“They were tired, Charley, nothing more; why, lad, we’ve been fighting since daybreak,—beat Victor at six o’clock, drove him back behind the Tagus; took a cold dinner, and had at him again in the afternoon. Lord love you! we’ve immortalized ourselves. But you must never speak of this little business here; it tells devilish ill for the discipline of your fellows, upon my life it does.”
This was rather an original turn to give the transaction, but I did not oppose; and thus chatting, we entered the little inn, where, confidence once restored, some semblance of comfort already appeared.
“And so you’re come to reinforce us?” said Monsoon; “there was never anything more opportune,—though we surprised ourselves today with valor, I don’t think we could persevere.”
“Yes, Major, the appointment gave me sincere pleasure; I greatly desired to see a little service under your orders. Shall I present you with my despatches?”
“Not now, Charley,—not now, my lad. Supper is the first thing at this moment; besides, now that you remind me, I must send off a despatch myself, Upon my life, it’s a great piece of fortune that you’re here; you shall be secretary at war, and write it for me. Here now—how lucky that I thought of it, to be sure! And it was just a mere chance; one has so many things—” Muttering such broken, disjointed sentences, the major opened a large portfolio with writing materials, which he displayed before me as he rubbed his hands with satisfaction, and said, “Write away, lad.”
“But, my dear Major, you forget; I was not in the action. You must describe; I can only follow you.”
“Begin then thus:—
HEADQUARTERS, ALVAS, JUNE 26.
YOUR EXCELLENCY,—Having learned from Don Alphonzo Xaviero
da Minto, an officer upon my personal staff—
“Luckily sober at that moment—”
That the advanced guard of the eighth corps of the French
army—