"No, please your Excellency," I answered, feeling somewhat ashamed I had not attained his full approbation in bringing back a whole skin.
"Sir," he said, sternly, "you will never smell powder until you are wounded. But in order to give you a better chance, and as a reward for not running away, you will be rated as Ensign to-morrow in the place of poor Jamieson, killed this afternoon."
So I won my first promotion for not being brave enough to take to my heels, where my heart was during the first part of the engagement at least; I never had the courage either to ask O'Reilly what his feelings had been when he held out his hand to me.
"Well, well," said Father O'Rourke, when I told him of my good-fortune, "Jeremiah was far-sighted when he prophesied 'the wild asses shall stand in the high places' (et onagri steterunt in rupibus). 'Tis Drum-Major they'll be making you next, and never a step for me, though I've the hardest and most dangerous work in the world trying to keep your heathen souls out of the clutch of a bigger enemy than Prince Lobkowitz himself. But 'tis a family party you are, anyway—here's a Major-General MacDonnell, and a Lieutenant-General MacDonnell, and a Colonel, and a Captain and a Lieutenant, and that poor little orphan, Angus, you left behind in Rome, and now they must needs make an Ensign of you. Faith, you're so plentiful hereabouts, I begin to believe the story that you had a boat of your own in the time of Noah."
"Indeed we had not, Father O'Rourke," I returned, indignantly, "that was the McLeans."
"Oh, well, McLeans or McDonells, 'tis all one. And Noah shewed his wisdom there, too, for had he let any more Highlanders into the Ark, they'd have been sailing it themselves inside of a month, for they've a rare scent for all the high places," he went on, with a roar of his Irish laughing. And I went off angry, but thinking how strange it was that so sensible a man in many things should find a pleasure in this childish way of jesting on any subject, and should so often choose me for his funning, who didn't relish it at all.
Colonel MacDonnell confirmed my rank as Ensign on the morrow, and for days we were hard at it marching across Italy to cover the northern frontier of Naples, next the Ecclesiastical States on the Mediterranean, where we got news that the Austrians were advancing in force under Prince Lobkowitz and the famous General Browne. They had an army of forty-five thousand men, Austrians, Hungarians, and Croats, while we were joined by thirty thousand Neapolitan troops, under King Carlo, so our forces were fairly equal. We took possession of the town of Velletri, within the Pope's dominions, the King making his headquarters in the Casa Ginetti, a handsome modern palace fronting on the principal square, while our army occupied the level country and the heights above. The Count di Gages was at the head of the Spanish, and the Duke of Castropignano of the Neapolitan troops, each taking command day about.
By some oversight the enemy were allowed to gain possession of the heights Monte Artemisio and Monte Spina, which occasioned great inconvenience to us, as by this means they commanded the high-road to Rome, and cut off our supply of water by the conduit which fed the great fountain in the principal square, so that we were obliged to search for water every evening at the cisterns and fountains about the country, or at the river, which ran in the great ravine between the two main armies, which lay about four miles asunder. To add to this, there was constant and severe enough fighting almost daily, but without any result proportionate.
About an hour before daybreak one morning, being on sentry, I was alarmed by the tramping of horses and the stir of men advancing towards my post. I challenged, and was answered by Lieutenant-General MacDonnell, whose voice I knew, and he knowing mine, called out:
"Is that you, McDonell?"