"Ah, Lieutenant, I'm pleased to meet you. We shall camp in this valley, and you will give me the pleasure of dining with me to-night and of bringing your comrades. Mr. Clifford, I think you said."
The naval officer beckoned our hero forward and introduced him formally. Then he took the general to Jack's side, making him known also. As for Andrews and Howeley, they were beaming in a moment, for Wellington did them the honour of shaking their hands, while smiles broke across the countenances of the French troopers when he halted before them.
"You have an interpreter?" he asked Mr. Riley.
"Mr. Clifford, sir."
"Then repeat what I say, if you please, Mr. Clifford. Tell them I am delighted to hear that they have fought side by side instead of against us, and that they shall be well treated and their conduct reported to their own commanders. Tell them that."
Tom promptly interpreted the words, causing the Frenchmen to flush with pride.
"And now for these wretched peasants," began Wellington, turning to the spot where some fifty of the latter cowered, wondering what was to be done with them. "I presume it is much the same tale as we have had before? Reprisals attempted because of the brutality of the French. Hundreds of these poor fools against a handful of armed men. A sudden attack and a narrow escape. Well, we'll sign to them to be off. There's no interpreter with us just now."
"Pardon, sir," burst in Mr. Riley. "Mr. Clifford speaks the language."
"What? Let me hear him."
Blunt and abrupt in speech, there was something kind nevertheless in the tones of the general, and at once Tom went to the Portuguese and told them they might depart. When he returned he found Wellington looking at him with strange intensity.