put my hand back as a signal to one of the men to carry away the pig’s cheek; as soon as I saw the pig’s cheek had disappeared from the block, I thought it was time for me to disappear also, so I said to the cook in Portuguese, “Adieu, signor;” he called me a very good man, and said there would be a good deal of heavy firing in a short time, and that the English soldiers were very good in the field. After I departed from the convent, the pig’s cheek we had carried off and the vegetables in the garden soon disappeared also. But it was best of all when the pigs themselves made their way into the garden; and, not to touch those in the woods, or roads, as they did not seem half fond of the garden, we fell into the plan of driving them into the garden, and then falling upon them and killing them. The captain, on going his rounds the first evening, saw three lying dead in the kitchen, waiting for scalding. I told him not to be too particular about scalding them, for those that eat the most pork would eat the most bristles. Going his rounds the following evening, he saw six pigs, and he said, “The pigs are very partial to the garden. Are you sure you found them all there?” No reply. “Who is butcher among you?” he asked. No reply yet. Seeing me sitting on the mess-room kitchen table, he asked me if I knew anything of the affair. I told him, “No; I had come in promiscuously to get a light of my cheroot.” He remarked, “I think you are one of the ringleaders.” He thought right enough, too. Notwithstanding all his sharpness, we managed to keep ourselves pretty well supplied with pork, and also to get a fair share of aquadente. In fact, we took everything we could possibly lay our hands on. We often turned out of the convent at night, at all hours, and formed close column in the Arsenal Square, there to lay till further orders, under expectation of the enemy, coming up to rescue the town from us. As the day approached, we would march back into the convent. Our rations were very scantily served out; there was scarcely a thing a dog or cat could eat but what was devoured by the soldiers. I had never ventured myself yet on eating dogs or cats. Going up a street called Rue Tendemdza, I met two lancers coming down the street, and they said to me, “Corporal, why so down in the mouth?” I said, “It would make anyone look down in the mouth to be starved as we were.” “Just come along with us; we have been cooking some mutton.” And they brought me into the Horse Barracks, and put some meat before me with some soup. I “progged” hold of a piece of meat with a fork, and lifted it up to my nose and smelt it. “Don’t tell me this is mutton,” I remarked, “it is part of an old tom cat.” “Taste it,” said he, “it will do you no harm. Here, I will show you how to eat;” and taking a leg he munched away at it like a Russian. Having seen this man eat the leg of the cat, and being moreover very hungry at the time, I took a mouthful or two but would not eat any more of it.