sentinel awake, they
reached the southern end of the bridge, and passing between two
beautiful round towers of white marble, now tinted straw-color with
age, they entered the northern gate of the city, and soon sought
hospitality at the _Posada de los Caballeros_.

Putting up their horses here, they left the servants to see that a
dinner was got ready; this meal, at a Spanish inn, depending less on
what you find there than on what you bring with you. Three Spanish
officers were lounging at the posada, one of whom immediately claimed
Cranfield's acquaintance, and introduced his companions. Cranfield did
not seem delighted to meet with him, nevertheless he presented them to
the whole party with studied politeness. Captain Don Alonzo Melendez,
with a handsome person, a swaggering air, and a costume more foppish
than military, looked more like a _majo_ of Seville than a soldier and
a gentleman. His companions had much the advantage of him there, but
he beat them hollow in assurance. Learning that curiosity alone had
brought them to Badajoz, he at once took the post of guide. Finding
that Lady Mabel knew enough of Spanish to make a good listener, he
placed himself by her side. Cranfield escorted her on the other, and
thus they walked forth. L'Isle, thrust into the background,
accompanied Mrs. Shortridge and the rest of the party.

As they drew near the works, many marks of injury and devastation on
the adjacent houses, brought the late siege prominently to their
minds. Don Alonzo Melendez at once began to discourse grandiloquently
on the subject. His narrative was so copious and inaccurate, that
Cranfield soon lost all patience, and found it hard to keep from
interrupting and contradicting him. Lady Mabel, detecting this,
encouraged the Spaniard to the uttermost by displaying rapt attention,
and full faith in his glowing narrative.

"I never before heard," said she to Cranfield, "so graphic an account
of the siege and storming of Badajoz."

"If our friend here talks about it much longer," said Cranfield, in
English, "he will forget that we had any thing to do with it. The
siege was, however, in one sense, the work of the Spaniards. If the
traitor Imaz had not sold it to Soult for a mule load of gold, we
would not have had to buy it back at the cost of so many thousands of
lives. Nor were any of them Spanish lives," he added bitterly; "though
some were Portuguese--for the only Spaniards at the siege were the
renegades wh