The Young Buglers

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XIII.

  ALBUERA.

  Very heavily did five months in the lines of Torres Vedras pass to theNorfolk Rangers. When, in the beginning of November, Massena fell backto Sautarem, the greater portion of the army followed him in readinessfor attack should any openings be found. Massena, however, entrenchedhimself in a very strong position, and Wellington could no more attackhim than he could attack the lines of Torres Vedras; so that botharmies faced each other in inactivity until the beginning of March,when Massena broke up his camp and began to retreat.

  The Norfolk Rangers had been one of the regiments which had remainedin their quarters on Torres Vedras throughout the winter, and greatwas the joy with which they received orders to strike their tentsand push on in pursuit. The retreat of Massena was masterly. Ney'sdivision covered the rear, and several sharp fights took place whichare known in history as the combats of Pombal, Redinha, Cazal Nova,Foz d'Aronce, and Sabugal.

  In most of these the enemy were driven from their position by theBritish outflanking them and threatening their line of retreat; but inthe last, by a mistake of General Erskine, a portion of his divisionattacked the enemy in rear, and, although vastly outnumbered, drovehim off from the crest he held with desperate valor. Wellingtonhimself said, "This was one of the most glorious actions Britishtroops were ever engaged in."

  The next day the French crossed the Coa and Turones, and took up theirposition under the guns of Ciudad Rodrigo, which they had left sixmonths before with the full assurance that they were going to conquerPortugal, and drive the British into the sea. The invasion costMassena thirty thousand men, killed in battle, taken prisoners, ordead from hardships, fatigues and fevers.

  The Scudamores were not present at the battle of Sabugal, for on theafternoon after the combat of Foz d'Aronce an orderly rode up to theregiment and handed a note to the colonel. He read it, and at oncesummoned the Scudamores at his side.

  "An order from the commander-in-chief," he said, "for you to go to himat once."

  Following the orderly, the boys soon arrived at the cottage at whichLord Wellington had established his headquarters.

  "His lordship is with Lord Beresford," the aide-de-camp to whom theygave their names said, "but the orders are that you are to be shown inat once."

  The lads were ushered into a small room, where, seated at a table,were the commanders-in-chief of the British and the Portuguese troops.

  "Young gentlemen," the former said, looking up with his keen piercingeyes, "I have not seen you since your return from Spain. I am contentwith what you did, and with the detailed report you sent me in. Ishall keep my eye upon you. Lord Beresford has asked me for twoofficers as aides-de-camp, and he specially requires them to have aperfect knowledge of Spanish. I have mentioned your names to him. Itis not often that I confidently recommend young officers, but fromwhat I know of you I have felt able to do so in the present case. Youwill, with him, have opportunities of distinguishing yourselvessuch as you could not have with your regiment. You accept theappointments?"

  Tom and Peter would far rather have remained with their regiment,but they felt that, after what Lord Wellington had said, they couldnot refuse; they consequently expressed at once their willingnessto serve, and their thanks to the general for his kindness inrecommending them.

  "You can ride, I hope?" Lord Beresford, a powerfully-built,pleasant-looking man, said.

  "Yes, sir, we can both ride, but at present--"

  "You have no horses, of course?" Lord Beresford put in. "I willprovide you with horses, and will assign servants to you from one ofthe cavalry regiments with me. Will you join me at daybreak to-morrow?we shall march at once."

  There was a general expression of regret when the Scudamores informedtheir comrades that they were again ordered on detached duty. Asto Sam, when Tom told him that he could not accompany them, he wasuproarious in his lamentations, and threatened to desert from hisregiment in order to follow them. At this the boys laughed, and toldSam that he would be arrested and sent back before he had gone sixhours.

  "I tink, Massa Tom, dat you might hab told de general dat you hab gotan fust-class serbent, and dat you bring him wid you."

  "But we shall be mounted now, Sam, and must have mounted men with us.You can't ride, you know."

  "Yes, massa, dis child ride first-rate, he can."

  "Why, Sam, I heard you say not long ago you had never ridden on ahorse all your life."

