t that this is a little Spanish village which
the French have been occupying as a sort of hospital."

"But where's all the fighting?"

"I don't know, Punch, much more than you do. There was some firing last
night. I heard a good deal of tramping close at hand, as if some more
men were marching in, and then more and more came through the night, and
I heard firing again about a couple of hours ago; but it seemed to be
miles away."

"And you don't know who's beat?"

"I know nothing, I tell you, only that everything has been very quiet
for the last hour or so."

"Perhaps because you have been asleep," said Punch.

"No; I have been quite awake, fetching water from a mountain-stream here
for the poor fellows who keep asking for more and more."

"Do they know we are English?"

"I don't think so. Poor fellows! their wounds keep them from thinking
about such a thing as that; and, besides, I am just able to understand
what they say, and to say a few words when they ask for drink or to be
moved a little."

"Oh," said Punch, "that comes of being able to talk French. Wish I
could. Here, I say, you said the doctor had been doing up my wound
again. Think I could walk now?"

"I am sure you couldn't."

"I ain't," said the boy. "Perhaps I could if I tried."

"But why do you ask?" said Pen. "Because it's so jolly nice and dark;
and, besides, it's all so quiet. Couldn't we slip off and find the way
to our troops?"

"That's what I've been thinking, Punch, ever since you have been lying
here."

"Of course you would," said the boy in an eager whisper. "And why not?
I think I could manage it, and I'm game."

"You must wait, Punch, and with me think ourselves lucky that we are
still together. Wait and get strong enough, and then we will try."

"Oh, all right. I shall do what you tell me. But I say, what's become
of your rifle and belt?"

"I don't know. I saw them once. They were with some muskets and
bayonets laid in the mule-wagon under the straw on one side. But I
haven't seen them since."

"That's a pity," sighed the boy faintly; and soon after Pen found, when
he whispered to him, that he was breathing softly and regularly, while
his head felt fairly cool in spite of the stifling air of the crowded
hut.

Punch did not stir till long after sunrise, and when he did it was to
see that, utterly exhausted, his companion had sunk into a deep sleep,
for the rest of that terrible night had been spent in tryi