After a few words with his fellow officers the commander of the convoy agreed to the terms. “You will, however,” he said, “permit me to take with me one or more wagons, as may be required, to carry off my wounded?”
This was at once agreed to, and in ten minutes the two companies of French infantry were in readiness to march. There were forty wounded in the wagons, and twenty-seven dead were left behind them. The French officer in command, before marching off, thanked Jack very heartily for his interference on their behalf.
“I tell you frankly, Captain Stilwell,” he said, “that I had no hopes whatever that I or any of my men would leave the ground alive, for these Spaniards invariably massacre prisoners who fall into their hands. I could not have left my wounded behind me; and even if I had resolved to do so, the chances of our fighting our way back in safety would have been small indeed. We owe you our lives, sir; and should it ever be in the power of Major Ferre to repay the debt, you may rely upon me.”
“I trust that the fortune of war may never place me in a position when I may need to recall your promise,” Jack said, smiling; “but should it do so, I will not fail to remind you if I get a chance.”
All was now ready for the march. Two wagons which had been hastily emptied were, with the wounded men, placed in the center, and the French, numbering now less than a hundred, started on their march. The Spanish peasants remained in their places on the hillside till they had departed, as the leaders had agreed that it was better they should be kept away from the vicinity of the French, as a quarrel would be certain to take place did they come to close quarters. The peasants were indignant at what they deemed the escape of their enemies; but the desire of plunder soon overcame other considerations, and as soon as the French had marched off they poured down from the hills. Their leaders, however, restrained them from indiscriminate plundering. There were in all eighty-seven wagons loaded with wine, corn, flour, and provisions for the use of the army.
An equal division was made of these among the various bands of peasants in proportion to their strength. A few casks of wine were broached. The peasants then buried their own dead—who were very few in number, so securely had they been sheltered in their hiding places—and then the force broke up, each party marching with its proportion of wagons back to its village.
“Now, Signor Capitano,” Father Ignacio said, “I trust that you will come home with me. My village is six miles away, and I will do my best to make you comfortable. Hitherto you have seen me only as a man of war. I can assure you that I am much more estimable in my proper character as a man of peace. And let me tell you, my cook is excellent; the wine of the village is famous in the province, and I have some in my cellars ten years old.”
“I cannot resist such a number of good arguments,” Jack said, smiling, “and till tomorrow morning I am at your service; but I warn you that my appetite just at present is ravenous, and that my two dragoons are likely to make a serious inroad upon the larders of your village, however well supplied.”
“They will be welcome,” the priest said, “and I guarantee the larders will prove sufficiently well stocked. Fortunately, although nearly every village in the neighborhood has been raided by the French, owing to our good fortune and the interposition of the blessed San Aldephonso our village has escaped a visit.”
The party under Father Ignacio soon turned off from the main road, and, with the six wagons which fell to their share, journeyed along a. rough country road until they reached the village. Father Ignacio sat on the leading wagon, and Jack rode alongside chatting with him. The priest was a stout built man, with a good humored countenance and merry twinkle of the eye, and Jack wondered what could have been the special wrong that induced him to take up a musket and lead his flock to the attack of a French convoy.