  "Never hab, massa, dat's true 'nuff; but Sam sure he can ride. Berryeasy ting dat. Sit on saddle, one leg each side--not berry difficultdat. Sam see tousand soldiers do dat ebery day; dey sit quite easy onsaddle; much more easy dat dan beat big drum."

  The boys laughed heartily at Sam's notion of riding without practice,and assured him that it was not so easy as he imagined.

  "Look here, Sam," Peter said at last, "you practice riding a little,and then next time we get away we will ask for you to go with us." Andwith this Sam was obliged to be content.

  Half an hour later, when the boys were chatting with Captain Manley,Carruthers, and two or three other officers, in the tent of thefirst-named officer, they heard a commotion outside, with shouts oflaughter, in which they joined as soon as they went out and saw whatwas going on.

  Sam, upon leaving the Scudamores, determined at once upon trying theexperiment of riding, in order that he might--for he had no doubt allwould be easy enough--ride triumphantly up to his masters' tent andprove his ability to accompany them at once. He was not long beforehe saw a muleteer coming along sitting carelessly on his mule, withboth legs on one side of the animal, side-saddle fashion, as is thefrequent custom of muleteers. It was evident, by the slowness of hispace, that he was not pressed for time.

  Sam thought that this was a fine opportunity.

  "Let me have a ride?" he said to the muleteer in broken Portuguese.

  The man shook his head. Sam held out a quarter of a dollar. "There,"he said, "I'll give you that for a hour's ride."

  The muleteer hesitated, and then said, "The mule is very bad temperedwith strangers."

  "Oh, dat all nonsense," Sam thought, "he only pretend dat as excuse;any one can see de creature as quiet as lamb; don't he let his mastersit on him sideways?"

  "All right," he said aloud, "I try him."

  The muleteer dismounted, and Sam prepared to take his place on thesaddle. By this time several of the Rangers had gathered round, andthese foreseeing, from the appearance of the mule and the look of slyamusement in the face of the muleteer, that there was likely to besome fun, at once proposed to assist, which they did by giving adviceto Sam of the most opposite nature. Sam was first going to mount onthe off side, but this irregularity was repressed, and one wag, takingthe stirrup of the near side in his hand, said, "Now, Sam, up you go,never mind what these fellows say, you put your right foot in thestirrup, and lift your left over the saddle."

  Sam acted according to these instructions, and found himself, to hisintense amazement and the delight of the bystanders, sitting with hisface to the mule's tail.

  "Hullo," he exclaimed in astonishment, "dis all wrong; you know notingabout de business, you Bill Atkins."

  And Sam prepared to descend, when, at his first movement, the mule putdown his head and flung his heels high in the air. Sam instinctivelythrew himself forward, but not recovering his upright position beforethe mule again flung up her hind quarters, he received a violentblow on the nose. "Golly!" exclaimed the black in a tone of extremeanguish, as, with water streaming from his eyes, he instinctivelyclutched the first thing which came to hand, the root of the mule'stail, and held on like grim death. The astonished mule lashed outwildly and furiously, but Sam, with his body laid close on her back,his hands grasping her tail, and his legs and feet pressing tight toher flanks, held on with the clutch of despair.

  "Seize de debil!--seize him!--he gone mad!"--he shouted frantically,but the soldiers were in such fits of laughter that they could donothing.

  Then the mule, finding that he could not get
rid of this singularburden by kicking, started suddenly off at full gallop.

  "Stop him--stop him," yelled Sam. "Gracious me, dis am drefful."

  This was the sight which met the eyes of the Scudamores and theirbrother officers as they issued from their tents. The soldiers wereall out of their tents now, and the air rang with laughter mingledwith shouts of "Go it, moke!" "Hold on, Sam!"

  "Stop that mule," Captain Manley shouted, "or the man will be killed."

  Several soldiers ran to catch at the bridle, but the mule swerved anddashed away out of camp along the road.

  "Look, look," Tom said, "there are the staff, and Lord Wellingtonamong them. The mule's going to charge them."

