The Bravest of the Brave — or, with Peterborough in Spain, G. A. Henty [intellectual books to read .txt] 📗

the English uniform was sufficient to insure obedience, and without any adventure of importance Jack and his companions rode on, until, on the third day after leaving Valencia, they approached Lerida. Groups of armed peasants hurrying in the same direction were now overtaken. These saluted Jack with shouts of welcome, and he learned that, on the previous day, Marshal Tesse with his army had crossed from Arragon into Catalonia, and that the alarm bells had been rung throughout the district.

From the peasants Jack learned where the Count of Cifuentes would be found. It was in a village among the hills, to the left of the line by which the enemy were advancing. It was toward this place that the peasants were hastening. Jack had frequently met the count at the siege of Barcelona, and had taken a strong liking for the gallant and dashing Spanish nobleman. The village was crowded with peasants armed with all sorts of weapons—rough, hardy, resolute men, determined to defend their country to the last against the invaders. A shout of satisfaction arose as Jack and his two troopers rode in, and at the sound the count himself appeared at the door of the principal house in the village.

“Ah, Senor Stilwell,” he said, “this in an unexpected pleasure. I thought that you were with the earl in Valencia.”

“So I have been, count, but he has sent me hither with a dispatch for you, and, as you will see by its contents, places me for awhile at your disposal.”

“I am pleased indeed to hear it,” the count said; “but pray, senor—”

“Captain, count,” Jack said with a smile, “for to such rank the earl has been pleased to promote me as a recognition for such services as I was able to perform in his campaign against Valencia.”

“Ah,” the count said, “you earned it well. Every man in that wonderful force deserved promotion. It was an almost miraculous adventure, and recalled the feats of the Cid. Truly the days of chivalry are not passed; your great earl has proved the contrary.”

They had now entered the house, and, after pouring out a cup of wine for Jack after the fatigue of his ride, the count opened the dispatch of which Jack was the bearer.

“It is well.” he said when he had read it. “As you see for yourself I am already preparing to carry out the first part, for the alarm bells have been ringing out from every church tower in this part of Catalonia, and in another twenty-four hours I expect six thousand peasants will be out. But, as the earl says, I have no hope with such levies as these of offering any effectual opposition to the advance of the enemy.

“The Miquelets cannot stand against disciplined troops. They have no confidence in themselves, and a thousand Frenchmen could rout six thousand of them; but as irregulars they can be trusted to fight. You shall give me the advantage of your experience and wide knowledge, and we will dispute every pass, cut off their convoys, and harass them. I warrant that they will have to move as a body, for it will go hard with any party who may be detached from the rest.”

“I fear, count, you must not rely in any way upon my knowledge,” Jack said. “I am a very young officer, though I have had the good fortune to be promoted to the rank of captain.”

“Age goes for nothing in this warfare,” the count said. “The man of seventy and the boy of fifteen who can aim straight from behind a rock are equally welcome. It is not a deep knowledge of military science that will be of any use to us here. What is wanted is a quick eye, a keen spirit, and courage. These I know that you have, or you would never have won the approbation of the Earl of Peterborough, who is, of all men, the best judge on such matters. Now I will order supper to be got ready soon, as it must, I am sure, be long since you had food. While it is being prepared I will, with your permission, go out and inspect the new arrivals. Fortunately, ten days ago, foreseeing that Tesse would probably advance by this line, I sent several wagon loads of provisions to this village, and a store of ammunition.”

Jack accompanied the count into the street of the village. The latter went about among the peasants with a kindly word of welcome to each, giving them the cheering news that though the great English general was occupied in Valencia, he had promised that, when the time came, he would come with all haste to the defense of Barcelona, and in the mean time he had sent an officer of his own staff to assist him to lead the noble Catalans in the defense of their country. On the steps of the church the priest, with half a dozen willing assistants, was distributing food from the wagons to the peasants.

“Don't open the ammunition wagon tonight,” the count said. “The men must not take as much as they like, but the ammunition must be served out regularly, for a Catalan will never believe that he has too much powder, and if left alone the first comers would load themselves with it, and the supply would run short before all are provided.”

The count then entered the church, where a party of men were occupied in putting down a thick layer of straw. Here as many as could find room were to sleep, the others sheltering in the houses and barns, for the nights were still very cold among the hills. Having seen that all was going on well, the count returned to his quarters, where a room had been assigned to Jack's two dragoons, and the sound of loud laughter from within showed that they were making themselves at home with the inmates.

A well cooked repast was soon on the table, and to this Jack and his host did full justice.

“This wine is excellent; surely it does not grow on these hills!”

“No,” the count said, laughing. “I am ready to run the risk of being killed, but I do not want to be poisoned, so I sent up a score or two of flasks from my own cellars. The vineyards of Cifuentes are reckoned among the first in this part of Spain. And now,” he said, when they had finished and the table had been cleared, “we will take a look at the map and talk over our plans. The enemy leave Lerida tomorrow. I have already ordered that the whole country along their line of march shall be wasted, that all stores of corn, wine, and forage which cannot be carried off shall be destroyed, and that every horse and every head of cattle shall be driven away. I have also ordered the wells to be poisoned.”

Jack looked grave. “I own that I don't like that,” he said.

“I do not like it myself,” the count replied; “but if an enemy invades your country you must oppose him by all means. Water is one of the necessaries of life, and as one can't carry off the wells one must render them useless; but I don't wish to kill in this way, and have given strict orders that in every case where poison is used, a placard, with a notice that it has been done, shall be affixed to the wells.”

“In that case,” Jack said, “I quite approve of what you have done, count; the wells then simply cease to exist as sources of supply.”

“I wish I could poison all the