A FALSE ALARM
The march was continued until the brigade arrived at Almeida, which they
reached on the 7th of November, and Sir John Moore and the head-quarters
staff came up on the following day. All the troops were now assembled at
that place; for Anstruther, by some misconception of orders, had halted
the leading division, instead of, as intended by the general, continuing
his march to Salamanca. The condition of the troops was excellent.
Discipline, which had been somewhat relaxed during the period of
inactivity, was now thoroughly restored. The weather had continued fine,
and the steady exercise had well prepared them for the campaign which was
beginning. Things, however, were in other respects going on unfavourably.
The Junta of Corunna had given the most solemn promises that transport and
everything necessary for the advance of Sir David Baird's force should be
ready by the time that officer arrived. Yet nothing whatever had been
done, and so conscious were the Junta of their shortcomings, that when the
fleet with the troops arrived off the port they refused to allow them to
enter without an order from the central Junta, and fifteen days were
wasted before the troops could disembark. Then it was found that neither
provisions nor transport had been provided, and that nothing whatever was
to be hoped for from the Spanish authorities. Baird was entirely
unprovided with money, and was supplied with £8,000 from Moore's scanty
military chest, while at the very time the British agent, Mr. Frere, was
in Corunna with two millions of dollars for the use of the Spaniards,
which he was squandering, like the other British agents, right and left
among the men who refused to put themselves to the slightest trouble to
further the expedition.
Spain was at this time boasting of the enthusiasm of its armies, and of
the immense force that it had in the field, and succeeded in persuading
the English cabinet and the English people that with the help of a little
money they could alone and unaided drive the French right across the
frontier. The emptiness of this braggadocio, and the utter incapacity of
the Spanish authorities and generals was now speedily exposed, for
Napoleon's newly arrived armies scattered the Spaniards before them like
sheep, and it was only on one or two occasions that anything like severe
fighting took place. Within the space of three weeks there remained of the
great armies of Spain but a few thousand fugitives hanging together
without arms or discipline. Madrid, the centre of this pretended
enthusiasm and patriotism, surrendered after a day's pretence at
resistance, and the whole of the eastern provinces fell, practically
without a blow, into the hands of the invaders.
At present, however, Moore still hoped for some assistance from the
Spaniards. He, like Baird, was crippled for want of money, but determined
not to delay his march, and sent agents to Madrid and other places to make
contracts and raise money; thus while the ministers at home squandered
huge sums on the Spaniards, they left it to their own military commanders
to raise money by means of loans to enable them to march. Never in the
course of the military history of England were her operations so crippled
and foiled by the utter incapacity of her government as in the opening
campaigns of the Peninsular War.
While Baird was vainly trying to obtain transport at Corunna, a
reinforcement of some five thousand Spanish troops under General Romana
landed at San Andero, and, being equipped from the British stores, joined
the Spanish general, Blake, in Biscay. These troops had been raised for
the French service at the time Napoleon's brother Joseph was undisputed
King of Spain. They were stationed in Holland, and when the insurrection
at home broke out, the news of the rising was sent to them, and in
pursuance of a plan agreed upon they suddenly rose, marched down to a port
and embarked in English ships sent to receive them, and were in these
transported to the northern coast of Spain.
Sir David Baird was a man of great energy, and, having succeeded in
borrowing a little more money from Mr. Frere, he started on his march to
join General Moore. He had with great difficulty hired some country carts
at an exorbitant rate, but the number was so small that he was obliged to
send up his force in half-battalions, and so was able to proceed but very
slowly.
Sir John Moore was still in utter ignorance of the situation in Spain. The
jealousy among the generals, and the disinclination of the central Junta
to appoint any one person to a post that might enable him to interfere
with their intrigues, had combined to prevent the appointment of a
commander-in-chief, and there was no one therefore with whom Sir John
could open negotiations and learn what plans, if any, had been decided
upon for general operations against the advancing enemy.
