressed himself to his patient. 

"And you?" he said. "I suppose I may tell the father that his breakfastwas capital, and that you can make yourself happy here till you getbetter?"

"Yes; and tell him, please, that our only regret is that we cannot showour gratitude more. "

"Tut, tut! There is no need. The father has helped you because you arebrave young Englishmen who are over here risking your lives for ourcountrymen in trying to drive out the French invaders who have come downlike a swarm of locusts upon our land. You understand very well, Isuppose, "--continued the Spaniard, rolling up a cigarette and offeringit to Pen, who took it and waited while the smuggler rolled up anotherfor Punch and again another for himself before turning and taking asmouldering brand of wood from the priest, who had fetched it from thehearth below--"you understand very well why the French are here?"

"Not very well, " said Pen. "I am an English soldier here with my peopleto fight against the French, who have placed a French king in yourcountry. "

"Yes, " said the Spaniard, frowning, as he sent a curl of fragrant smokeeddying towards the shutter-opening in the sloping roof, where as itrose soft and grey it began to glow with gold as it reached the sunshinethat streamed across the little square; "they have thrust upon usanother of the usurper's kin, and this Napoleon has imprisoned ourlawful ruler in Valencay. "

"I didn't know all this, " replied Pen; "but I like to hear. "

"Good!" said the smuggler, nodding and speaking eagerly. "And you arean Englishman and fighting on our side. I know all this, and that yourWellesley is a brave general who is only waiting his time to sweep ourenemies back to their own country. You are a friend who has suffered inour cause, and I can confide in you. You will be glad to hear that theprisoner has escaped. "

"Yes, " said Pen, forgetting the pain of his wound for the time in theinterest of what he heard, while Punch yawned and did not seem happywith his cigarette. "But what prisoner?"

"The King, Ferdinand. "

Pen had never heard of any Ferdinand except one that he had read of inShakespeare; but he said softly, "I am glad. "

"Yes, " said the smuggler, "and I and my friends are glad--glad that, poor smugglers though we are, and no soldiers, we can be of service tohis Majesty. He has escaped from the French prison and is on his way tothe Pyrenees, where we can help him onward to Madrid. For we as_contrabandistas_ know all the passes through the frontier; and I and myfollowers are waiting till he reaches the appointed spot, where some ofour brothers will bring him on to meet us, who will be ready to guidehim and his friends farther on their way to the capital, or place themin safety in one of our hiding-places, our stores, of which we have manyhere in the mountains. He is long in coming, but he is on his way, andthe last news I heard is that he is hidden by my friends at one of our_caches_ a score or so of leagues away. He may be here to-night if thepass seems clear. It may be many nights; but he will come, and if theFrench arrive--well, they will have to fight, " said the smuggler, with asmile; and he lightly tapped the butt of one of his pistols. "It ishard for a king to have to steal away and hide; but every league hepasses through the mountains here he will find more friends; and weshall try, some of us, to guide your English generals to where they canstrike at our French foes. Yes, my young friend, " continued thecaptain, rolling up a fresh cigarette, "and we shall serve our King wellin all this, and if some of us fall--well, it will be in a good cause, and better than spending our lives in carrying smuggled goods--silks andlaces, _eau de vie_, cigars and tobacco duty free across these hills. There, we are _contrabandistas_, and we are used to risking our lives, for on either side of the mountains the Governments shoot us down. Butwe are patriots all the same, and we are risking our lives for our Kingjust as if we were of the best. So get well, you two brave soldierlads. I see you have your guns, and maybe, as we have helped you, wemay ask you to help us. You need not mind, for you will be fightingagainst your enemies the French. Come, light up your cigarette again. You must be tired of my long story. "

"Tired! No, " said Pen. "I am glad to hear it, for I have often thoughtand wondered why we English had come here to fight, and all I knew wasthat Napoleon was conquering everywhere and trying to master the world. "

"Which he will never do, " said the smuggler, laughing. "Strong as heis, and masterful, he will never succeed, and you know why?"

"No, I can't say that, " replied Pen, wincing. 

"Then I will tell you. Because the more he conquers the more enemies hemakes, and nowhere friends. There, you are growing weary. "

"Oh no, " cried Pen. "I shrank because I felt my wound a little more. Iam glad to hear all this. "

"But your friend--no?" said the _contrabandista_. 

"That's because he cannot understand what you say; but I shall tell himall that you have said when we are alone, and then he will be as muchyour friend as I am, and quite as ready to fight in your cause, thoughhe is a boy. "

"Good!" said the Spaniard. "And some day I shall put you both to theproof. "

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

PUNCH PROVES STURDY. 

"Thank you, " said Punch. "I didn't want to bother you, you know, comrade, only you see I ain't like you--I don't know a dozen languages, French and Latin, and all the rest of them; and when you get on talkingto that _contrabando_ chap it worries me. Seems as if you are sayingall sorts of things about me. He will keep looking at me all the timehe's talking. I've got to know a bit now that it's meant for you, buthe will keep fixing his eyes like a pair of gimlets, and screwing theminto me; and then he goes on talking, and it makes you feeluncomfortable like. Now, you see, there was the other day, a week--no, it was nine days--ago, when you said when he was telling you all aboutthe Spanish King coming here--"

"Nine days ago, Punch! Nonsense! We can't have been here nine days. "

"Oh yes, we can. It's ten, because there was the day before, when hecame first and doctored your leg. "

"Well, you seem very sure about it; but I think you are wrong. "

"I ain't, " said Punch sturdily. "Lookye here, " and he thrust his handinto his pocket and brought it out again full of little pebbles. 

"Well, what have they got to do with it?"

"Everything. I puts a fresh one into my pocket every day we stops. "

"What for?"

"To count up with. Each of those means two shillings that we owe theold gentleman for our prog. Knowing what a gentleman you are in yourideas, I says to myself you will want to pay him some day--a shillingapiece a day; that's what I put it at, and that means we owe him apound; and if we are going to stop here much longer I must try anotherdodge, especially if we are going on the march, for I don't want to gotramping along with half a hundredweight of stones in my pocket. "

"You're a rum fellow, Punch, " said Pen, smiling. 

"That's what my mother used to say; and I am glad of it. It does afellow good to see you burst out laughing. Why, I haven't seen you grinlike that not since the day when I went down with the bullet in my back. Here, I know what I'll do. I'll chuck all these stones, and make ascratch for every day on the stock of my musket. 'Tain't as if it was aBri'sh rifle and the sergeant coming round and giving you hooroar fornot keeping your arms in order. That would be a good way, wouldn't it, because the musket-stock wouldn't weigh any heavier when you had donethan when you had begun. "

"Well, are you satisfied now, Punch, that he isn't talking about you?"

"Well, you say he ain't, and that's enough; but I want to know, all thesame, why that there Spanish King don't come. "

"So does he. You saw how earnest he was yesterday when he came andtalked to me, after seeing to my leg, and telling me that he shouldn'tdo any more to it. "

"Telled you that, did he? I am glad. And that means it's nearly well. "

"It means it's so far well that I am to exercise it all I can. "

"Glad of it. But you ought to have telled me. That is good news. Buthow are you going to exercise it if we are under orders not to gooutside this place for fear of the people seeing us and splitting uponthe father?"

"Yes, that is awkward, Punch. "

"Awkward! I call it more than awkward, for we did nearly get the poorold chap into a bad scrape that first night. Tell you what, though. You ask Mr Contrabando to come some night and show us the way. "

"Show us the way where?"

"Anywhere. Up into the passes, as he calls them, right up in themountains, so that we shall know which way to go when we want to jointhe Bri'sh army. "

"It would be hardly fair to him, Punch, " said Pen. 

"Never mind that. It would be fair to us, and it would be exercisingyour leg. Pretty muddle we should be in when the order comes to marchand your poor old leg won't go. "

"Ah, well, we shall see, Punch, " said Pen. 

"Ah, I would; and soon. It strikes me sometimes that he's gettingrather tired of his job, him and all his chaps too. I've watched themwhen they come here of an evening to ask questions of the father and laytheir heads together; and I can't understand their jibber-jabber, butit's plain enough to see that they are grumpy and don't like it, and theway they goes on screwing up those bits of paper and lighting up andsmoking away is enough to make you ill to watch them. 'Tain't as ifthey were good honest pipes. Why, they must smoke as much paper as theydo 'bacco. Think their captain is going to give it up as a bad job?"

"No, Punch. "

"Well, anyhow, I think you might ask him to take us out with him a bit. If you don't like to do it on account of yourself, because, as you say, he might think it ungrateful, you put it all on to me. Look here. Yousays, if you can put it into French, as you wouldn't mind it a bit. Yousays as it's your comrade as wants to stretch his legs awful bad. Yes, and you tell him this too, that I keeps on worrying you about havingpins and needles in my back. "

"Stuff, Punch!"

"That it ain't, honour bright. It's lying on my back so much up therein that there cock-loft. It all goes dead-like where the bullet wentin. It's just as if it lay there still, and swelled up nearly as big asa cannon ball, and that lump goes all dead and dumb in needles and pinslike for ever so long. There, you try it on him that way. You say I'mso sick of it as never was. "

"And it was only yesterday, Punch, you told me that you were thoroughlyhappy and contented here, and the country was so beautiful and we wereliving so well that you didn't mind if we stayed here for months. "

"'Twaren't yesterday. It was the day before the day before that. Youhave got all the time mixed up. I don't know where you would have beenif I hadn't counted up. "

"Well, never mind when it was. You can't deny that you said somethinglike that. "

"Ah, but I wasn't so tired then. I am all right again now, and so areyou, and I want to be at it. Who's going to be contented shut-up herelike a prisoner?"

"Not bad sort of imprisonment, Punch. "

"Oh no, that's all right enough, comrade; but I want to get back to ourchaps. They'll be crossing us off as killed and wounded, and yourpeople at home will be thinking you are dead. I want to get back to thefighting again. Why, if we go on like this, one of these days they willbe sarving out the promotions, and then where do we come in? I say, thecaptain didn't come to see us last week. Think he will to-night?"

"I hope so, and bring us news. "

"So do I. But isn't it about time that Mr Padre came back?"

"Must be very near, " said Pen. 

"Quite, " said Punch. "He gets all the fun, going out for his walks, a-roving up and down amongst the trees with his book in his hand. Here, if he don't volunteer to take us for a walk--something more than a bitof a tramp up and down in the darkness--I shall vote that we run away. There, if you don't talk to him I shall. "

"Don't, Punch. "

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want us to seem ungrateful. "

"Oh, all right then. --I say, here he comes!" cried Punch the nextminute; and the old man trudged up to the door with the basket he hadtaken away empty evidently well-filled again. 

The priest looked tired as he came in, and according to his customlooked questioningly at the boys, who could only respond with a shake ofthe head; and this made the old man sigh. 

"_Paz_!" he said sadly; and, smiling cheerfully, he displayed thecontents of his basket, stored the provisions he had brought in, andthen according to his wont proceeded to set out the evening meal up inthe loft. 

This meal seemed to have lost its zest to the weary fugitives, and quitelate in the evening, when the lads, after sitting talking together inwhispers so as not to awaken the priest, who, evidently tired out by hisafternoon expedition, had lain down upon the pallet and was sleepingheavily, were about to follow his example for want of something betterto do, he suddenly sprang up, ascended to the loft, and told Punch thathe was going out again on the watch to see if the friends expected werecoming along the pass, and ended by telling them that they had betterlie down to rest. 

"That's settled it for me, " said Punch, as the old man went out andclosed the door. "I can't sleep now. I want to follow him and stretchmy legs. "

"But you can't do that, Punch. "

"Ho! Couldn't I? Why, I could set off and run like I haven't donesince I was shot down. "

"But you can't, Punch, " said Pen gravely. "It's quite possible that thecaptain may come and ask where the father is. I think we ought tostay. "

"Oh, very well, then, we will stop; but I don't call this half living. I want to go and attack somebody or have them attack us. Why, it's likebeing dead, going on this round--yes, dead, and just as if they hadforgot to bury us because they've got too much to do. Are you going tolie down to sleep?"

"No, " said Pen, "I feel as wakeful as you are. "

"I say, look at that now! Of course we can't go to sleep. Well, wemight have a walk up and down outside in the dark. No one could see us, and it would make us sleepy again. "

"Very well; only we mustn't go out of sight of the door, in case thecaptain should come. "

"Yah! He won't come, " grumbled Punch; and he descended to the lowerroom, scraped the faintly glowing wood-ashes together, and then went tothe door, peered out, and listened, and afterwards, followed by hiscomrade, he began to tramp up and down the shelf-like ledge upon whichthe priest's cottage was built. 

It was very dark, for the sky was so overcast that not a star wasvisible; and, as if feeling depressed by the silence, neither wasdisposed for talk, and the consequence was that at the end of about halfan hour Pen caught his companion by the arm and stopped short. Hisreason was plain enough, for Punch uttered a faint "Hist!" and led theway to the cottage door, where they both stopped and listened to a soundwhich had grown plainer--that of steps coming swiftly towards them. They hardly had time to softly close the door and climb up to the loftbefore the door was thrown open, there was a quick step below, and asoft whistle which they well knew now was uttered at the foot of thesteps. 

Pen replied in the way he had learned, and directly after came thequestion, "Where's the father?"

"He went out an hour ago, " Pen replied. 

"Which way?"

"By the upper pass, " replied Pen. 

There was a sharp ejaculation, expressive of impatience, the stepscrossed the room again, the door creaked as it was shut to, and then thesteps died away. 

"There, Punch, you see I was right, " said Pen. 

"Who's to see anybody's right when it's as black as your hat?" repliedthe boy impatiently. 

"Well, I think it's right if you don't. What shall we do--go to sleepnow?"

"Go to sleep?" growled the boy irritably. "Go to wake you mean! I tellyou what I am just fit for. "

"Well, what?" said Pen good-humouredly. 

"Sentry-go. No fear of anybody catching me asleep who came on hisrounds. I used to think that was the very worst part of being asoldier, but I could just enjoy it now. 'Tis miserable work, though, isn't it?"

"No, " replied Pen thoughtfully. 

"But you get very sleepy over it, don't you?"

"I never did, " said Pen gravely, as they both settled themselves uponthe floor of the loft, and the bundles of straw and dried-fern litterwhich the priest had added for their comfort rustled loudly while theyplaced themselves in restful postures. "I used to find it a capitaltime to think, Punch. "

"What about?"

"The old days when I was a boy at school, and the troubles I had had. Then I used to question myself. "

"How did you do that?"

"How did I do that? Why, I used to ask myself questions as to whether Ihadn't done a very foolish thing in enlisting for a soldier. "

"And then of course you used to say no, " cried Punch. "Anybody couldanswer that question. Why didn't you ask yourself some good toughquestions that you couldn't answer--regular puzzlers?"

"I always found that puzzle enough, Punch, " said Pen gravely; "and Ihave never been able to answer it yet. "

"Well, that's a rum un, " said Punch, with a sort of laugh. "You haveoften called me a queer fellow. You do puzzle me. Why, of course youdid right. You are not down-hearted because we have had a bit of aventure or two? It's all experience, and you like it as much as I do, even if I do grumble a bit sometimes because it's so dull. Something'ssure to turn up before long, and--What did you do that for?"

"Pst!" whispered Pen; and Punch was silence itself, for he too caughtthe hurrying of many feet, and low voices in eager converse comingnearer and nearer; and the next minute there was the heavy thump as of afist upon the door, which was thrust open so roughly that it bangedagainst the wall. 

And then midst the sounds of heavy breathing and the scuffling of feetas of men bearing in a heavy burden, the room below seemed to be rapidlyfilling up, and the door was closed and barred. 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

THE ROYAL VISITOR. 

The two lads grasped hands as they listened in the intense darkness towhat seemed to be a scene of extreme excitement, the actors in it havingevidently been hurrying to reach the cottage, which they had gained in astate of exhaustion; for those who spoke gave utterance to their wordsas if panting and breathless with their exertions, while from theirwhispering it seemed evident that they were afraid of being overheard. 

The two listeners dared not stir, for the least movement would havebetrayed them to those below, and before many minutes had elapsed theyfelt certain that the present invaders of the cottage were strangers. 

All at once some one gave vent to a piteous sigh and an ejaculation ortwo as if of pain; and this was followed by what sounded to be wordsthat were full of pity and compassion, mingled with great deference, towards the sufferer. 

Pen could make out nothing more in the hurried and whisperedconversation than that it was in Spanish, and for the time being he feltsomewhat dazed as to who the new-comers were. He was too much startledto try and puzzle out matters calmly, and for a while he devoted himselfto the preservation of utter silence. 

At last, though, a few more utterances below, spoken in a deferentialtone, followed by a sharp, angry command or two, sent a flash throughhis brain, and he pressed Punch's arm with greater energy in an effortto try and convey to his companion the thought that he knew who thefresh-comers must be. 

"If they would only strike a light, " he thought to himself, "I might geta peep through the knot-hole"--which was always carefully kept clear forinspection of what took place below--"and I could see then at a glancewhether this was the expected King with his followers. "

But the darkness remained profound. 

"If it is the escaped Spanish King, " he said to himself, "it will beplain to see. It must be, and they have been pursued by the French, orthey wouldn't be afraid to speak aloud. "

Then he began to doubt again, for the Spanish King and his followers, who needed a guide to lead them through the intricate passes of themountains, would not have known their way to the cottage. 

"Nonsense!" he thought to himself, as fresh doubts arose. "The oldpriest or the captain must have met them and brought them here. "

Then all was silent for a time, till it was evident that some one wasmoving by the fireplace; and then there was the sound of some oneblowing. 

This was followed by a faint glow of light; the blowing sound increased, and it was evident that the wood-ashes possessed sufficient life to befanned into flame, which increased as the embers were evidently beingdrawn together by a piece of metal; and before another minute hadelapsed Pen made out through the knot-hole that the instrument used forreviving the fire was the blade of a sword. 

Then some one sighed deeply and uttered a few words in an imperious tonewhose effect was to set some one fanning the fire with more energy, whenthe cracks in the boarded floor began to show, and the watcher abovebegan to get glimpses of those below him. 

A few minutes later the embers began to crackle, the members of theparty below grew more visible, and some one uttered a few words in aneager tone--words which evoked an ejaculation or two of satisfaction, followed by an eager conversation that sounded like a dispute. 

This was followed by an angry, imperious command, and this again by whatsounded to Pen like a word or two of protest. Then the sharp, commanding voice beat down the respectful objection, one of the flamingbrands seemed to rise from the hearth, and directly after the smoky wickof the _padre's_ lamp flamed up. 

And now Pen had a view of the crowded room which completely dashed hisbelief in the party being the Spanish King and his followers, for he waslooking down upon the heads of a gathering of rough-looking, unshorn, peasant-like men, for the most part in cloaks. Some wore the regularhandkerchief tied round their heads and had their sombrero hats held inhand or laid by their sides. All, too, were well armed, wearing swordsand rough scarves or belts which contained pistols. 

This scene was enough to sweep away all thought of this being a king andhis courtiers, for nothing could have been less suggestive thereof, andthe lad looked in vain for one of them who might have been wounded or sowearied out that he had been carried in. 

Then for a moment Pen let his thoughts run in another direction, butonly for a few moments. These were evidently not any of the smuggler'smen. He had seen too many of them during his sojourn at the priest'shut not to know what they were like--that is to say, men accustomed tothe mountains; for they were all in their way jaunty of mien. Theirarms, too, were different, and once more the thought began to gainentrance that his former surmise was right, and that these bearers ofswords who had spoken in such deferential tones to one of their partywere after all faithful followers or courtiers who had assumed disguisesthat would enable them to pass over the mountains unnoticed. Which thenwas the King?

"If some of them would speak, " said Pen to himself, "it would be easierto tell. "

But the silence, save for a faint crack or two from the burning wood, remained profound. 

