"Anticipated!"
"Yes, Sir John."
"How, how?" asked several voices.
"General de Ribeaupierre with his whole brigade, consisting of the 24th Chasseurs à Cheval, the Westphalian Light Horse, numbering five hundred and sixty sabres, and the Dragoons of Napoleon, five hundred strong, aided by Laborde's corps and some field guns, issued from Valencia de Alcantara, attacked the guerillas in a valley near San Vincente, and captured their five pieces of artillery, killing the Conde de Maciera, a captain of Lancers, who made three charges to retake them; so De Saldos informs the Captain-general at Badajoz, that there must be treachery somewhere."
"Treachery," reiterated the general, while Cosmo Crawford put his glass to his eye and glanced with a malicious smile towards the group where Quentin, with others, stood listening to all this with the deepest interest, for until the "Courier," or some English paper reached them, they were often ignorant for months of what was enacted in other parts of Spain.
"Don Baltasar is on the march, however, to join us," resumed Captain Conyers; "he has made a detour by the left bank of the Valverde, and by to-morrow evening hopes to make his report to you in person."
"I thank you, Captain Conyers," said the general; "come, gentlemen, this is not so bad after all! To-morrow night we halt at Merida."
"Had you not better despatch a message to De Saldos, saying so," suggested an officer.
"My horse is used up, sir," said Captain Conyers, smiling; "he has gone forty-five miles, on a feed of chopped whin, over the most infernal roads too!"
"There is that young volunteer of ours," said Cosmo; "he acquitted himself so well before, Sir John——"