"'La division de Don Roland Hill,' said another.
"'Señores, what is the meaning of this intrusion, and how dare you lay hands thus upon me?'
"'The Marquis of Santa Cruz de la Zarza will tell you that,' said the little major, insolently.
"'Then where is the marquis?' asked I, furiously.
"'At his palace, where he waits you, and requires your presence,' said a young officer, who wore the cross of St. James and the splendid uniform of an Ayudante de Campo. 'Come with us, señor,' he added, politely. 'I beg to assure you that resistance is worse than useless; so permit me, for the present, to receive your sword.'
"I handed the young aide-de-camp my belt and scabbard.
"'Gentlemen, I beg you to remember that I am an officer bearing his Britannic Majesty's commission.' And without saying more, I accompanied them from the house of the glover, under escort of four Spanish soldiers, who surrounded me with fixed bayonets. In silence we traversed various streets, which were buried in darkness and obscurity; and I saw nothing of Crogan (for I had been seized while he was on his exploring expedition); yet though anxious and perplexed, I maintained a haughty silence, and disdained to question my conductors.
"The bell of the cathedral tolled midnight as we entered the great Plaza, and saw before us the stately palace of the marquis brilliantly illuminated, for he was giving a magnificent fete in honour of his patron saint, whose festival had occurred on the day that had passed. From the lofty latticed windows, four-and-twenty lines of variously-coloured light fell across the great Plaza of the bull-fights, and shed their prismatic hues on its plashing fountains. A flight of marble steps led us to the vestibule, where a Spanish guard of honour was under arms, with fixed bayonets; and, passing between their ranks, we ascended to the grand saloon of the palace.
"In that magnificent apartment, decorated in the florid and profusely-gilded style of Charles the Fifth's time, filled with a deluge of light from crystal chandeliers, and over a slippery floor of clear and tesselated marble, I was led by my conductors through the glittering crowd of guests. On every hand I saw the brown uniforms, red facings, and silver epaulettes of the Spanish line, the blue and silver of the Portuguese, the green of the Cazadores, and the black velvet suits of old-fashioned cavaliers, wearing the crosses of St. James and of Calatrava. The ladies wore, almost uniformly, dresses of black or white, but with a profusion of the richest lace. Many of them looked like beautiful black-eyed brides, for their brows were wreathed with flowers, or they had one fresh red rose among their dark glossy hair, placed just beside the comb, from which fell that sweeping veil which like a gauzy mist floated about their superb figures. For years I had not looked on such a scene.
"'Madre de Dios! what an officer!' 'O! Santos! that a British officer!' 'Morte de Dios! he a cavalier!' were the exclamations in every varying tone. I was led along the saloon; the music ceased in the gilded gallery; the dancers paused, mingled, and crowded about us; then reflecting that I had come straight from the camp and field, where my comrades were facing danger and death for these same Spaniards, I thought the exhibition made of me by the Major Don José Gonzalez, of the regiment of Leon, alike scurvy and ungrateful. Our division of the army had not received a farthing of pay for six months at that time, and many a brave fellow fell at Vittoria and the Pyrenees without receiving his hard-won arrears, which, more than probably, his relations never obtained either.