  The road was somewhat narrow, with a wall of four feet high on eitherside, and the general, who was riding at the head of the party, drewhis rein when he saw the mule coming along at a furious gallop. Thestaff did the same, and a general shout was raised to check or diverther wild career. The obstinate brute, however, maddened by the shoutswhich had greeted her from all sides, and the strange manner in whichshe was being ridden, never swerved from her course. When she waswithin five yards of the party, the general turned his horse, touchedhim with his spur, and leaped him lightly over the wall; one or twoothers followed his example, but the others had not time to do sobefore the mule was among them. Two horses and riders were throwndown, one on either side, with the impetus of the shock, and then,kicking, striking and charging, the animal made its way past theothers and dashed on in despite of the attempts to stop her, andthe cries of "Shoot the brute," "Ride him down," and the angryejaculations of those injured in its passage. Thirty yards behind thegroup of officers were the escort, and these prepared to catch themule, when turning to the left she leaped the wall, eliciting a screamof terror from Sam, who was nearly shaken from his hold by the suddenjerk.

  The anger of the officers was changed into a burst of amusement atseeing Sam's dark face and staring eyes over the mule's crupper, andeven Lord Wellington smiled grimly. An order was hastily given, andfour troopers detached themselves from the escort and started off inpursuit. The mule was, however, a fast one, and maddened by fright,and it was some time before the foremost of the troopers was up toher. As he came alongside, the mule suddenly swerved round and lashedout viciously, one of her heels coming against the horse's ribs, andthe other against the leg of the rider, who, in spite of his thickjack-boot, for some time thought that his leg was broken.

  He fell behind, and the others, rendered cautious by the lesson, cameup but slowly, and prepared to close upon the animal's head, onefrom each side. Just as they were going to do so, however, they werestartled by a scattered fire of musketry, and by the sound of ballswhizzing about their ears, and discovered that in the ardor of thechase they had passed over the space which separated the French fromthe English lines, and that they were close to the former. At the samemoment they saw a party of cavalry stealing round to cut off theirretreat. Turning their horses, the dragoons rode off at full speed,but the French cavalry, on fresher horses, would have caught thembefore they reached the English lines had not a troop of British horsedashed forward to meet them upon seeing their danger. As to the mule,she continued her wild gallop into the French lines, where she wassoon surrounded and captured.

  The boys were greatly vexed at the loss of their faithful black, butthey had little time for grieving, for an hour after they rode offwith General Beresford's division. Three days' march brought themto Campo Mayor, a town which had, two days before, surrendered tothe French, who, surprised by the sudden appearance of the British,evacuated the place hastily and retreated, after suffering much froma brilliant charge of the 13th Hussars, who, although unsupported,charged right through the French cavalry, and Beresford then preparedto lay siege to Badajos. Had he pushed forward at once, he would havefound the place unprepared for a siege, but, delaying a few days atElvas to give his tired troops repose, the French repaired the walls,and were in a position to offer a respectable defense, when he madehis appearance under its walls. The army was very badly provided withheavy guns, but the approaches were opened and the siege commenced inregular form, when the news arrived that Soult was marching with apowerful army to its relief. The guns were therefore withdrawn, thesiege raised, and Beresford marched to meet Soult at Albuera.

  On the 15th of May he took up his position on rising ground lookingdown on Albuera, having the river in his front. Acting with him, andnominally under his orders, was a Spanish force under Blake. Thiswas intended to occupy the right of the position, but with the usualSpanish dilatoriness, instead of being upon the ground, as he hadpromised, by noon, Blake did not arrive until past midnight; theFrench accordingly crossed the river unmolested, and the Britishgeneral found his right turned.

  Beresford's position was now a very faulty one, as the woodscompletely hid the movements of the enemy, and a high hill, which theyhad at once seized, flanked the whole allied position and threatenedits line of retreat.

  When the morning of the 16th dawned the armies were numerically veryunequal. The British had 30,000 infantry, 2,000 cavalry, and 38 guns;the French, 19,000 infantry, 4,000 cavalry, and 40 guns; but of thesethe French were all veteran troops, while Beresford had but 6,000British troops, the remainder being Spanish and Portuguese, uponwhom no reliance whatever was to be placed. The British officerspresent were all of opinion that their chances of success, underthe circumstances, were slight indeed.

