CHAPTER XIII.
On arriving at our billet, we there found the Padre, who expressed his profound regrets at the insult offered by the villagers to my companion, and repeated his assurance that nothing of the kind should happen again.
“Señor Padre,” said I, “that is hardly sufficient. I think that people who misconduct themselves as the villagers have done, should be made sensible of their error by stringent measures.”
“This time let it pass,” said M. le Tisanier. “Should the same thing happen again, I shall hold the alcalde responsible, and shall invite him” (M. le T. twists his mustache) “to a promenade outside the village.”
The Padre was in a little bit of a fidget. We had come upon him in the kitchen, with a ladle on the stove, and sleeves turned up. He was casting bullets.
“No news of this French column,” said he; “I have been waiting about here, expecting intelligence all the morning.”
“Why not send out some of the villagers?” I asked. “They might pick up information.”
“Señor Capitan,” he replied, “I have thought of a better plan than that. You and I were to have gone out shooting to-day. Suppose we go to-morrow morning.”
“With much pleasure,” said I, “but what are we to effect by that?”
“We will take a new direction,” he replied. “We will not go northwards, as hitherto; we will go southwards. This will bring us towards the point from which the enemy are approaching. We may obtain tidings; perhaps we may get a sight of them.”
“You must be guide, then,” I answered. “Of course, you know the ground.”
“Trust me for that,” said he. “I will not take you by the direct route across the open plain. We will strike off to the right, and skirt the foot of the hills.”
“Why go over rough ground, in preference to level?” I asked.
“Ah,” said he, “you are, I perceive, a novice in guerilla warfare. Regular tactics are your line. If they caught sight of us on the open plain, don’t you see they would be sure to overtake and capture us? If we have the hills on our flank, cannot we at any time escape up the rocks and gullies? They are not likely to follow us there. If they do, at any rate, I promise you some beautiful shooting.”
“Let alone a little bloodletting among the thorn-bushes,” said I; “trousers in tatters, and our beasts rolling heels over head down all sorts of places.”
“We must go on foot,” he replied.
“Very good,” said I; “you know best. Only recollect my left leg is in far better walking order for half-a-league than for half-a-dozen. Suppose I knock up?”
“Chito! then I will carry you on my back.”
“Be it so,” said I, inwardly determining to drop dead tired for the fun of the thing, and take a spell out of the Padre as long as I found it pleasant. “Then, to-morrow after breakfast——”
“We must start before breakfast,” said the Padre.
Supposing the enemy at hand, it really was desirable to know what they were about. So I ended by assenting, with one proviso, to all the Padre’s propositions. The proviso was, that in the interval we received no intelligence sufficiently conclusive of itself, and rendering our reconnaissance superfluous.