At last the watcher was beginning to come to a conclusion and settle inhis own mind that one of the party who was bending forward towards thefire with his cloak drawn about his face might be the King; and hisbelief grew stronger as a flickering flame from the tiny fire playedupon this man's high boots, one of which displayed a rusty spur. 

The next minute all doubt was at an end, for one of the men nearest thedoor uttered a sharp ejaculation which resulted in the occupants of the_padre's_ dwelling springing to their feet. Swords leapt from theirscabbards, and some of the men drew their cloaks about their left arms, while others snatched pistols from their belts, and there followed thesharp clicking of their locks. 

It was evident they were on the alert for anticipated danger, and Pen'seyes glistened, for he could hear no sound. But he noted one thing, andthat was that the booted and spurred individual in the cloak did notstir from where he was seated upon the priest's stool by the fire. 

Then, with a gesture of impatience, Pen saw him throw back his cloak andput his hand to his belt to draw forth a pistol which refused to come. Then with an angry word he gave a fierce tug, with the result that theweapon came out so suddenly that its holder's arm flew up, the pistolexploded with a loud crash, the bullet with which it was loaded passedupward through the boarded ceiling, and Pen started and made a snatch atthe spot where his musket was propped up against the wall, while Punchleaped from where he had crouched and came down again upon theill-fitting boards, which cracked loudly as if the boy were goingthrough. 

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

AN AWKWARD POSITION. 

There was a burst of excitement, hurried ejaculations, and half-a-dozenpistols were rapidly discharged by their holders at the ceiling; whiledirectly after, in obedience to a command uttered by one of the party, adash was made for the corner door, which was dragged open, and, sword inhand, several of the men climbed to the loft. The boards creaked, therewas a hurried scuffle, and first Punch and then Pen were compelled todescend into the room below, dragged before the leader, forced upontheir knees, and surrounded by a circle of sword-points, whose bearersgazed at their leader, awaiting his command to strike. 

The leader sank back in his seat, nursing the pistol he had accidentallydischarged. Then with his eyes half-closed he slowly raised it to takeaim at Pen, who gazed at him firmly and without seeming to blench, whilePunch uttered a low, growling ejaculation full of rage as he made astruggle to escape, but was forced back upon his knees, to start andwince as he felt the point of a sword touch his neck. Then he criedaloud, "Never mind, comrade! Let 'em see we are Bri'sh soldiers andmean to die game. "

Pen did not withdraw his eyes from the man who held his life in hand, and reached out behind him to grasp Punch's arm; but his effort wasvain. 

Just then the seated man seemed to recollect himself, for he threw theempty pistol upon the floor and tugged another from his belt, cocked it, and then swung himself round, directing the pistol at the door, whichwas dashed open by the old priest, who ran in and stood, panting hard, between the prisoners and the holder of the pistol. 

He was too breathless to speak, but he gesticulated violently beforegrasping Pen's shoulder with one hand and waving the other round as ifto drive back those who held the prisoners upon their knees. 

He tried to speak, but the words would not come; and then there wasanother diversion, for a fresh-comer dashed in through the open door, and, regardless of the swords directed at him, forced his way to wherethe prisoners were awaiting their fate. 

He, too, was breathless with running, for he sank quickly on one knee, caught at the hand which held the pistol and raised it quickly to hislips, as he exclaimed in French:

"No, no, your Majesty! Not that!"

"They are spies, " shouted the tired-looking Spaniard who had given thecommand which had sent his followers to make the seizure in the loft. 

"No spies, " cried the _contrabandista_. "Our and his Majesty'sfriends--wounded English soldiers who had been fighting upon our side. "

There was a burst of ejaculations; swords were sheathed, and thedethroned Spanish monarch uncocked his pistol and thrust it back intohis belt. 

"They have had a narrow escape, " he said bitterly. "Why were you nothere with the friends you promised?"

"They are outside awaiting my orders, your Majesty, " said the smugglerbluntly. "May I remind you that you are not to your time, neither haveyou come by the pass I promised you to watch. "

"Bah! How could I, when I was driven by these wretched French, who areten times our number? We had to reach the trysting-place how we could, and it was natural that these boys should be looked upon as spies. Nowthen, where are you going to take us? The French soldiers cannot be farbehind. "

"No, sire; they are very near. "

"And your men--where are they?"

"Out yonder, sire, between you and your pursuers. "

"Then are we to continue our flight to-night?"

"I cannot tell yet, sire. Not if my men can hold the enemy at bay. Itmay be that they will fall back here, but I cannot say yet. I didintend to lead you through the forest and along a path I know by themountain-side; but it is possible that the French are there before us. "

"And are these your plans of which you boasted?" cried the Kingbitterly. 

"No, sire, " replied the _contrabandista_ bluntly. "Your Majesty's delayhas upset all those. "

The King made an angry gesticulation. 

"How could I help it?" he said bitterly. "Man, we have been hemmed inon all sides. There, I spoke hastily. You are a tried friend. Act asyou think best. You must not withdraw your help. "

"Your Majesty trusts me, then, again?"

"Trust you? Of course, " said the King, holding out his hand, which thesmuggler took reverently and raised to his lips. 

Then dropping it he turned sharply to the priest and the two prisoners. 

"All a mistake, my friends. There, " he added, with a smile, "I see youare not afraid;" and noting Punch's questioning look, he patted him onthe shoulder before turning to Pen again. "Where are your guns?" hesaid. 

Pen pointed up to the loft. 

"Get them, then, quickly. We shall have to leave here now. "

He had hardly spoken before a murmur arose and swords were drawn, forthere was a quick step outside, a voice cried "_El rey_!" and one of thesmuggler's followers pressed through to whisper a few words. 

"Ah!" cried the recipient, who turned and said a few words in Spanish tothe King, who rose to his feet, drew his rough cloak around him, andstood as if prepared for anything that might come. 

Just then Pen's voice was heard, and, quite free now, Punch stepped tothe door and took the two muskets that were passed down to him. ThenPen descended with the cartouche-boxes and belts, and handed one toPunch in exchange for a musket, and the two lads stood ready. 

The smuggler smiled approval as he saw his young friends' prompt action, and nodded his head. 

"Can you walk?" he said. 

Pen nodded. 

"And can you fire a few shots on our behalf?"

"Try us, " replied Pen. "But it rather goes against the grain after whatwe have received. You only came in time. "

"Yes, I know, " replied the smuggler. "But there are many mistakes inwar, and we are all friends now. "

The _contrabandista_ turned from him sharply and hurried to the door, where another of his followers appeared, who whispered a few words tohim, received an order, and stepped back, while his leader turned to thefather and said something, which resulted in the old man joining the twolads and pressing their hands, looking at them sadly. 

The next minute the smuggler signed to them to join his follower who waswaiting by the door, while he stepped to the King, spoke to him firmlyfor a few minutes, and then led the way out into the darkness, with thetwo English lads, who were conscious that they were being followed bythe royal fugitive and his men, out along the shelf in the direction ofthe forest-path, which they had just gained when a distant shot rangout, to be repeated by the echoes and followed by another and another, ample indication that there was danger very near at hand. 

The captain said a few words to his follower, and then turned to Pen. 

"Keep with this man, " he said, "when I am not here. I must go back andsee what is going on. "

The lads heard his steps for a minute amongst the crackling husks of thepast year's chestnuts and parched twigs. Then they were merged withthose of the party following. 

"I say, " whispered Punch, "how's your leg?"

"I had almost forgotten it, " replied Pen in a whisper. 

"That's good, comrade. But, I say, all that set a fellow thinking. "

"Yes; don't talk about it, " replied Pen. 

"All right. But I say, isn't this lovely--on the march again with aloaded gun over your shoulder? If I had got my bugle back, and one'sofficer alongside, I should be just happy. Think we shall have a chanceof a shot or two?"

The smuggler, who was leading the way, stopped short and turned uponPunch with a deep, low growl. 

"Eh?" replied Punch. "It's no good, comrade; I can't understand aword. "

The man growled again, and laid his hand sharply upon the boy's lips. 

"Here, don't do that!" cried Punch. "How do I know when you washed thatlast?"

"Be quiet, Punch. The man means we may be nearing the enemy. "

"Why don't he say so, then?" grumbled Punch; and their guide grunted asif satisfied with the effect of Pen's words, and led on again in and outa rugged, winding path, sometimes ascending, sometimes descending, butnever at fault in spite of the darkness. 

Sometimes he stopped short to listen as if to find out how near theKing's party were behind, and when satisfied he led on again, giving thetwo lads a friendly tap or two upon the shoulder after finding that anyattempt at other communication was in vain. 

At last after what must have been about a couple of hours' tramp alongthe extremely rugged path, made profoundly dark by the overhanging low, gnarled trees, he stopped short again and laid his hand in turn upon thelips of the boys, and then touched Pen's musket, which he made himground, took hold of his hands in turn and laid them on the muzzle, andthen stood still. 

"What's he up to now?" whispered Punch, with his lips close to hiscomrade's ear. 

"I think he means we are to halt and keep guard. "

"Oh, that's it, is it?" muttered Punch; and he stood fast, while thesmuggler patted him on the shoulder and went off quickly, leaving theboys alone, with Punch muttering and fuming in his intense desire tospeak. But he mastered himself and stood firm, listening as the stepsof the party behind came nearer and nearer till they were close at hand. This was too much for Punch. 

"Lookye here, " he whispered; "they will be ready to march over usdirectly. How are we going to tell them to halt?"

"Be silent. Perhaps they will have the sense to see that they ought tostop. Most likely there are some amongst them who understand French. "

Pen proved to be right in his surmise, for directly after a portion ofthe following party were close to them, and the foremost asked aquestion in Spanish. "_Halte_!" said Pen sharply, and at a venture; butit proved sufficient. And as he stood in the dim, shadowy, overhungpath the word was passed along to the rear, and the dull sound offootsteps died out. "Bravo!" whispered Punch. "They are beginning tounderstand English after all. I say, ain't that our chaps coming back?"

Pen heard nothing for a few moments. Then there was the faint crack ofa twig breaking beneath some one's feet, and the smuggler who was actingas their guide rejoined them. 

"_Los Franceses_, " said the man, in a whisper; and he dropped thecarbine he carried with its butt upon the stony earth, rested his handsupon the muzzle, and stood in silence gazing right away, and evidentlylistening and keenly on the alert, for he turned sharply upon Punch, whocould not keep his tongue quiet. 

"Oh, bother! All right, " growled the boy. "Here, comrade, " hewhispered to Pen; "aren't these 'ere cork-trees?"

"Perhaps. I'm not sure, " whispered his companion impatiently. "Why doyou ask? What does it matter now?"

"Lots. Just you cut one of them. Cut a good big bung off and stuff itinto my mouth; for I can't help it, I feel as if I must talk. "

"Urrrrrrr!" growled the guide; and then, "Hist! hist!" for there was awhispering behind, and directly after the _contrabandista_ captainjoined them, to ask a low question in Spanish. 

"The enemy are in front. They are before us, " said the smuggler inFrench to Pen. 

Then he spoke to his follower, who immediately began to retrace hissteps, while the leader followed him with the two lads, who were ledback to where the King was waiting in the midst of his followers; andnow a short colloquy took place which resulted in all facing round andfollowing the two smugglers, who retraced their path for the nexthalf-hour, and then suddenly struck off along a rugged track whosedifficulty was such that it was quite plain to the two lads that theywere striking off right up into the mountains. 

It was a wearisome route that was only followed with great difficulty, and now it was that Pen's wounded leg began to give him such intensepain that there were moments when he felt that he must break down. 

But it came to an end at last, just before daybreak, in the midst ofwhat seemed to be an amphitheatre of stones, or what might have beensome quarry or place where prospecting had taken place in search of someone or other of the minerals which abounded in parts of the sterileland. 

And now a halt was made, the smuggler picking out a spot which was roughwith bushes; and here he signed to the two lads to lie down and rest, asilent command so welcome that Pen sank at full length at once, therugged couch seeming to him so welcome that it felt to him like down. 

A few specks of orange light high up in the sky told that sunrise wasvery near at hand, and for a few minutes Pen gazed upwards, rapt inwonder by the beauty of the sight. But as he lay and listened to thelow murmur of voices, these gradually grew fainter and apparently moredistant, while the ruddy specks of light paled and there seemed to benothing more, for pain and exhaustion had had their way. Thoughts ofSpaniards, officers and men, and the _contrabandistas_ with their armsof knife and carbine, were quite as naught, danger non-existent, and forthe time being sleep was lord of all. 

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

A DREAM OF A RAMROD. 

It seemed to Pen to be a dream, and then by some kind of mental changeit appeared to be all reality. In the first instance he felt that hewas lying in the loft over the priest's room, trying to sleep, but hecould not get himself into a comfortable position because Punch had gonedown below to clean his musket and wanted him to come down too andsubmit his weapon to the same process. But it had happened that hewanted to go to sleep horribly, and he had refused to go down; with theconsequence that as he lay just over the knot-hole Punch kept on pokinghis ramrod through the opening to waken him up, and the hard rod wasbeing forced through the dry leaves of the Indian corn to reach his legexactly where the bullet had ploughed, while in the most aggravating wayPunch would keep on sawing the ramrod to and fro and giving him the mostacute pain. 

Then the boy seemed to leave off in a tiff and tell him that he mightsleep for a month for aught he cared, and that he would not try to wakenhim any more. 

Then somehow, as the pain ceased, he did not go to sleep, but went rightoff up the mountain-side in the darkness, guiding the King and hisfollowers into a place of safety; still it was not so safe but that hecould hear the French coming and firing at them now and then. 

However, he went on and on, feeling puzzled all the time that he shouldknow the way through the mountains so well, and he took the King to restunder the great chestnut-tree, and then on again to where the Frenchwere firing, and one of them brought him down with the bullet thatploughed his leg. 

But that did not seem to matter, for, as if he knew every bit of thecountry by heart, he led the King to the goat-herd's cottage, andadvised him to lie down and have a good rest on the rough bed, becausethe peasant-girl would be there before long with a basket of food. 

The King said that he did not care to sleep because he was so dreadfullythirsty, and what he wanted was a bowl of goat's-milk. Then somehow hewent to where the goat was waiting to be milked, and for a long time themilk would not come, but when it did and he was trying to fill thelittle wooden _seau_ it was all full of beautiful cold water from thefoot of the falls where the trout were rushing about. 

Then somehow Punch kept on sawing his ramrod to and fro along the woundin his leg, and the more he tried to catch hold of the iron rod the morePunch kept on snatching it away; and they were going through thedarkness again, with the King and his followers close behind, on the wayto safety; while Pen felt that he was quite happy now, because he hadsaved the King, who was so pleased that he made him Sir Arthur Wellesleyand gave him command of the British army. 

Whereupon Punch exclaimed, "I never saw such a fellow as you are tosleep! Do wake up. Here's Mr Contrabando waiting to speak to you, andhe looks as if he wanted to go away. "

"Punch!" exclaimed Pen, starting up. 

"Punch it is. Are you awake now?"

"Awake? Yes. Have I been dreaming?"

"I d'know whether you have been dreaming or not, but you have beensnoring till I was ashamed of you, and the more I stirred you up themore you would keep on saying, `Ramrod. '"

"Bah! Nonsense!"

"That's what I thought, comrade. But steady! Here he is again. "

"Ah, my young friend!" said the _contrabandista_, holding out his hand. "Better after your long sleep?"

"Better? Yes, " replied Pen eagerly. "Leg's very stiff; but I am readyto go on. Are we to march again?"

"Well, no, there's not much chance of that, for we are pretty wellsurrounded by the enemy, and here we shall have to stay unless we canbeat them off. "

"Where are we? What place is this?" asked Pen rather confusedly. 

"One of our hiding-places, my friend, where we store up our goods andstable the mules when the pass near here is blocked up by snow or thefrontier guards. Well, how do you feel now? Ready to go into hidingwhere you will be safe, or are you ready to help us against your enemiesthe French?"

"Will there be fighting?" asked Pen eagerly. 

"You may be pretty sure of that; but I don't want to force you twowounded young fellows into taking part therein unless you are willing. "

"I am willing, " said Pen decisively; "but it's only fair that I shouldask my comrade, who is only one of the buglers of my regiment. "

"Oh, of course, " said the smuggler captain, "a non-combatant. Hecarries a musket, I see, like yourself. "

"Yes, " replied Pen, with a smile, "but it is only a French piece. Webelong to a rifle-regiment by rights. "

"Yes; I have heard of it, " said the smuggler. 

"Well, I will ask him, " said Pen, "for he doesn't understand a word weare saying. --Punch, " he continued, addressing the boy, "the_contrabandista_ wants to know whether we will fire a few shots againstthe French who are trying to take the Spanish King. "

"Where do they want to take him?" cried the boy eagerly. 

"Back to prison. "

"Why, of course we will, " said the boy sharply. "What do you want toask that for?"

"Because he knows that you are not a private soldier, but a bugle-boy. "

"Well, I can't help that, can I? I am a-growing, and I dare say I couldhit a haystack as well as a good many of our chaps. They ain't all ofthem so clever because they are a bit older than I am. "

"Well, don't get into a tiff, Punch. This isn't a time to show yourtemper. "

"Who's a-showing temper? I can't help being a boy. What does he wantto chuck that in a fellow's teeth for?"

"Quiet! Quiet!" said Pen, smiling. "Then I am to tell him that you areready to have a shot or two at the enemy?"

"Well, I do call you a pretty comrade!" said the boy indignantly. "Ishould have thought you would have said yes at once, instead ofparlyvooing about it like that. --Right, sir!" cried the boy, catching uphis musket, giving it two or three military slaps, and drawing himselfup as if he had just heard the command, "Present arms!"

"_Bon_!" said the smuggler, smiling; and he gave the boy a friendly slapon the shoulder. 

"Ah!" ejaculated Punch, "that's better, " as the smuggler now turned awayto speak to a group of his men who were standing keeping watch behindsome rocks a short distance away. --"I say, comrade--you did tell meonce, but I forgetted it--what does _bong_ mean?"

"Good. "

"Ho! All right. _Bong_! I shall remember that next time. Fire a fewshots! I am game to go on shooting as long as the cartridges last; andmy box is full. How's yours?"

"Only half, " replied Pen. 

"Oh, well, fair-play's a jewel; share and share alike. Here, catchhold. That looks like fair measure. We don't want to count them, dowe?"

"Oh no, that's quite near enough. "

"Will we fire a few shots at the French?" continued Punch eagerly. "Ishould just think we will! Father always said to me, `Pay your debts, my boy, as long as the money lasts;' and though it ain't silver andcopper here, it's cartridges and--There! Ain't it rum, comrade? Now, Iwonder whether you feel the same. The very thought of paying has madethe pain in my back come again. I say, how's your leg?"

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

A CAVERNOUS BREAKFAST. 

"I say, comrade, " whispered Punch; "are we going to begin soon?"

The boys were seated upon a huge block of stone watching the coming andgoing of the _contrabandistas_, several of whom formed a group in a nookof the natural amphitheatre-like chasm in which they had made theirhalt. 

This seemed to be the entrance to a gully, down which, as they waited, the lads had seen the smuggler-leader pass to and fro several timesover, and as far as they could make out away to their left lay the trackby which they had approached during the night; but they could not besure. 

That which had led them to this idea was the fact that it seemed as ifsentries had been stationed somewhere down there, one of whom had comehurriedly into the amphitheatre as if in search of his chief. 

"I say, comrade, " said Punch, repeating his question rather impatiently, "aren't we going to begin soon? I feel just like old O'Grady. "

"How's that, Punch?"

"What he calls `spoiling for a fight, me boy. '"

"Oh, you needn't feel like that, Punch, " said Pen, smiling. 

"Well, don't you?"