  The battle commenced at nine in the morning by an attack by the Frenchgeneral Godinot upon the bridge of Albuera. Their columns were,however, so completely plowed by the guns of the Portuguese uponthe eminence behind it, that they made no progress, and Beresfordperceived at once that the main attack would be made on his right. Hedespatched Tom Scudamore with orders to Blake to throw back his troopsat right angles to the main front. The pig-headed Spaniard refused toobey, asserting that the main attack was in front. Colonel Hardingewas sent to insist upon the order being carried out, but Blake stillrefused, and Beresford himself rode furiously across and took thecommand just as the French column debouched from the wood on theright.

  Before the Spanish movement was completed the French were among them.Their cavalry swept round to the right rear, and menaced the line ofretreat, the infantry charged the wavering Spanish battalions, and thelatter at once fell into confusion and began to fall back. WilliamStewart now arrived with a brigade of the second division to endeavorto retrieve the day; but as they were advancing into position, fourregiments of French cavalry, whose movements were hidden in thedriving rain until they were close at hand, fell upon them and rodedown two-thirds of the brigade, the 31st regiment alone having timeto form square and repulse the horsemen.

  Beresford himself, with his staff, was in the middle of the melee, andthe lads found themselves engaged in hand-to-hand combats with theFrench troopers. All was confusion. Peter was unhorsed by the shockof a French hussar, but Tom shot the trooper before he could cut Peterdown. Free for a moment, he looked round, and saw a French lancercharging, lance at rest, at Lord Beresford. "Look out, sir!" heshouted, and the general, turning round, swept aside the lance thrustwith his arm; and as the lancer, carried on by the impetus of hischarge, dashed against him, he seized him by the throat and waist,lifted him bodily from his saddle, and hurled him insensible tothe ground. Just at this moment General Lumley arrived with somePortuguese cavalry, and the French lancers galloped off.

  The Spanish cavalry, who had orders to charge the French cavalry inflank, galloped up until within a few yards of them, and then turnedand fled shamefully.

  Beresford, now furious at the cowardice of the Spanish infantry,seized one of their ensigns by the shoulder, and dragged him, with hiscolors, to the front by main force, but the infantry would not eventhen advance.

  The driving rain saved the allied army at this critical moment, forSoult was unable to see the terrible confusion which reigned in theirranks, and kept his heavy columns in hand when an attack would havecarried with it certain victory. />
  In the pause which ensued, the British regiments began to make theirway to the front. Colbourn, with the 31st Regiment, was already there;Stewart brought up Haughton's brigade; and the 29th burst its waythrough the flying Spaniards and joined the 31st, these movementsbeing made under a storm of shot and shell from the French artillery.Colonel Hartman brought up the British artillery, and the Spanishgenerals Zayas and Ballesteros succeeded in checking and bringingforward again some of the Spanish infantry.

  The French advanced in great force, the artillery on both sides pouredin grape at short distance, and the carnage was terrible. Still thelittle band of British held their ground. Stewart was twice wounded,Haughton and Colonels Duckworth and Inglis slain. Of the 57th Regimenttwenty-two officers and four hundred men fell out of the five hundredthat had mounted the hill, and the other regiments had suffered nearlyas severely. Not a third were standing unhurt, and fresh columns ofthe French were advancing.

  The battle looked desperate, and Beresford made preparations for aretreat. At this moment, however, Colonel Hardinge brought up GeneralCole with the fourth division, and Colonel Abercrombie with the thirdbrigade of Colbourn's second division. Beresford recalled his orderfor retreat, and the terrible fight continued. The fourth division wascomposed of two brigades, the one, a Portuguese under General Harvey,was pushed down to the right to keep off the French cavalry, while theFusilier brigade, composed of the 7th and 23rd fusilier regiments,under Sir William Myers, climbed the desperately contested hill, whichAbercombie ascended also, more on the left.

  It was time, for the whole of the French reserves were now coming intoaction; six guns were already in the enemy's possession, the remnantof Haughton's brigade could no longer sustain its ground, and theheavy French columns were advancing exultantly to assured victory.