On the day that Moore arrived at Almeida, Blake was in full flight,
pursued by a French army 50,000 strong, and Napoleon was at Vittoria with
170,000 troops.
Of these facts he was ignorant, but the letters that he received from Lord
William Bentinck and Colonel Graham, exposing the folly of the Spanish
generals, reached him. On the 11th he crossed the frontier of Spain,
marching to Ciudad-Rodrigo. On that day Blake was finally defeated, and
one of the other armies completely crushed and dispersed. These events
left a large French army free to act against the British. Sir John Moore,
however, did not hear of this until a week later. He knew, however, that
the situation was serious; and after all the reports of Spanish
enthusiasm, he was astonished to find that complete apathy prevailed, that
no effort was made to enroll the population, or even to distribute the
vast quantity of British muskets stored up in the magazines of the cities.
The general arrived at Salamanca with 4,000 British infantry. The French
cavalry were at Valladolid, but three marches distant. On the 18th more
troops had arrived, and on the 23d 12,000 infantry and six guns were at
Salamanca. But Moore now knew of the defeat of Blake, and that the French
army that had crushed him was free to advance against Salamanca. But he
did not yet know of the utter dispersal of the Asturian army, or that the
two armies of Castanos and Palafox were also defeated and scattered beyond
any attempt at rallying, and that their conquerors were also free to march
against him. Although ignorant of the force with which Napoleon had
entered Spain, and having no idea of its enormous strength, he knew that
it could not be less than 80,000 men, and that it could be joined by at
least 30,000 more.
His position was indeed a desperate one. Baird was still twenty marches
distant, his cavalry and artillery still far away. It would require
another five days to bring the rear of his own army to Salamanca, as only
a small portion could come forward each day, owing to want of transport;
and yet, while in this position of imminent danger, the Spanish
authorities, through Mr. Frere and other agents, were violently urging an
advance to Madrid.
General Moore was indeed in a position of imminent danger; but the lying
reports as to the strength of the Spanish army induced him for a moment to
make preparations for such a movement. When, however, he learned the utter
overthrow and dispersal of the whole of the Spanish armies, he saw that
nothing remained but to fall back, if possible, upon Portugal.
It was necessary, however, that he should remain at Salamanca until Hope
should arrive with the guns, and the army be in a position to show a front
to the enemy. Instructions had been previously sent to Hope to march to
the Escurial. Hope had endeavoured to find a road across the mountains of
Ciudad-Rodrigo, but the road was so bad that he dared not venture upon it,
as the number of horses was barely sufficient to drag the guns and
ammunition waggons along a good road. He therefore kept on his way until
he reached the Escurial; but after advancing three days farther towards
Madrid, he heard of the utter defeat of the Spaniards and the flight of
their armies. His cavalry outposts brought in word that more than 4,000
cavalry were but twelve miles away, and that other French troops were at
Segovia and other places. The prospect of his making his way to join Sir
John Moore seemed well-nigh hopeless; but, with admirable skill and
resolution, Hope succeeded in eluding some of his foes, in checking others
by destroying or defending bridges, and finally joined the main force
without the loss of any of the important convoy of guns and ammunition
that he was escorting.
The satisfaction of the troops at the arrival of the force that had been
regarded as lost was unbounded. Hitherto, unprovided as they were with
artillery and cavalry, they could have fought only under such
disadvantages as would render defeat almost inevitable, for an enemy could
have pounded them with artillery from a distance beyond their musket
range, and they could have made no effectual reply whatever. His cavalry
could have circled round them, cut their communications, and charged down
on their lines in flank and rear while engaged with his infantry. Now
every man felt that once again he formed part of an army, and that that
army could be relied upon to beat any other of equal numbers.
Terence had enjoyed the march to Salamanca. The fine weather had broken
up, and heavy rains had often fallen, but his thick coat kept him dry
except in the steadiest downpours; while on one or two occasions only the
general and his staff had failed to find quarters available. As they
proceeded they gradually closed up with the troops forming a part of the
same division, and at Almeida came under the command of General Fraser,
whose division was made complete by their arrival. Up to this point the
young aide-de-camp's duties had been confined solely to the work of the
brigade--to seeing that the regiments kept their proper distances, that
none of the waggons loitered behind, and that the roads were repaired,
where absolutely necessary, for the baggage to pass.