"No. I never do. I never want to kill anybody. "

"You don't? That ain't being a good soldier. "

"I can't help that, Punch. Of course, when one's in for it I fire awaylike the rest; but when I'm cool I somehow don't like the feeling thatone has killed or wounded some brave man. "

"Oh, get out, " cried the boy, "with your `killed or wounded some braveman!' They ain't brave men--only Frenchies. "

"Why, Punch, there are as brave men amongst the French as amongst theEnglish. "

"Get out! I don't believe that, " said the boy. "There can't be. Ifthere were, how could our General with his little bit of an army drivethe big army of Frenchies about as he does? Ask any of our fellows, andthey will tell you that one Englishman is worth a dozen Frenchies. Why, you must have heard them say so. "

"Oh yes, I have, Punch, " said Pen, laughing, as he nursed his leg, whichreminded him of his wound from time to time. "But I don't believe it. It's only bluster and brag, of which I think our fellows ought to beashamed. Why, you've more than once seen the French soldiers drive ourmen back. "

"Well, yes, " said Punch grudgingly. "But that's when there have beenmore of them. "

"Not always, Punch. "

"Why is it, then?"

"Oh, when they have had better positions and our officers have beenoutflanked. "

"Now you are dodging away from what we were talking about, " said Punch. "You were saying that you didn't like shooting the men. "

"Well, I don't. "

"That's because you don't understand things, " cried the boytriumphantly. "You see, although I am only a boy, and younger than youare, I am an older soldier. "

"Are you, Punch?" said Pen, smiling. 

"Course I am! Why, you've only been about a year in the regiment. "

"Yes, about a year. "

"Well, " cried the boy triumphantly, "I was born in it, so I'm just asold a soldier as I am years old. You needn't mind shooting as many ofthem as you can. They are the King's enemies, and it is your duty to. Don't the song say, `God save the King?' Well, every British soldierhas got to help and kill as many enemies as he can. But I say, we aregoing to fight for the Spanish King, then? Well, all right; he's ourKing's friend. But where is he now? I haven't seen anything of himthis morning. I hope he hasn't run away and left us to do thefighting. "

"Oh no, " said Pen, "I don't think so. Our smuggler friend said we weresurrounded by the French. "

"Surrounded, eh?" cried Punch. "So much the better! Won't matter whichway we fire then, we shall be sure to bring some one down. Glad youthink the Spanish King ain't run away though. If I was a king I knowwhat I should do, comrade, " continued Punch, nursing his musket andgiving it an affectionate rub and pat here and there. "Leg hurt you, comrade?"

"No, only now and then, " said Pen, smiling. "But what would you do ifyou were a king?"

"Lead my army like a man. "

"Nonsense! What are the generals for?"

"Oh, you would want your generals, of course, and the more bravegenerals the King has--like Sir Arthur Wellesley--the better. I say, he's an Irishman, isn't he?"

"Yes, I believe so, " replied Pen. 

"Yes, " continued Punch after a minute. "They are splendid fellows tofight. I wonder whether he's spoiling for one now. Old O'Grady wouldsay he was. You should hear him sometimes when he's on the talk. Howhe let go, my boy, about the Oirish! Well, they are good soldiers, andI wish, my boy, old O was here to help. O, O, and it's O with me, I amso hungry! Ain't they going to give us anything to eat?"

"Perhaps not, Punch, for it's very doubtful whether our friends keeptheir provisions here. "

"Oh, I say!" cried the boy, with his face resembling that of the braveman in _Chevy Chase_ who was in doleful dump, "that's a thing I'd see toif I was a king and led my army. I would have my men get a good feedbefore they advanced. They would fight ever so much better. Yes, if Iwas a king I'd lead my own men. They'd like seeing him, and fight forhim all the better. Of course I wouldn't have him do all the dirtywork, but--Look there, comrade; there's Mr Contrabando making signalsto you. We are going to begin. Come on!"

The boy sprang to his feet, and the companions marched sharply towardsthe opening where the group of smugglers were gathered. 

"Bah!" ejaculated Punch contemptuously. "What a pity it is! I don'tbelieve that they will do much good with dumpy tools like them;" and theboy literally glared at the short carbines the smugglers had slungacross their shoulders. "Of course a rifle would be best, but a goodmusket and bayonet is worth a dozen of those blunderbusters. What dothey call them? Bell-mouthed? Why, they are just like so manytrumpet-things out of the band stuck upon a stick. Why, it stands toreason that they can't go bang. It will only be a sort of a _pooh_!"And the boy pursed up his lips and held his hand to his mouth as if itwere his lost bugle, and emitted a soft, low note--_poooooh_!

"_Dejeuner, mes amis_!" said the smuggler, as the boys advanced; and heled the way past a group of his followers along the narrow passage-likeopening to where it became a hewn-out tunnel which showed the marks ofpicks, and on into a rock-chamber of great extent, in one corner ofwhich a fire was blazing cheerfully, with the smoke rising to an outletin the roof. Directly after the aromatic scent of hot coffee smote thenostrils of the hungry lads, as well as the aroma of newly fried ham, while away at one side to the right they caught sight of the strangersof the past night, Pen recognising at once the now uncloaked leader whohad presented a pistol at his head. 

"Here, I say, " whispered Punch excitedly, "hold me up, comrade, or Ishall faint. "

"What's the matter?" said Pen anxiously. "You feel that dreadful painagain? Is it your wound?"

"Pain? Yes, " whispered Punch; "but it ain't there;" and he thrust hishand into his pocket to feel for his knife. 

It was a rough meal, roughly served, but so abundant that it was evidentthat the smugglers were adepts in looking after the commissariatdepartment. In one part of the cavern-like place the King and hisfollowers were being amply supplied, while right on the other side--partly hidden by a couple of stacks piled-up in the centre of the greatchamber, and formed in the one case of spirit-kegs, in the other ofcarefully bound up bales that might have been of silk or velvet--weregrouped together near the fire some scores of the _contrabandistas_ whoseemed to be always coming and going--coming to receive portions offood, and going to make place for others of the band. 

And it was beyond these stacks of smuggled goods that their_contrabandista_ friend signed to the lads to seat themselves. One ofthe men brought them coffee and freshly fried ham and cake, which thecaptain shared with them and joined heartily in the meal. 

"I say, Pen, " whispered Punch, "do tell him in `parlyvoo' that I sayhe's a trump! Fight for him and the King! I should just think we will!D'ye 'ear? Tell him. "

"No, " said Pen. "Let him know what we feel towards him by what we do, Punch, not what we say. "

"All right. Have it your own way, " said the boy. "But, I say, I dolike this ham. I suppose it's made of some of them little pigs we seerunning about in the woods. Talk about that goat's mutton! Why, 'tain't half so good as ours made of sheep, even though they do serve itout and call it kid. Why, when we have had it sometimes for rations, you couldn't get your teeth into it. Kid, indeed! Grandfather kid!I'm sure of that. I say, pass the coffee, comrade. Only fancy! Milkand sugar too! Oh no, go on; drink first. Age before honesty. Iwonder whether this was smuggled. --What's the matter now?"

For in answer to a shrill whistle that rang loudly in echoes from theroof, every _contrabandista_ in the place sprang up and seized hiscarbine, their captain setting the example. 

"No, no, " he said, turning to the two lads. "Finish your breakfast, andeat well, boys. It may be a long time before you get another chance. There's plenty of time before the firing begins, and I will come backfor you and station you where you can fight for Spain. "

He walked quickly across to where the King's followers had started upand stood sword in hand, their chief remaining seated upon an upturnedkeg, looking calm and stern; but at the same time his eyes wanderedproudly over the roughly disguised devoted little band who were ready todefend him to the last. 

Pen watched the _contrabandista_ as he advanced and saluted thedethroned monarch without a trace of anything servile; the Spanishgentleman spoke as he addressed his sovereign in a low tone, but hiswords were not audible to the young rifleman. Still the latter couldinterpret them to himself by the Spaniard's gestures. 

"What's he a-saying of?" whispered Punch; and as he spoke the boysurreptitiously cut open a cake, turned it into a sandwich, and thrustit into his haversack. 

"I can't hear, Punch, " replied Pen; "and if I could I shouldn'tunderstand, for he's speaking in Spanish. But he's evidently tellinghim that his people may finish their breakfast in peace, for, like us, they are not wanted yet. "

As Pen spoke the officers sheathed their swords, and two or three ofthem replaced pistols in their sashes. Then the _contrabandista_ turnedand walked sharply across the cavern-like chamber to overtake his men, and as he disappeared, distant but sharp and echoing _rap, rap, rap_, came the reports of firearms, and Punch looked sharply at his companion. 

"Muskets, ain't they?" he said excitedly. 

"I think so, " replied Pen. 

"Must be, comrade. Those blunderbusters--_trabookoos_ don't they callthem?--couldn't go off with a bang like that. All right; we are ready. But, I say, a soldier should always make his hay when the sun shines. Fill your pockets and haversack, comrade. --There they go again! I amglad. It's like the old days once more. It will be `Forward!'directly--a skirmishing advance. Oh, bad luck, as old O'Grady says, tothe spalpeen who stole my bugle! The game's begun. "

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

AT BAY. 

The King's party remained perfectly still during the first few shots, and then, unable to contain themselves, they seemed to the lads to bepreparing for immediate action. The tall, stern-looking Spaniard whohad seemed to be their leader the previous night, and who had given theorders which resulted in the boys being dragged down into the priest'sroom, now with a due show of deference approached the King, who remainedseated, and seemed to be begging his Sovereign to go in the direction hepointed, where a dark passage evidently led onward right into the innerportions of the cavern or deserted mine. 

The conversation, which was carried on in Spanish, would not have beencomprehended by the two lads even if they had understood that tongue;but in spite of the Spaniard going even so far as to follow up hisrequest and persuasion by catching at the King's arm and trying to drawhim in the direction he indicated, that refugee shook his headviolently, wrested his wrist away, drew his sword, placed himself infront of his followers, and signed to them to advance towards theentrance. 

"Well done!" whispered Punch. "He is something like a king after all. He means fighting, he does!"

"Hush, " whispered back Pen, "or you will be heard. "

"Not us, " replied Punch, who began busying himself most unnecessarilywith his musket, placing the butt between his feet, pulling out theramrod and running it down the barrel to tap the end of the cartridge asif to make sure that it was well driven home. 

Satisfied with this, he drew the iron rod again, thrust it into theloops, threw the piece muzzle forward, opened the pan to see that it wasfull of powder, shut it down again, and made a careful examination ofthe flint. For these were the days long prior to the birth of thecopper percussion-cap, and plenty of preliminaries had to be gonethrough before the musket could be fired. 

Satisfied now that everything possible had been done, he whispered asuggestion to his companion that he too should make an examination. 

"I did, " replied Pen, "a few minutes ago. "

"But hadn't you better look again?" whispered Punch. 

"No, no, " cried his companion impatiently. "Look at them; they are alladvancing to the entrance, and we oughtn't to be left behind. "

"We ain't a-going to be, " said the boy through his set teeth. "Comeon. "

"No, " replied Pen. 

"Come on, I say, " cried the boy again. "We have only got muskets, butwe are riflemen all the same, and our dooty is to go right in frontskirmishing to clear the way. "

"Our orders were, " said Pen, "to wait here till our captain fetched usto the front and did what he told us. "

"But he ain't come, " protested Punch. 

"Not yet, " replied Pen. "Do you want him to come and find that we havebroken faith with him and are not here?"

"Course I don't, " cried the boy, speaking now excitedly. "But supposehe ain't coming? How do we know that he aren't got a bullet in him andhas gone down? He can't come then. " Pen was silent. 

"And look here, " continued Punch; "when he gave us those orders he toldthat other lot--the Spaniel reserve, you may call them--to stop yondertill he come. Well, that's the King, ain't it? He's ordered anadvance, and he's leading it hisself. Where's his cloud of riflemenfeeling the way for him? Are we to stop in the rear? I thought you didknow better than that, comrade. I do. This comes of you only being ayear in the regiment and me going on learning for years and years. Isay our place is in the front; so come on. "

"Yes, Punch; you must be right, " said Pen unwillingly, "Forwards then. Double!"

"That's your sort!" And falling into step and carrying their muskets atthe trail, the two lads ran forward, their steps drowned for the momentby the heavy firing going on away beyond the entrance; and they werenearly close up to the little Spanish party before their advance wasobserved, and then one of the Spaniards shouted a command which resultedin his fellows of the King's bodyguard of friends turning suddenly uponthem to form a _chevaux-de-frise_ of sword-blades for the protection oftheir Sovereign. 

For the moment, in the excitement, the two lads' lives were in peril;but Pen did not flinch, and, though suffering acute pain from his wound, ran on, his left arm almost brushing the little hedge of sword-points, and only slackening his speed when he was a dozen yards in front andcame right upon the smuggler-leader, pistol in one hand, long Spanishknife in the other. 

Instead of angrily denouncing them for their disobedience to his order, he signed to them to stop, and ran on to meet the King's party, holdingup his hand; and then, taking the lead, he turned off a little way tohis left toward a huge pile of stones and mine-refuse, where he placedthem, as it were, behind a bank which would act as a defence if a rushupon them were made from the front. 

The two lads watched him, panting the while with excitement, listeningas they watched to the fierce burst of firing that was now beingsustained. 

The King gave way at once to the smuggler's orders, planting himselfwith his followers ready for an anticipated assault; and, apparentlysatisfied, the smuggler waved the hand that grasped his knife and ranforward again with the two young Englishmen. 

This time it was the pistol that he waved to them as if bidding themfollow, and he ran on some forty or fifty yards to where the entrancewidened out and another heap of mine-rubbish offered itself upon theother side as a rough earthwork for defence, and where the two ladscould find a temporary parapet which commanded the entry for nearly ahundred yards. 

Here he bade the two lads kneel where, perfectly safe themselves, theycould do something to protect their Spanish friends behind on theirleft. 

"Do your best, " he said hoarsely. "They are driving my men back fast;but if you can keep up a steady fire, little as it will be, it will actas a surprise and maybe check their advance. But take care and mind notto injure any of my men. "

He said no more, but ran forward again along the still unoccupied way, till a curve of the great rift hid him from their sight. 

"What did he say?" whispered Punch excitedly, as Pen now looked roundand diagonally across the way to the great chamber, and could see theother rough stonework, above which appeared a little line of swords. 

"Said we were to be careful not to hurt him and his friends if they werebeaten back. "

"No fear, " said Punch; "we can tell them by their red handkerchiefsround their heads and their little footy guns. We've got nothing to do, then, yet. "

"For a while, Punch; but they are coming on fast. Hark at them!" Forthe firing grew louder and louder, and was evidently coming nearer. 

"And only two of us as a covering-party!" muttered Punch. "Oh, don't Iwish all our chaps were here!"

"Or half of them, " said Pen. 

"Yes, or half of them, comrade. Why, I'd say thank ye if it was onlyold O'Grady, me boy. He can load and fire faster than any chap in ourcompany. Here, look at that!" For the sunlight shone plainly upon thered silk handkerchief of a Spaniard who suddenly ran into sight, stoppedshort, and turned to discharge his carbine as if at some invisiblepursuers, and then dropped his piece, threw up his hands, and fellheavily across the way, which was now tenanted by a Spanish defender ofthe King. 

"Only wounded perhaps, " panted Punch; and Pen watched the fallen manhopefully in the expectation of seeing him make an effort to crawl outof the line of fire; but the two lads now became fully conscious of thefact that bullets were pattering faster and faster right into thegully-like passage and striking the walls, some to bury themselves, others to flatten and fall down, bringing with them fragments of stoneand dust. 

The musketry of the attacking party and the replies of pistol andcarbine blended now in a regular roll, but it was evident that thedefenders were stubbornly holding their own; while the muskets thatrested on the stones in front of the two lads remained silent, and Punchuttered an impatient ejaculation as he looked sharply round at Pen. 

"Oh, do give us a chance, " he cried. "Here, comrade, oughtn't we two torun to cover a little way in advance?"

"No, " said Pen excitedly. "Now then, look out! Here they come!"

As the words left his lips, first one and then another, and directlyafter three more, of the _contrabandistas_ ran round the curve well intosight and divided, some to one side, some to the other, seeking theshelter of the rocky wall, and fired back apparently at their pursuingenemy before beginning to reload. 

They were nearly a hundred yards from the two boys, who crouched, trembling with excitement, waiting impatiently to afford the little helpthey could by bringing their muskets to bear. Then, as the firing wenton, there was another little rush of retiring men, half-a-dozen comingone by one into sight, to turn, seek the cover of the wall, and fireback as if in the hope of checking pursuit. But a couple of these wentdown, and it soon became evident from the firing that the advance wassteadily continued. 

Another ten minutes of wild excitement followed, and then there was arush of the Spaniards, who continued their predecessors' tactics, firingback and sheltering themselves; but the enemy were still hidden from thetwo lads. 

"Let's--oh, do let's cross over to the other side, " cried Punch. "There's two places there where we could get shelter;" and he pointed toa couple of heaps of stone that diagonally were about forty yards inadvance. 

But as he spoke there was another rush of their friends round the curve, with the same tactics, while those who had come before now dashed acrossthe great passage and occupied the two rough stoneworks themselves. 

"Too late!" muttered Punch amidst the roar of musketry which now seemedto have increased in a vast degree, multiplied as the shots were byechoing repetitions as they crossed and recrossed from wall to wall. 

"No!" shouted Pen. "Fire!" For half-a-dozen French chasseurs suddenlycame running into sight in pursuit of the last little party of theSpaniards, dropped upon one knee, and, rapidly taking aim, fired at andbrought down a couple more of the retreating men. 

There was a sharp flash from Punch's piece, and a report from Pen'swhich sounded like an echo from the first, and two of the half-dozenchasseurs rolled over in the dust, while their comrades turned on theinstant and ran back out of sight, followed by a tremendous yell oftriumph from the Spaniards, who had now manned the two heaps of stoneson the other side. 

There was another yell, and another which seemed to fill the entry tothe old mine with a hundred echoes, while as the boys were busilyreloading a figure they did not recognise came running towards theircoign of vantage at the top of his speed. 

"Quick, Punch! An enemy! Bayonets!" cried Pen. 

"Tain't, " grumbled Punch. "Nearly ready. It's Contrabando. "

The next minute the Spaniard was behind them, slapping each on the back. 

"Bravo! Bravissimo!" he shouted, making his voice heard above theenemy's firing, for his men now were making no reply. "_Continuez!Continuez_!" he cried, and then dashed off forward again and, heedlessof the flying bullets, crossed to where his men were lying down behindthe two farther heaps of stones, evidently encouraging some of them tooccupy better places ready for the enemy when they made their attack inforce. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. 

KEEPING THE BRIDGE. 

Slight as was the check--two shots only--the sight of a couple of theirmen going down was sufficient to stop the advance of the attacking partyfor a few minutes; but the firing continued in the blind, unreasoningway of excited soldiery until the leaders had forced it upon the noticeof their eager men that they were firing down a wide gully-like spotwhere, consequent on the curve, none of those they sought to shoot downwere in sight. 

But this state of excitement lasted only a few minutes, and then, headedby an officer, about a dozen of the enemy dashed into view. 

"Now then, " whispered Punch; but it was not necessary, for the twomuskets the lads had laid ready went off almost as one, and a couple ofthe French chasseurs stumbled forward and fell headlong almost withintouch of their dead or wounded comrades. 

Once more that was enough to make the others turn tail and dash back, leaving their leader behind shaking his sword after them as they ran;and then, in contempt and rage, he stopped short and bent down over eachof the poor fellows who had fallen. 

Pen could see him lay his hand upon their breasts before coollysheathing his sword and stopping in bravado to take out a cigarette, light it, and then, calmly smoking, turn his back upon his enemies andwalk round the curve and disappear. 

"There, Punch, " said Pen, finishing the loading of his musket; "don'tyou tell me again that the French have no brave men amongst them. "

"Well, " said the boy slowly, "after that I won't. Do you know, it mademe feel queer. "

"It made me feel I don't know how, " said Pen--"half-choking in thethroat. "

"Oh, it didn't make me feel like that, " said Punch thoughtfully. "I hadfinished reloading before he had felt all his fellows to see if theywere dead, and I could have brought him down as easy as kiss my hand, but somehow I felt as if it would be a shame, like hitting a chap whenhe's down, and so I didn't fire. Then I looked at you, and I could seeyou hadn't opened your pan through looking at him. You don't think Iought to have fired, do you?"

