[CHAPTER XIV]
One of the Forlorn Hope
"A terribly hard nut to crack," observed Jack, for perhaps the twentieth time, as he and Tom sat their horses on a ridge above Badajoz, and looked down upon the fortress. "It'll be interesting to see how Wellington sets about the matter. Suppose there'll be a tremendous cannonade, and then an assault. Wish we were going to be in it."
"I mean to, whatever happens," came from our hero, who was staring down at the fortress, as if he wished to guess in which house his father and Don Juan were imprisoned. "As to how it'll be done, there's no saying; for I've never witnessed a siege before. But apparently the sappers and miners dig their way toward the fortress, erecting batteries as they go, till they are so close that our guns can batter down the walls. Then comes the grand assault. I can imagine that that is a terrific business. Well, let's ride round the place and see what's happening. There's very little else for us to do just now, and we can leave the men with Alfonso."
For two weeks past the combined command of Portuguese and Spanish guerrillas whom Tom had charge of had been operating about the magnificent fortress which Wellington had determined to capture. Throwing a circle completely about the place, they had cut the garrison off entirely from the outside world, and thus had enabled Wellington to concentrate his men without alarming the French. For here again, as in the case of Ciudad Rodrigo, it was all-important that the siege operations should not be disturbed by the arrival of a large French force, against whom our troops would have to act before taking the fortress. As in the case of Ciudad Rodrigo, had information leaked out the enemy could easily have concentrated a force in the neighbourhood, sufficient to delay and make impossible all siege operations. But, thanks to secrecy in his preparations, thanks, too, in no small measure to the work of such corps as Tom commanded, the intentions of Wellington were quite unknown, till, of a sudden, in the March following his capture of Ciudad Rodrigo, he turned his divisions in the direction of Badajoz, a fortress sometimes known as "the gate of Spain," and, crossing the River Guadiana on the 16th, caused the place to be invested by the three divisions commanded by Beresford and Picton. The remainder of his troops, some 60,000 in all, counting Spanish and Portuguese allies, covered the siege operations.
Looking down from the point of vantage to which they had ridden, Tom and his chum could obtain a bird's-eye view of the ancient fortress of Badajoz, and could easily trace its outline. But the arrival of a staff officer helped them wonderfully to understand what was occurring before their eyes. Cantering up the hill at this moment, and looking the smart fellow he was, this officer drew rein close to the two young fellows, acknowledging their salutes with one as brisk, and with a smile.
"Taking the air?" he asked. "We shall have plenty of it before we've done with the Frenchies. Ah! that's Clifford, I believe."
Tom saluted again and flushed.
"The officer the French refuse to fight, eh?"
Our hero was compelled to agree, with heightened colour, whereat the officer laughed loudly.