ng," said Pen. "We may reach another pleasant valley,
and find a village where the people will let us beg some bread and
fruit."

"Yes, of course," said Punch, frowning; "but it don't seem nice--
begging."

"Well, we have no money to buy. What are we to do?"

"Grab," said Punch laconically.

"What--steal?" cried Pen.

"Steal! Gammon! Aren't we soldiers? Soldiers forage. 'Tain't
stealing. We must live in an enemy's country."

"But the Spaniards are not our enemies."

"There, now you are harguing, and I hate to hargue when you are hungry.
What I say is, we are soldiers and in a strange country, and that we
must take what we want. It's only foraging; so come on."

"Come along then, Punch," said Pen good-humouredly. "But you are
spoiling my morals, and--"

"Pst!" whispered Punch. "Lie down."

He set the example, throwing himself prone amongst the rough growth that
sprang up along the mountain-slope; and Pen followed his example.

"What can you see?" he whispered, as he crept closer to his comrade's
side, noting the while that as he lay upon his chest the boy had made
ready his musket and prepared to take aim. "You had better not shoot."

"Then tell them that too," whispered Punch.

"Them! Who?"

"Didn't you see?"

"I saw nothing."

"I did--bayonets, just below yonder. Soldiers marching."

"Soldiers?" whispered Pen joyfully. "They may be some of our men."

"That they are not. They are French."

French they undoubtedly were; for as the lads peered cautiously from
their hiding-place, and listened to the rustling and tramp of many feet,
an order rang out which betrayed the nationality of what seemed to be a
large body of men coming in their direction.

"Keep snug," whispered Punch, "and they won't see us. It's too close
here."

Pen gripped his companion's arm, and lay trying to catch sight of the
marching men for some minutes with a satisfied feeling that the troops
were bearing away from them. But his heart sank directly after; a
bugle-call rang out, the men again changed their direction, the line
extended, and it became plain that they would pass right over the ground
where the two lads lay.

"I am afraid they will see us, Punch," whispered Pen. "What's to be
done?"

"Run for it. Look here, make straight for that wood up the slope,"
whispered Punch. "You go first, and I will follow."

"But that's uphill," whispered Pen.

"Bad for them as for us," replied the boy. "Up with