"You know I don't, Punch, " said Pen shortly. "It would have beencowardly to have fired at a man like that. "

"But I say, " said Punch, "wasn't it cheek! It was as good as telling usthat he didn't care a button for us. "

"I don't believe he does, " said Pen thoughtfully; "but, I say, Punch, Ishouldn't like to be one of his men. "

"What, them two as we brought down? Of course not!"

"No, no; I mean those who ran away and left him in the lurch. He's justthe sort of captain who would be ready to lay about him with the flat ofhis sword. "

"And serve the cowardly beggars right, " cried Punch. "Think they willcome on again?"

"Come on again, with such a prize as the Spanish King to be made aprisoner? Yes, and before long too. There, be ready. There'll beanother rush directly. "

There was, and almost before the words were out of Pen's lips. Thistime, though, another officer, as far as the lads could make out, wasleading the little detachment, which was about twice as strong as thelast, and the lads fired once more, with the result that two of theattacking party went down; but instead of the rest turning tail in panicand rushing back, they followed their officer a dozen yards farther. Then they began to waver, checked their pace, and stood hesitating;while, in spite of their officer excitedly shouting and waving his swordto make them advance, they came to a stand, with the brave fellow somedistance in front, where the lads could hear him shout and rage beforemaking a dash back at the leading files, evidently with the intention offlogging them into following him. 

But, damped by the fate of their fellows, it only wanted the appearanceof flight, as they judged the officer's movement, to set them in motion, and they began to run back in panic, followed by the jeering yells ofthe _contrabandistas_, who hurried their pace by sending a scatteredvolley from their carbines, not a bullet from which took effect. 

"Look at that, Punch; there's another brave fellow!"

"Yes, " cried the boy, finishing loading. "There, go on, load away, Idon't want you to shoot him. Yes, he's another plucky un. But, myword, look at him! He must be a-cussing and a-swearing like hooray. But I call that stupid. He needn't have done that. My word, ain't hein a jolly rage!"

Much to the surprise of Pen, the officer did not imitate his fellow whopaused to light a cigarette, but took the point of his sword in his lefthand, stooped down with his back to his enemies, broke the blade in halfacross his knee, dashed the pieces to the ground, and then slowly walkedback. 

"Poor fellow!" said Pen thoughtfully. 

"Yes, and poor sword, " said Punch. "I suppose he will have to pay forthat out of his own pocket, or have it stopped out of his pay. Oh no;he's an officer, and finds his own swords. But he was a stupid. Won'the be sorry for it when he cools down!"

They were not long kept in suspense as to what would occur next, forjust before he disappeared the lookers-on saw the officer suddenly turnaside to close up to the natural wail of the little ravine, giving placeto the passage of the stronger party still who came on cheering andyelling as if to disconcert the sharpshooters who were committing suchhavoc in their little detachments. But their effort was in vain, for ata short interval the two young riflemen once more fired at the denselittle party, which it was impossible to miss. Two men in the frontwent down, three or four of their fellows leaped over their prostrateforms, and then several of those who followed stumbled and fell, panicensued, and once more the company was in full flight, followed slowly bya couple of despondent-looking officers, one of whom turned while thecarbine bullets were flying around him to shake his sword at hisenemies, his fellow taking his cue from this act to contemptuously raisehis _kepi_ in a mocking salute. 

"Here, I won't say anything about the Frenchmen any more, " said Punch. "Why, those officers are splendid! They are just laughing at thecontra-what-you-may-call-'ems, and telling them they can't shoot a bit. It's just what I thought, " he continued, finishing his loading; "thoselittle dumpy blunderbuss things are no good at all. I suppose that willabout sicken them, won't it?"

Pen shook his head as he closed the pan of his musket with a sharpclick. 

"The officers will not be satisfied till they have put a stop to ourshooting, Punch. "

"Oh, but they can't, " said the boy, with a laugh. "But, I say, I neverthought I could shoot so well as this. Ain't it easy!"

"No, " said Pen quietly. "I think we shot well at first, but here withour muskets resting steady on the stones in front, and with so many mento shoot at, we can't help hitting some of them. Hallo! Here comes ourfriend. "

For now that the little gorge before them lay open the _contrabandista_joined them, to begin addressing his words of eulogy to Pen. 

"Tell your comrade too, " he continued, "how proud I am of the way inwhich you are holding the enemy in check. I have just come from theKing, and he sends a message to you--a message, he says, to the twobrave young Englishmen, and he wants to know how he can reward you forall that you have done. "

"Oh, we don't want rewarding, " said Pen quietly. "But tell me, is thereany way by which the enemy can take us in the rear?"

"No, " said the smuggler quietly. "But it would be bad for you--and us--if they could climb up to the top there and throw pieces of rock down. But they would want ladders to do that. I am afraid, though--no, " headded; "there's nothing to be afraid of--that they will be coming onagain, and you must keep up your firing till they are so sick of theirlosses that they will not be able to get any more of their men toadvance. "

"And what then?" said Pen. 

"Why, then, " said the smuggler, "we shall have to wait till it's darkand see if we can't steal by them and thread our way through the lowerpass, leaving them to watch our empty _cache_. "

Quite a quarter of an hour passed now, and it seemed as if the spiritsof the French chasseurs were too much damped for their officers to getthem to advance again. 

Then there was another rush, with much the same result as before, andagain another and another, and this was kept up at intervals for hours, till Pen grew faint and heart-sick, his comrade dull and stubborn; andboth were faint too, for the sun had been beating down with torridviolence so that the heated rocks grew too hot to touch, and the burningthirst caused by the want of air made the ravine seem to swim beforePen's eyes. 

But they kept on, and with terrible repetition the scenes of the morningfollowed, until, as the two lads reloaded, they rested the hotmusket-barrels before them upon the heated rock and looked full in eachother's eyes. 

"Well, Punch, " said Pen hoarsely, "what are you thinking?"

The boy was silent for a few moments, and then in the horrible stillnesswhich was repeated between each attack he said slowly, "Just the same asyou are, comrade. "

"That your old wound throbs and burns just the same as mine does?"

"Oh, it does, " said Punch, "and has for ever so long; but I wasn'tthinking that. "

"Then you were thinking, the same as I was, that you were glad that thishorrible business was nearly over, and that these Spanish fellows, whohave done nothing to help us, must now finish it themselves?"

"Well, not azackly, " replied the boy. "What I was thinking was thatit's all over now--as soon as we have had another shot apiece. "

"Yes, " said Pen; "one more shot apiece, and we have fired our lastcartridges. "

"But look here, " said Punch, "couldn't we manage with powder and shotfrom their blunderbusters?"

"I don't know, " said Pen wearily. "I only know this, that I shall betoo heart-sick and tired out to try. "

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. 

FOR THE KING. 

As the evening drew near, it was to the two young riflemen as if Naturehad joined hands with the enemy and had seemed to bid them stand backand rest while she took up their work and finished it to the bitter end. 

"It's just as if Nature were fighting against us, " said Pen. 

"Nature! Who's she? What's she got to do with it?" grumbled Punch. "Phew! Just feel here! The sun's as low down as that, and here's mymusket-barrel so hot you can hardly touch it. But I don't know what youmean. "

"Well, it doesn't matter, " said Pen bitterly. "I only meant that, nowthe enemy are not coming on, it's growing hotter and hotter, and one'sso thirsty one feels ready to choke. "

"Oh, I see now. It's just the same here. But why don't they come on. Must be half an hour since they made their last charge, and if theydon't come soon my gun will go off all of itself, and then if they comeI sha'n't have a shot for them. Think they will come now?"

"Yes, " said Pen; "but I believe they are waiting till it's dark and wesha'n't be able to see to shoot. "

"Why, the cowards!" cried Punch angrily. "The cowardly, mean beggars!Perhaps you are right; but, I say, comrade, they wouldn't stop till it'sdark if they knew that we had only got one cartridge apiece, and that wewere so stupid and giddy that I am sure I couldn't hit. Why, last timewhen they came on they seemed to me to be swimming round and round. "

"Yes, it was horrible, " said Pen thoughtfully, as he tried to recollectthe varied incidents of the last charge, and gave up in despair. "Iwish it was all over, Punch!"

"Well, don't be in such a hurry about that, " said the boy. "I wish thefighting was over, but to wish it was _all_ over sounds ugly. You see, they must be precious savage with us for shooting as we have, and ifthey charge home, as you call it, and find that we haven't got a shot, Iwant to know what we are going to do then. "

"I don't feel as if it matters now, " said Pen despondently. 

"Oh, don't you! But I do, comrade. It's bad enough to be wounded and aprisoner; that's all in the regular work; but these Frenchies must behorribly wild now, and when we can't help ourselves it seems to me thatwe sha'n't be safe. You are tired, and your wound bothers you, and nowonder. It's that makes you talk so grumpy. But it seems to me as ifit does matter. Course soldiers have to take their chance, even if theyare only buglers, and I took mine, and got it. Now my wound's better, Idon't feel like giving up. I feel as if I hadn't half had my innings. I haven't even got to be what you are--full private. But, I say, itain't getting dark yet, is it?"

"No, Punch. But I feel so giddy I can hardly see. "

"Look out, then!" cried the boy excitedly. "Here they come; and you areall wrong. "

For the boy had caught sight of another rush being made, with the enemyscattered wildly; and catching up his musket, Punch fired, while it wasas if mechanically and hardly knowing what he was about that Pen raisedhis piece and followed his companion's example. 

What ensued seemed to be part of a nightmare-like dream, during whichPen once more followed his comrade's example; and, grasping his musketby the heated barrel he clubbed it and struck out wildly for a fewminutes before he felt that he was borne down, trampled upon, and thenlay half-conscious of what was going on. 

He was in no pain, but felt as if he were listening to something thatwas taking place at a distance. There were defiant shouts, there wasthe rushing of feet, there was firing. Orders were being given inFrench; but what it all meant he could not grasp, till all at once itseemed to him that it was very dark, and a hot, wet hand was laid uponhis forehead. 

Then a voice came--a familiar voice; but this too seemed to be from faraway, and it did not seem natural that he should be feeling the touchupon his forehead while the voice came from a distance. 

"I say, they haven't done for you, have they, comrade? Oh, do try tospeak. Tell me where it hurts. "

"Hurts! That you, Punch?"

"Course it is. Hooray! Where's your wound? Speak up, or I can't makeit out in all this row. Where have you got it?"

"Got what?"

"Why, I telled you. The wound. "

"My wound?" said Pen dreamily. Why, you know--in my leg. But it'sbetter now. So am I. But what does it all mean? Did something hit meon the head?

"I didn't half see; but you went down a horrid kelch, and must have hityour head against the rocks. "

"Yes, yes, I am beginning to understand now. But where are we? What'sgoing on? Fighting?"

"Fighting? I should just think there is! Can't you hear?"

"I can hear the shouting, but I don't quite understand yet. "

"Never mind, then. I was afraid you were done for. "

"Done for! What, killed?"

"Something of the kind, " grumbled Punch; "but don't bother about itnow. "

"I must, " said Pen, with what was passing around seeming to lighten up. "Here, tell me, are my arms fastened behind me?"

"Yes, and mine too. But I just wriggled one hand out so as to feel foryou. We are prisoners, lad, and the Frenchies have chivied right backto where the King and his men have been making a bit of a stand. Ican't tell you all azackly, but that's something like it, and I thinkthey are fighting now--bad luck to them, as O'Grady would say!--right inyonder where we had our braxfas'. I say, it's better than I thought, comrade. "

"In what way, Punch?"

"Why, I had made up my mind, though I didn't like to tell you, thatthey'd give us both the bay'net. But they haven't. Perhaps, though, they are keeping us to shoot through the head because they caught usalong with the smugglers. That's what they always do with them. "

"Well, "--began Pen drearily. 

"No, 'tain't. 'Tain't well, nor anything like it. "

The boy ceased speaking, for the fight that had been raging in theinterior of the cavern seemed to be growing fiercer; in fact, it soonbecame plain to the listeners that the tide of warfare was setting intheir direction; the French, who had been driving the _contrabandista's_followers backward into the cavern, and apparently carrying all beforethem, had met with a sudden check. For a fairly brief space they hadfelt that the day was their own, and eager to make up for the long checkthey had suffered, principally through the keen firing of the two boys, they had pressed on recklessly, while the undrilled _contrabandistas_, losing heart in turn, were beginning, in spite of the daring of theirleader, who seemed to be in every part of their front at once, to dropback into the cavern, giving way more and more, till at last they hadshrunk some distance into the old mine, bearing back with them the royalparty, who had struggled to restrain them in vain. 

The part of the old workings to which they had retreated was almost inutter darkness, and just when the French were having their own way andthe Spanish party were giving up in despair, their enemies came to astand, the French officers hesitating to continue the pursuit, fearing atrap, or that they might be led into so dangerous a position that theymight meet with another reverse. 

They felt that where they were they thoroughly commanded the exit, andafter a brief colloquy it was decided to give their men breathing-timewhile a party went back into the great cave, where the fire was stillburning, and did what they could to contrive a supply of firebrands ortorches before they made another advance. 

Fortunately for the Spanish party, the cessation of the attack on thepart of the French gave the former breathing-time as well; and, weariedout though he was, and rather badly wounded, the _contrabandista_hurriedly gathered his men together, and though ready to upbraid thembitterly for the way in which they had yielded to the French attack, hebusied himself instead in trying to prepare them for a more stubbornresistance when the encounter was resumed. 

He had the advantage of his enemies in this, that they were allthoroughly well acquainted with the ramifications of the old mine, andit would be in his power, he felt, to lead the enemy on by giving waystrategically and guiding them where, while they were meeting with greatdifficulties in tracing their flying foes, these latter would be able toescape through one of the old adits and carry with them the King and hisfollowers. 

The _contrabandista_, too, had this further advantage--that he couldeasily refresh his exhausted men, who were now suffering cruelly fromhunger and thirst. To this end he gave his orders quickly to several, who hurried away, to return at the end of a short time bearing a coupleof skins of wine and bread from their regular store. These refreshmentswere hurriedly distributed, the King and his party not being forgotten;and after all partook most hastily, the men's leader busied himself inseeing to the worst of the wounded, sending several of these latter intohiding in a long vault where the mules of the party were stabled readyto resume their loads when the next raid was made across the passes. 

"Now, my lads, " he said, addressing his men, "I am not going to upbraidyou with the want of courage you have shown, only to tell you that whenthe French come on again it will most likely be with lights. Those arewhat I believe they are waiting for. The poor fools think that torcheswill enable them to see us and shoot us down, but they will be to ouradvantage. We shall be in the darkness; they will be in the light; andI am going to lead you in such an attack that I feel sure if you followout my instructions we can make them flee. Once get them on the run, itwill be your duty to scatter them and not let them stop. Yes, " headded, turning sharply in the darkness to some one who had touched himon the shoulder; "who is it?"

"It is I, " said the officer who had taken the lead in the King's flight, and to whom the whole of the monarch's followers looked for direction. "His Majesty wants to speak with you. "

"I'll come, " replied the _contrabandista_. "Do you know why he wantsme?"

"Yes, " replied the officer briefly. 

"I suppose it is to find fault with me for our want of success. "

"I believe that is the case, " said the officer coldly. 

"Ha!" ejaculated the _contrabandista_. "I have as good a right to blamehis Majesty for the meagreness of the help his followers have affordedme. "

"I have done my best, " said the officer gravely, "and so have the rest. But this is no time for recriminations. I believe you, sir, are afaithful friend to his Majesty; and I believe you think the same of me. "

"I do, " replied the smuggler, "and his Majesty is not to blame forthinking hard of one who has brought him into such a position as this. "

"Be brief, please, " said the officer, "and be frank with me before youjoin the King. He feels with me that we are completely trapped, and buta short time back he went so far as to ask me whether the time had notcome for us all to make a desperate charge upon the enemy, and die likemen. "

The smuggler uttered an ejaculation which the officer misconstrued. 

"I meant for us, sir, " he said bitterly, "for I suppose it is possiblethat you and your men are sufficiently at home in these noisome passagesto find hiding-places, and finally escape. "

The smuggler laughed scornfully. 

"You speak, sir, " he said, "as if you believe that my men would leavehis Majesty to his fate. "

"Their acts to-day have not inspired him with much confidence in them, "said the officer coldly. 

"Well, no, " said the smuggler; "but you must consider that my men, whoare perfect in their own pursuits and able enough to carry on aguerilla-like fight against the Civil Guards in the mountains, have forthe first time in their lives been brought face to face with a body ofwell-drilled soldiers ten times their number, and armed with weapons farsuperior to ours. "

"That is true, " said the officer quietly; "but I expected to have seenthem do more to-day, and, with this strong place to hold, not so readyto give up as they were. "

"You take it, then, " said the smuggler, "that we are beaten?"

"His Majesty has been the judge, and it is his opinion. "

"His Majesty is a great and good king, then, " said the smuggler, "but abad judge. We are not beaten. We certainly have the worst of it, andmy poor fellows have been a good deal disheartened, and matters wouldhave gone far worse with us if it had not been for the clevermarksmanship of those two boys. "

"Ah!" exclaimed the officer, "I may as well come to that. His Majestyspeaks bitterly in the extreme about what he calls the cowardice whichresulted in those two poor lads being mastered and taken prisoners, perhaps slain, before his eyes. "

"Indeed!" said the smuggler sharply. "But I did not see that hisMajesty's followers did more to save them than my men. "

"There, we had better cease this unfruitful conversation. But before Itake you to his Majesty, who is waiting for us, tell me as man to man, perhaps face to face with death, what is really our position? You arebeaten, and unable to do more to save the King?"

The smuggler was silent for a few moments, busily tightening a bandageround his arm. 

"One moment, sir, " he said. "Would you mind tying this?"

"A wound!" said the officer, starting. 

"Yes, and it bleeds more freely than I could wish, for I want every dropof blood to spend in his Majesty's service. "

The officer sheathed his sword quickly, bent forward, and, in spite ofthe darkness, carefully tightened the bandage. 

"I beg your pardon, Senor el Contrabandista. I trust you more thanever, " he said. "But we are beaten, are we not?"

"Thanks, senor. --Beaten? No! When my fellows have finished their breadand wine they will be more full of fight than ever. We smugglers haveplenty of the fox in our nature, and we should not treasure up our richcontraband stores in a cave that has not two holes. "

"Ha! You put life into me, " cried the officer. 

"I wish to, " said the smuggler. "Tell his Majesty that in a short timehe will see the Frenchmen coming on lighting their way with torches, andthat he and his followers will show a good front; but do as we do--keepon retreating farther and farther through the black passages of this oldcopper-mine. "

"But retreating?" said the officer. 

"Yes; they will keep pressing us on, driving us back, as they think, till they can make a rush and capture us to a man--King, noble, andsimple smuggler; and when at last they make their final rush they willcapture nothing but the darkness, for we shall have doubled round by oneof the side-passages and be making our way back into the passes to findliberty and life. "

"But one moment, " said a stern voice from the deeper darkness behind. "What of the entrance to this great cavern-mine? Do you think theseFrench officers are such poor tacticians that they will leave theentrance unguarded by a body of troops?"

"One entrance, sire, " said the smuggler deferentially. 

"Your Majesty!" said the officer, "I did not know that you were withinhearing. "

"I had grown weary of waiting, Count, " said the King. "I came on, and Ihave heard all that I wished. Senor Contrabandista, I, your King, askyour pardon. I ask it as a bitterly stricken, hunted man who has beendriven by his misfortunes to see enemies on every hand, and who hasgrown accustomed to lead a weary life, halting ever between doubt anddespair. "

"Your Majesty trusts me then, " said the smuggler, sinking upon one kneeto seize the hand that was extended to him and pressing it to his lips. 