In the afternoon he generally rode forward with Major Errington, the
quartermaster-general of the brigade, to examine the place fixed upon for
the halt, to apportion the ground between the regiments, and ascertain the
accommodation to be obtained in the village. Two orderlies accompanied
them, each carrying a bundle of light rods. With these the ground was
marked off, a card with the name of the regiment being inserted in a slit
at the end of the rod; the village was then divided in four quarters for
the accommodation of the officers. But beyond fixing the name of each
regiment to the part assigned to it, no attempt was made to allot any
special quarters to individual officers, this being left for the
regimental quartermaster to do on the arrival of the troops.
When the column came up Terence led each regiment to the spot marked off,
and directed the baggage-waggons to their respective places. While he was
doing this, Trevor, with the orderlies, saw the head-quarters baggage
carried to the house chosen for the general's use, and that the place was
made as comfortable as might be, and then endeavoured to add to the
rations by purchases in the village. Fane himself always remained with the
troops until the tents were erected, and they were under cover, the
rations distributed, and the fires lighted. The latter operation was often
delayed by the necessity of fetching wood from a distance, the wood in the
immediate neighbourhood having been cut down and burned either by the
French on their advance, or by the British regiments ahead.
He then went to his quarters, where he received the reports of the
medical, commissariat, and transport officers, wrote a report of the state
of the road and the obstacles that he had encountered, and sent it back by
an orderly to the officer commanding the six guns which were following a
day's march behind him. These had been brought along with great labour, it
being often necessary to take them off their carriages and carry them up
or down difficult places, while the men were frequently compelled to
harness themselves to ropes and aid the horses to drag the guns and
waggons through the deep mud. Between the arrival of the troops and dinner
Terence had his time to himself, and generally spent it with his regiment.
"Never did I see such a country, Terence," O'Grady complained to him one
day. "Go where you will in ould Oirland, you can always get a jugful of
poteen, a potful of 'taties, and a rasher of bacon; and if it is a
village, a fowl and eggs. Here there are not even spirits or wine; as for
a chicken, I have not seen the feather of one since we started, and I
don't believe the peasants would know an egg if they saw it."
"Nonsense, O'Grady! If we were to go off the main road we should be able
to buy all these things, barring the poteen, and maybe the potatoes, but
you could get plenty of onions instead. You must remember that the French
army came along here, and I expect they must have eaten nearly everything
up on their way, and you may be sure that Anstruther's brigade gleaned all
they left. As we marched from the Mondego we found the villagers well
supplied--better a good deal than places of the same size would be in
Ireland--except at our first halting-place."
"I own that, although Hoolan sometimes fails to add to our rations, we
have not been so badly off, Terence. He goes out with two or three more of
the boys directly we halt, laving the other servants to get the tents
ready, and he generally brings us half a dozen fish, sometimes a dozen,
that he has got out of the stream.
"He is an old hand, is Tim, and if he can't get them for dinner he gets
them for breakfast. He catches them with night-lines and snares, and all
sorts of poaching tricks. I know he bought a bag with four or five pounds
of lime at Torres Vedras, and managed to smuggle it away in the regimental
baggage. I asked him what it was for, and the rascal tipped me a wink, as
much as to say, Don't ask no questions, master; and I believe that he
drops a handful into a likely pool when he comes across one. I have never
dared to ask him, for my conscience would not let me countenance such an
unsportsmanlike way of getting round the fish."
"I don't think that there is much harm in it under the present
circumstances," Terence laughed. "It is not sport, but it is food. I am
afraid, Tim, that you must have been poaching a good deal at home or you
would never have thought of buying lime before starting on this march."
