MADRID.
The French sentries, who had been watching with surprise the slow
approach of two peasant boys, the one carrying a child, the other
assisting a woman clad in handsome, but torn and disheveled clothes,
on seeing the latter fall, called to their comrades, and a sergeant
and some soldiers came out from a guard-room close by.
"Hallo!" said the sergeant. "What's all this? Who is this woman? And
where do you come from?"
The boys shook their heads.
"Of course," the sergeant said, lifting the lady, "they don't
understand French; how should they? She looks a lady, poor thing. Who
can she be, I wonder?"
"General Reynier," Tom said, touching her.
"General Reynier!" exclaimed the sergeant to his comrades. "It must be
the general's wife. I heard she was among those killed or carried off
from that convoy that came through last night. Jacques, fetch out
Captain Thibault, and you, Noel, run for Dr. Pasques."
The officer on guard came out, and, upon hearing the sergeant's
report, had Madame Reynier at once carried into a house hard by, and
sent a message to the colonel of the regiment. The little girl, still
asleep, was also carried in and laid down, and the regimental doctor
and the colonel soon arrived. The former went into the house, the
latter endeavored in vain to question the boys in French. Finding it
useless, he walked up and down impatiently until a message came down
from the doctor that the lady had recovered from her fainting fit, and
wished to see him at once.
Tom and Peter, finding that no one paid any attention to them, sat,
quietly down by the guard-house.
In a few minutes the French colonel came down. "Where are those boys?"
he exclaimed hastily. There was quite a crowd of soldiers round the
house, for the news of the return of General Reynier's wife and child
had circulated rapidly and created quite an excitement. "Where are
those boys?" he shouted again.
The sergeant of the guard came forward.
"I had no orders to keep them prisoners, sir," he said in an
apologetic tone, for he had not noticed the boys, and thought that
he was going to get into a scrape for not detaining them; but he
was interrupted by one of the soldiers who had heard the question,
bringing them forward.
To the astonishment of the soldiers, the colonel rushed forward, and,
with a Frenchman's enthusiasm, actually kissed them. "Mes braves
garçons!" he exclaimed. "Mes braves garçons! Look you, all of you,"
he exclaimed to the soldiers, "you see these boys, they are heroes,
they have saved, at the risk of their own lives, mark you, General
Reynier's wife and daughter; they have braved the fury of that
accursed Nunez and his band, and have brought them out from that den
of wolves." And then, in excited tones, he described the scene as he
had heard it from Madame Reynier.
At this relation the enthusiasm of the French soldiers broke out in
a chorus of cheers and excited exclamations. The men crowded round
the boys, shook them by the hands, patted them on the back, and in a
hundred strange oaths vowed an eternal friendship for them.
After a minute or two, the colonel raised his hand for silence. "Look
you," he said to the men. "You can imagine that, after what these boys
have done, their life is not safe for a moment. This accursed Nunez
will dog them and have them assassinated if he can. So I leave them to
you; you will take care of them, my children, will you not?"
A chorus of assurances was the reply, and the boys found themselves as
it were adopted into the regiment. The soldiers could not do enough
for them, but, as neither party understood the other's language,
the intercourse did not make much progress. They had, however, real
difficulty in refusing the innumerable offers of a glass of wine or
brandy made to them by every group of soldiers as they moved about
through the village.
The boys felt that their position was a false one; and although, in
point of fact, they had no report to make upon the regiment, still
the possibility that if discovered they might be thought to have been
acting as spies on men who treated them with so much friendliness was
repugnant to them. However, their stay was not to be prolonged, for
the regiment had already been stationed for a month at the village,
and was to be relieved by another expected hourly from France, and was
then to go on to Madrid. This they learned from one of the soldiers
who could speak a few words of Spanish.
It was upon the third day after their arrival that the expected
regiment came in, and next morning the boys started soon after
daybreak with their friends. They had not seen Madame Reynier during
their stay in the village, for she was laid up with a sharp attack of
illness after the excitement she had gone through. She was still far
from fit to travel, but she insisted on going on, and a quantity of
straw was accordingly laid in a cart, pillows and cushions were heaped
on this, and an awning was arranged above to keep off the sun. The
regiment had taken on the transport animals which had come in with the
baggage of the troops the night before; hence the mule drivers and
other followers were all strangers. The boys were marching beside the
regiment, talking with one of the sergeants who had been previously
for two years in Spain, and spoke a little Spanish, when the colonel,
who had been riding alongside Madame Reynier, told them as he passed
on to the head of the regiment, that she wished to speak to them.