"Ha!" ejaculated the monarch. "Your plans are those of a general; butthere is one thing presses hard upon me. For hours I was watching theway in which those two boys held the enemy at bay, fighting in my poorcause like heroes; and again and again as I stood watching, my fingerstingled to grasp my sword and lead my few brave fellows to lend themaid. But it was ever the same: I was hemmed in by those who were readyto give their lives in my defence, and I was forced to yield to theirassurances that such an advance would be not merely to throw their livesaway and my own, but giving life to the usurper, death to Spain. "

"They spoke the truth, sire, " said the smuggler gravely. 

"But tell me, " cried the King with a piteous sigh, "can nothing be done?Your men, you say, will be refreshed. My friends here are as ready asI am. Before you commence the retreat, can we not, say, by a bold dash, drive them past where those two young Englishmen lie prisoners at theback of the little stonework they defended so bravely till the lastcartridge was fired away? You do not answer, " said the King. 

"Your Majesty stung me to the heart, " said the _contrabandista_, "inthinking that I played a coward's part in not rescuing those two lads. "

"I hoped I had condoned all that, " said the King quickly. 

"You have, sire, and perhaps it is the weakness and vanity in my naturethat makes me say in my defence, I and half-a-dozen of my men made asbrave an effort as we could, twice over, when the French made theirfinal rush, and each time my poor fellows helped me back with abayonet-wound. --Ah! what I expected!" he exclaimed hastily, for therewas a flickering light away in front, followed by another and another, and the sound of hurrying feet, accompanied by the clicking of gun andpistol lock as the _contrabandistas_ gathered together, rested andrefreshed, and ready for action once again. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. 

IN THE ROUT. 

It is one thing--or two things--to make plans mentally or upon paper, and another thing to carry them out. A general lays down his plan ofcampaign, but a dozen hazards of the war may tend to baffle and spoilcourses which seem as they are laid down sure ways leading to success. 

The _contrabandista_ chief had made his arrangements in a way that whenhe explained them made his hearers believe that nothing could be better. His reluctant silence respecting the position of the two lads hadimpressed the Spanish King with the belief that he considered the youngriflemen's situation to be hopeless, and that he felt that he had doneeverything possible. 

In fact, he doubted their being alive, and the possibility, even if theystill breathed where they were struck down, of forcing his way throughthe strong force of French that occupied the mine, and reaching theirside. Above all, he felt that he would not be justified in risking thelives of many men for the sake of two. 

And now the flickering lights in the distance told that the French hadsomehow contrived the means for making their way through the darknesseasier. They had evidently been busy breaking up case and keg, startingthe brands thoroughly in the fire, and keeping them well alight by theirbearers brandishing them to and fro as they advanced, with the fullintent of driving the Spaniards into some cul-de-sac among the ancientworkings of the mine, and there bayoneting them or forcing them to laydown their arms. 

All this was in accordance with the orders given by the French officers, and the chasseurs advanced perfect in their parts and with a bold front. But the _contrabandista's_ followers and those of the King were also asperfect in what they would do, and they knew exactly that they were tofire and bring down their adversaries as they had an opportunity giventhem by their exposure in the light, and after firing they were to leadthe untouched on by an orderly retreat, thus tempting the enemy fartherand farther into the winding intricacies of the old workings. 

Those advancing and those in retreat began to carry out their orderswith exactitude; the chasseurs cheered and advanced in about equalnumbers, torch-bearers and musketeers with fixed bayonets, the formerwaving their burning brands, and all cheering loudly as in the distancethey caught sight of those in retreat; but it was only to find as therattle and echoing roll of carbine and pistol rang out and smoke beganto rise, that they were forming excellent marks for those who fired, andbefore they had advanced, almost at a run, fifty yards, the mine-floorwas becoming dotted with those who were wounded and fell. 

The distance between the advancing and retreating lines remained aboutthe same, but the pace began to slacken, the run soon became a walk, anda very short time afterwards a stand on the part of those who attacked, and the smoke of the pieces began to grow more dense as the firingincreased. 

Orders kept on ringing out as the French officers shouted "Forward!" butin vain, and the light that, as they ran, had flashed brilliantly, asthey stood began to pale, and the well-drilled men who now saw a denseblack curtain of smoke before them, riven here and there by flashes oflight, began to hesitate, then to fall back, slowly at first, and beforemany paces to the rear had been taken they found the light begin toincrease again and more men fell. 

That pause had been the turning-point, for from a slow falling back thepace grew swifter, the waving and tossing lights burned more brightly, and those who fired sent ragged volley after volley in amongst the nowclearly seen chasseurs; while the Spaniards, forgetful now of thecommands they had received, kept on advancing, in fact, pursuers intheir turn, firing more eagerly as each few steps took them clear of thecloud of smoke which they left behind. 

It was a completely unexpected change of position. The French officersshouted their commands, and the _contrabandista_ captain gave forth his, but in both cases it was in vain, for almost before he could realise thefact a panic had seized upon chasseur and torch-bearer alike, and soonall were in flight--a strangely weird medley of men whose way was lit upby the lights that were borne and blazed fiercely on their side, whiletheir pace was hastened by the firing in their rear. 

It was only a matter of some few minutes before the French officersfound that all their attempts to check the rout were in vain. 

The hurry of the flight increased till the darkness of the mine-passagewas left behind and all raced onward through the great store-cavern andout into the narrow gully, now faint in the evening light, and on pastthe rough stone-piled defences, where the officers once more tried tocheck the headlong flight. 

Here their orders began to have some effect, for there were dead andwounded lying in the way, and some from breathlessness, some from shame, now slackened their pace and stooped to form litters of their muskets, on which some poor wretch who was crying for help with extended handswas placed and carried onward. 

And somehow, in the confusion of the flight, as the fallen wounded weresnatched up in the semi-darkness from where they lay, the last burningbrand having been tossed aside as useless by those who could now seetheir way, two of the wounded who lay with their arms secured behindthem with straps were lifted and borne onward, for those who were nowobeying their officers' orders were too hurried and confused, hastenedas they were in their movements by the rattle and crash of firearms intheir rear, to scrutinise who the wounded were. It was sufficient forthem that they were not wearers of the rough _contrabandista's_ garb;and so it was that the dark-green uniform of the bandaged wounded wasenough, and the two young riflemen became prisoners and participators inthe chasseurs' rout. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. 

AFTER "WIGGLING. "

"Where do you suppose we are, Punch?"

"Don't quite know, " was the reply. "Chap can't think with his armsstrapped behind him and his wrists aching sometimes as if they were sawnoff and at other times being all pins and needles. Can you think?"

"Not very clearly; and it has been too dark to see much. But whereshould you say we are? Quite in a new part of the country?"

"No; I think we came nearly over the same ground as we were going afterwe left that good old chap's cottage; and if we waited till it was quitedaylight, and we could start off, I think I could find my way back towhere we left the old man. "

"So do I, " said Pen eagerly. "That must be the mountain that the_contrabandista_ captain took us up in the darkness. "

"Why, that's what I was thinking, " said Punch; "and if we had gone on alittle farther I think we should have got to the place where theFrenchies attacked us. Of course I ain't sure, because it was all inthe darkness. But, I say, Mr Contrabando and his fellows have given upthe pursuit. I haven't heard anything of them for hours now. "

"No, " said Pen; "we may be sure that they have given it up, else weshouldn't be halted here. I fancy, Punch--but, like you, I can't besure--that the Frenchmen have been making for the place where theysurprised us after being driven down the mountain pass. "

"That's it, " said Punch; "and our friends, after beating off the enemy, have gone back to their what-you-may-call-it quarters--mine, didn't theycall it?"

"Yes. "

"Well, then, that's what we have got to do--get away from here and goback and join Mr Contrabando again. "

"Impossible, Punch, even if we were free. "

"Not it! Why, I could do it in the dark if I could only get rid ofthese straps, now that the Frenchies are beaten. "

"Not beaten, Punch; only driven back, and I feel pretty sure in thinkingit out that they have come to a halt here in what I dare say is a good, strong place where they can defend themselves and wait forreinforcements before attacking again. "

"Oh, they won't do that, " said Punch roughly. "They had such a sickenerlast night. "

"Well, I can't be sure, " said Pen; "but as far as I can make out theyhave a lot of wounded men lying about here in this bit of a valley, andthere are hundreds of them camped down about the fires. They wouldn'thave lit those fires if it hadn't been a strong place. "

"I suppose not, " said Punch. "I never thought of that. Because theywould have been afraid to show the smugglers where they were, and itsounded when they were talking as if there were hundreds and hundreds ofthem--regiments, I think. One couldn't see in the night, but while Iwas lying awake I thought there were thousands of them. "

"Say hundreds, Punch. Well, I haven't spoken to you much lately, for Ithought you were asleep. "

"Asleep! Not me! That's what I thought about you; and I hoped you was, so that you could forget what a muddle we got into. Well, I don't knowhow you feel now, but what I want to do is to get away from here. "

"Don't talk so loud, " said Pen; "there are those fellows on sentry, andthey keep on coming very near now and then. "

"That don't matter, " said Punch, "they can't understand what we talkabout. What do you say to having a go at getting our arms loose?"

"They would find it out, and only bind us up again. "

"Yes, if we stopped to let 'em see. "

"Then you think we could get away, Punch?"

"To be sure I do; only we should have to crawl. And the sooner thebetter, for once it gets light the sentries will have a shot at us, andwe have had enough of that. I say, though, didn't they pick us upbecause they thought we were wounded?"

"The men did; and then one of the officers saw our uniforms and that wewere the two who had been taken prisoners when they made their rush. "

"Oh, that was it, was it?" said Punch. "Well, what do you say? Hadn'twe better make a start?"

"How?" said Pen. "I have been trying again and again to get my armsloose, and I am growing more helpless than ever. "

Punch gave a low grunt, raised his head a little, and tried to lookround and pierce the darkness, seeing very little though but the factthat they were surrounded by wounded men, for the most part asleep, though here and there was one who kept trying to move himself into aneasier position, but only to utter a low moan and relapse into a stateof semi-insensibility. 

About a dozen paces away, though, he could just make out one of thesentries leaning upon his musket and with his back to them. Satisfiedwith his scrutiny, Punch shifted his position a little, drawing himselfinto a position where he could get his lips close to his companion'sear. 

"Look here, " he said, "can you bite?"

"Bite! Nonsense! Who could think of eating now?"

"Tchah!" whispered Punch, "who wants to eat? I have been wigglingmyself about quietly ever since they set me down, and I have got myhands a bit loose. Now, I am just going to squirm myself a bit fartherand turn over when I have got my hands about opposite your mouth, and Iwant you to set-to with your teeth and try hard to draw the tongue ofthe strap out of the buckle, for it's so loose now that I think youcould do it. "

"Ah! I'll try, Punch, " whispered Pen. 

"Then if you try, " said the boy, "you'll do it. I know what you are. "

"Don't talk, then, " replied Pen excitedly, "but turn over at once. Whydidn't you think of this before? We might have tried at once, and had abetter chance, for it will be light before long. "

"Didn't think of it. My arms hurt so that they made me stupid. "

Giving himself a wrench, the boy managed to move forward a little, turned over, and then worked himself so that he placed his bandagedwrists close to his comrade's mouth, and then lay perfectly still, forthe sentry turned suddenly as if he had heard the movement. 

Apparently satisfied, though, that all was well, he changed his positionagain, and then, to the great satisfaction of the two prisoners, heshouldered his musket and began to pace up and down, coming and going, and halting at last at the far end of his beat. 

Then, full of doubt but eager to make an effort, Pen set to work, feltfor the buckle, and after several tries got hold of the strap in histeeth, tugging at it fiercely and with his heart sinking more and moreat every effort, for he seemed to make no progress. 

Twice over, after tremendous efforts that he half-fancied loosened histeeth, he gave up what seemed to be an impossibility; but he was rousedupon each occasion by an impatient movement on the part of Punch. 

"It's of no use, " he thought. "I am only punishing myself more andmore;" and, fixing his teeth firmly once more in the leather, he gaveone shake and tug such as a wild beast might have done in worrying anenemy. With one final drag he jerked his head back and lay still withhis jaws throbbing and the sensation upon him that he had injuredhimself so that several of his teeth had given way. 

"It's no good. It's of no use, Punch, " he said to himself; for the boyshook his wrists sharply as if to urge him to begin again. "I can't doit, and I won't try;" when to his astonishment he felt that his comradewas moving and had forced himself back with a low, dull, rustling soundso that he could place his lips to his ear again; and to Pen's surprisethe boy whispered, "That last did it, and I got the strap quite loose. My! How my wrists do ache! Just wait a bit, and then I will pull youover on to your face and have a turn at yours. "

Pen felt too much confused to believe that his companion had succeeded, but he lay perfectly still, with his teeth still aching violently, tillall at once he felt Punch's hands busy about him, and he was jerked overupon his face. 

Then he felt that the boy had raised himself up a little as if to takean observation of their surroundings before busying himself with thestraps that bound his numbed wrists. 

"Lie still, " was whispered, "don't flinch; but I have got my knife out, and I am going to shove it under the strap. Don't holloa if it hurts. "

Pen set his aching teeth hard, and the next minute he felt the point ofthe long Spanish clasp-knife which his comrade carried being thrustbeneath one of the straps. 

"He will cut me, " thought Pen, for he knew that the pressure of thestrap had made his flesh swell so that the leather was half-bedded inhis arm; but setting his teeth harder--the pain he felt there was moreintense--while, when the knife-blade was being forced under the strap heonly suffered a dull sensation, and then grew conscious that as theknife was being thrust beneath the strap it steadily divided the bond, so that directly after there was a dull sound and the blade had forcedits way so thoroughly that the severed portions fell apart; sensationwas so much dulled in the numbed limbs that he was hardly conscious ofwhat had been done, but he knew that one extremely tight ligature hadceased its duty, though he could hardly grasp the idea that one of hisbonds was cut. 

Then a peculiar throbbing sensation came on, so painful that it divertedthe lad's attention from the continuation of Punch's task, and before hecould thoroughly grasp it Pen found that the sharp blade had been thrustunder another strap, dividing it so that the leather fell apart, and hewas free. 

But upon his making an effort to put this to the proof it seemed as ifhis arms were like two senseless pieces of wood; but only for a fewminutes, till they began to prove themselves limbs which were bearers ofthe most intense agony. 

_Click_! went Punch's closing knife-blade; and then he whispered, "That's done it! Now, when you are ready, lead off right between thosesleeping chaps. Creep, you know, in case the sentry looks round. "

"A minute first, " whispered Pen; "my arms are like lead. "

"So's mine. I say, don't they ache?"

Pen made no reply, but lay breathing hard for a time; and then, raisinghis head a little so as to make sure of the safest direction to take, heturned towards his comrade and whispered, "Now then: off!"

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. 

"HEAR THAT?"

It was still dark, but there were faint suggestions of the coming daywhen Pen began to creep in the direction of a black patch which he feltmust be forest. 

This promised shelter; but he had first to thread his way amongst thewounded who lay sleeping around, and his difficulty was to avoidtouching them, for they apparently lay thickest in the direction he hadchosen. 

Before he was aware of what he was doing he had laid his inert righthand upon an outstretched arm, which was drawn back with a sharp wince, and its owner uttered a groan. Bearing to the left and whispering toPunch to take care, Pen crept on, to find himself almost in contact withanother sufferer, who said something incoherently; and then a whisperfrom Punch checked his companion. 

"Come on, " said Pen hastily, "or they will give the alarm. "

"Not they, poor chaps! They are too bad. That sentry isn't coming, ishe?"

Pen glanced in the man's direction, but he was not visible, for some lowbushes intervened. 

"I can't see him, " said Pen. 

"Then look here, comrade; now's our time. It's all fair in war. Everyman for himself. "

"What do you mean? Don't stop to talk, but come on. "

"All right; but just this, " came back in a whisper. "They can't helpthemselves, and won't take any notice whatever we do, unless they thinkwe are going to kill them. Help yourself, comrade, the same as I do. "

Pen hesitated for a moment. Then, as he saw Punch busily takingpossession of musket and cartouche-belt, he followed his example. 

"It's for life, perhaps, " he thought. 

He had no difficulty in furnishing himself with the required arms from apile, and that too without any of the wounded seeming to pay theslightest attention. 

"Ready?" whispered Punch. "Got a full box?"

"Yes, " was the answer. 

"Sling your musket then. Look sharp, for it's getting light fast. "

Directly after the two lads were crawling onward painfully upon handsand knees, for every yard sent a pang through Pen's wrists, and hethoroughly appreciated his comrade's advice, for there were moments whenhe felt that had he been carrying the musket he would certainly haveleft it behind. 

He did not breathe freely till he had entered the dark patch ofwoodland, where it was fairly open, and they had pressed on but a shortdistance in the direction of the mountain, which high up began to looklighter against the sky, when he started violently, for the clear notesof a bugle rang out from somewhere beyond the spot where the woundedlay, to be answered away to left and right over and over again, teachingplainly enough that it was the reveille, and also that they were inclose proximity to a very large body of troops. 

"Just in time, comrade, " said Punch coolly, as he rose to his feet. 

"Take care!" cried Pen. "It isn't safe to stand up yet. "

"Think not? Oh, we shall be all right, " replied the boy. "Lead on. Didn't you know? The reveille was going right behind and off to theleft and right; so there's no troops in front, and all we have got to dois to get on as fast as we can up the mountain yonder. And it's nogood; I must walk. My wristies are so bad that if I try to crawl anymore on my hands they will drop off. Ain't yours bad?"

"Terribly, " replied Pen. 

"Come on, then; we must risk it. There, right incline. Can't you see?There's a bit of a track yonder. "

"I didn't see it, Punch, " said Pen, as they bore off to their right, where the way was more open, and they increased their pace now to asteady walk, a glance back showing them that they were apparently wellscreened by the low growth of trees which flourished in the bottomslopes of the mountains that they could now see more clearly rising infront. 

"We've done it, comrade, " said Punch cheerily, "and I call this a bit ofluck. "

"Don't talk so loudly. "

"Oh, it don't matter, " replied the boy. "They're making too much noisethemselves to hear us. Hark at them! Listen to the buzz! Why, it'sjust as if there's thousands of them down there, just as you thought;and we've hit on the right way, for those Frenchies wouldn't comethrough here unless it was skirmishing with the enemy in front. Theirenemy's all behind, and they'll be thinking about making their way backto the mine. "

"To see if they can't make up for yesterday's reverses. I'm afraid, Punch, it's all over with the poor King and his followers. "

"Yes, " said Punch thoughtfully, as he trudged on as close as he couldget to his companion. "It's a bad lookout for them, comrade; butsomehow I seem to think more of Mr Contrabando. I liked him. Goodluck to the poor chap! And when we get a bit farther on we will pitchupon a snug spot where there's water, and make a bit of breakfast. "

"Breakfast! How?" said Pen, smiling; but, wearied out and faint withhis sufferings, it was a very poor exhibition of mirth--a sort of smileand water, like that of a sun-gleam upon a drizzly day. "Breakfast!" hesaid, half-scornfully, "You are always thinking of eating, Punch. "

"That I ain't, only at bugle-time, when one blows `soup and tater' forbreakfast or dinner. I say, do you know what the cavalry chaps say thetrumpet call is for stables?"

"No, " said Pen quietly; and then to humour his companion he tried tosmile again, as the boy said, "Oh, I know lots of them! This is whatthe trumpet says for the morning call:--

 "Ye lads that are able Now come to the stable, And give all your horses some water and hay-y-y-y!"

And the boy put his half-crippled fist to his lips and softly rang outthe cavalry call. 

"Punch!" whispered Pen angrily, "how can you be such a fool?"

"Tchah! Nobody can hear us. I wanted to cheer you up a bit. Well, ithas stirred you up. There: all right, comrade. For'ard! We are safeenough here. But, I say, what made you jump upon me and tell me I wasalways thinking about eating when I said breakfast?"

