Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER V*

  *A Roadside Adventure*

  A Spanish By-Road--Negotiations--A Rupture--A Village Inn--FamilyHistory--Antonio the Brave--A Near Thing--The OtherCheek--Explanations--Recruits--Quits

  For a few miles Jack followed the highroad, meeting no one but an oldwizened woman staggering along under a basket-load of onions. Then,thinking it well, as he approached the district in which there was apossibility of encountering the enemy's vedettes, to avoid the mainthoroughfare, he struck off to the right along what was little betterthan a cart track, discovering from his map that this would lead him tohis destination by way of Pedroso, Cantalapiedra, and Carpio, villageswhich were scarcely likely to be selected as billeting-places by anyconsiderable force. It was a dreary ride. The road was heavy with therecent rains. It passed through a country consisting partly of bareheath, partly of grain-fields, now black and desolate. He had startedfrom Salamanca shortly after eleven o'clock, and, owing to interruptionsand the state of the roads, it was nearly three in the afternoon beforehe arrived at Cantalapiedra, little more than half-way to Medina. Bythat time he was hungry, and his steed was both hungry and tired.Dismounting before a posada at the entrance to the town, he sent themule to be fed and rubbed down, and went into the house to seekrefreshment himself.

  There was no other guest in the place, and the landlord, slow and stolidlike a genuine Spaniard, showed neither pleasure nor displeasure at theappearance of a traveller. In reply to Jack's request for food, hebrought, after some delay, a basin of very greasy soup of a reddishtinge, due to the saffron with which it had been liberally sprinkled,and a dirty carafe of violet-coloured wine, which Jack found, when hepoured it out, almost thick enough to cut with a knife. The bread,however, was eatable, if a trifle salt, and Jack munched away with anappetite that evoked a gleam of interest in the landlord's solemn eyes.He began to ask questions, and indeed to show himself inquisitive,remarking on the strange fact of a young man travelling alone throughdisturbed country at such a time. Jack good-humouredly parried enquiriesthat seemed too direct, merely explaining that he had been on a visit toSalamanca, and was riding across country because, having heard rumoursthat the French were in possession of Valladolid, he had no wish to fallinto their hands. The landlord dryly told him that travelling anywherein Spain was rather dangerous for a man with good clothes on his backand money in his pocket, for if he escaped the French he might fall inwith bandits, and there was little to choose between them when plunderwas in question. In answer to this Jack opened his coat and showed theman the butt of a big Spanish pistol.

  "Even a peaceful merchant," he said with a laugh, "may prove an awkwardcustomer to tackle."

  The landlord shrugged.

  "One against a troop of French cavalry, or a gang of bandits, would farerather badly," he said. "I suppose you will want a bed to-night,Senor?"

  "Not I. I'm going to push on to Medina."

  "The saints help you to find your way in the dark, then!"

  "Oh! I shall find it. The road is direct, you know, and my mule willnot wander."

  He set off after an hour's rest and rode on in increasing darkness.What the landlord had said about brigands gave him little concern. Forone thing, the mule trod almost silently on the sodden road, and he hadremoved the bell from its neck; for another, he had avoided the highway,and did not suppose that much booty was ever to be obtained on theby-roads; and lastly, he trusted to his wits, his mule, and his pistol.As he rode on, the air grew colder and the sky darker; there was nomoon, and a thickening haze lay over the fields to right and left of theroad. It was impossible to proceed at more than a walking pace, exceptat risk of breaking the mule's knees in a rut or ditch. To divert histhoughts from the cold and the unpleasantness of his journey, he ranover in his mind the events of the last few days. He dwelt particularlyon the strange message he had received from Don Fernan Alvarez."Palafox the man, Palafox the name!"--what could it mean? How did itconcern his old playmate Juanita, whom he remembered, a littleblack-eyed child, clambering on his father's knee, and listening withher finger in her mouth to the stories told her by Mr. Lumsden, so merryand frank compared with her stiff, stately, solemn father. Palafox!--hewas a young general, with a brilliant reputation; Jack had heard ColonelBeckwith give high praise to his strenuous defence of Saragossa againstVerdier; but what likelihood was there that the chances of the campaignwould give Jack an opportunity of meeting him! Suppose he did meet him,what--

  "Buenas noches, caballero!" said a thick guttural voice at his mule'shead, breaking into his meditation, and giving him a momentary shock.

  "Buenas noches, hombre!" he replied.

