the enemy were two to our one, the result might have been
different. But the French had an English general, the Duke of Berwick,
to win the battle for them, and we had a French commander, DeRuvigny,
whom Dutch William had made Earl of Galway, to lose it for us."

"Then, after all," exclaimed Lady Mabel, "the Englishman won the
field."

"Yes, to our cost," said L'Isle, bitterly. "What made it more
provoking was, that we had at that very time the man to mate him;"
and, standing up on his stirrups, he raised his clenched hand above
his head, exclaiming: "O, for one hour of Peterborough to grapple with
his countryman and redeem the day!"

"What is the matter with Colonel L'Isle?" asked Mrs. Shortridge, who
was riding close behind with Cranfield.

"He is only leaping back to the beginning of the last century,"
answered Lady Mabel, "to reverse the issue of the battle of Almansa."

"Why, has not the colonel fighting enough before him," said Cranfield,
laughing, "that he must go back so far for more?"

"Let us be content with what we have," said L'Isle joining in the
laugh. "It is useless to dwell on old disasters but by way of shunning
new ones. It has been our constant luck to go into battle shoulder to
shoulder with allies who, except when in our pay, seldom stand by us
to the end of the day."

The river was now at hand. Turning to the right before reaching San
Christoval, they entered the _tete du pont_, and soon found themselves
on a noble granite bridge of many arches. The voices of many singers
drew their eyes to the banks of the river, where they saw all the
washerwomen of the city, collected in pursuit of their calling, and
lightening their labors with song, the burden of which, "Guadiana,
Guadiana," fell often on the ear, while the sun-beams bleached the
linen spread out on the banks of the stream, and tanned the faces of
the industrious choir chanting its praise.

"This, then, is the Guadiana!" said Lady Mabel, peeping over the
parapet. "I feel bound to admire its broad face, but miss the swift
current and pellucid waters of the poetasters, to whose bounties the
river god owes much of his fame."

"While you and our party loiter here, searching out the beauties of
the Guadiana," said L'Isle, "I will ride on and secure our peaceful
reception at the gate. A Spanish sentinel is often asleep, and apt to
prove his vigilance by firing on whoever wakes him up."

Presently following L'Isle, who luckily found the