'Feeling better now?' Gerald asked me, as I stretched myself and asked for another omelette.
Before we had finished, a lot of officers rode up and came in—all very courteous—and I looked at them curiously; for they had just come back from the firing line, and their white cotton or blue-striped uniforms were covered with mud. When they first came into the room they all stared at the two of us, not quite knowing, for a moment, which was which. One of them, who particularly attracted me, was very short and fat with bandy legs. He had a broad-brimmed, soft felt hat on his head, the front turned up, his face and neck almost hidden by great bushy black whiskers, and he was so stout that his sword-belt wouldn't meet, and was fastened with cord. He had jolly, twinkling eyes, as black as night, and in the flickering shadows of the wood-fire looked like a gnome or goblin under that huge hat. He was very proudly handing round a large revolver for every one to look at, showing grand white teeth as he smiled, and shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands. Gerald handed it to me: 'He captured a cavalry officer this morning, and bagged this.'
The little 'Gnome' drew his stool across and explained its action. It was a Webley-Foster automatic revolver, and as I had not seen one before, I was jolly interested. I liked the little chap very much, and could just imagine him tackling one of those beautifully dressed dandies of cavalry officers we had seen at Santa Cruz.
These officers had come to tell Gerald how everything was progressing at the front, and they seemed to be holding a council of war, or rather listening to what Gerald had to tell them; for my brother was laying down the law pretty considerably.
At last everything was satisfactorily settled, there was more bowing, and most of them rode off again into the forest.
'Everything going on all right,' Gerald told me. 'Come along; hope you aren't getting stiff.'
We left the cheerful fire; the innkeeper refused any money; my brother sang out, 'José! José!'; the little groom with the red sash brought our horses round, and, with the 'Gnome' and three or four other officers, we were just going to mount when a dozen little machetos came up, leading some men. As they got into the light I saw that these were regular troops, and had yellow and green rosettes on their hats, tall, gaunt, hungry-looking chaps they were, and very much relieved when they saw my brother. He spoke to them and the excited little chaps guarding them, and then off we started.
'Deserters,' he told me. 'They all have the same tale; not enough food.'
Although 'deserter' has a horrid sound to it, I felt sorry for them, they looked so miserable, and meeting them seemed to make Zorilla's army, of which I had heard so much, much more real. I watched them being taken away to San Fernando, till they were lost in the darkness.
A full moon had risen whilst we were having our meal, and where the trees did not meet across the road there were patches of very comforting light. However, the moonlight on the road made the forest on either side of us look blacker and more forbidding than ever, and when two of the officers turned into it, by a path their horses seemed to know, I felt jolly glad I wasn't going with them.