  The mule had stopped short. Jack saw dimly, right in front of him, athick-set figure clad in a heavy cloak, his head covered with a pointedlarge-brimmed hat, reminding the rider of pictures he had seen ofItalian brigands.

  "O Senor caballero," said the man, "will you have the charity to tell apoor wayfarer the time?"

  Jack was on the point of pulling out his big hunting-watch, but itstruck him suddenly that it was advisable to be on his guard until hewas sure of his man.

  "Somewhere about seven o'clock, I fancy," he said courteously. "You areright in my way, my friend."

  "Si, caballero, but it is my way as well as yours."

  "It is wide enough for both of us," rejoined Jack with a smile; "and asI have some miles to ride, I shall be obliged to you if you'll standaway and let me get on."

  The man did not budge, but brought his left hand from beneath his cloakand seized the off rein.

  "Come, my friend, don't delay me. 'Tis a cold night, and the sooner Ireach my journey's end the better I shall be pleased."

  Jack spoke quietly and politely as before, but he was watching thefellow with the wariness of a hawk.

  "'Tis cold for me also, caballero; a fire and warm drink await meyonder. I am going to fight the accursed French, and it strikes me amule like yours will serve me well. I will trouble you, therefore, todismount, caballero. I perceive you are a tradesman from the town, andyou will admit the fighter is more useful to Spain than the shopkeeper.If you will do me the honour to descend, I will mount in your place."

  "Not so fast, my man," said Jack. "I don't want to hurt you, but if youcontinue to stand there you may come to grief when I whip up my mule."

  Realizing from Jack's firm tone that his object was not to be gainedwithout a struggle, the man suddenly threw off the fold of the cloakenveloping his right arm, and with a guttural oath lifted a huge mallethe carried in his hand, springing slightly aside to give his arm freeplay. The movement was fatal to him. With a sharp dig in the groinJack swung the mule round in the same direction, and launched him fullat his assailant. Before the ponderous mallet had time to complete itsswing, the mule had struck the man square in the chest, and as he reeledand fell under the blow Jack brought down his switch smartly across hisbrow.

  "That's well saved, anyhow," said Jack grimly to himself as he canteredon, and smiled as he heard the man's curses pursuing him. The muleseemed to share in his rider's feelings, for as he trotted steadily onhe lifted his head high in the air, curled up his lip, and showed hislong yellow teeth, as though laughing at the man's ignominiousoverthrow. Jack let him have his way, and the animal kept up the samepace unfalteringly, with never a slip or stumble, until he reached thesqualid streets of Medina del Campo. The curfew had just ceasedringing, and the great market-square was quite deserted; but Jackknocked at a house in which he saw a light, enquired the way to thePosada de Oriente, and in a few minutes was standing within the doorwayof that hostelry. To judge by the various voices issuing from itsinterior, it was entertaining a numerous company.

  He presented to the landlord the letter he had brought from the man'sformer master, Don Pedro, and was led with some hesitation into the inn,while his mule was handed over to an ostler. The inn consisted of onelarge apartment with a fireplace at each end, a timber roof blackened
and varnished by smoke, stalls at each side for horses and mules, andfor travellers a few small lateral chambers each containing a bed madeof planks laid across trestles, and covered with sheets of coarsesacking. "Rough lying," thought Jack, as he looked in at the open doorof one of these. The floor was of brick, strewn with rushes. A largefire burnt in one of the grates, strings of onions hung from nails onthe walls, and the place was pervaded by an odour of scalded oil andgrilled tomatos. Jack gave a comprehensive greeting to the company as heentered. A deep silence had fallen upon the room, and he was consciousof the curious scrutiny of several pairs of eyes; but knowing that theSpaniard is always reserved with a stranger until assured that he isnot, let us say, a pedlar, or a rope-dancer, or a dealer in hair-oil, hepaid the company for the moment no further attention, but sat down on aback seat pointed out by the patron, and ordered food. The landlordregretted that at short notice he could supply him with nothing but asimple gaspacho. Jack laughed inwardly at the thought of how his friendPomeroy would turn up his fastidious nose at such fare, but assured hishost that in his present state of hunger he could eat anything, and thegaspacho was accordingly prepared. Some water was poured into asoup-tureen, to this was added a little vinegar, a few pods of garlic,some onions cut into four, a slice or two of cucumber, a little spice, apinch of salt, and a few slices of bread; with this the detestablemixture was complete. As Jack began his meagre meal the landlord openedthe hidalgo's note, and Jack threw a glance round the company.