"I would scorn to take in an Oirish fish, yer honour!" Hoolan said,
indignantly. "But it seems to me that as the people here are trating us
in just as blackguardly a manner as they can, shure it is the least we can
do to catch their fish any way we can, just to pay them off."
"Well, looking at it in that light, Tim, I will say no more against the
practice. I don't think I could bring myself to lime even Portuguese
water, but my conscience would not trouble me at eating fish that had been
caught by somebody else."
"I will bear it in mind, yer honour, and next time we come on a good pool
a dish of fine fish shall be left at your quarters, but yer honour must
not mintion to the gineral where you got them from. Maybe his conscience
in the matter of ateing limed fish would be more tender than your own, and
it might get me into trouble."
"I will take care about that, Tim; at any rate, I will try and manufacture
two or three hooks, and when we halt for a day will try and do a little
fishing on my own account."
"I will make you two or three, Mr. O'Connor. I made a couple for Mr. Ryan,
and he caught two beauties yesterday evening."
"Thank you, Hoolan. Fond as I am of fishing, I wonder it did not strike me
before. I can make a line by plaiting some office string, with twisted
horse-hair instead of gut."
"I expect that that is just what Mr. Ryan did, yer honour. I heard the
adjutant using powerful language this morning because he could not find a
ball of twine."
After this Terence generally managed to get an hour's fishing before the
evening twilight had quite faded away; and by the aid of a long rod cut on
the river bank, a line manufactured by himself, and Hoolan's hook baited
with worms, he generally contrived to catch enough fish to supplement the
ordinary fare at the following morning's breakfast.
"This is a welcome surprise, Trevor," the brigadier said the first time
the fish appeared at table. "I thought I smelt fish frying, but I felt
sure I must be mistaken. Where on earth did you get them from?"
"It is not my doing, General, but O'Connor's. I was as much surprised as
yourself when I saw Burke squatting over the fire frying three fine fish.
I asked him where he had stolen them. He told me that Mr. O'Connor brought
them in at eight o'clock yesterday evening."
"Where did you get them from, O'Connor?"
"I caught them in the stream that we crossed half a mile back, sir. I
found a likely pool a few hundred yards down it, and an hour's work there
gave me those three fish. They stopped biting as soon as it got dark."
"What did you catch them with?"
Terence explained the nature of his tackle.
"Capital! You have certainly given us a very pleasant change of food, and
I hope that you will continue the practice whenever there is a chance."
"There ought often to be one, General. We cross half a dozen little
mountain streams every day, and the villages are generally built close to
one. I don't suppose I should have thought of it, if I had not found that
some of the men of my regiment have been supplying the mess with them. I
hope to do better in future, for going over the ground where some of the
troops in front of us have bivouacked I came upon some white feathers
blowing about, and I shall try to tie a fly. That ought to be a good deal
more killing than a worm when the light begins to fade."
"You have been a fisherman, then, at home?"
"Yes, sir; I did a good deal of fishing round Athlone, and was taught to
tie my own flies. I wish I had a packet of hooks--the two one of our
fellows made for me are well enough for worms, but they are rather clumsy
for flies."
"I used to be fond of fishing myself," Fane said; "but I have always
bought my tackle, and I doubt whether I should make much hand at it, if
left to my own devices. We are not likely to be able to get any hooks till
we get to Almeida, but I should think you would find some there."
"I shall be able to get some wire to make them with, no doubt, sir."
"I fancy after we have left Almeida you won't find many opportunities of
fishing, O'Connor. We shall have other work on hand then, and shall, I
hope, be able to buy what we want; at any rate, we shall have as good a
chance of doing so as others, while along this road there is nothing to be
had for love or money, and the peasants would no doubt be glad to sell us
anything they have, but they are living on black bread themselves; and,
indeed, the greater part have moved away to less-frequented places. No
doubt they will come back again as soon as we have all passed, but how
long they will be allowed to live in peace and quietness is more than I
can say. As long as it is only our troops who come along they have nothing
much to complain of, for they can sell everything they have to dispose of
at prices they never dreamt of before; but they complain bitterly of the
French, who ate their fruit and drank their wine, killed their pigs and
fowls, appropriated their cattle and horses, and they thought themselves
lucky to escape with their lives. You see there are very few men about
here; they have all gone off to join one or other of the Portuguese
bands."