  Suddenly, through the smoke, Cole's fusilier brigade appeared onthe right of Haughton's brigade, just as Abercrombie came up on itsleft. Startled by the sight, and by the heavy fire, the French columnpaused, and, to quote Napier's glowing words, "hesitated, and then,vomiting forth a storm of fire, hastily endeavored to enlarge theirfront, while a fearful discharge of grape from all their artillerywhistled through the British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole and thethree colonels, Ellis, Blakeney and Hawkshawe, fell wounded; and thefusilier battalions, struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggeredlike sinking ships; but suddenly and sternly recovering, they closedwith their terrible enemies, and then was seen with what a strengthand majesty the British soldier fights. In vain did Soult with voiceand gesture animate his Frenchmen; in vain did the hardiest veteransbreak from the crowded columns and sacrifice their lives to gain timefor the mass to open out on such a fair field; in vain did the massitself bear up, and, fiercely striving, fire indiscriminately uponfriends and foes, while the horsemen hovering on its flank threatenedto charge the advancing line. Nothing could stop that astonishinginfantry; no sudden burst of undisciplined valor, no nervousenthusiasm weakened the stability of their order; their flashing eyeswere bent on the dark columns in their front, their measured treadshook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away the head of everyformation, their deafening shouts overpowered the dissonant cries thatbroke from all parts of the tumultuous crowd, as, slowly and withhorrid carnage, it was pushed by the incessant vigor of the attack tothe farthest edge of the hill. In vain did the French reserves mixwith the struggling multitude to sustain the fight; their efforts onlyincreased the irremediable confusion, and the mighty mass breaking offlike a loosened cliff, went headlong down the steep; the rain flowedafter in streams discolored with blood, and eighteen hundred unwoundedmen, the remnant of six thousand unconquerable British soldiers, stoodtriumphant on the fatal hill."

  While this dreadful fight was going on, Hamilton's and Collier'sPortuguese divisions, ten thousand strong, marched to support theBritish, but they did not reach the summit of the hill until thebattle was over; they suffered, however, a good deal of loss from theFrench artillery, which, to cover the retreat, opened furiously uponthem.

  The French were in no position to renew the attack, the allies quiteincapable of pursuit, and when night fell the two armies were in thesame position they had occupied twenty-four hours before.

  Never was British valor more conspicuously displayed than at thebattle of Albuera. Out of 6,000 infantry they lost 4,200 killed andwounded, while the Spanish and Portuguese had but 2,600 killed andwounded out of a total of 34,000; the French loss was over 8,000.

  This desperate fight had lasted but four hours, but to all engagedit seemed an age. The din, the whirl, the storm of shot, the fiercecharges of the cavalry, the swaying backwards and forwards of thefight, the disastrous appearance of the battle from the first, allcombined to make up a perfectly bewildering confusion.

  The Scudamores, after its commencement, had seen but little of eachother. Whenever one or other of them found their way to the general,who was ever in the thickest of the fray, it was but to remain therefor a moment or two before being despatched with fresh messages.

  Tom's horse was shot under him early in the day, but he obtained aremount from an orderly and continued his duty until, just as the daywas won, he received a musket ball in the shoulder. He half fell, halfdismounted, and, giddy and faint, lay down and remained there untilthe cessation of the fire told him that the battle was over. Then hestaggered to his feet and sought a surgeon. He presently found onehard at work under a tree, but there was so large a number of woundedmen lying or sitting round, that Tom saw that it would be hours beforehe could be attended to. As he turned to go he saw an officer of thestaff ride by.

  "Ah, Scudamore! Are you hit too?--not very badly, I hope? The chiefwas asking after you just now."

  "My shoulder is smashed, I think," Tom said, "and the doctor has hishands full at present; but if you will tie my arm tight across mychest with my sash, I shall be able to get on."

  The officer at once leapt from his horse, and proceeded to bind Tom'sarm in the position he requested.

  "Have you seen my brother," Tom asked.

  "No, I have not; he was close to Beresford when the fusiliers dashedup the hill; his horse fell dead, but he was not hit, for I saw himjump up all right. I did not see him afterwards. As he could not havegot a fresh mount then, I expect he joined the fusiliers and went upthe hill."