  Nearest the fire sat a lean, cadaverous old gentleman closely wrapped ina chestnut-coloured cloak, and sipping at a glass of dry Malaga. Nexthim reclined the village priest, a rotund figure clad in a blackcassock, with cloak of the same colour; he nursed on his knee an immensehat, at least three feet long, with a turned-in brim, which when uponhis head must have formed a sort of horizontal roof. Then came a coupleof arrieros, or carriers, in rough fustian, with big leather gaiters andbroad sashes of red silk; and a loutish Maragato with shaven head, cladin a long tight jacket secured at the waist by a broad girdle, loosetrousers terminating at the knees, and long boots and gaiters. A fewyoung villagers completed the circle. By this time the landlord hadspread out his old master's note, and was scrutinizing it with a puzzledexpression, his head screwed aside and his lips pursed up. After a fewmoments he appeared to come to the conclusion that he would neverdecipher the crabbed handwriting unaided, and handed it to the priest, abroad grease mark showing where his thumb had pressed it.

  "Here, Senor cura," he said, "be so good as to read it to me; DonPedro's hand is growing paralysed, surely."

  The priest took it, giving Jack a humorous smile.

  "Don Pedro merely introduces the caballero as a friend of his," he said,"and asks you, for his sake and the sake of Spain, to serve him in everypossible way."

  "To be sure," returned the landlord; "I have done it without asking. Ihave given the caballero a gaspacho, and if he will wait till Antonioarrives he shall have a puchero in addition, and a grilled tomato."

  "Thanks, landlord! I shall do very well," said Jack. "But I fear I am akill-joy, Senores. Pray don't let me interrupt your conversation."

  "The caballero, being a friend of Don Pedro, may be trusted," said thelean gentleman by the fire, taking a sip. "He is welcome, particularlyif he joins us in giving God-speed to Antonio as he goes on his way tojoin the brave guerrilleros."

  "I shall be happy," said Jack. "Antonio, I presume, is a soldier ofthis neighbourhood?"

  "Nay, Senor, all our soldiers are already with General Castanos or theMarquis of La Romana or brave San Juan, doing deeds of valour againstthe accursed French, every man of them worth three of the enemy. Were Inot old and worn, I myself would have led them, and drawn the sword ofmy ancestors in defence of my country. I am a hidalgo of noble line,Senor, tracing my descent back to a paladin who slew ten Englishmen withhis own sword, when, in the days of Great Philip, we landed in Englandand held London to ransom." (Jack opened his eyes at this new light onEnglish history!) "His blood still flows in my withered veins, and myneighbours here know well that only my great age keeps me from drivingthe French back across the mountains at the head of my troop."

  Most of the company applauded this patriotic speech, but Jack observed awhimsical look on the priest's face.

  "I rejoice to know," continued the hidalgo, "that the old valour isstill alive in the breasts of my countrymen; they are flocking in theirthousands to join the bands of guerrilleros who dog the French at everystep, and our friend Antonio, whom we expect to-night, and who leavesto-morrow for Saragossa, is one in whom the Spanish valour most brightlyshines."

  "Antonio is a journeyman cooper, Senor," said the priest confidentially,"a dare-devil by report, a contrabandista too at times, and a greatfavourite in these parts. He is expected from Cantalapiedra to-night."

  "And here he is," cried one of the younger men, who had gone to thedoor. "Late, but welcome. Viva Antonio!"

  All the company but Jack rose to their feet to greet the hero. He camehastily into the room, flung the door to behind him, bolted it, andheaved a sigh. Jack saw at a glance that he was no other than the manwho had sought to borrow his mule, and had found the apparentlyinoffensive rider tougher than he expected.

  "Senores, Senores," cried the man, "only by a miracle and by my owncourage have I escaped this night! Blessed be the saints that I have astout heart and a strong arm, or I should have been but a dead manto-night!"

  He spread himself with an air of bravado upon a low bench, and as heremoved his hat, disclosed a deep-red wale across his brow. His friendsgathered about him in consternation, and the old hidalgo rose painfullyfrom his chair, and, tottering across the room, handed a bumper ofMalaga to the panting new-comer, who quaffed it gratefully.

  "Yes, Senores," he continued, "but for the merciful protection ofSantiago and Santa Maria, and the fact that I know no fear, I shouldhave been lost to Spain, a cold corpse even now. Four miles back, as Itrudged wearily along the miry road, thinking of the kind friends andthe warm food awaiting me here--"

  "Manuel," cried the landlord to a strapping youth who stood with sleevestucked up near the fireplace, "grill a tomato for our brave Antonio."

