the news. How are matters at Torres Vedras?
Anything like movement in that quarter?"

"Nothing very remarkable. Massena made a reconnoissance some days since,
and one of our batteries threw a shower of grape among the staff, which
spoiled the procession, and sent them back in very disorderly time. Then
we've had a few skirmishes to the front with no great results,--a few
courts-martial, bad grub, and plenty of grumbling."

"Why, what would they have? It's a great thing to hold the French army in
check within a few marches of Lisbon."

"Charley, my man, who cares twopence for the French army or Lisbon or the
Portuguese or the Junta or anything about it?--every man is pondering over
his own affairs. One fellow wants to get home again, and be sent upon some
recruiting station. Another wishes to get a step or two in promotion, to
come to Torres Vedras, where even the _grande armee_ can't. Then some of us
are in love, and some of us are in debt. Their is neither glory nor profit
to be had. But here's the bishop, smoking and steaming with an odor of
nectar!"

"And our fellows, have you seen them lately?"

"I dined with yours on Tuesday. Was it Tuesday? Yes. I dined with them.
By-the-bye, Sparks was taken prisoner that morning."

"Sparks taken prisoner! Poor fellow. I am sincerely sorry. How did it
happen, Maurice?"

"Very simply. Sparks had a forage patrol towards Vieda, and set out early
in the morning with his party. It seemed that they succeeded perfectly, and
were returning to the lines, when poor Sparks, always susceptible where the
sex are concerned, saw, or thought he saw, a lattice gently open as he rode
from the village, and a very taper finger make a signal to him. Dropping a
little behind the rest, he waited till his men had debouched upon the road,
when riding quietly up, he coughed a couple of times to attract the fair
unknown; a handkerchief waved from the lattice in reply, which was speedily
closed, and our valiant cornet accordingly dismounted and entered the
house.

"The remainder of the adventure is soon told; for in a few seconds after,
two men mounted on one horse were seen galloping at top speed towards the
French lines,--the foremost being a French officer of the 4th Cuirassiers,
the gentleman with his face to the tail, our friend Sparks; the lovely
unknown being a _vieille moustache_ of Loison's corps, who had been
wounded in a skirmish some days before, and lay waiting an opportunity of
rejoin