entirely unnoticed. If you have not reported yourself by
tomorrow night, I will understand that you are taken, and I will offer
them Colonel Petrie in exchange."

Ah, how my heart swelled with pride and joy as I sprang into the saddle
and galloped this grand horse up and down to show the Marshal the
mastery which I had of him! He was magnificent--we were both
magnificent, for Massena clapped his hands and cried out in his delight.
It was not I, but he, who said that a gallant beast deserves a gallant
rider. Then, when for the third time, with my panache flying and my
dolman streaming behind me, I thundered past him, I saw upon his hard
old face that he had no longer any doubt that he had chosen the man for
his purpose. I drew my sabre, raised the hilt to my lips in salute, and
galloped on to my own quarters. Already the news had spread that I had
been chosen for a mission, and my little rascals came swarming out of
their tents to cheer me. Ah! it brings the tears to my old eyes when I
think how proud they were of their Colonel. And I was proud of them
also. They deserved a dashing leader.

The night promised to be a stormy one, which was very much to my liking.
It was my desire to keep my departure most secret, for it was evident
that if the English heard that I had been detached from the army they
would naturally conclude that something important was about to happen.
My horse was taken, therefore, beyond the picket line, as if for
watering, and I followed and mounted him there. I had a map, a compass,
and a paper of instructions from the Marshal, and with these in the
bosom of my tunic and my sabre at my side, I set out upon my adventure.

A thin rain was falling and there was no moon, so you may imagine that
it was not very cheerful. But my heart was light at the thought of the
honour which had been done me and the glory which awaited me.
This exploit should be one more in that brilliant series which was to
change my sabre into a baton. Ah, how we dreamed, we foolish fellows,
young, and drunk with success! Could I have foreseen that night as I
rode, the chosen man of sixty thousand, that I should spend my life
planting cabbages on a hundred francs a month! Oh, my youth, my hopes,
my comrades! But the wheel turns and never stops. Forgive me, my
friends, for an old man has his weakness.

My route, then, lay across the face of the high ground of Torres Vedras,
then over a streamlet, past a farmhouse whi