  "Is the loss heavy?" Tom asked.

  "Awful--awful," the officer said. "If it had lasted another quarter ofan hour, there would have been nobody left alive; as it is, there arenot 2,000 men at the outside on their feet."

  "What, altogether?" Tom exclaimed.

  "Altogether," the officer answered sadly. "We have lose two men out ofevery three who went into it."

  "Thank you," Tom said. "Now where shall I find the general?"

  "Up on the hill. I shall see you there in a few minutes. I hope youwill find your brother all right."

  Very slowly did Tom make his way up the steep slope, sitting down torest many times, for he was faint from loss of blood and sick with thepain of his wound, and it was a long half hour before he joined thegroup of officers clustered round the commander-in-chief.

  He was heartily greeted; but in answer to his question as to whetherany one had seen his brother, no one could give a satisfactory reply.One, however, was able to confirm what had been before told to him,for he had seen Peter on foot advancing with the fusilier brigade.Tom's heart felt very heavy as he turned away towards the front, wherethe fusiliers were standing on the ground they had so hardly won.The distance he had to traverse was but short, but the journey was aghastly one. The ground was literally heaped with dead. Wounded menwere seen sitting up trying to stanch their wounds, others lay feeblygroaning, while soldiers were hurrying to and fro from the watercarts, with pannikins of water to relieve their agonizing thirst.

  "Do you know, sergeant, whether they have collected the woundedofficers, and, if so, where they are?"

  "Yes, sir, most of them are there at the right flank of the regiment."

  Tom made his w
ay towards the spot indicated, where a small group ofofficers were standing, while a surgeon was examining a long line ofwounded laid side by side upon the ground. Tom hardly breathed ashe ran his eye along their faces, and his heart seemed to stop ashe recognized in the very one the surgeon was then examining thedead-white face of Peter.

  He staggered forward and said in a gasping voice, "He is mybrother--is he dead?"

  The surgeon looked up. "Sit down," he said sharply, and Tom, unable toresist the order, sank rather than sat down, his eyes still riveted onPeter's face.

  "No," the surgeon said, answering the question, "he has only faintedfrom loss of blood, but he is hit hard, the bullet has gone in justabove the hip, and until I know its course I can't say whether he hasa chance or not."

  "Here, sergeant, give me the probe," and with this he proceededcautiously to examine the course of the ball. As he did so his anxiousface brightened a little.

  "He was struck slantingly," he said, "the ball has gone round by theback; turn him over, sergeant. Ah, I thought so; it has gone out onthe other side. Well, I think it has missed any vital part, and inthat case I can give you hope. There," he said after he had finisheddressing the wound and fastening a bandage tightly round the body;"now pour some brandy-and-water down his throat, sergeant, andsprinkle his face with water. Now, sir, I will look at your shoulder."

  But he spoke to insensible ears, for Tom, upon hearing the morefavorable report as to Peter's state, had fainted dead off.

  The surgeon glanced at him. "He'll come round all right," he said."I will go on in the mean time," and set to work at the next in theghastly line.

  It was some time before Tom recovered his consciousness; when he didso, it was with a feeling of intense agony in the shoulder.

  "Lie quiet," the surgeon said, "I shan't be long about it."

  It seemed to Tom, nevertheless, as if an interminable time passedbefore the surgeon spoke again.

  "You'll do," he said. "It is an awkward shot, for it has broken theshoulder bone and carried a portion away, but with quiet and care youwill get the use of your arm again. You are lucky, for if it had gonetwo inches to the left it would have smashed the arm at the socket,and two inches the other way and it would have been all up with you.Now lie quiet for awhile; you can do nothing for your brother atpresent. It may be hours before he recovers consciousness."

  Tom was too faint and weak to argue, and a minute later he dropped offto sleep, from which he did not wake until it was dusk. Sitting up, hesaw that he had been aroused by the approach of an officer, whom herecognized as one of General Beresford's staff.

  "How are you, Scudamore?" he asked. "The general has just sent me toinquire."

  "He is very kind," Tom said. "I think that I am all right, only I amhorribly thirsty."