"I fancy these Portuguese fellows will turn out useful some day, General,"
Major Errington said. "They are stout fellows, and though I don't think
the townspeople would be of any good, the peasantry ought to make good
soldiers if they were well drilled and led."
"That is a very large if," Fane laughed. "I see no signs of any leader,
and unless we could lend them a few hundred non-commissioned officers I
don't see where their drill instructors are to come from. Still, I have
more hope of them than I have of the Spaniards. Those men under Trant were
never tried much under fire, but they certainly improved in discipline
very much in the short time they were with us. If we could but get rid of
all the Portuguese authorities and take the people in hand ourselves, we
ought to be able to turn out fifty thousand good fighting troops in the
course of a few months, but so long as things go on as they are I see no
hope of any efficient aid from them."
At Almeida Terence managed to procure some hooks. They were clumsily made,
but greatly superior to anything that he could turn out himself. He was
also able to procure some strong lines, but the use of flies seemed to be
altogether unknown. However, during his stay he made half a dozen
different patterns, and with these in a small tin box and a coil of line
stowed away at the bottom of one of his holsters, he felt that if
opportunity should occur he ought to be able to have fair sport. He had
suffered a good deal during the heavy rains, which came on occasionally,
from the fact that his infantry cloak was not ample enough to cover his
legs when riding. He was fortunate enough here to be able to buy a pair of
long riding-boots, and with these and a pair of thick canvas trousers,
made by one of the regimental tailors, and coming down just below the
knee, he felt that in future he could defy the rain.
At Salamanca there were far better opportunities of the officers
supplementing their outfits. Landing on the Mondego early in August, they
had made provision against the heat, but had brought no outfit at all
suited for wear in winter, and all seized the opportunity of providing
themselves with warm under-garments, had linings sewn into greatcoats, and
otherwise prepared for the cold which would shortly set in. The greater
part of the troops were here quartered in the convents and other extensive
buildings, and as Fane's brigade was one of the first to arrive they
enjoyed a short period of well-earned rest. Terence had by this time
picked up a good deal of Portuguese, and was able to make himself pretty
well understood by the Spanish shopkeepers. He, as well as the other
officers, was astonished and disgusted at the lethargy that prevailed
when, as all now knew, the great Spanish armies were scattered to the
winds, and large bodies of French troops were advancing in all directions
to crush out the last spark of resistance.
The officers of the Mayo Fusiliers had established a mess, and Terence
often dined there. He was always eagerly questioned as to what was going
to be done.
"I can assure you, O'Grady," he said, one day, "that aides-de-camp are not
admitted to the confidence of the officer commanding-in-chief. I know no
more as to Sir John's intentions than the youngest drummer-boy. I suppose
that everything will depend upon the weather, and whether General Hope,
with the artillery and cavalry, manages to join us. If he does, I suppose
we shall fight a battle before we fall back. If he does not, I suppose we
shall have to fall back without fighting, if the French will let us."
"I wish, Terence, you would give these lazy Spaniards a good fright, just
as you gave the people at Athlone. Faith, I would give a couple of months'
pay to see them regularly scared."
"If I were not on the staff I might try it, O'Grady, but it would never do
for me to try such a thing now."
Dick Ryan, who was standing by, winked significantly, and in a short time
he and Terence were talking eagerly together in a corner of the room.
"Who is to know you are a staff-officer, Terence?" the latter urged.
"Isn't it an infantry uniform that you are wearing? and ain't there
hundreds of infantry officers here? It was good fun at Athlone, but I
don't think that many of them believed there was any real danger. It would
be altogether different here; they are scared enough as it is, though they
walk about with their cloaks wrapped round them and pretend to be mighty
confident."
