"We do not yet know that it is true." "I am sure of it," said our neighbour hastily. "I have--that is to say, there can be no doubt of it." A week or two later--January 20, 1823, to be precise--there walked into the quarters of the second battalion a young officer. His face was white and drawn, his eyes were sunken; he looked so pitifully weak and ill that at first I failed to recognize him. "Well, Crawford," he exclaimed, "am I as changed as all that? Don't you know your old chum Alzura when you see him?" "Alzura?" I echoed, aghast. "All that is left of him." "Where is the first battalion?" Spreading his hands out dramatically, he said, "Haven't you heard? Don't you know what has happened at Torata and Moquegua?" "I have heard nothing but some very dark rumours," I replied uneasily. "They cannot be darker than the truth. The army has been destroyed, and the battalion with it." "And the colonel?" "Oh, he was in another district with the light company. But I'll tell you all about it. We had a wretched voyage, and arrived at Arica half dead. After that we sat down for three weeks doing nothing, when Alvarado, who was in chief command, sent the colonel north with the light company. A lucky thing for them, too!" "Go on!" said I impatiently. "Well, at last we moved, and marched as far as Torata. Do you know the place at all?" "Oh yes; it's a few miles from Moquegua, isn't it?" "That's it. Well, the Spaniards were at Torata, and we tried to turn them out, but failed. Then they attacked, and we were beaten. It was simply awful. The legion fought like a battalion of heroes. Every one praised us; but praise won't bring the dead to life. We broke two cavalry charges, and stood our ground till there wasn't a cartridge left." "Then you retreated?" "Some of us did, not many! We left fifteen of our officers there and three-fourths of the battalion, all dead or dangerously wounded. Alvarado took us back to Moquegua; but the Spaniards caught us again. The second defeat was worse than the first, and when the battle was over there was no army left. As to the battalion--! O Juan, isn't it awful? La Rosa, Tarramona, Escobar, Rivero--all gone! I should think," he added, with a bitter laugh, "I must have been senior officer." It was, indeed, a terrible story. I could hardly realize that of all my high-spirited young friends who had sailed from Callao this was the only one to return. "How did you get back?" I asked, after a time. "With General Martinez. We embarked at Ilo, while General Alvarado went on to Iquiqui. The game's up in that part of the country, Juan!" "Oh, nonsense!" I replied brusquely. "We aren't going to lose heart over a couple of defeats."