In the course of an hour after, being on sentry at our advance posts, I was leisurely sauntering up and down, occasionally looking about me, and stooping to cull some flowers that grew in the field which divided us from the enemy. It was just at the close of the evening, or between the lights. The French sentry, who advanced occasionally seemingly for the same purpose, at last came so near, that I feared he was up to some manœuvre, or about to fire at me; with this, I instantly cocked my rifle, and was awaiting his approach, when he suddenly rushed towards me, bellowing out in French, “Déserteur! Déserteur!” Of course at the words I allowed him to approach, which he did, exclaiming, “Je suis allemand,” and instantly turning on his quondam comrades, fired into them. The report of his fire caused the picquets of both parties to fall in, and the whole line of sentries again to be engaged. However, he stuck by me all the time, shaking his fist at them, and loading and firing with all the jaw-breaking oaths that the French and his native German could supply him with. Colonel Beckwith, a second time alarmed, was soon amongst us swearing also, at what he supposed to be another Lincoln job, but he returned rather pleased, chatting to the deserter. CHAPTER X. Our march upon Condeixa—Tom Crawley again—Hot and cold—Affair of Casal Nova—Death of Major Stewart—The French continue retreating—The two brothers—Night scene—The French continue their havoc—The Caçadore—The pet goat—Lord Wellington again—Our old Colonel—The promise of the Staff—The Recruits—British enthusiasm inspired—The two French prisoners—Particulars of Massena’s retreat and state of his troops—St. Patrick’s Day—If I had a donkey—The river Caira—Our distressing privations—O’Brien and the old Patrone—Arrival at Friexedas—Adjutant Stewart killed—Sabugal—Carrying of the enemy’s position—Encomiums of our Colonel—Death of Lieut. Arbuthnot—Disagreeable bed-fellow—A light on the subject—Evacuation of Portugal by the French, Almeida excepted—The British follow into Spain—Arrival at Gallegos—The enemy active in Rodrigo—The skulker—Poor Burke—Expedition and disappointment in search of a convoy. THE French got under arms before the dawn of the morning, and we as usual followed, keeping them well on before us.