"Let us come and talk it over outside, Dick. It did not much matter before
if it had been discovered we had a hand in it. Of course the colonel would
have given us a wigging, but at heart he would have been as pleased at the
joke as any of us. But it is a different affair here."
Going out, they continued their talk and arranged their plans. Late the
following night two English officers rushed suddenly into a drinking-shop
close to the gate through which the road to Valladolid passed.
"The French! the French!" one exclaimed. "Run for your lives and give the
alarm!"
The men all leapt to their feet, rushed out tumultuously, and scattered
through the streets, shouting at the top of their voices: "The French are
coming! the French are coming! Get up, or you will all be murdered in your
beds!"
The alarm spread like wildfire, and Terence and Ryan made their way back,
by the shortest line, to the room where most of the officers were still
sitting, smoking and chatting.
"Any news, O'Connor?" the colonel asked.
"Nothing that I have heard of, Colonel. I thought I would drop in for a
cigar before turning in."
A few minutes later Tim Hoolan entered.
"There is a shindy in the town, your honour," he said to the colonel.
"Meself does not know what it is about; but they are hallooing and bawling
fit to kill themselves."
One of the officers went to the window and threw it up.
"Hoolan is right, Colonel; there is something the matter. There--" he
broke off as a church bell pealed out with loud and rapid strokes.
"That is the alarm, sure enough!" the colonel exclaimed. "Be off at once,
gentlemen, and get the men up and under arms."
"I must be off to the general's quarters!" Terence exclaimed, hastily
putting on his greatcoat again.
"The divil fly away with them," O'Grady grumbled, as he hastily finished
the glass before him; "sorrow a bit of peace can I get at all, at all, in
this bastely country."
Terence hurried away to his quarters. A score of church bells were now
pealing out the alarm. From every house men and women rushed out
panic-stricken, and eagerly questioned each other. All sorts of wild
reports were circulated.
"The British outposts have been driven in; the Valladolid gate has been
captured; Napoleon himself, with his whole army, is pouring into the
town."
The shrieks of frightened women added to the din, above which the British
bugles calling the troops to arms could be heard in various quarters of
the city.
"Oh, here you are, Mr. O'Connor!" General Fane exclaimed, as he hurried
in. "Mr. Trevor has just started for the convent; he may be intercepted,
and therefore do you carry the same message; the brigade is to get under
arms at once, and to remain in readiness for action until I arrive. From
what I can gather from these frightened fools, the French have already
entered the town. If the convent is attacked, it is to be defended until
the last. I am going to head-quarters for orders."
A good deal alarmed at the consequences of the tumult that he and Dick
Ryan had excited, Terence made his way through the streets at a run; his
progress, however, was impeded by the crowd, many of whom seized him as he
passed and implored him to tell them the news. He observed that not a
weapon was to be seen among the crowd; evidently resistance was absolutely
unthought of. Trevor had reached the convent before him. The four
regiments had already gathered there under arms.
"Have you any orders, Mr. O'Connor?" Colonel Corcoran asked, eagerly, for
the Mayo Fusiliers happened to be formed up next the gate of the convent.
"No, sir; only to repeat those brought by Mr. Trevor, as the general
thought that he might be intercepted on the way. The troops are to remain
here in readiness until he arrives. If attacked, they are to hold the
convent until the last."
"Have you seen any signs of the French?"
"None, whatever, Colonel."
"Did you hear any firing?"
"No, sir; but there was such an uproar--what with the church bells,
everyone shouting, and the women screaming--that I don't suppose I should
have heard it unless it had been quite close."
"We thought we heard musketry," the colonel replied, "but it might have
been only fancy. There is such a hullabaloo in the city that we might not
have heard the fire of small-arms, but I think that we must have heard
artillery."
