“A carbonade with olives, a roast duck, a bowl of bishop, and, if you will, a few bottles of Burgundy,” said the major; “don’t put yourself out for us,—soldier’s fare, eh?”
I could not help smiling at the naïve notion of simplicity so cunningly suggested by old Monsoon. As I followed the party through the streets, my step was light, my heart not less so; for what sensations are more delightful than those of landing after a voyage? The escape from the durance vile of shipboard, with its monotonous days and dreary nights, its ill-regulated appointments, its cramped accommodation, its uncertain duration, its eternal round of unchanging amusements, for the freedom of the shore, with a land breeze, and a firm footing to tread upon; and certainly, not least of all, the sight of that brightest part of creation, whose soft eyes and tight ankles are, perhaps, the greatest of all imaginable pleasures to him who has been the dweller on blue water for several weeks long.
“Here we are,” cried out Ferguson, as we stopped at the door of a large and handsome house. We follow up a spacious stair into an ample room, sparingly, but not uncomfortably furnished: plans of sieges, maps of the seat of war, pistols, sabres, and belts decorated the white walls, and a few books and a stray army list betokened the habits of the occupant.
While Ferguson disappeared to make some preparations for supper, Monsoon commenced a congratulation to the party upon the good fortune that had befallen them. “Capital fellow is Joe; never without something good, and a rare one to pass the bottle. Oh, here he comes. Be alive there, Sparks, take a corner of the cloth; how deliciously juicy that ham looks. Pass the Madeira down there; what’s under that cover,—stewed kidneys?” While Monsoon went on thus we took our places at the table, and set to with an appetite which only a newly-landed traveller ever knows.
“Another spoonful of the gravy? Thank you. And so they say we’ve not been faring over well latterly?” said the major.
“Not a word of truth in the report. Our people have not been engaged. The only thing lately was a smart brush we had at the Tamega. Poor Patrick, a countryman of ours, and myself were serving with the Portuguese brigade, when Laborde drove us back upon the town and actually routed us. The Portuguese general, caring little for anything save his own safety, was making at once for the mountains when Patrick called upon his battalion to face about and charge; and nobly they did it, too. Down they came upon the advancing masses of the French, and literally hurled them back upon the main body. The other regiments, seeing this gallant stand, wheeled about and poured in a volley, and then, fixing bayonets, stormed a little mount beside the hedge, which commanded the whole suburb of Villa Real. The French, who soon recovered their order, now prepared for a second attack, and came on in two dense columns, when Patrick, who had little confidence in the steadiness of his people for any lengthened resistance, resolved upon once more charging with the bayonet. The order was scarcely given when the French were upon us, their flank defended by some of La Houssaye’s heavy dragoons. For an instant the conflict was doubtful, until poor Patrick fell mortally wounded upon the parapet; when the men, no longer hearing his bold cheer, nor seeing his noble figure in the advance, turned and fled, pell-mell, back upon the town. As for me, blocked up amidst the mass, I was cut down from the shoulder to the elbow by a young fellow of about sixteen, who galloped about like a schoolboy on a holiday. The wound was only dangerous from the loss of blood, and so I contrived to reach Amacante without much difficulty; from whence, with three or four others, I was ordered here until fit for service.”
“But what news from our own head-quarters?” inquired I.
“All imaginable kind of rumors are afloat. Some say that Craddock is retiring; others, that a part of the army is in motion upon Caldas.”
“Then we are not going to have a very long sojourn here, after all, eh, Major? Donna Maria de Tormes will be inconsolable. By-the-bye, their house is just opposite us. Have you never heard Monsoon mention his friends there?”
“Come, come, Joe, how can you be so foolish?”