Passing one day through the Plaza, accompanied by my old friend the Spanish Colonel, we observed a number of Carlist prisoners brought in by some of our English Lancers; they had expected death in retaliation for their cruelty on our men, and were profuse in expressions of gratitude for the very different treatment they had experienced at the hands of the British. One in particular my old friend seemed to bear some recollection of, and entered into a very interesting conversation on the accidents of the contending parties. He was a cadet of the Guards of Alava, one of the smartest regiments in the Carlist service, and appeared to be an exceedingly intelligent young fellow, and well versed in English and French. After some chat with the Colonel, he addressed me, saying with what I thought rather a satirical smirk on his countenance, “You may remember an officer of yours deserting to us during the stay of the Legion about Trevina.” I said I had some recollection of a Lieutenant of the 1st regiment, named Wilkinson, who did leave us at the period mentioned. “Then,” continued he, “I was the first person whom he met with after crossing our lines, and who caused his introduction to Muralo, prime minister of Don Carlos, to whom he related the cause of his desertion, the circumstance of his having been dismissed from the Legion, without a court-martial, or any court of inquiry being allowed him to justify himself; and there and then proposed a scheme to seize on the person of General Evans, on the road between Trevina and Vittoria, which he was in the habit of passing with a very small escort. ‘I will,’ said he, ‘if allowed twenty dragoons, at the hazard of my own life, bring in my late General dead or alive.’ The simple and earnest manner of your officer took great effect on Muralo, who seemed inclined to the proposed scheme, and the English officer was dismissed, with orders to attend the next day; the Minister observing, as we left the room, he must not take the life of the General, but bring him alive if possible.