In ten minutes Fane with his staff galloped in. "The brigade will march
down towards the Valladolid gate," he said. "If you encounter any enemies,
Colonel Corcoran you will at once occupy the houses on both sides of the
street and open fire upon them from the windows and roofs; the other
regiments will charge them. At present," he went on, as the colonel gave
the order for the regiment to march, "we can obtain no information as to
the cause of this uproar. An officer rode in, just as I was starting, from
Anstruther's force, encamped outside the walls, asking for orders, and
reporting that his outposts have seen no signs of the enemy. I believe it
is a false alarm after all, and we are marching rather to reassure the
populace than with any idea of meeting the enemy."
The troops marched rapidly through the streets, making their way without
ceremony through the terrified crowd. They had gone but a short distance
when the bells of the churches one by one ceased their clamour, and a hush
succeeded the din that had before prevailed. When the head of the column
reached the gate, they saw Sir John Moore and his staff sitting there on
horseback. Fane rode up to him for orders.
"It is, as I fancied, wholly a false alarm," the general said. "How it
could have started I have no idea. I have had another report from
Anstruther; all is quiet at the outposts, and there is no sign whatever of
the enemy. There is nothing to do but to march the troops back to
barracks. However, I am not sorry, for possibly the scare may wake the
authorities up to the necessity of taking some steps for the protection of
the town."
Terence rode back with General Fane to his quarters.
"I cannot make out," Trevor said, as they went, "how the scare can have
begun; everything was quiet enough. I was just thinking of turning in when
we heard a shouting in the streets. In three minutes the whole town seemed
to have gone mad, and I made sure that the French must be upon us; but I
could not make out how they could have done so without our outposts giving
the alarm. Where were you when it began?"
"I was in the mess-room of the Mayos, when one of the servants ran in to
say that there was a row. Directly afterwards the alarm-bells began to
ring, the colonel at once gave orders for the regiment to be got under
arms, and I ran back to the general for orders; and I must have passed you
somewhere on the road. Did you ever see such cowards as these Spaniards?
Though there are arms enough in the town for every man to bear a
musket--and certainly the greater portion of them have weapons of some
sort or other--I did not see a man with arms of any kind in his hand."
"I noticed the same thing," Trevor said. "It is disgusting. It was evident
that the sole thought that possessed them was as to their own wretched
lives. I have no doubt that, if they could have had their will, they would
have disarmed all our troops, in order that no resistance whatever should
be offered. And yet only yesterday the fellows were all bragging about
their patriotism, and the bravery that would be shown should the French
make their appearance. It makes one sick to be fighting for such people."
The following afternoon Terence went up to the convent.
"Well, O'Connor, have you heard how it all began?" the colonel asked, as
he went into the mess-room.
"No one seems to know at all, Colonel. The authorities are making
inquiries, but, as far as I have heard, nothing has taken place to account
for it."
"It reminds me," the colonel said, shutting one eye and looking fixedly at
Terence, "of a certain affair that took place at Athlone."
"I was thinking the same myself," Terence replied, quietly, "only the
scare was a good deal greater here than it was there; besides, a good many
of the townspeople in Athlone did turn out with guns in their hands,
whereas here, I believe every man in the town hid his gun in his bed
before running out."
"I always suspected you of having a hand in that matter, Terence."
"Did you, Colonel?" Terence said, in a tone of surprise. "Well, as,
fortunately, I was sitting here when this row began, you cannot suspect me
this time."
"I don't know; you and Ryan came in together, which was suspicious in
itself, and it was not two minutes after you had come in that the rumpus
began. Just give me a wink, lad, if you had a finger in the matter. You
know you are safe with me; besides, ain't you a staff-officer now, and
outside my jurisdiction altogether?"
"Well, Colonel, a wink does not cost anything," Terence said, "so here is
to ye."
He exchanged a wink with the colonel, who burst into a fit of laughter so
loud that he startled all the other officers, who at once came up to hear
the joke.
"It is just a little story that Terence has been telling me," the colonel
said, when he had recovered his breath, "about the scare last night, and
how a young woman, with next to nothing on her, threw her arms round his
neck and begged him to save her. The poor young fellow blushed up to his
eyelids with the shame of it in the public streets!"