The boys fell out, and allowed the troops and the line of baggage
animals and carts to pass them. As the latter came along, Tom observed
one of the Spanish drivers glance in their direction, and immediately
avert his head.
"Peter, that fellow is one of Nunez's band; I will almost swear to his
face. No doubt he has joined the convoy for the purpose of stabbing us
on the first opportunity. I expected this. We must get rid of them at
once."
The boys had both been furnished with heavy cavalry pistols by order
of the colonel, to defend themselves against any sudden attack, and,
placing his hand on the butt in readiness for instant use, Tom,
accompanied by his brother walked up to the Spaniard.
"You and those with you are known," he said. "Unless you all fall out
at the next village we come to, I will denounce you, and you haven't
five minutes to live after I do so. Mind, if one goes on you all
suffer."
The Spaniard uttered a deep execration, and put his hand on his knife,
but seeing that the boys were in readiness, and that the French
baggage guard marching alongside would certainly shoot him before he
could escape, he relinquished his design.
"Mind," Tom said, "the first village; it is only a mile ahead, and
we shall probably halt there for five minutes; if one of you goes a
single foot beyond it, you will swing in a row."
So saying, the boys dropped behind again until Madame Reynier's cart
came along. The sides were open, and the lady, who was sitting up,
supported by pillows, with her child beside her, saw them, and called
to them to climb up to her. They did so at once, and she then poured
forth her thanks in tones of the deepest gratitude.
"My husband is not at Madrid," she said when she saw by the boys'
confusion that they would be really glad if she would say no more;
"but when he hears of it he will thank you for saving his wife and
child. Of course," she went on, "I can see that you are not what you
seem. Spanish boys would not have acted so. Spanish boys do not speak
English. That makes it impossible for me in any way to endeavor to
repay my obligation. Had you been even Spanish peasants, the matter
would have been comparatively easy; then my husband could have made
you rich and comfortable for life; as it is--"
She paused, evidently hoping that they would indicate some way in
which she could serve them.
"As it is, madam," Tom said, "you can, if you will, be of great
service to us by procuring for us fresh disguises in Madrid, for I
fear that after what happened with Nunez our lives will not be safe
from his vengeance anywhere in Spain. Already we have discovered that
some of his band are accompanying this convoy with the intention of
killing us at the first opportunity."
"Why do you not denounce them instantly?" Madame Reynier said, rising
in her excitement and looking round.
"We cannot well do that," Tom said, "at least not if it can be
avoided. They know already that we have recognized them, and will
leave at the next village; so we are safe at present, but in Madrid we
shall be no longer so. We cannot remain permanently under the guard of
the bayonets of the 63d Line; and indeed our position is as you may
guess, a false and unpleasant one, from which we would free ourselves
at the first opportunity. We shall therefore ask you, when you get to
Madrid, to provide us with fresh disguises and a pass to travel west
as far as the limits of the French lines."
"You can consider that as done," Madame Reynier answered; "I only
regret that it is so slight a return. And now," she said lightly, to
change the conversation, "I must introduce you to this young lady.
Julie," she asked in French, "do you remember those boys?"
"Yes," Julie said; "these are the boys who gave mamma and Julie water
when those wicked men would not give us anything to drink when we were
thirsty; and it was these boys that mamma said prevented the wicked
men from killing us. They are good boys, nice boys, but they are very
ragged and dirty."
Madame Reynier smiled, and translated Julie's answer.
"You know," she went on, hesitatingly, "that I know that--that you are
English officers. I heard you say so when you saved us. But how is it
that you can be officers so very young?"
Tom explained that in England the officers entered for the most part
directly, and not, as in the French army, by promotion from the ranks,
and that, consequently, the junior officers were much younger than
those of equal rank in the French service.
The convoy had now reached the village, and a halt was ordered,
and the boys alighting, walked forward to see that their unwelcome
attendants quitted them. As the soldiers fell out from their order of
march and sat down under the shade of the houses many of the Spaniards
with the baggage-train followed their example, and the boys saw the
man to whom they had spoken go up to four others, and in a short time
these separated themselves from the rest, went carelessly round a
corner, and when the order came to continue the march, failed to make
their appearance. Their absence passed unnoticed save by the boys,
for the natives frequently took advantage of the passage of troops
and convoys to travel from one part of the country to another, for
the guerillas were for the most part little better than brigands,
and would plunder their own countrymen without scruple whenever the
opportunity was favorable.
