The Bravest of the Brave — or, with Peterborough in Spain

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XIII: THE FRENCH CONVOY

  A report having arrived at the camp of the Count of Cifuentes that thepeasants around Saragossa had risen in insurrection, Jack thought thathe should be doing more good by discovering the truth of the rumor, andby keeping the earl informed of the state of things in the enemy's rear,than by remaining with the count. He hesitated whether he should takehis two orderlies with him, but as they were well mounted he decidedthat they should accompany him, as they would add to his authority, andwould, in case of need, enable him the better to assume the position ofan officer riding in advance of a considerable force.

  After a hearty adieu from the Count of Cifuentes, he started soon afterdaybreak. After riding for some hours, just as he reached the top of arise, up which he had walked his horse, one of the orderlies, who wereriding a few paces behind him, rode up.

  "I think, Captain Stilwell," he said, "I hear the sound of firing. Brownthinks he hears it too."

  Jack reined in his horse.

  "I hear nothing," he said, after a pause of a minute.

  "I don't hear it now, sir," the man said. "I think it came down on apuff of wind.. If you wait a minute or two I think you will hear it."

  Jack waited another two minutes, and then was about to resume hisjourney, when suddenly a faint sound came upon the wind.

  "You are right, Thompson," he exclaimed, "that's firing, sure enough. Itmust be a convoy attacked by peasants."

  He touched his horse with the spur and galloped forward. Two milesfurther on, crossing the brow, they saw, half a mile ahead of them inthe dip of the valley, a number of wagons huddled together. On eitherside of the road men were lying, and the spurts of smoke that rose fromthese, as well as from the wagons, proved that they were still stoutlydefending themselves. A light smoke rose from every bush and rock on thehillsides around, showing how numerous were the assailants. Leavingthe road, Jack galloped toward the hill. Presently several balls camesinging round them.

  "They think we are French, sir," one of the troopers said. "I guess theydon't know much about uniforms."

  Jack drew out a white handkerchief and waved it as he rode forward,shouting as he did, "English, English." The fire ceased, and the littleparty soon reached the spot where the peasants were lying thickly intheir ambushes.

  "I am an English officer," Jack said as he leaped from his horse. "Whereis your leader?"

  "There is one of them," a peasant said, pointing to a priest, who, witha long musket in his hand, rose from behind a log.

  "Reverend father," Jack said, "I have come from the Earl of Peterboroughwith a mission to understand how matters go in Arragon, and to ascertainwhat force would be likely to join him in this province against theinvader."

  "You see for yourself how things go," the priest said. "I am glad tosee an officer of the great Earl of Peterborough, whose exploitshave excited the admiration of all Spain. To whom have I the honor ofspeaking?"

  "I am Captain Stilwell, one of the earl's aides de camp; and you,father?"

  "I am Ignacio Bravos, the humble padre of the village of San Aldephonso.And now, Captain Stilwell, if you will excuse me till we make an end ofthese accursed Frenchmen, afterward I will be at your service."

  For another two hour's the conflict continued. Jack saw that the fireof the defenders of the wagons was decreasing, and he was not surprisedwhen a white handkerchief was raised on the top of a bayonet and wavedin the air in token of desire to parley. A shout of exultation rose fromthe Spaniards. The priest showed himself on the hillside.

  "Do you surrender?" he shouted.

  "We surrender the wagons," an officer called back, "on condition that weare allowed to march off with our arms without molestation."

  A shout of refusal rose from the peasants, and the firing was instantlyrenewed. Jack went and sat down by the side of the priest.

  "Father," he said, "it were best to give these men the terms they ask.War is not massacre."

  "Quite so, my son," the priest replied coolly. "That is what you shouldhave told Marshal Tesse. It is he who has chosen to make it massacre.Why, man, he has shot and hung hundreds in cold blood in and aroundSaragossa, has burned numerous villages in the neighborhood, and putman, woman, and child to the sword."

  "Then, if this be so, father, I should say, by all means hang MarshalTesse when you catch him, but do not punish the innocent for the guilty.You must remember that these men have been taken away from theirhomes in France, and forced to fight in quarrels in which they have noconcern. Like yourself, they are Catholics. Above all, remember how manyscores of villages are at present at the mercy of the French. If thenews comes to the marshal that you have refused quarter to his soldiers,he will have a fair excuse for taking vengeance on such of yourcountrymen as may be in his power."