  The officer unslung a flask from his shoulder. "This is weakbrandy-and-water. I have brought it over for you. I am sorry to hearyour brother is so bad, but the doctor gives strong hopes of him inhis report."

  Tom bent down over Peter. "He is breathing quietly," he said. "I hopeit is a sort of sleep he has fallen into. What are we doing?"

  "Nothing," the officer answered; "there is nothing to do; everyunbounded man is under arms in case the French attack us in the night.I expect, however, they will wait till morning, and if they come onthen, I fear our chance is a slight one indeed. We have only 1,800 ofour infantry; the German regiments and the Portuguese will do theirbest; but the Spanish are utterly useless. Soult has lost more menthan we have, but we are like a body which has lost its back-bone; andif the French, who are all good soldiers, renew the battle, I fear itis all up with us."

  "Have you got all our wounded in?" Tom asked.

  "No," the officer said bitterly. "Our unwounded men must stand toarms, and Lord Beresford sent over to Blake just now to ask for theassistance of a battalion of Spaniards to collect our wounded, and thebrute sent back to say that it was the custom in allied armies foreach army to attend to its own wounded."

  "The brute!" Tom repeated with disgust. "How the poor fellows must besuffering!"

  "The men who are but slightly wounded have been taking water to allthey can find, and the doctors are at work now, and will be all nightgoing about dressing wounds. The worst of it is, if the fight beginsagain to-morrow, all the wounded who cannot crawl away must remainunder fire. However, the French wounded are all over the hill too, andperhaps the French will avoid a cannonade as much as possible, fortheir sake. It is a bad look-out altogether; and between ourselves,Beresford has written to Lord Wellington to say that he anticipates acrushing defeat."

  "Is there any chance of reinforcements?" Tom asked.

  "We hope that the third brigade of the fourth division will be upto-morrow by midday; they are ordered to come on by forced marches.If Soult does not attack till they arrive, it will make all thedifference, for 1,500 fresh men will nearly double our strength. But Imust be going now. Good-bye."

  The surgeon presently came round again to see how the wounded officerswere getting on. Tom asked him whether there was anything he could dofor Peter; but the surgeon, after feeling his pulse, said: "No, not aslong as he breathes quietly like this; but if he moves pour a littlebrandy-and-water down his throat. Now gentlemen, all who can must lookafter the others, for there is not an available man, and I must be atwork all night on the field."

  There were many of the officers who were not hit too severely to moveabout, and these collected some wood and made a fire, so as to enablethem to see and attend to their more severely wounded comrades.Tom took his place close to Peter, where he could watch his leastmovement, and once or twice during the night poured a littlebrandy-and-water between his lips. The other officers took it by turnsto attend to their comrades, to keep up the fire, and to sleep. Thosewhose turn it was to be awake sat round the fire smoking, and talkingas to the chances of the morrow, getting up occasionally to give drinkto such of the badly wounded as were awake.

  Tom, faint with his wound, found it, towards morning, impossible tokeep awake, and dozed off, to wake with a start and find that it wasbroad daylight. Soon afterwards, to his intense satisfaction, Peteropened his eyes. Tom bent over him. "Don't try to move, Peter; liequiet, old boy."

  "What's the matter?" Peter asked with a puzzled look.

  "You have been hit in the body, Peter, but the doctor means to get youround in no time. Yes," he continued, seeing Peter's eyes fixed on hisbandaged shoulder, "I have had a tap too, but there's no great harmdone. There, drink some brandy-and-water, and go off to sleep again,if you can."

  The morning passed very slowly, the troops being all under arms,expecting the renewed attack of Soult, but it came not; and when earlyin the afternoon, the third brigade of the fourth division marchedinto camp, they were received with general cheering. A heavy loadseemed taken off every one's heart, and they felt now that they couldfight, if fight they must, with a hope of success.

  The new-comers, wearied as they were with their long forced marches,at once took the outpost duties, and those relieved set about the dutyof collecting and bringing in all the wounded.

  Next morning the joyful news came that Soult was retiring, and allfelt with a thrill of triumph that their sacrifices and efforts hadnot been in vain, and that the hard-fought battle of Albuera wasforever to take its place among the great victories of the Britisharmy.