The march to Madrid was accomplished without adventure, and the boys
improved the occasion by endeavoring to pick up as many French phrases
as they could, as they marched along by the side of the sergeant who
had specially taken them under his charge. He knew a little Spanish,
so they managed to keep up a conversation with him in a strange medley
of the two languages, which helped to pass the time away merrily. At
Madrid they took up their quarters in the barracks with the regiment;
they had already explained their plan of disguise to Madame Reynier,
and she had promised to provide all that was necessary and to obtain
the military pass for them.
They had soon reason to congratulate themselves that their stay
in Madrid was under the protection of French bayonets. During the
day after their arrival they remained quietly in barracks, as the
appearance of two Spanish peasants walking about the street with
French soldiers would have excited comments. In the evening, however,
they agreed with their friend the sergeant, who was going into the
town with three or four of his comrades, that they should accompany
them, not, however, walking actually with them, but following a few
paces behind, so as to be within reach of their assistance should any
one molest them.
They reached the Piazza del Sol, the great central square of Madrid,
without incident, and amused themselves with the sight of the constant
stream of people passing to and fro, the ladies in their graceful
black mantillas, the men in cloaks and Spanish sombreros, or round
felt hats. Presently the sergeant and his companions left the square,
and turning down one of the narrow streets which run into it, amused
themselves by looking into the shops, with their gay fans, bright
handkerchiefs, and other articles of Spanish manufacture.
Tom and Peter followed their example, keeping some ten paces behind
them. It was now nearly dark, and the streets were but badly lighted
except by the lamps in the shop windows.
"It may be all fancy, Tom," Peter said, "but I can't help thinking
that we are followed. There are three follows who have passed us
twice, and I am pretty sure they are particularly noticing us. Keep
your hand on your pistol."
As the boys paused at another shop window, the three men again
approached, this time from ahead.
"Look out, Tom," Peter said sharply.
As the men came up to them, one of them exclaimed,
"Now!"
The boys faced round, pistol in hand, with a cry to their friends,
just as the three Spaniards, with drawn knives, were upon them.
The sudden movement disconcerted them, and two sprang back from the
leveled tubes of the pistols, with fierce oaths of surprise, the
third, however, rushed in and struck at Tom; the latter instinctively
moved aside, and the knife inflicted a heavy gash on the shoulder, and
almost at the same moment Peter's bullet crashed through the fellow's
skull.
His comrades, with a cry of rage, rushed in, but before they could
strike, the sergeant was up and ran one through the body with his
sword, whereon the other fled. The whole affair lasted only three
or four seconds. In less than a minute the street was absolutely
deserted, for rows and fights were so common between the soldiers and
the people, that all prudent people got out of the way the moment a
knife was drawn.
"Well done, lad," the sergeant said to Peter, "I thought your brother
was done for. Luckily I had faced your way when the fellow attacked
you, and was on my way to help you before they began, but I feared I
should be too late. That was a wonderfully pretty snap shot of yours,
and you were as cool as old hands. Peste! I don't know what to make
of you boys. Now come along, we had better get away from this carrion
before any one comes up and asks questions. First, though, let me tie
up your shoulder."
This was soon done, and while the sergeant was engaged upon it, his
comrades, old soldiers, turned over the dead Spaniards, searched their
pockets, and chuckled as they found several gold pieces.
One or two French soldiers alone came near them before they left the
spot, attracted by the sound of the pistol. A word from the sergeant,
"These scoundrels attacked us, they have got their _coup_," satisfied
them, and the boys and their friend soon regained the crowded main
street, leaving the bodies for the watch to find and bury.
Arrived at the barracks, Tom's arm was examined by the surgeon, and
the cut pronounced a deep flesh wound, but of no consequence; it was
soon strapped up, and with his arm in a sling Tom went down to the
sergeant's quarters, where they slept. Here they had to go through
much patting on the back, for their friend had described the readiness
and coolness with which they stood at bay, and popular as they were
before they were now more so than ever. For the rest of their stay in
Madrid the boys did not stir out of barracks. One at least of Nunez's
envoys they knew to be alive, and he could enlist any number of the
lower class against them, so they resolved not to go out until they
should finally start.