  "There is something in that," the priest said. "For myself I have nopity, not a scrap of it, for these Frenchmen, nor would you have, hadyou seen as much of their doings as I have, nor do I think that anyretribution that we might deal out to the men could increase Tesse'shatred and ferocity toward us."

  "Still, it might serve as an excuse," Jack urged. "Remember the eyesof Europe are upon this struggle, and that the report of wholesaleslaughter of your enemies will not influence public opinion in yourfavor."

  "Public opinion goes for nothing," the priest said shortly.

  "Pardon me, father," Jack replied. "The English and Dutch and the Dukeof Savoy are all fighting in your favor, and we may even boast that hadit not been for the Earl of Peterborough and the allies the chains ofFrance would be riveted firmly round your necks. You will tell me, nodoubt, that they are fighting for their own political ends, and from notrue love for the Spanish people. That may be so, but you must rememberthat although governments begin wars it is the people who carry them on.Let the people of England and Holland hear, as they will hear, of thebrutal ferocity of the French marshal on a defenseless people, and theirsympathies will be strongly with you. They will urge their governmentsto action, and vote willingly the necessary sums for carrying on thewar. Let them hear that with you too war is massacre, that you take noprisoners, and kill all that fall into your hands, and, believe me, thepublic will soon grow sick of the war carried on with such cruelty onboth sides."

  "You are right, my son," the priest said frankly. "Young as you are, youhave seen more of the world than I, who, since I left the University ofSalamanca, have never been ten miles from my native village. I will dowhat I can to put a stop to this matter. But I am not solely in commandhere. I lead my own village, but there are the men of a score ofvillages lying on these hills. But I will summon all the chiefs to acouncil now."

  The priest called half a dozen of the peasants to him, and dispatchedthem with orders to bring all the other leaders to take part in acouncil with an English officer who had arrived from the great Earl ofPeterborough.

  In half an hour some twenty men were assembled in a little hollow on thehillside, where they were sheltered from the fire of the French. Fouror five of these were priests. There were two or three innkeepers. Theremainder were small landed proprietors. Father Ignacio first addressedthem. He stated that the English officer had come on a mission from theearl, and had arrived accidentally while the fight was going on, andthat he was of opinion that the French offer of surrender should beaccepted. A murmur of dissent went round the circle.

  "I was at first of your opinion," the priest said, "but the reasonswhich this English officer has given me in support of his advice havebrought me round to his way of thinking. I will leave him to state themto you."

  Jack now rose to his feet, and repeated the arguments which he had usedto the priest. He gathered from the faces of his hearers that, althoughsome were convinced that mercy would be the best policy, others werestill bent upon revenge. Father Ignacio then, in language which hethought best suited to touch his hearers, repeated Jack's arguments,urging very strongly the vengeance which the French marshal would besure to take upon the Spanish population of the country through which
hewas passing when he heard the news.

  "Besides," Jack said, when he had finished, "you must remember you havenot conquered the enemy yet. I see the officer has withdrawn all his menamong the wagons, where their shelter will be nearly as good as yours.They have, doubtless, abundant stores of ammunition in those wagons,together with food and wine, and if you force them to fight to the lastman they can hold out for a very long time, and will inflict a heavyloss upon your men before they are overcome."

  "But why should they take their weapons with them?" one of the men said;"they will be useful to us. Why should we let them carry them away tokill more Spaniards?"

  "The reason why I would let them take their arms is this," Jack said."Unless they march away armed you will not be able to restrain yourfollowers, who will be likely to break any convention you may make andto massacre them without mercy. As to the arms being used again againstyou, I will put the officers under their parole that they and their menshall not take any further part in the war until they are exchanged foran equal number of prisoners taken by the French."

  "Who would trust to a Frenchman's word?" a man asked scoffingly.