"Because this is no time to think of eating and drinking. "

"Oh my! Ain't it?" chuckled the boy. "Why, when you are on the marchin the enemy's country you ought to be always on the forage, and it'sthe time to think of breakfast whenever you get the chance. "

"Of course, " said Pen. 

"Well, ain't we got the chance? We was too busy to think of eating allyesterday, and while we were lying tied up there like a couple of calvesin a farmer's cart. "

"Well, are we much better off now, Punch?"

"Much better--much better off! I should think we are! It was talkingabout poor Mr Contrabando that made me think of it. Poor chap! I hopehe will be able to repulse, as you call it, the Frenchies at the nextattack. He is well provisioned; that's one comfort. And didn't heprovision us? My haversack's all right with what I helped myself to atbreakfast yesterday. Ain't yours?"

Pen clapped his hand to his side. "No, " he said. "The band was tornoff, and it's gone. "

"What a pity! Never mind, comrade. Mine's all right, and regularbulgy; and, as they say, what's enough for one is enough for two; sothat will be all right. I say, ain't it getting against the collar?"

"Yes, we are on the mountain-slope, Punch. "

"Think we are not getting up the same mountain where the old mine is?"

"No, Punch. That must be off more to the right, I think. "

"Yes, I suppose so. But of course we ain't sure; and I suppose we arenot going anywhere near the old _padre's_ place?"

"No, Punch; that lies farther away still to the right. "

"Yes. But, I say, how you seem to get it into your head where all theplaces lie! I can't. It seems to me as if you could make a map. "

"No, no. But I suppose if I wandered about here for long enough Ishould be able to make out some of the roads and tracks. "

"Then I suppose you haven't been here long enough, " said the boybanteringly. "If you had, you would be able to tell where the Britisharmy is, and lead right on to it at once. "

"That would be rather a hard job, Punch, when troops are perhapschanging their quarters every day. "

"I say, hear that?" said the boy excitedly, as a distant call rang out. 

"Yes, plain enough to hear, " replied Pen. 

"Then we ought to turn back, oughtn't we?"

"No. Why?"

"Some of the Frenchies in front. That was just before us, half a mileaway. "

Pen shook his head, and the boy looked at him wonderingly. 

"There! There it is again! Let's get into hiding somewhere, or weshall be running right into them. "

For another clear bugle-note rang out as if in answer to the first. 

"That's nothing to mind, Punch, " said Pen. "These notes came frombehind, and were echoed from the mountain in front. "

"Why, of course! But I can't help it. Father always said that I hadgot the thickest head he ever see. I got thinking that we were going torun right into some French regiment. Then it's all right, and we shallbe able to divide our rations somewhere up yonder where the echoes areplaying that game. I say, what a mistake might be made if some officertook an echo like that for the real thing!"

"Yes, " said Pen thoughtfully; and the two lads stopped and listened todifferent repetitions of the calls, which seemed fainter and fainter asthe time went on; and the sun was well up, brightening as lovely alandscape of mountain, glen, and green slope as ever met human eye. 

But it was blurred to Pen by the desolation and wildness of a countrythat was being ravaged by invasion and its train of the horrors of war. 

As the lads tramped on, seeing no sign of human habitation, not even agoat-herd's hut on the mountain-slopes, the sun grew hotter and the waymore weary, till all at once Punch pointed to a few goats just visiblewhere the country was growing more rugged and wild. 

"See that, comrade?" he cried. 

"Yes, goats, " said Pen wearily; and he stopped short, to throw himselfdown upon a heathery patch, and removed his cap to wipe his perspiringforehead. 

"No, no; don't sit down. Don't stop yet, " cried Punch. "I didn't meanthose old goats. Look away to the left in that hollow. Can't you seeit sparkling?" And the boy pointed to the place where a little rivuletwas trickling down the mountain-side to form a fall, the water making abright leap into a fair-sized pool. "Let's get up yonder first and sitdown and see what I have got in my haversack. Then a good drink ofwater, and we shall be able to go on, and perhaps find where our fellowsare before night. "

"Yes, Punch--or march right into the lines of the French, " said Penbitterly. 

"Oh, well, we must take our chance of that, comrade. One's as likely asthe other. There's the French troops about, and there's our Englishlads--the lads in red as well as the boys in green. No, it's no use tobe down in the mouth. We are just as likely to find one as the other. I wonder how they are getting on up there in the old mine. Shall we benear enough to hear if there's any fighting going on?"

"Perhaps, " said Pen, springing up. "But let's make for that water. "

But it was farther off than it had at first appeared, and it was nearlyhalf an hour after they had startled the browsing goats when the twoweary lads threw themselves down with a sigh of content beside themountain pool, which supplied them with delicious draughts of clear coldwater as an accompaniment to the contents of the haversack which Punch'sforesight had provided. 

"Ah!" sighed the boy. "'Lishus, wasn't it?"

"Yes, delicious, " said Pen. 

"Only one thing agin it, " said Punch. 

"One thing against it, " said Pen, looking up, "Why, it could not havebeen better. "

"Yes, " said the boy sadly. "It waren't half enough. "

"Hark! Listen!" said Pen, holding up his hand. 

"Guns firing!" exclaimed Punch in a whisper. "Think that's in thelittle valley that leads up to the old mine?"

"It's impossible to say, " replied Pen. "It's firing, sure enough, and along way off; but I can't tell whether it's being replied to or whetherwe are only listening to the echoes. "

"Anyhow, " said Punch, "it's marching orders, and I suppose we ought toget farther away. "

"Yes, " replied Pen with a sigh. "But how do you feel? Ready to go onnow?"

"No, not a bit. I feel as if I want to take off my coat and bathe myarms in the water here, for they ache like hooray. "

"Do it, then, " said Pen wearily, "and I must do the same to my wound aswell; and then, Punch, there's only one thing I can do more. "

"What's that, comrade?"

"Get in the shade under that grey-looking old olive, and have a fewhours' sleep. "

"Splendour!" said Punch, taking off his coat. "Hark at the firing!"

"Yes, " said Pen wearily, as he followed his comrade's example. "Theymay fire, but I am so done up that they can't keep me awake. "

The water proved to be a delicious balm for the bruised limbs and thewound--a balm so restful and calming to the nerves that somehow the sunhad long set, and the evening star was shining brilliantly in the softgrey evening sky when the two sleepers, who had lain utterly unconsciousfor hours, started awake together, wondering what it all meant, and thenprepared themselves to face the darkness of the coming night, notknowing what fate might bring; but Pen felt a strange chill run throughhis breast with a shiver as Punch exclaimed in a low, warning whisper, "I say, comrade, hear that? Wolves?"

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. 

STRUNG-UP. 

"Or dogs, " said Pen angrily. "What a fellow you are, Punch! Don't youthink we had enough to make us low-spirited and miserable without youimagining that the first howl you hear comes from one of those horriblebrutes?"

"It's all very well, " said Punch with a shudder. "I have heard dogsenough in my time. Why, I used to be once close to the kennel wherethey kept the foxhounds, and they used to set-to and sing sometimes allat once. Then I have heard shut-up dogs howl all night, and other sortsbegin to howl when it was moonlight; but I never heard a dog make anoise like that. I am sure it's wolves. "

"Well, perhaps you are right, Punch; but I suppose they never attackpeople except in the winter-time when they are starving and the ground'scovered with snow; and this is summer, and they have no reason forcoming down from the mountains. "

"Oh, I say, " exclaimed the boy, "haven't they just!"

"Will you hold your tongue, Punch!" cried Pen angrily. "This is a niceway to prepare ourselves for a tramp over the mountains, isn't it?"

"Are we going to tramp over the mountains in the night?" said the boyrather dolefully. 

"Yes, and be glad of the opportunity to get farther away from the Frenchbefore morning. "

"But won't it be very bad for your leg, comrade?"

"No worse than it will be for your back, Punch. "

"But wouldn't it be better if we had a good rest to-night?"

"Where?" said Pen bluntly. 

"In some goat-keeper's cottage. We saw goats before we came here, andthere must be people who keep them. "

"Perhaps so, " said Pen; "but I have seen no cottages. "

"We ain't looked, " said Punch. 

"No, and I don't think it would be very wise to look for them in thedark. Come, Punch, don't be a coward. "

"I ain't one; but I can't stand going tramping about in these mountainswith those horrid beasts hunting you, smelling you out and following youwherever you go. "

"I don't believe they would dare to come near us if we shouted at them, "said Pen firmly; "and we needn't be satisfied with that, for if theycame near and we fired at them they would never come near us again. "

"Yes, we have got the guns, " said the boy; and he unslung the one hecarried and began to try the charge with the ramrod. "Hadn't you bettersee if yours is all right too?" he said. 

"Perhaps I had, " was the reply, "for we might have to use them forbusiness that had nothing to do with wolves. "

As he spoke, Pen followed his comrade's example, driving the cartridgeand bullet well home, and then feeling whether the powder was up in thepan. 

"Oh, I say, " cried the boy huskily, "there they go again! They'recoming down from high up the mountains. Hadn't we better go lower downand try and find some cottage?"

"I don't think so, " said Pen sturdily. 

"But we might find one, you know--an empty one, just the same as we didbefore, when my back was so bad. Then we could shut ourselves in andlaugh at the wolves if they came. "

"We don't want to laugh at the wolves, " said Pen jocularly. "And itmight make them savage. I know I used to have a dog and I could alwaysput him in a rage by laughing at him and calling him names. "

"And now you are laughing at me. I can't help it. I am ashamedperhaps; but, knowing what I do about the wolves, and what our chapshave seen--Ugh! It's horrid! There they go again. Let's get lowerdown. "

"To where the French are lying in camp, so that they may get hold of usagain? Nonsense, Punch! What was the good of our slipping away if itwas only to give ourselves up?"

"But we didn't know then that we should run up against these wolves. "

"We are not going to run up against them, Punch, but they are going torun away from us if we behave like men. "

"But, don't you see, I can't behave like a man when I'm only a boy? Oh, there they go again!" half-whispered the poor fellow, who seemedthoroughly unnerved. "Come along, there's a good chap. "

"No, " said Pen firmly. "You can't behave like a man, but you can behavelike a brave boy, and that's what you are going to do. If we ever getback to our company you wouldn't like me to tell the lads that you wereso frightened by the howling of the wolves that you let me go on aloneto face them, and--"

"Here, I say, " cried Punch excitedly, "you don't mean to say that youwould go on alone!"

"I mean to say I would, " said Pen firmly; "but I shall not have to, because you are coming on along with me. "

"No, I ain't, " said the boy stubbornly. 

"Yes, you are. "

"You don't know, " continued the boy, through his set teeth. "Hanged ifI do--so there!"

Pen laughed bitterly. 

"Well, you are a queer fellow, Punch, " he said. "You stood by meyesterday and faced dozens of those French chasseurs, and fought till wehad fired off our last cartridge, and then set-to to keep them off withthe butt of your musket, though you were quite sure they would come onagain and again. "

"Perhaps I did, " said the boy huskily, "because I felt I ought to as asoldier, and it was dooty; but 'tain't a soldier's dooty to get torn topieces by wolves. Ugh! It's horrid, and I can't bear it. "

"Come on, Punch. I am going. "

"No, don't! I say, pray don't, comrade!" cried the boy passionately;and he caught at Pen's arm and clung to it with all his might. "I tellyou I'd shoulder arms, keep touch with you, and keep step and marchstraight up to a regiment of the French, with the bullets flying allabout our ears. I wouldn't show the white once till I dropped. Youknow I'd be game if it was obeying orders, and all our fellows coming onbehind. I tell you I would, as true as true!"

"What!" said Pen, turning upon him firmly, "you would do that if youwere ordered?"

"That I would, and I wouldn't flinch a bit. You know I never did, "cried the boy passionately. "Didn't I always double beside mycompany-leader, and give the calls whenever I was told?"

"Yes; and now I am going to be your company-leader to-night. Now then, my lad, forward!"

Pen jerked his arm free and stepped off at once, while his comradestaggered with the violence of the thrust he had received. Then, recovering himself, he stood fast, struggling with the stubborn ragethat filled his young breast, till Pen was a dozen paces in front, marching sturdily on in the direction of the howls that they had heard, and without once looking back. 

Then from out of the silence came the boy's voice. 

"You'll be sorry for this, " he shouted. 

Pen made no reply. 

"Oh, it's too bad of him, " muttered Punch. "I say, " he shouted, "youwill be sorry for this, comrade. D'ye 'ear?"

Tramp, tramp, tramp went Pen's feet over the stony ground. 

"Oh, I say, comrade, this is too bad!" whimpered the boy; and then, giving his musket one or two angry slaps as if in an exaggerated salute, he shouldered the piece and marched steadily after his leader. 

Pen halted till the boy closed up, and then started again. 

"There, Punch, " he said quietly, "I knew you better than you knowyourself. "

The boy made no reply, but marched forward with his teeth set; andevidently now thoroughly strung-up to meet anything that was in store, he stared straight before him into the darkness and paid no heed to thedistant howls that floated to them upon the night-air from time to time. 

CHAPTER FORTY. 

FRIENDS OR FOES?

"This is rather hard work, Punch, lad, " said Pen, after a long silence;but the boy took no notice. "The ground's so rugged that I've nearlygone down half-a-dozen times. Well, haven't you anything to say?"

The boy kept his teeth firmly pressed together and marched on insilence; and the night tramp went on for quite a couple of hours, till, growing wearied out by the boy's determination, Pen began again to tryand break the icy reserve between them. 

"What a country this is!" he said. "To think of our going on hour afterhour never once seeing a sign of any one's dwelling-place. Ah, look atthat!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Do you see that light?"

"Yes, " said Punch sulkily, "a wolf's eye staring at us. "

"Then he's got one shut, " said Pen, laughing softly. "I can only seeone. Why, you are thinking of nothing else but wolves. It's a littlewatch-fire far away. "

Punch lowered his piece quickly and cocked it. 

"Look out, comrade, " he said, "some one will challenge directly. Dropdown together, don't us, if he does?"

"I don't think they will be sentries right up here, " said Pen. 

"What then?"

"Shepherds, " replied Pen abruptly. 

He was about to add, "to keep off the wolves, " but he checked himself intime, as he half-laughed and thought that it would scare his companionagain. 

Punch remained silent and marched on, keeping step, till they weregetting very close to a tiny scrap of a smouldering fire; and then therewas a rush of feet as if about a couple of dozen goats had beenstartled, to spring up and scatter away, with their horny hoofspattering amongst the stones; and at the same moment the two lads becameaware of the fact that after their habit the sturdy little animals hadbeen sleeping around a couple of fierce-looking, goatskin-clothed, half-savage Spanish goat-herds, one of whom kicked at the fire, makingit burst into a temporary blaze which lit up their swarthy features andflashed in their eyes, and, what was more startling still, on the bladesof the two long knives which they snatched from their belts. 

"_Amigos, amigos_!" cried Pen, and he grounded arms, Punch following hisexample. 

"_Amigos! No, Franceses_, " shouted one of the men, as the fire burnt upmore brightly; and he pointed at Pen's musket. 

"_No_, " cried Pen, "_Ingleses_. " And laying down his piece near thefire, he coolly seated himself and began to warm his hands. "Come on, Punch, " he said, "sit down; and give me your haversack. "

The boy obeyed, and as the two men looked at them doubtingly Pen tookthe haversack, held it out, thrust his hand within two or three times, and shook his head before pointing to his lips and making signs as if hewanted to eat. 

"_El pano, agua_, " he said. 

The men turned to gaze into each other's eyes as if in doubt, and thenbegan slowly to thrust their long, sharp knives into their belts; and itproved directly afterwards that Pen's pantomime had been sufficientlygood, for one of them strode away into the darkness, where the ladscould make out a sort of wind-shade of piled-up stones, from which hereturned directly afterwards with what proved to be a goatskin-bag, which he carried to his companion, and then went off again, to returnfrom somewhere behind the stones, carrying a peculiar-looking earthenjar, which proved to be filled with water. 

Just then Punch drew the two muskets a little farther from the fire, andto Pen's surprise took off his jacket and carefully covered their locks. 

"Afraid of the damp, " muttered Pen to himself; and then he smiled up inthe face of the fiercer-looking of the two goat-herds as the man placeda cake of coarse-looking bread in his hands and afterwards turned outfrom the bag a couple of large onions, to which he added a smallbullock's horn whose opening was stopped with a ball of goatskin. 

"_Bueno, bueno_!" said Pen, taking the food which was offered to himwith the grave courtesy of a gentleman; and, not to be outdone, he tookthe hand that gave and lightly raised it to his lips. The act ofcourtesy seemed to melt all chilling reserve, and the two men hurried tothrow some heather-like twigs upon the fire, which began to burn upbrightly, emitting a pleasant aromatic smoke. Then, seating themselves, the more fierce-looking of the pair pointed to the bread and held up thejar so that they could drink. 

"_Amigos, amigos_!" he said softly; and he took the jar in turn, drankto the lads, and gravely set it down between them; and then as Pen brokebread Punch started violently, for each of the men drew out his knife, and the boy's hand was stretched out towards the muskets, but withdrawndirectly as he realised the meaning of the unsheathed knives, each ofthe goat-herds snatching up one of the onions and beginning to peel itfor the guests, before hastening to stick the point of his knife intothe vegetable and hand both to their visitors. 

"They scared me, " said Punch. "I say, don't the onions smell good!Want a bit of salt, though. "

He had hardly said the word before the taller of the two men caught upthe horn, drew out the ball-like wad which closed it up, and revealedwithin a reddish-looking powder which glistened in the light of the fireand proved to be rock-salt. 

It was a very rough and humble meal, but Punch expressed his companion'sfeelings when he said it was 'lishus. 

"Worth coming for--eh, Punch?" said Pen, "and risking the wolves. "

"Here, I say, drop that, comrade. Don't be hard on a fellow. One can'thelp having one's feelings. But I say, you looked half-scared too whenthese two Spaniards whipped out their knives. "

"I was more than half, Punch. But it was the same with them; theylooked startled enough when we came upon them suddenly with our musketsand woke them out of sleep. "

"Yes; they thought we was Frenchies till you showed them we wasfriends. "

It was a rough but savoury meal, and wonderfully picturesque too, forthe fire burned up briskly, shedding a bright light upon their hosts intheir rough goatskin clothes, as they sat looking on as if pleased andamused at Punch's voracity, while now the herd of goats that hadscampered away into the darkness recovered from their panic and cameslowly back one by one, to form a circle round the fire, where theystood, long-horned, shaggy, and full-bearded, looking in the half-lightlike so many satyrs of the classic times, blinking their eyes andwatching the little feast as if awaiting their time to be invited tojoin in. 

"I say, " said Pen suddenly, "that was very thoughtful and right of you, Punch, to cover over the muskets; but you had better put your jacket onagain. These puffs of air that come down from the mountains blow verycold; when the fire flames up it seems to burn one cheek, while the windblows on the other and feels quite icy. There's no chance of any dampmaking the locks rusty. Put on your jacket, lad; put on your jacket. "

"That I don't, " said the boy, in a half-whisper. "Who thought anythingabout dew or damp?"

"Why, you did. "

"Not likely, with the guns so close to the fire. Did you think I meantthat?"

"Why, of course. "

"Nonsense! I didn't want these Spaniels to take notice of them. "

"I don't understand you, Punch. "

"Why, didn't you tell them we was English?"

"Of course. "

"And at the same time, " said Punch, "put a couple of French muskets downbefore them, and us with French belts and cartridge-boxes on us all thetime?"

"Oh, they wouldn't have noticed that. "

"I don't know, " said Punch. "These are rough-looking chaps, but theyare not fools; and the French have knocked them about so that they hatethem and feel ready to give them the knife at the slightest chance. "

"Well, there's no harm in being particular, Punch; but I don't thinkthey will doubt us. "

"Well, I don't doubt them, " said Punch. "What a jolly supper! I feeljust like a new man. But won't it be a pity to leave here and go on themarch again? You know, I can't help it, comrade; I shall begin thinkingabout the wolves again as soon as we start off into the darkness. Hadn't we better lie down here and go to sleep till daylight?"