  "As I trudged along," Antonio resumed, "all at once I heard a greatsplashing and clanking behind me, and before I could stand aside, threehorsemen were upon me. They reined up when they saw me, and one of themcalled me dog, and asked the way to Valladolid. I knew by his tonguethat he was one of the thrice-cursed French, and, commending myself toSantiago in a breath, I raised my mallet and struck him upon the head,and he fell. His comrades drew their swords and made at me over theirhorses' necks. I defended myself as best I could with my good mallet,but it was an unequal fight, Senores, and I was at my wits' end, when Ibethought me that all the French are craven curs, and I shouted aloud,as though summoning a hidden band to the rescue. The Frenchmen startedback, looked fearfully around, and then, unmindful of their dead comradeon the ground, set spurs to their horses and galloped away, one of them,as he passed, striking me--with the flat of his sword, praised beSantiago!--across the brow, and--"

  "What was he like, hombre?" asked Jack quietly, bending forward on hischair and looking the man full in the face.

  Antonio's jaw dropped. He gave a scared look at the speaker, and spiltthe remainder of his wine upon his boots.

  "The brave fellow is overcome," said the hidalgo. "Fill his glass,Manuel."

  Antonio gulped down a second glass, and looked with apprehension atJack, who was now sitting back again in his chair, keeping his eyesfixed on the abashed Spaniard.

  "A lucky escape, Antonio," said the cura with a twinkling eye. "In themorning, no doubt, some passing arriero will see the dead Frenchman onthe road, and bring him here for dog's burial."

  "No doubt, no doubt, Padre," said Antonio hurriedly. "But I am faint,Senores, and as my nose tells me the tomato is now well grilled, I wouldfain stay the pangs of hunger."

  As he devoted himself to the suc
culent fruit, the hidalgo entered upon along oration on the iniquities of the French and the heroism of theSpaniards, with particular reference to the guerrilla band in the Virgenmountains, whom Antonio was on his way to join. He concluded by callingupon the company to drink the health of the brave Antonio, and confusionto the French. When the ringing vivas had ceased, Jack rose from hischair. Approaching the hero, who looked far from comfortable, he heldout his right hand, and, laying his left on Antonio's shoulder, said:

  "I am glad that, as a chance traveller, I am here in time to add my goodwishes to so staunch a patriot. With a spirit like yours, we shall soonsucceed in driving the enemy headlong through the passes of thePyrenees. I myself hope to do something in my small way for Spain, butnothing I can do will match the valiant deeds of the brave guerrilleros,who face the rigours of winter cold on the barren mountains, and leaveall the comforts of home in their noble enthusiasm. I call upon thesons of Spain here present to drink once more a health to Antonio theguerrillero, and confusion to the French! Viva Antonio! Viva laEspana!"

  He grasped the hand of the astonished Antonio, and shook it heartily,amid the applause of the company. Antonio's look of amazement gave waygradually to one of smug content, and when, after another flowery speechfrom the hidalgo, the guests rose to take leave, the cooper had quiterecovered his wonted air of assurance.

  After the departure of his guests, the landlord was proceeding to boltthe door for the night, when Jack stopped him.

  "Don't fasten up yet, landlord," he said. "I am going fartherpresently."

  "To-night, Senor?"

  "Yes; the moon is rising, and I shall ride as far as Olmedo."

  "But, Senor, you may be set upon by French horsemen, like Antonio here."

  "I don't think so," replied Jack with a smile. "Remember, Don Pedrosent me here to claim your assistance. He assured me you are a goodpatriot, and I don't suppose you love the French any better than theSenor hidalgo, or than Antonio, eh?"

  "The French, Senor! I hate them. Every good Spaniard hates them. Weare all caballeros, Senor, and we're not going to have any masters overus but our own hidalgos and the king--our own king."

  "Have you seen anything of the French yourself?"

  "The saints forbid! They spare neither man nor beast. If they came thisway I'd have never a pig in my stye nor a copa of wine in my cellar.Antonio has seen some of them to-night, and my son Manuel told me that asquadron of dragoons passed through Olmedo and went south yesterday, andall last week parties of French horse were scouring the district northof Olmedo, playing the very devil with the people."

  "They came from Valladolid, I suppose?"