  "I would trust to a French officer's word as much as to that of anEnglish officer," Jack replied. "You would expect them to trust to yourword that they should be safe if they laid down their arms; and yet, asyou know, you might not be able to keep it. Better a thousand timesthat a handful of French officers and men should be allowed to join theenemy's ranks than that the national honor of Spain should be soiled bya massacre perpetrated just after a surrender."

  "The Englishman is right," Father Ignacio said positively. "Let us wasteno further words on it. Besides, I have a reason of my own. I startedbefore daybreak without breakfast and have got nothing but a piece ofdry bread with me. If we don't accept these fellows' surrender we maybe on the hillside all night, and I told my servant that I should havea larded capon and a flask of my best wine for dinner. That is anargument, my sons, which I am sure comes home to you all; and remember,if we accept the surrender we shall soon quench our thirst on the goodwine which, I doubt not, is contained in some of the barrels I see downyonder."

  There was a hearty laugh and the question was settled; and it wasarranged at once that Father Ignacio, one of the other leaders, and Jackshould treat with the enemy. The other leaders hurried away to theirrespective sections to order them to cease firing when a white flag wasraised; and, having given them twenty minutes to get to their severalposts, a white handkerchief was waved in the air. The Spanish fireceased at once, and as soon as the French perceived the flag they alsostopped firing.

  "We are coming down, three of us, to discuss matters with you," FatherIgnacio shouted out.

  The three accordingly descended the hill, and when within a shortdistance of the wagons were met by the officer in command of the convoyand two others.

  "We have come to discuss the terms of your surrender," Jack said. "I amCaptain Stilwell, one of Lord Peterborough's aides de camp. You see yourposition is desperate."

  "Not quite desperate," the French officer replied; "we have plenty ofammunition and abundance of provisions, and can hold out for a longtime, till rescue comes."

  "There is little chance of rescue," Jack said. "Your marshal has hishands full where he is; and even did he hear of your situation anddetach a force back to your rescue, neither of which he is likely to do,that force would have to fight every foot of its way, and assuredly notarrive in time. Nor is there any more chance of your receiving succorfrom the rear. You have made a gallant defense, sir, and might perhapshold out for many hours yet; but of what use is it sacrificing the livesof your men in a vain resistance?"

  "What is your proposal?" the officer asked.

  "We propose," Jack said, "to allow you to march out with your arms andfive rounds of ammunition to each man, on you and your officers givingme your parole to consider yourselves and your men as prisoners of war,and not to serve again until exchanged."

  The terms were far better than the French officer had looked for.

  "I may tell you," Father Ignacio said, "that for these terms you areindebted solely to this English officer. Had it depended upon us only,rest assured that no one of you would have gone away alive."

  "You will understand," Jack said, "that you will be allowed to take yourarms solely as a protection against the peasants, who have been justlyenraged by the brutal atrocities of your general. You know well thateven could their leaders here obtain from their followers a respect forthe terms of surrender, your men would be massacred in the first villagethrough which they passed were they deprived of their arms. My friendshere are desirous that no stigma of massacre shall rest upon the Spanishhonor, and they have therefore agreed to allow your men to keep theirarms for purposes of defense on their return march."

  After a few words with his fellow officers the commander of the convoyagreed to the terms. "You will, however," he said, "permit me totake with me one or more wagons, as may be required, to carry off mywounded?"

  This was at once agreed to, and in ten minutes the two companies ofFrench infantry were in readiness to march. There were forty woundedin the wagons, and twenty-seven dead were left behind them. The Frenchofficer in command, before marching off, thanked Jack very heartily forhis interference on their behalf.

  "I tell you frankly, Captain Stilwell," he said, "that I had no hopeswhatever that I or any of my men would leave the ground alive, for theseSpaniards invariably massacre prisoners who fall into their hands. Icould not have left my wounded behind me; and even if I had resolvedto do so, the chances of our fighting our way back in safety would havebeen small indeed. We owe you our lives, sir; and should it ever be inthe power of Major Ferre to repay the debt, you may rely upon me."

  "I trust that the fortune of war may never place me in a position when Imay need to recall your promise," Jack said, smiling; "but should it doso, I will not fail to remind you if I get a chance."