"I don't know, " said Pen thoughtfully. "These men have been veryfriendly to us, but we are quite strangers, and if they doubt our beingwhat we said ours would be a very awkward position if we went off tosleep. Could you go off to sleep and trust them?"

"Deal sooner trust them than the wolves, comrade, " said Punch, yawningviolently, an act which was so infectious that it made his companionyawn too. 

"How tiresome!" he exclaimed, "You make me sleepy, and if we don't jumpup and start at once we shall never get off. "

"Well then, don't, " said Punch appealingly. "Let's risk it, comrade. These two wouldn't be such brutes as to use their knives on us when wewere asleep. Look here! What do they mean now?"

For the two goat-herds came and patted them on the shoulders and signedto them to get up and follow. 

"Why, they want us to go along with them, comrade, " said the boy, picking up the two muskets. 

"Here, ketch hold, in case they mean mischief. Why, they don't want totake us into the dark so that the goats shouldn't see the murder, dothey?"

"I am going to do what you suggested, Punch, " replied Pen, "risk it, "and he followed their two hosts to the rough-looking stone shelter whichkept off the wind and reflected the warmth of the fire. 

Here they drew out a couple of tightly rolled-up skin-rugs, and madesigns that the lads should take them. No words were spoken, the men'sintention was plainly enough expressed; and a very short time afterwardseach lad was lying down in the angle of the rough wall, snugly rolled inhis skin-rug, with a French musket for companion; and to both it seemedas if only a few minutes had elapsed before they were gazing across abeautiful valley where mists were rising, wreath after wreath ofhalf-transparent vapour, shot with many colours by the rays of therising sun. 

CHAPTER FORTY ONE. 

BOOTS OR BOOTY?

"There, Punch, " said Pen, rising; "you didn't dream, did you, that ourfriends crept up with their knives in the night to make an end of you?"

"No, " cried the boy excitedly, as he turned to gaze after the men, whowere some little distance away amongst the goats, "I didn't dream it. It was real. First one of them and then the other did come with hisknife in his hand; but I cocked my musket, and they sneaked off againand pretended that they wanted to see to the fire. "

"And what then?" said Pen. 

"Well, there wasn't no what then, " replied the boy, "and I must havegone to sleep. "

"That was all a dream, I believe, Punch; and I suppose you had anotherdream or two about the wolves?"

"Yes, that was a dream. Yes, it must have been. No, it was more a bitof fancy, for I half-woke up and saw the fire shining on a whole droveof the savage beasts; but I soon made out that they weren't wolves, because wolves don't have horns. So it was the goats. I say, lookhere. Those two chaps have been milking. They don't mean it for us, dothey?"

The coming of the two goat-herds soon proved that they were hospitablybent, and the lads agreed between themselves that there were far worsebreakfasts than black-bread cake and warm goat's-milk. 

This ended, a difficult task had to be mastered, and that was to try andobtain information such as would enable the two questioners to learn thewhereabouts of the British troops. 

But it proved to be easier than might have been supposed. 

To Pen's surprise he learned all he wanted by the use of threewords--_soldado, Frances_, and _Ingles_--with the addition of a gooddeal of gesticulation. 

For, their breakfast ended, the two lads stood with their hosts, and Penpatted his own breast and that of his companion, and then touched theirmuskets and belts. 

"_Soldado_, " he said. "_Soldado_. "

The fiercer-looking of the two goat-herds caught his meaning directly, and touched them both in turn upon the breast before repeating the word_soldado_ (soldier). 

"That's all right, Punch, " said Pen. "I have made him understand thatwe are soldiers. "

"Tchah!" said Punch scornfully. "These Spaniels ain't fools. Theyknowed that without you telling them. "

"Never mind, " said Pen. "Let me have my own way, unless you would liketo do it. "

"No, thank you, " replied the boy, shrinking back, while Pen now turnedand pointed in the direction where he believed the French troops lay. 

"_Soldado Frances_?" he said in a questioning tone; and the man noddedquickly, caught hold of the lad's pointing arm, and pressed it a littleto one side, as if to show him that he had not quite located theirenemies correctly. 

"_Soldado Frances_!" he said, showing his white teeth in a smile; andthen his face changed and he drew his knife. "_Soldado Frances_, " hesaid fiercely. 

Pen nodded, and signed to the man to replace his knife. 

"So far, so good, Punch, " said Pen. "I don't know how we are going toget on about the next question. "

But again the task proved perfectly easy, for, laying his hand upon thegoat-herd's arm, he repeated the words "_Soldado Ingles_. "

"_Si_, " said the man directly; and he patted the lad on his shoulder. "_Soldado Ingles_. "

"Yes, that's all right, " said Pen; "but, now then, look here, " Andpointing with his hand to a spot higher up the mountain, he repeated thetwo Spanish words with a questioning tone: "_Soldado Ingles_?"

The man looked at him blankly, and Pen pointed in another direction, repeating his question, and then again away down a far-reaching valleylying westward of where they stood. 

And now the Spaniard's face lit up as if he fully grasped the meaning ofthe question. 

"_Si, si, si_!" he cried, nodding quickly and pointing right away intothe distant valley. "_Soldado Ingles! Soldado Ingles_!" he cried. "_Muchos_, _muchos_. " And then, thoroughly following the meaning of thelad's questions, he cried excitedly, as he pointed away down the valley, where an occasional flash of light suggested the presence of a river, "_Soldado Ingles, muchos, muchos_. " And then he tapped the musket andbelts and repeated his words again and again as he pointed away into thedistance. 

"_Bravo amigo_!" cried Pen. --"There, Punch, I don't think there's adoubt of it. The British forces lie somewhere over there. "

"Then if the British forces lie over there, " cried Punch, almostpompously, "that's where the --th lies, for they always go first. Why, we shall be at home again to-night if we have luck. My word, won't thechaps give us a hooroar when we march into camp? For, of course, theythink we are dead! You listen what old O'Grady says. You see if hedon't say, `Well done, me boys! Ye are welkim as the flures of May. ' Isay, ask him how many miles it is to where our fellows lie. "

"No, Punch, you do it. "

"No, I ain't going to try. "

"Well, look here; these men have been very good to us, and we ought toshow that we are grateful. How is it to be done?"

"I don't know, " said Punch. "We ain't got no money, have we?"

"Not a _peseta_, Punch. But I tell you what will please them. You mustgive them your knife. "

"Give them my knife! Likely! Why, it's the best bit of stuff that wasever made. I wouldn't take a hundred pounds for it. "

"Well, no one will offer it to you, Punch, and you are not asked to sellit. I ask you to give it to them to pay for what they have done forus. "

"But give my knife! I wouldn't. --Oh, well, all right. You know best, and if you think we ought to give it to them, there you are. --Good-bye, old sharper! I am very sorry to part with you all the same. "

"Never mind, Punch. I'll give you a better one some day. "

"Some day never comes, " said the boy grumpily. "But I know you will ifyou can. "

Pen took the knife, and, eager to get the matter over, he stepped towhere the bigger goat-herd stood watching them, and opened and shut thebig clasp-knife, picked up a piece of wood, and showed how keen theblade was, the man watching him curiously the while; and then Pen closedit and placed it in the man's hand. 

The Spaniard looked at him curiously for a moment, as if not quitegrasping his meaning. 

"_Por usted_, " said Pen; and the man nodded and smiled, but shook hishead and gave him the knife back. 

"Hooroar! He won't have it, " cried Punch. 

Pen pressed it upon the man again, and Punch groaned; but the manrejected it, once more thrusting the knife back with both hands, andthen laughingly pointed down to Pen's boots. 

"What does he mean by that, Punch?" cried Pen. 

"Haw, haw, haw, haw!" laughed the boy. "He wants you to give him yourboots. "

"Nonsense!"

"Here, give us hold of my knife. Hooroar! Sharper, I have got youagain! But he sha'n't have your boots; he shall have mine, andwelcome. --Look here, my cock Spaniel, " continued the boy excitedly, ashe pocketed his knife, and dropping himself on the ground he began tounfasten his boots. But the man shook his head and signed to him thatthey would not do, pointing again and again to Pen's. "No, no; youcan't have them. These are better. You can have them and welcome. "

But there was a difference of opinion, the Spaniard persisting in hisdemand for the pair that had taken his fancy. 

"Here, I didn't think he was such a fool, " cried Punch. "These are thebest;" and the boy thrust off his boots and held them out to the man, who still shook his head violently. 

"No, no, Punch, " said Pen, who had quickly followed his companion'sexample; and he drew off his own boots and held them to the man, whoseized them joyfully, showing them with a look of triumph to his fellow. "There, put yours on again, Punch. "

"Not me, " said the boy. "Think I'm going to tramp in boots and let youtramp over the rocks barefoot? Blest if I do; so there! Here, you putthem on. "

"Not I, " said Pen. "I don't believe they would fit me. "

"Yes, they would. I do know that. You are years older than I am, butmy feet's quite as big as yours; so now then. I tried yours when youwas asleep one night, and they fitted me exactly, so of course these'ere will fit you. Here, catch hold. "

Pen turned away so decisively that the boy stood scowling; but a thoughtstruck him, and with a look of triumph he turned to the younger of thetwo goat-herds. 

"Here you are, cocky, " he cried; and to the man's keen delight Punchthrust the pair of boots into his hands and gave him a hearty slap onthe back. "It's all right, comrade, " cried the boy. "Foots soon getshard when you ain't got no shoes. Nature soles and heels them with herown leather. Lots of our chaps have chucked their boots away, and don'tmind a bit. There was plenty of foots in the world, me boy, beforethere was any brogues. I heered O'Grady say that one day to one of ourchaps who had had his boots stolen. I say, what are they going to do?"

This soon became evident, for the elder goat-herd, on seeing that thelads were about to start in the direction of the valley, pressed uponPen a goatskin-bag which he took from a corner of the shelter, itscontents being a couple of bread-cakes, a piece of cheese like driedbrown leather, about a dozen onions, and the horn of salt. 

"Come along, Punch, " cried Pen cheerily. "They have given us a _quidpro quo_ at all events. "

"Have they?" cried Punch eagerly. "Take care of it then. I have oftenlonged for a bit when I felt so horribly hungry. Old O'Grady told meover and over again that a chew of 'bacco is splendid when you ain't gotnothing to eat; so we will just try. "

"What are you talking about?" said Pen, as they marched along themountain-slope like some one of old who "went delicately, " for the waywas stony, and Nature had not had time to commence the promised soleingand heeling process. 

"What was I talking about? You said they'd slipped some 'bacco into thebag. "

"Nonsense!" cried Pen. 

"I swear you did. You said quid something. "

"I said a few Latin words that sounded like it. "

"Well, look ye here, comrade; don't do it again. Latin was all verywell for that old _padre_--good old chap! Bless his bald head! Regulartrump he was! And parlyvooing was all very well for Mr Contrabando;but plain English for Bob Punchard, sivvy play, as we say in French. "

CHAPTER FORTY TWO. 

FRIEND AND ENEMY. 

The two lads started off light-hearted and hopeful, for if they couldtrust the goat-herds, whose information seemed to be perfectly correct, a day's journey downward to the river in the valley, though seeming fardistant, must bring them pretty near the goal they sought--in otherwords, the headquarters of the army that had crossed over from Portugalinto Spain to drive back the French usurper, the task having been givento England's most trusted General, Wellesley, who was in time to comealways to be better known as Wellington. 

Thanks to the goat-herds, the lads were well provisioned for a day; butat the same time, and again thanks to their hosts of the past night, they were sadly crippled for their task. 

It was not long before they began to feel how badly they were equipped, for the principal production of the part of the country they traversedseemed to be stones, from the smallest sharp-cornered pebble up to hugeblocks half the size of a house. But for hours they trudged onsturdily, chatting cheerfully at first, then growing silent, and thenmaking remarks which were started by Punch. 

"Say, comrade, " he said, "is Spain what they call a civilised country?"

"Yes, and one of the most famous in Europe; at least, it used to be. "

"Ah, used to be!" said Punch sharply. "Used. 'Tain't now. I don'tcall a place civilised where they have got roads like this. "

"Yes, it is rough, " said Pen. 

"Rough! Rough ain't the word for it, " grumbled Punch. "If we go onmuch farther like this I shall wear my feet to the bone. Ain't it timewe sat down and had a bit of dinner?"

"No, " replied Pen. "We will sit down and rest if you like, but we musttry and husband our provisions so as to make them last over tillto-morrow night. "

"What's to-morrow night got to do with it? We ought to be along withthe British army by to-night; and what's husbands got to do with it? Weare not going to share our prog with anybody else, and if it's husbands, how do we know they won't bring their wives? Bother! You will betelling me they are going to bring all their kids next. "

"Is that meant for a joke, Punch? Let's go a little farther first. Come along, step out. "

"Step out indeed!" grumbled the boy. "I stepped out first thing--rightout of my boots. I say, comrade, oughtn't the soles of our feet tobegin to get hard by now?"

"Don't talk about it, Punch. "

"Oh, you can feel it too? If it's like this now, what's it going to beby to-night? I did not know that it was going to be so bad. If I had, blest if that goat-stalker should have had my boots! I'd have keptthem, and shared them--one apiece--and every now and then we could havechanged foots. It would have been better then, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know, Punch. Don't think about it. Let's go on till we get tothe first spring, and then rest and bathe our feet. "

"All right. "

The boys kept on their painful walk for another hour; and then, thespring being found, they rested and bathed their tender soles, partookof a portion of their provisions, and went on again. 

That night the river seemed to be as far off as ever, and as theysettled upon a sheltered spot for their night's rest, and ate theirspare supper, Punch hazarded the remark that they shouldn't overtake thearmy the next day. Pen was more hopeful, and that night they fellasleep directly, with Punch quite forgetful of the wolves. 

The morning found the travellers better prepared for the continuance oftheir journey, and they toiled on painfully, slept for another night ina patch of forest, and started off at the first blink of dawn so as toreach the river, which was now flowing swiftly westward on their left. 

Their provisions were finished, all but a scrap of the bread which wasso hard that they were glad to soak it in the river; but in spite oftheir pain they walked on more bravely, their sufferings beingalleviated by the water, which was now always on their left, and down towhose bubbling surface they descended from time to time. 

"I say, " said Punch, all at once, "I hope those chaps were right, because we have come a long way, and I can't see no sign of the army. You must have patience, Punch. "

"All right; but it's nearly all used up. I say, look here, do you thinkthe army will be this side of the river?"

"Can't say, Punch. --I hope so. "

"But suppose it's the other side. How are you going to get across? Arewe likely to come to a town and a bridge?"

"No; we are too far away up in the mountains. But I dare say we shallbe able to find a ford where we can cross. "

"Oh!" said Punch thoughtfully; and they journeyed on, beginning tosuffer now from hunger in addition to weariness and pain; and just aboutmidday, when the heat of the sun was beating down strongly in the rivervalley, Punch limped off painfully to where an oak-tree spread its shadyboughs, and threw himself prone. 

"It's all up, comrade, " he said. "Can't go no farther. "

"No, no; don't give way, " said Pen, who felt painfully disposed tofollow his companion's example. "Get well into the shade and have a fewhours' sleep. It will be cooler by-and-by, and we shall get on betterafter a rest. There, try and go to sleep. "

"Who's to sleep with a pair of red-hot feet and an empty cupboard? Ican't, " said Punch. And he took hold of his ankles, drew them up, andsat Chinese-tumbler fashion, rocking himself to and fro; while with aweary sigh Pen sank down beside him and sat gazing into the sunnydistance. 

"Couldn't we get over to the other side?" said Punch at last. "It's allrocks and stones and rough going this side, and all green and meadowlikeover the other. Can you swim?"

"Yes, pretty well, " said Pen; "but I should be too tired to try. "

"So can I, pretty tidy. I am tired, but not too tired to try. Let'sjust rest a bit, and then swim across. It runs pretty fast, but 'tain'tfar, and if it carried us some way down, all the better. "

"Very well, after a bit I don't mind if we try, " said Pen; "but I mustrest first. "

Then the boys were silent for a time, for Punch, whose eyes werewandering as he scanned the distance of the verdant undulating slope onthe other side of the river, suddenly burst out with: "Yes, we hadbetter get across, for our chaps are sure to be on the other side of theriver. "

"Why?" said Pen drowsily. 

"'Cause we are this. Soldiering always seems to be going by the rulesof contrary; and--there!" cried the boy excitedly, "what did I tell you?There they are!"

"What, our men? Where?" cried Pen excitedly. 

"Right over yonder, a mile away. "

"I can see nothing. "

"You don't half look, " cried Punch angrily, bending forward, nursing histender feet and staring wildly into the distance. "I ketched sight of abit of scarlet ever so far off, and that must mean Bri'sh soldiers. "

"No; it might be something painted red--or a patch of poppies perhaps. "

"Oh, go it!" cried Punch angrily. "You will say next it is a jerryniumin a red pot, same as my mother always used to have in her window. It'sred-coats, I tell you. There, can't you see them?"

"No. "

"Tchah! You are not looking right. Look yonder--about a mile away fromthe top of that hill just to the right of that bit of a wood. Now, doyou see?"

"No, " said Pen slowly. "Yes, I do--men marching. Do you see that flashin the sunlight. Bayonets! Punch, you are right!"

"Ah!" said the boy. "Now then, what do you say to a swim across?"

"Yes, I am ready, " said Pen. "How far is it, do you think?"

"About a hundred yards, " replied the boy. "Oh, we ought to do thateasy. You see, it will be only paddle at first, and then wade till youget up to your chest, and then swim. Perhaps we sha'n't have to swim atall. Rough rivers like this are always shallow. When you are ready Iam. We sha'n't have to take off our shoes and stockings; and if we getvery wet, well, we can wring our clothes, and they will soon dry in thesun. Look sharp and give the word. I am ready for anything with theBritish army in sight. "

There was no hesitation now. The lads took the precaution of securingtheir cartouche-boxes between the muzzle of their pieces and the ramrod;and, keeping the muskets still slung so that at any moment they couldlet them drop loose to hang from the shoulder, they stepped carefullydown amongst the stones until the pleasantly cool water began to foamabove their feet, and then waded carefully on till they were knee-deepand began to feel the pressure of the water against their legs. 

"Ain't going to be deep, " said Punch cheerily. "Don't it feel nice toyour toddlers? How fast it runs, though! Why, if it was deep enough toswim in it would carry you along faster than you could walk. It strikesme that we shall get across without having it up to one's waistbelt. "

The boy seemed pretty correct in his judgment, for as they carefullywaded on--carefully, for the bottom was very uneven--they were nearlyhalf across, and still the water was not so deep as the boy hadprophesied. 

"There! What did I tell you?" he said; and then with his next step hecaught at his companion's hand and went down to his chin. 

The result was that Pen lost his balance, and the pair, half-struggling, half-swimming for about a dozen yards, were carried swiftly along towhere a patch of rock showed itself in mid-stream with the water foamingall around. 

They were swept right round against the rocks, and found bottomdirectly, struggling up, with the swift stream only now to their knees. 

"What a hole!" cried Pen, panting a little with his exertions. "I say, you must take care, Punch. "

"Oh yes, I will take care, " said the boy, puffing and choking. "I don'tknow how much water I have swallowed. But it's all shallow now, and weare half-over. How about your cartridges? Mine's all wet. "

"Then I suppose mine are too, " said Pen. 

"Never mind, " cried Punch cheerfully. "Perhaps they will be all rightif we lay them out to dry in the sun. Now then, are you ready? Itlooks as if it will be all shallow the rest of the way. "

"I sha'n't trust it, " said Pen, "so let's keep hold of hands. "

They started again, yielding a little to the stream, and wadingdiagonally for the bank on Punch's left, but making very slow progress, for Pen noted that the water, which was rough and shallow where theywere, seemed to flow calmly and swiftly onward a short distance away, and was evidently deep. 

"Steady! Steady!" cried Pen, hanging away a little towards the bankfrom which they had started. 

