And off they went, with Andrews their only escort. Riding into the village over the heaped-up mound which marked the spot where the peasants had dug a trench to arrest the French troopers, Tom and Jack were greeted most respectfully. None recognized in the handsome staff officer the leader of the troopers, nor in his smart brother officer the young fellow who was with him, and who had barely even now recovered from the wound inflicted. Tom rode direct to the house of the mayor, and dropped from his saddle. And then had followed an exciting incident. When he spoke, the people recognized him. Men rushed to the spot howling threats. Weapons appeared as if by magic, and for a while it looked as if, in spite of their being English, the little party would be cut to pieces. But here again Tom showed his mettle; not once did he betray concern.
"I make no excuses," he said sternly. "What we did was forced on us; but I have come back to bury old scores and to offer a favour to you."
His unconcern alone won him friends at once, while the memory of how he had treated those men who had descended to the courtyard and had been hemmed in there told in his favour. Where a minute earlier men had shrieked at him, they now smiled and lifted their caps—more than that, many were eager to do service. Thus it came about that within three days Tom had as many hundred Cacadores, or Portuguese irregulars, drilling close to the British army, on ground specially allotted to them, while within six weeks he had set off for Oporto for the special purpose of arranging for a similar party of Spaniards.
"It's work that you can look forward to, Jack," he repeated, as they came to the outskirts of Oporto. "I haven't ridden in here for the sole purpose of eating big dinners and dancing with all the fairest girls in Oporto. I'm here on business, your business, the British army's business, and don't you forget it!"
Jack screwed his face up as if he were disgusted.
"But," he began, "there'll——"
"Be time for fun—perhaps," agreed Tom. "But business first. I shall ride direct for the house of Juan de Esteros and Septimus John Clifford & Son."
"Of Oporto."
"And of London—wine merchants. Don Juan's my uncle; I'm looking forward to the meeting. Wonder if he'll have news of the folks at home?"