  All was now ready for the march. Two wagons which had been hastilyemptied were, with the wounded men, placed in the center, and theFrench, numbering now less than a hundred, started on their march. TheSpanish peasants remained in their places on the hillside till they haddeparted, as the leaders had agreed that it was better they should bekept away from the vicinity of the French, as a quarrel would becertain to take place did they come to close quarters. The peasantswere indignant at what they deemed the escape of their enemies; but thedesire of plunder soon overcame other considerations, and as soon as theFrench had marched off they poured down from the hills. Their leaders,however, restrained them from indiscriminate plundering. There were inall eighty-seven wagons loaded with wine, corn, flour, and provisionsfor the use of the army.

  An equal division was made of these among the various bands of peasantsin proportion to their strength. A few casks of wine were broached. Thepeasants then buried their own dead--who were very few in number, sosecurely had they been sheltered in their hiding places--and then theforce broke up, each party marching with its proportion of wagons backto its village.

  "Now, Signor Capitano," Father Ignacio said, "I trust that you will comehome with me. My village is six miles away, and I will do my best tomake you comfortable. Hitherto you have seen me only as a man of war. Ican assure you that I am much more estimable in my proper character as aman of peace. And let me tell you, my cook is excellent; the wine ofthe village is famous in the province, and I have some in my cellars tenyears old."

  "I cannot resist such a number of good arguments," Jack said, smiling,"and till tomorrow morning I am at your service; but I warn you thatmy appetite just at present is ravenous, and that my two dragoonsare likely to make a serious inroad upon the larders of your village,however well supplied."

  "They will be welcome," the priest said, "and I guarantee the larderswill prove sufficiently well stocked. Fortunately, although nearly everyvillage in the neighborhood has been raided by the French, owing to ourgood fortune and the interposition of the blessed San Aldephonso ourvilla
ge has escaped a visit."

  The party under Father Ignacio soon turned off from the main road, and,with the six wagons which fell to their share, journeyed along a. roughcountry road until they reached the village. Father Ignacio sat on theleading wagon, and Jack rode alongside chatting with him. The priest wasa stout built man, with a good humored countenance and merry twinkle ofthe eye, and Jack wondered what could have been the special wrong thatinduced him to take up a musket and lead his flock to the attack of aFrench convoy.

  "Katherine!" he shouted as the wagon stopped in front of his house anda buxom serving woman appeared at the door, "dinner as quickly aspossible, for we are starving; and let it be not only quick, butplentiful. Lay a cover for this gentleman, who will dine with me; andprepare an ample supply of food in the kitchen for these two Englishsoldiers, who have come across the sea to fight for the good cause.

  "And now," he said to Jack, "while dinner is preparing I must distributethe spoil."

  The wagons were unloaded and their contents divided among the men whohad take a part in the expedition, his flock insisting upon the padretaking a bountiful share.

  The mules and bullocks in the wagons were similarly divided, in thiscase one being given to each family; for there were but thirty animals,while the fighting contingent from the village had numbered nearlyeighty men. There were five or six animals over when the division hadbeen made, and these were given, in addition to their proper share, tothe families of three men who had been killed in the fight.

  "Now, my sons," the padre said when all was done, "take your axes andfall upon the wagons. A wagon is a thing to swear by. Every man knowshis own goods; and should the French ever visit our village again thesewagons might cost us dear. Therefore let them be made into firewood asquickly as possible, and let them all be consumed before other fuel istouched. And now, capitano, I think that Katherine will be ready forus."

  So saying he led the way back into his house. A capital meal wasprovided, and Jack found that the priest had by no means over praisedeither his cook or his cellar. After the meal was over and the two haddrawn their chairs up to the hearth, on which was blazing brightly somewood which Jack recognized as forming part of one of the wagons, and thepriest had placed on a small table close at hand a large flask which hehad himself gone into the cellar to fetch, Jack said:

  "How is it, father, that, as you told me, you have seen such actsof brutality on the part of the French as to cause you to wage a warwithout mercy against them, when, as you say, they have never penetratedto your village? Your reasons must be strong, for your profession is apeaceful one. You do not look like a man who would rush into deeds ofviolence for their own sake, and your cook and your cellar offer youstrong inducements to remain at home."

