[Sidenote: CHASED BY FRENCH HORSEMEN.] Soon after our arrival I was sent by Major Browne with despatches to General Campbell, then Lieutenant-Governor of Gibraltar. Returning next day with the general’s instructions, when I had got about half way, my attention was suddenly called by the peasantry, who pastured their flocks on the neighbouring hills, frequently crying out, “Beware of the French!” Neither the dragoon who accompanied me nor I myself could discover the slightest appearance of an enemy, and I knew that the French occupied no part within twenty miles of the place. Under this conviction I proceeded forwards, yet cautiously, for the shepherds, who seemed much excited, were running in all directions collecting their flocks. On our advancing a short way, we heard the shouts, “Beware of the French!” repeated with redoubled vehemence. I now stopped short, when suddenly a French cavalry piquet, consisting of about twenty men and an officer, darted from out the thickets, which were so high and the patrol so well concealed that, although within a hundred and fifty yards of us, neither the dragoon nor I had discovered any appearance of either man or horse. They were in their saddles in an instant, and saluted us with their carbines and pistols literally before we had time to turn our horses round. My dragoon darted like lightning off the road towards the coast, calling upon me to follow, and in an instant was lost to sight. I felt much disinclination to trust my safety to concealment in a country with one yard of which off the road I was not acquainted. I therefore resolved to rely on the abilities of my horse to make good my retreat along the road; I could depend upon him for speed. The patrol gave me chase for upwards of four miles. We always preserved nearly the same distance, from a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards apart, losing sight of each other only when a turn in the road or some high brambles intervened. Our uniformly preserving nearly the same distance did not depend on the equal speed of our animals, but on the nature of the road which was perhaps the worst mountain road in Europe; and so deep and so little apart were the ruts by which it was completely traversed that to push a spirited horse would be to break his neck to a certainty and most probably that of the rider also. On approaching the cork wood not far from Algesiras, the ground being comparatively level, I very soon left the dragoons far behind.