After a fortnight's stay they were sent for to the colonel's quarters,
where they found Madame Reynier and her child. "I had a letter from my
husband this morning," she said, "from his camp near Cordova, thanking
you with all his heart for the inestimable service you rendered him,
and begging me to tell you that you can count on his gratitude to the
extent of his life at any and all times. You need no assurance of
mine. And now about your journey. All is prepared for you to leave
to-morrow morning. You are to come here to the colonel's quarters soon
after daybreak. Here are your two disguises, for the one as a young
bachelor of medicine, for the other as a young novice. Here is your
pass, signed by the minister, authorizing you both to pass on to your
relations at Ciudad Rodrigo, and to go unmolested thence where you
choose, also recommending you to the care of all French and Spanish
authorities. A regiment marches to-morrow morning for the frontier;
the colonel is a cousin of my husband. I have told him that some
friends of yours rendered me much kindness and service on my way down,
and that I particularly commend you to his care. He has promised to
allow you to follow the regiment, and to see that you get quarters at
each halting-place. He does not know you for anything but what you
appear to be. When you have put on these dresses to-morrow morning,
step out by the private door from these quarters, looking carefully
when you start to see that there is no one in the street. Then go
boldly to No. 15, Rue St. Geronimo; go into the courtyard, there you
will see two stout mules with all necessaries, under charge of a
soldier, who will have instructions to hand them over to you without
asking any questions; then go down to the Retiro and wait till the
16th come along. The Colonel will be on the look-out for you, and you
will ride up to him and hand him this note. And now farewell, dear
boys; never shall I forget you, or cease to pray for you, and may be
when this terrible war is over we may meet as friends again. Keep
these little tokens of remembrance of your grateful friends." So
saying, Madame Reynier pressed into the boys' hands two magnificent
gold watches and chains, held her child up for each of them to kiss,
threw her arms round their necks and kissed them herself, and then
drawing down her veil to conceal the tears which were standing in her
eyes, left them hastily.
That night the boys said good-by to their friend the sergeant, and
to those soldiers with whom they had most companionship. "You have
guessed, no doubt, sergeant," Tom said, in his mixture of Spanish and
French, "that we are not exactly what we seem to be, but if we should
ever meet again, under different circumstances, I want you to remember
that our connection with the regiment has been in a way forced upon
us. I should not like you to think, that is that under the pretence
of friendship, we have been treacherously learning things. Do you
understand?"
"I understand, mes braves," the sergeant said, "Jacques Pinteau is no
fool, and he saw from the first that you were not two ragged Spanish
peasant boys by birth. I daresay I can guess what you are, but there
need be no ill-will for that, and as you only came among us by
accident, as it were, there is no more to be said either way. There is
one thing certain, wherever or however we meet, we shall be friends."
So well were Madame Reynier's plans arranged that the boys passed from
Madrid to the frontier without a single hitch or unpleasantness. Tom
was soberly attired as a student at the university, Peter was muffled
up to the eyes as a timid young novice, going from school to enter a
convent, of which his aunt was lady superior, at Ciudad Rodrigo. The
colonel, and, following his example, the officers of the regiment were
polite and civil. The marches were of easy length, the mules stout
and smooth-going, with well-filled traveling sacks. The weather was
delightful, and the boys enjoyed the fortnight's march exceedingly.
Upon the road they learned that Massena had laid siege to Ciudad
Rodrigo, and that the 16th was on its way to join the besieging army.
It was the end of June, 1810, when the 16th joined Massena's force
before Ciudad Rodrigo. The siege had continued for some time, the
British light division, under General Craufurd, lay upon the other
side of the river Agueda, which separated them alike from the town and
the French army. The colonel of the 16th politely expressed to Tom his
regret that he could not, for the present, conduct them to their final
destination, but that he hoped that the gate would soon be open for
them. Tom thanked him for the civility which he had shown them upon
the road, and said that he would, with his sister, take up his abode
for the present a few miles from the beleaguered fortress. On leaving
the regiment the boys went higher up the Agueda to the little town of
Villar, where there was a bridge. This however, was watched by the
troops of both armies, and there was, at present, no chance of
affecting a passage.