"All right; I am steady enough, only one can't do as one likes. It'sjust as if all the water was pushing behind. Ah! Look out, comrade!"

Pen was already looking out, and he had need, for once more hiscompanion had stepped as it were off a shelf into deep water, and thenext moment, still grasping Punch's hand with all his might, he wasstriking out; and then together they were being borne rapidly down bythe stream. 

CHAPTER FORTY THREE. 

FRESH COMRADES. 

Pen never could quite settle in his own mind how it all happened. Hewas conscious of the rush of water and the foam bubbling against hislips, while he clung tightly to his companion till they were sweptagainst rocks, borne into eddies, whirled round now beneath the surface, now gasping for breath as darkness was turned into light; then feelingas if they were being dragged over rough pieces of rock that were slimywith weed as he caught at them with one hand, and then, still clingingto Punch, who clung to him, they were being carried slowly over ashallow patch where the water raced beside their ears, till at last hestruggled out, half-blind and dizzy, to find himself alone, with the sunbeating hotly upon his head. 

He was giddy, breathless, confused in his excitement, as he pressed thewater from his eyes; and then he uttered a cry, for about twenty yardsfrom where he stood, with the water barely up to his ankles, he couldsee Punch lying upon his face, gradually gliding away towards the spotwhere the stream was beginning to run smooth and deep. 

He could recall this part of his adventure, though, well enough: how hestaggered and splashed to the place, where he could catch hold of theboy, and turn him over before getting hold of his belt and dragging himright out of the river on to the sandy bank where it was hot and dry. 

And then he could recall how a great despair came upon him, and he knelthelplessly gazing down at his comrade, with the horrible feeling uponhim that he was dead. 

Then all was misty again. The river was running onward with a swiftrush towards its mouth, and he was conscious that he was safe upon thebank from which he had started. Then he knew that he must have swoonedaway, and lay, for how long he could not tell; but the next thing thathe remembered clearly was that he opened his eyes to see Punch bendingover him and rocking him to and fro according to the drill instructionsthey had both learned as to how to deal with a fellow-soldier who hasbeen half-drowned. 

"Oh, Punch, " he cried, in a voice that sounded to him like a hoarsewhisper, "I thought you were dead!"

The boy was blubbering as if his heart would break, and it was somemoments before he half-sobbed and half-whimpered out, "Why, you couldn'thave done that, because it's what I was thinking about you. But, I say, comrade, you are all right, aren't you?"

"I--I suppose so, " gasped Pen. 

"Oh, don't talk like that, " sobbed the boy. 

"This 'ere's the worst of all. Do say as you are coming round. Why, you must be, or else you couldn't talk. But, I say, did you save me, ordid I save you? Blest if I know! And here we are on the wrong sideafter all! What's to be done now?"

"Wring our clothes, I suppose, Punch, " said Pen wearily, "or lie downand rest without. "

"Well, I feel as if I should like to do that, " said Punch. "This 'eresand is hot and dry enough to make us steam. I say, comrade, " hecontinued, wiping his eyes and speaking in a piteous tone, "don't youtake no notice of me and the water squeezing out of my eyes. I am sofull of it that it's running out. But we are all right, comrade. I wasbeginning to think you had gone and left me all alone. But I say, this'ere's a nice place, this Spain! Here, what's the matter with you?"continued Punch excitedly. "Don't turn like that, choking and pynting. Oh, this 'ere's worse still! He's in a blessed fit!"

He had seized Pen by the shoulders now, and began shaking him violently, till Pen began to struggle with him, forced him aside, and then pointingacross the river, he gasped out, "Cavalry! Look, look!"

The boy swung himself round, one hand felt for his musket, the other athis belt, where the bayonet should have been, for the word cavalrysuggested to him preparations for receiving a charge. 

Then, following the direction of his companion's pointing hand, he fullygrasped what was meant, for coming down the slope across the river werea couple of English light dragoons, who had caught sight of the twofigures on the opposite bank. 

The men were approaching cautiously, each with his carbine at the ready, and for the moment it seemed as if the vedette were about to place thelives of the two lads in fresh peril. But as they drew nearer the boysrose and shouted; though the rushing noise of the river drowned theirwords. 

As the boys continued to gesticulate, the men began to grasp the factthat they had been in the water, and what they were, for one of thembegan pointing along the stream and waving his hand, as he shouted againand again. 

"Can't--understand--what--you--say!" yelled Punch; and then putting hishand to his lips, he shouted with all his might, "English! Help!"

The word "help" evidently reached the ears of one of the dragoons, for, rising in his stirrups, he waved the hand that held his carbine andpointed downstream, yelling out something again. 

"I don't know, comrade, " cried Punch dolefully. "I think it was `Comeon!'"

"I know now, " cried Pen. "It was `ford. '"

Then the drenched, exhausted pair staggered on over the dry sand, whichsuggested that at times the river must be twice its present width; andthe vedette guided their horses carefully on amongst the stones of thefarther bank, till, a few hundred yards lower down, where the river wasclear of obstructions and ran swiftly on in a regular ripple, the twohorses turned right and paced gently down into the water, which, half-way to their knees, splashed up as they made for the opposite bank, which the lads reached at the same time as the vedette. 

"Why, hallo, my lads! We couldn't make out what you were. The --th, aren't you?"

"Yes. "

"What! Have you been in the river?"

"Yes, tried to cross--'most drowned, " said Punch hoarsely. 

"You should have come down to this ford. Where are you for?"

"Our corps, when we can find it, " said Pen. 

"Oh, that's all right; about two miles away. Come on. "

"Not me!" said Punch sturdily. "I have had enough of it. "

"What do you mean?" said the other dragoon who had not spoken. "Afraidto cross?"

"Yes, that's it, " said Punch. "So would you be if you had had my dose. I'm nearly full of water now. "

"Well, you look it, " said the first dragoon, laughing. "Here, take holdof our stirrup-leathers. We will take you across all right. "

Punch hesitated. 

"Shall we risk it, comrade?" he said. 

"Yes, of course. "

And Punch limped painfully to the side of the second dragoon, while Pentook hold of the stirrup-leather of the first. 

"Here, I say, this won't do, " said the man, as their horses' hoofs sankin the hot, dry sand of the other side. "Why, you are both regularlyknocked up. --Dismount!" he cried, and he and his companion dropped fromtheir saddles. "There, my lads, mount. You can ride the rest of theway. Hallo! Limping?" he continued. "What does that mean? Footsore, or a wound?"

"Wound, " said Pen quietly. "My comrade, there, has been worse than I. How far do you say it is to the camp?"

"A couple of miles; but we will see you there safe. How have you beenoff for rations?"

Pen told him, and an end was put to their famishing state by a surpriseof the dragoons' haversacks. 

About half an hour later the led horses entered the camp, and the boy'shearts were gladdened by the cheery notes of a cavalry call. 

"Ah, " whispered Punch, as he leaned over from his seat in the saddle towhisper to Pen, "that seems to do a fellow's heart good, comrade. But'tain't so good as a bugle. If I could hear that again I should be justmyself. "

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. 

BEFORE THE AQUILINE. 

Three days in the English camp, and the two lads had pretty wellrecovered; but they were greatly disappointed to find that during theabsence of the dragoons on vedette duty the --th and another regimenthad been despatched for a reconnoitring expedition, so that the lads hadencountered no old friends. 

"Well, I suppose we oughtn't to grumble, comrade, " said Punch, "forevery one makes no end of a fuss over us, and are always beginning toask questions and set one telling them about all we did after we wereleft behind. "

"Yes; I am rather tired of it, " said Pen. "I shall be only too gladwhen we are able to join the regiment. "

"Oh, I shall be glad enough, " said Punch. "I want to see old O'Grady, me boy; and, I say, do you think, if I was to make a sort of petitionlike, the colonel would put me in one of the companies now? Of course Iused to be proud enough of being bugler, but I want to be full private. "

"Well, you have only got to wait till you get bigger, " said Pen, smiling. 

"Bother bigger!" cried the boy. "Why, I am growing fast, and last timeI was measured I was only an inch shorter than the little chap we havegot; and what difference does an inch make when a fellow can carry arifle and can use it? You can't say that I ain't able, though it wasonly a musket. "

"No, Punch; there isn't a man in the regiment could have done betterthan you did. "

"There, then!" cried the boy, with his eyes sparkling. "Then I'm sureif you would speak up and say all that to the colonel he would let me gointo one of the companies. I want to be in yours, but I would wait formy chance if they would only make me a full private at once. "

The boys were sitting talking together when an infantry sergeant came upand said, "Here, youngsters, don't go away. Smarten yourselves up abit. You are to come with me to the officers' tent. I will be back inabout ten minutes. "

The sergeant went off in his quick, business-like way, and Punch beganto grumble. 

"Who's to smarten himself up, " he cried petulantly, "when his uniform isall nohow and he's got no proper boots? These old uns they've give medon't fit, and they will be all to pieces directly; and yours ain't muchbetter. I suppose they are going to question us again about where wehave been and what we have done. "

"Yes, " said Pen wearily, "and I am rather tired of it. It's like makinga show of us. "

"Oh, well, it don't hurt. They like to hear, and I dare say theofficers will give orders that we are to have something to eat anddrink. "

"Punch, you think of nothing but eating and drinking, " said Pen again. 

"Well, after being starved as we have, ain't it enough to make anybodythink that a little more wouldn't do them any harm? Hallo, he's soonback!" For he caught sight of the sergeant coming. 

"Now, boys, " he said, "ready?"

"Yes, " said Pen; and the keen-looking non-com looked both of them overin turn. 

"That the best you can do for yourselves?" he said sourly. "Well, Isuppose it is. You are clean, and you look as if you had been at work. You, Punchard, can't you let those trousers down a little lower?"

"No, sir; I did try last night. They have run up through being in theriver when we were half-drowned. "

"Humph! Perhaps, " said the sergeant. "I believe it was the growing somuch. "

Punch turned sharply to his comrade and gave him a wink, as much as tosay, "Hear that?"

"Now then, forward!" said the sergeant. "And look here, put on yourbest manners, boys. You are going before some of the biggest officers, so mind your p's and q's. "

A few minutes later the sergeant stopped short at the largest tent inthe camp, stated his business to the sentry who was marching to and frobefore a flag, and after waiting a few minutes a subaltern came out, spoke to the sergeant, and then told the boys to follow him. 

Directly after, the pair were ushered into the presence of half-a-dozenofficers in undress uniform, one of whom, a keen-looking, aquiline-nosedman, gave them in turn a sharp, searching look, which Punch afterwardssaid went right through him and came back again. He then turned to agrey-haired officer and said shortly, "Go on. I will listen. "

The grey-haired officer nodded and then turned to the two lads. 

"Look here, boys, " he said, "we have heard something about youradventures while you were away from your regiment. Now, stories grow intelling, like snowballs. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes, sir, " said Punch, "I know that;" and, apparently not in theslightest degree abashed by the presence in which he found himself, theboy eagerly scanned each officer in turn, before examining every itemwithin the tent, and then letting his eyes wander out through the opendoorway. 

"And you, my lad?" continued the officer, for Pen had remained silent. 

"Yes, sir, " said the lad quietly. 

"Well, " said the officer, "we want the plain, simple account of whereyou have been, without any exaggeration, for I am afraid one of you--Idon't know which, but I dare say I shall make a very shrewd guess beforewe have done--has been dressing up your adventures with rather a freehand. "

"I beg your pardon, sir, " said Pen quietly, "my comrade here, Punchard, has told nothing but the simple truth, and I have only answeredquestions without the slightest exaggeration. "

"Without the slightest exaggeration?" said the officer, lookingsearchingly at Pen, and there was a touch of irony in his tone. "Well, that is what I want from you now. "

Pen coloured and remained silent while the officer asked a question ortwo of Punch, but soon turned to the elder lad, who, warming as he wenton, briefly and succinctly related the main points of what they had gonethrough. 

"Very well said! Well spoken, my lad, " said the aquiline-nosed officer;and Pen started, for, warming in his narration, Pen had almost forgottenhis presence. "How long have you been a private in the --th?"

"A year, sir. "

"Where were you before you enlisted?"

"At Blankton House School. "

"Oh, I thought they called that College. "

"Yes, sir, they do, " said Pen, smiling; "but it is only a preparationplace. "

"Yes, for the sons of gentlemen making ready for the army?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And how come you to be a private in his Majesty's Rifle-Regiment?"

Pen was silent. 

"Speak out, comrade, " put in Punch. "There ain't nothing to be ashamedof. "

"Silence, sir!" cried the officer. "Let your comrade speak forhimself. " Then turning to Pen, "Your comrade says there was nothing tobe ashamed of. "

"There is not, sir, " said Pen gravely. 

"Well, then, keep nothing back. "

"It was this way, sir, " said Pen. "I was educated to be an officer, andthen by a death in my family all my hopes were set aside, and I wasplaced in a lawyer's office to become a clerk. I couldn't bear it, sir. "

"And you ran away?"

"No, sir. I appealed again and again for leave to return to my schooland finish my education. My relative refused to listen to me, and Isuppose I did wrong, for I went straight to where they were recruitingfor the Rifle-Regiment, and the sergeant took me at once. "

"H'm!" said the officer, looking searchingly in the lad's eyes. "Howcame you to join so quiet-looking a regiment?"

Pen smiled rather bitterly. 

"It was because my relative, sir, always threw it in my teeth that itwas for the sake of the scarlet uniform that I wanted to join the army. "

"H'm!" said the officer. "Now, look here, my lad; I presume you havehad your eyes about you during the time that you were a prisoner, whenyou were escaping, and when you were with the _contrabandista_ and hadthat adventure with the Spanish gentleman whom you suppose to be theKing. By the way, why did you suppose that he was the King?"

"From the behaviour of his followers, sir, and from what I learned fromthe smuggler chief. "

"H'm. He was a Spaniard, of course?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Do you speak Spanish?"

"No, sir. We conversed in French. "

"Do you speak French fluently?"

"Pretty easily, sir; but I am afraid my accent is atrocious. "

"But you should hear him talk Latin, sir!" cried Punch eagerly. 

"Silence, boy!" snapped out the grey-haired officer; and the chief gavehim a look and a smile. 

"Well, he can, sir; that's quite true, " cried Punch angrily. "He talkedto the old father, the _padre_, who was a regular friend to us. "

"Silence, boy!" said the aquiline-nosed officer sternly now. "Yourcomrade can say what he has to say modestly and well. That is a thingyou cannot do, so do not interrupt again. "

"All right, sir. No, sir; beg pardon, " said Punch. 

"Well, " continued the officer, looking keenly and searchingly at Pen, "you should have been able to carry in your mind a pretty good idea ofthe country you have passed through. "

"He can, sir, " cried Punch. "He has got it all in his head like a map. "

"My good boy, " said the officer, biting his lip to add to the severityof his aspect, "if you interrupt again you will be placed under arrest. "

Punch closed his lips so tightly that they formed a thin pink line rightacross the bottom of his face. 

"Now, Private Gray, do you think that you do carry within yourrecollection a pretty good idea of the face of the country; or to put itmore simply and plainly, do you think you could guide a regiment throughthe passes of this wild country and lead them safely to where you leftthe French encamped?"

"I have not a doubt but that I could, sir. "

"In the dark?"

"It would be rather harder in the dark, sir, " replied Pen, "but I feelconfident that I could. "

"May I take it that you are willing to try?"

"I am the King's servant, sir, and I will do my best. "

"That's enough, " said the chief. "You can return to your quarters andhold yourself in readiness to do what I propose, and if you do thissuccessfully--"

The speaker stopped short, and Pen took a step towards him. 

"What were you going to say?" said the officer. 

"Let me try first, sir, " said the lad, with his pale face, worn by whathe had gone through of late, flushing up with excitement. 

"That will do, " said the officer, "only be ready for your duty at anymoment. --Well, what do you wish to say?"

Pen stretched out his hand and laid it upon Punch's shoulder, for theboy had been moving his lips almost continuously during the latter partof the conversation, and in addition making hideous grimaces as if hewere in pain. 

"Only this, sir, " said Pen; "my companion here went through all that Idid. He was keenly observant, and would be of great assistance to me ifat any turn I were in doubt. "

"Then you would like to have him with you?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And you feel that you could trust him?"

"Oh yes, sir, " replied Pen. And the boys' eyes met--their hands too, for Punch with his lips still pressed together took a step forward andcaught Pen by the hand and wrist. 

"Take him with you, then, " said the officer. 

"Oh, thank--Hooray! hooray!" cried Punch, wildly excited now, for he hadcaught the tramp of men and seen that which made him dash towards theopen tent-door. 

"Bring back that boy!" cried the officer; and the sergeant, who waswaiting outside, arrested Punch and brought him before the group ofofficers. 

"How dare you, sir!" cried the chief wrathfully. "You are not to betrusted. I rescind that permission I was about to give. "

"Oh, don't do that, sir! 'Tain't fair!" cried the boy. "I couldn'thelp it, sir. It was our fellows, sir, marching into camp--the --th, sir--Rifles, sir. Ain't seen them, sir, since I was shot down. Don'tbe hard on a fellow, sir! So glad to see them, sir. You might havedone the same. I only wanted to give them a cheer. "

"Then go out and cheer them, sir, " said the officer, frowning severely, but with a twinkle of mirth in his eye. --"There, Pen Gray, you know yourduty. It is an important one, and I have given it to you in the fullbelief that you will well serve your country and your King. "

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. 

NO MORE BUGLING. 

That same night not only a regiment but a very strong brigade of theBritish army marched upon the important service that was in hand. 

They marched only by night, and under Pen's guidance the French forcesthat had been besieging the old mine were utterly routed. This happenedat a time when provisions were failing, and the _contrabandista_ captainsaw nothing before him but surrender, for he had found to his dismaythat the adit through which he had hoped to lead the Spanish monarch tosafety had been blocked by the treacherous action of some follower--bywhom, he could not tell, though he guessed that it was a question ofbribery. 

There was nothing for it but to die in defence of his monarch, and thisthey were prepared to do; but no further fierce fighting had takenplace, for the French General, after securing every exit by the aid ofhis reinforcements, felt satisfied that he had only to wait for eithersurrender or the dash out by a forlorn hope, ready to die sword in hand. 

Then came shortly what was to him a thorough surprise, and the routingof his forces by the British troops in an encounter which laid open alarge tract of country and proved to be one of the greatest successes ofSir Arthur Wellesley's campaign. 

The natural sequence was a meeting in the English General's tent, wherethe King was being entertained by the General himself. Here heexpressed a desire to see again the brave young English youth to whom heowed so much, for he had learned the part Pen Gray had taken in hisrescue. 

It was one afternoon of such a day as well made the Peninsula deservethe name of Sunny Spain that the --th Rifles were on duty ready toperform their task of acting as escort to the dethroned Spanish monarchon his way back to his capital; and to the surprise of Pen a message wasbrought to him to come with his companion to the General's tent. 

Here he was received by the King in person, and with a few earnestthanks for all he had done, the monarch presented him with a ring whichhe took from his finger. He followed this up by taking his watch andchain and presenting them to Punch, who took them in speechless wonder, looked from one to the other, and then whispered to Pen, "He means thisfor you. "

The General heard his words, and said quietly, "No, my lad; keep yourpresent. Your friend and companion has yet to be paid for the modestand brave way in which he performed his duties in guiding our force. --Private Gray, his Majesty here is in full agreement with that which I amabout to do. It is this--which is quite within my powers as General ofhis Britannic Majesty's forces. In exceptional cases promotion is givento young soldiers for bravery in the field. I have great pleasure inpresenting you with your commission. Ensign Gray, I hope that some dayI may call you Captain. The way is open to you now. I wish you everysuccess. "

"Oh, I say!" cried Punch, as soon as they were alone. 

The boy could say no more, for he was half-choking with emotion. Butwithin an hour he was with Pen again bursting with news and ready toannounce, "No more bugling! Hooray! I am the youngest full private inour corps!"

THE END.