  "That is so, my son," the priest said with a laugh. "I am, as you maysee, an easygoing man, well contented with my lot, and envy not theBishop of Toledo; but you know it is said that even a worm will turn,and so you have seen the peaceful priest enacting the part of thebloodthirsty captain. But, my son,"--and his face grew grave now--"youcan little imagine the deeds which the ferocious Tesse has enactedhere in Arragon. When warring with you English the French behave likea civilized nation; when warring with us Spanish peasants, who have nomeans of making our wrongs known to the world, they behave worse thana horde of brutal savages. But I will tell you the circumstances whichhave driven me to place myself at the head of my parishioners, to wage awar of extermination with the French, and to deny mercy to every one ofthat accursed nation who may fall into my hands. I have a brother--orrather I should say I had one--a well to do farmer who lived at avillage some six miles from Saragossa. He had an only daughter, who wasto be married to the son of a neighboring proprietor. A handsome, highspirited lad he was, and devoted to Nina. They were to have been marriedsome three months ago, and they wrote to me to go over to perform theceremony.

  "I went; the wedding day arrived, and all was ready. It was a holiday inthe village, for both were favorites. The bride was dressed; the villagemaidens and men were all in their best; the procession was about to setout, when a troop of dragoons rode suddenly in from Saragossa. A shotor two had been fired at them as they rode through a wood. When theyarrived they dismounted, and the commander ordered the principal menof the village to be brought to him. My brother and the father of thebridegroom were among them.

  "'My troops have been fired at,' the Frenchman said, 'and I hold youresponsible.'

  "'It was no one from this village,' my brother said; 'we have a weddinghere, and not a soul is absent.'

  "'I care not,' the officer said; 'we have been fired at, and we shallgive the people of this district a lesson.'

  "So without another word he turned to his soldiers and ordered them tofire the village from end to end.

  "'It is outrageous,' my brother said, and the others joined him in thecry. I, too, implored him to pause before having such an order carriedinto execution. His only reply was to give the order to his men.

  "The six principal men were seized at once, were set with their backsagainst the wall of a house, and shot."

  "You cannot mean it!" Jack exclaimed indignantly. "Surely such anoutrage could never be perpetrated by civilized soldiers?"

  "I saw it done," the priest said bitterly. "I tried to throw myselfbetween the victims and their murderers, but I was held back by forceby the soldiers. Imagine the scene if you can--the screaming women, theoutburst of vain fury among the men, The bridegroom, in his despairat seeing his father murdered, seized a stick and rushed at the Frenchofficer; but he, drawing a pistol, shot him dead, and the soldierspoured a volley into his companions, killing some eight or ten others.Resistance was hopeless. Those who were unwounded fled; those who fellwere bayoneted on the spot. I took my niece's arm and led her quietlyaway. Even the French soldiers drew back before us. You should have seenher face. Madre de Dios! I see it now--I see it always. She died thatnight. Not one word passed her lips from the moment when her father andher affianced husband fell dead before her eyes. An hour later the trooprode off, and the people stole back to bury their dead among the ashesof what had been their homes. I went to Saragossa after reading thefuneral service over them. I saw Tesse and told him of the scene Ihad witnessed, and demanded vengeance. He laughed in my face. Senor, Ipersisted, and he got angry and told me that, were it not for my cloth,he would hang me from the steeple. I called down Heaven's curse uponhim, and left him and came home. Do you wonder, senor, that I found ithard to spare those Frenchmen for whom you pleaded? Do you wonder thatI, a man of peace, lead out my villagers to slaughter our enemy?"

  "I do not, indeed!" Jack exclaimed warmly. "Such acts as these wouldstir the blood of the coldest into fire; and, priest or no priest, a manwould be less than a man who did not try to take vengeance for so foul adeed. Have many massacres of this sort been perpetrated?"

  "Many," the priest replied, "and in no case has any redress beenobtained by the relatives of the victims."

  "And throughout all Arragon, does the same hatred of the Frenchprevail?"

  "Everywhere," the priest said.

  "Then King Charles would meet with an enthusiastic welcome here!"