  "No doubt, Senor; Valladolid has been occupied by them for at least afortnight past. We're hoping every day that the Marquis of La Romana orGeneral Palafox will swoop down on them and slit their weasands. Ormaybe the English general Sir Moore, now at Salamanca, will come andtrounce them."

  "You know the English are at Salamanca, then? Do the French know it?"

  "Not from us, Senor. Not a man of us will give them any information."

  "Well, landlord, I'm an Englishman--"

  The man threw up his hands in amazement, and Antonio gasped. Jackwatched the effect of his announcement; he had come rapidly to theconclusion that as Antonio was clearly regarded by his friends as astaunch patriot, there would be no danger in disclosing his ownnationality.

  "And I've come this way to find out all I can about the French. I wanttwo active young fellows to help me, and I've been looking at these twofine lads--sons of yours, I take it?"

  "Yes, Senor, they are my sons. Manuel is nineteen, and his brother Juana year younger, and 'tis ten years yesterday since their poor motherwent to heaven."

  The two young men, with square-set faces and ragged shocks of blackhair, stood listening with interest. Jack had watched them narrowlyduring the evening. They had something less than the usual stolidity ofexpression, looked fairly intelligent, and appeared likely to serve himwell as special messengers.

  "They would have to be prepared for hard work," he said, "at any hour ofthe day or night. They would be well paid, of course--"

  "Senor," interrupted the landlord, "a good patriot doesn't require payfor working against the French."

  Jack thought he had heard a different account about some of his host'scountrymen, but he went on:

  "Well then, you will not object to your sons entering my service asmessengers between me and my general?"

  "But, Senor, I shall then be single-handed. Who will there be then toattend to my guests--to mix the puchero, and stir the gaspacho, and rubdown the mules? The lads could not leave their poor old father alone."

  "Caramba!" struck in Antonio, who was now devoting himself to a friedonion, "what is that? Here am I leaving my wife and three children, tofight the French."

  "You've left them before," said the landlord dryly.

  "And there's Don Pedro's letter, you know," suggested Jack.

  The landlord glanced at the letter, which lay on the table, and shruggedhis shoulders.

  "Well," he said, "I would do much for Don Pedro. He was a good master tome; he gave me the money to buy this inn; and since he asks me to serveyou and my country at the same time, I can't refuse, Senor--if the ladsare willing to go."

  They at once professed their readiness to serve the Senor in any way,and assured him that they were well acquainted with the country formiles around.

  "That's settled, then," said Jack. "Now, Manuel, you won't mind beingemployed at once? Have you any mules on the premises?"

  "Two, Senor."

  "Just the number required. You will saddle up and ride off at once toSalamanca. I will give you a note to take to Sir John Moore, theEnglish general there. If you can't find him, ask for General Paget.You can say Paget?"

  After two or three attempts, Manuel succeeded in pronouncing a passableimitation of the sound.

  "When you have delivered the note, you will return to Carpio, and waitthere for further orders. Both in going and coming you will take careto attract as little attention as possible, and of course you will notsay a word to anyone, not even to your dearest friend, about yourbusiness. You understand?"

  "Yes, Senor. And I have a friend near Carpio, a farmer, who lives abouta league out of the town, so that I can stay with him if need be."

  "Very well. Go and get your mule saddled, and return here for thenote."

  Jack wrote a few lines to Sir John, giving him the news of the passingsquadron of French horse he had just learnt from the landlord, and tenminutes later Manuel left the inn with the note and a little money toserve for his immediate needs.

  "Now, Juan," said Jack, when the elder brother had gone, "go to bed andget what sleep you can till three o'clock. At that hour I shall wantyou to start with me for Olmedo. I'm pretty tired, so I shall turn inmyself, landlord, for a brief rest, and I shall take care that yourassistance is brought to the notice of my general and also of your ownjuntas. Good-night!"

  At three o'clock, beneath a pale half-moon, Jack stood at the door ofthe inn, waiting as Juan brought up his mule. He was about to mount,when he was surprised to see Antonio issue from the door and approachhim.

  "I'm a rough common man, Senor," he said; "you're a caballero. My bigtongue will not say what I have in my heart, but I know what I owe youfor your kindness to-night. Yes, Senor, it was like a true caballeronot to remember what had happened on the road; and I say, Senor, that ifever there comes a chance to do you a good turn, por Dios! Antonio willnot forget."

  "Thanks, Antonio!" replied Jack, holding out his hand. "We'll cry quitsand part friends."

  "Vaya usted con Dios!" returned the man; and then Jack, followed byJuan, cantered up the quiet street.