  "I do not say that," the priest answered. "He would be well received,doubtless, simply because he is the enemy of the French; but forhimself, no. We Arragonese cannot for the life of us see why we shouldbe ruled over by a foreigner; and in some respects a German king is evenless to be desired than a French one. The connection between the twoLatin nations is naturally closer than between us and the Germans, anda French king would more readily adapt himself to our ways than would astiff and thick headed German.

  "Apart from the recent doings of the French army Arragon would havepreferred Philip to Charles. Moreover, Charles is looked upon as thechoice of the Catalans and Valencians, and why should the men of Arragontake the king others have chosen? No, King Charles will doubtless bereceived well because he appears as the enemy of the French; but youwill not find that the people of Arragon will make any
great sacrificesin his behalf. Let a French army enter our province again, every manwill rise in arms against it; but there will be little disposition toraise troops to follow King Charles beyond the limits of the province.Castile is strong for Philip; the jealousy there of the Catalans is evengreater than here, and the fact that Arragon will go with Catalonia andValencia will only render the Castilians more earnest in the cause ofPhilip. There have been several skirmishes already between bands of ourMiquelets and those of Castile, and the whole country along the borderis greatly disturbed."

  "It is a pity that Spaniards cannot agree among themselves as to whoshall be king."

  "Ah, my son, but it will be very long yet before. Spaniards agree uponany point. It is a mistake to think of us as one nation. We are halfa dozen nations under one king. If you are asked your nationality,you reply an Englishman. If you ask a Spaniard, he will reply, I ama Castilian or a Catalan, an Arragonese or Biscayan--never I am aSpaniard. We hate each other as you Scotchmen and Englishmen hated eachother a hundred years back, and even now regard yourselves as differentpeoples. What connection is there between the hardy mountaineer of thenorthern provinces and the easygoing peasant of Valencia or Andalusia?Nothing. Consequently, if one part of Spain declares for one man as aking, you may be sure that the other will declare against him.

  "As long as we had great men, Spaniards, for our kings--and the descentwent in the regular way from father to son--things went smoothly,because no pretender could have a shadow of claim. As between twoforeign princes, each man has a right to choose for himself. Were thereany Spaniard with a shadow of claim, all parties would rally round him;but, unfortunately, this is not so; and I foresee an epoch of war andtrouble before the matter is settled. For myself, I tell you I would notgive that flask of wine were I able to put the crown upon the head ofone or other of these foreigners. Let whoever gets the crown govern welland strongly, tax my villagers lightly, and interfere in no way with ourprivileges, and I shall be well content, and such you will find is theopinion of most men in Spain. And now, tell me if there is aught that Ican do for you. You say you must be on your way by daybreak. Tell mein which direction you journey, and it will be hard if I cannot finda friend there with whom my introduction will insure you a heartywelcome."

  "If you can tell me where are the largest gatherings of Miquelets, Ican tell you which way I shall ride," Jack replied. "My mission is toascertain what aid the king can rely upon in this province."

  "Three days ago there were many thousands of men under arms," the priestreplied; "by tonight there will be less than as many hundreds. The dayTesse crossed the frontier with his army the greater portion of thebands went to their homes, and their arms will be laid aside until thenews comes that the French army is on its return from Barcelona. Ifancy there is but little chance of our seeing King Charles among us.In another day or two Tesse will be before Barcelona; and joined, as hewill be there, by the French army marching down from Roussillon, he willmake quick work of that town, and King Charles will have the choice ofgoing to Valencia to be hunted shortly thence, or of sailing away againfrom the country in your ships."

  "It would seem like it," Jack agreed; "but you are reckoning without theEarl of Peterborough."

  "Your English general must be a wonder," the priest said, "a marvel; buthe cannot accomplish impossibilities. What can he do with two orthree thousand trained troops against twenty thousand veteran Frenchsoldiers?"

  "I cannot tell what he will do," Jack laughed; "but you may rely uponit that he will do something, and I would take fair odds that he willsomehow or other save Barcelona and rid Catalonia of its invaders."

  "That I judge to be altogether impossible," the priest replied."Anything that man could do I am ready to admit that your generalis capable of; but I do not judge this to be within the range ofpossibilities. If you will take my advice, my son, you will not lingerhere, but will ride for Valencia and embark on board your ships with himwhen the time comes."

  "We shall see," Jack said, laughing. "I have faith in the improbable. Itmay not be so very long before I drop in again to drink another flaskof your wine on my way through Arragon with King Charles on his marchtoward Madrid."

  "If you do, my son, I will produce a bottle of wine to which this isbut ditch water. I have three or four stored away in my cellar which Ipreserve for great occasions. They are the remains of the cellar of mypredecessor, as good a judge of wine as ever lived. It is forty yearssince he laid them by, and they were, he said, the best vintage he hadever come across. Had the good old man died ten years earlier, whata heritage would have been mine! but in his later years he was not sosaving as it behooves a good man to be, and indulged in them on minoroccasions; consequently, but two dozen remained when I succeeded to thecharge twenty years ago. I, too, was not sufficiently chary of them tobegin with, and all but six bottles were drunk in the first ten years.Since then I have been as stingy as a miser, and but two bottles havebeen opened."

  "I hope, father, that you have laid in a similar supply for whomsoevermay come after you."

  "Surely I have, my son. Fifteen years ago I had a hogshead of thefinest vintage in the neighborhood bricked up in my cellar. I had aninscription placed on the wall by which, should I be taken suddenly, mysuccessor may know of the store that awaits him. At present you wouldnot find the inscription did you search for it; for when those troublesbegan I filled up the letters in the stone with mortar, and gave thewall two or three coats of whitewash. I did not choose to run any riskof my grand wine going down the throats of thirsty French soldiers. Itwould be an act of sacrilege. When matters are settled, and we are atpeace again, I will pick out the mortar from the letters; but not tillthen. I have often reflected since how short sighted it was not to havestowed away another hogshead for my own consumption. It would have beensomething to have looked forward to in my declining years."

  "Ah, father, who knows what may happen before that? The wall may falldown, and then naturally you would wish to see whether the wine is inas good a condition as it should be. Besides, you will say to yourself,why, when my successor left me but a miserable two dozen of that grandwine of his, should I bequeath a whole hogshead to him who may comeafter me, and who, moreover, may be so bad a judge of wine that he willvalue my treasure no more than an equal quantity of the rough countryvintage?"

  "Avaunt, tempter!" the priest said, laughing. "But," he added moreseriously, "you have frightened me. I never thought of that. I havealways pictured my successor as a man who would appreciate good wineas I do myself. Truly, it would be a terrible misfortune did he notdo so--a veritable throwing of pearls before swine. Now that you havepresented this dreadful idea it will be ever in my mind. I shall nolonger think of my hogshead with unmixed satisfaction."

  "The idea is a terrible one, truly," Jack said gravely, "and to preventit I would advise you when the time of peace arrives to open yourcave, to bottle off your wine, and to secure its being appreciated byindulging in it yourself on special occasions and holidays, taking carealways to leave a store equal to, or even superior to, that which youyourself inherited."

  "I will think it over, my son, and it may be that I shall take youradvice. Such a misfortune as that which you have suggested is tooterrible to think of."

  "It is so, father, terrible indeed; and I feel confident that you willdo the best in your power to prevent the possibility of its occurrence.Besides, you know, wine may be kept even too long. I judge you not to bemore than forty-five now; with so good a cook and so good a cellar youmay reasonably expect to live to the age of eighty; there is, therefore,plenty of time for you to lay in another hogshead to mature for yoursuccessor."

  The priest burst into a roar of laughter, in which Jack joined him.

  "Your reasoning powers are admirable," he said when he recovered hisgravity, "and you have completely convinced me. An hour ago if it hadbeen suggested to me that I should open that cellar I should have viewedthe proposal with horror; now it seems to me that it is the very bestthing that could be do
ne for all parties, including the wine itself."

  There was some further chat as to the course which Jack would follow inthe morning, and he decided finally to ride to the borders of Castilein order that he might learn as much as possible as to the feelingof people in that province. Father Ignacio gave him a letter ofintroduction to the priest in charge of a village a mile or two withinthe border of Arragon, and the next morning Jack started at daybreak,after a hearty adieu from his host, who insisted on rising to see himoff.