Towards the close of the evening, as we sat talking over departmental matters, each with his tumbler before him—hot,—our conversation was interrupted by a tap at the door. “Come in,” said Mr Q—. The door opened; and in the doorway appeared one of our German guard. With an earnest but somewhat vacant look, and his hand spread out upon his breast, he stood erect, his appearance that of a man who wants words, but is very anxious to speak. At length he began: “_Mine haarrt ist folle._” Just at that moment the corporal appeared behind, seized the orator by the shoulders, and cut short his harangue by spinning him round into the passage, and closing the door. “Oh, I see how it is,” said Mr Q—. “The extra allowance has got into his head. He wants to return thanks for his supper; that’s all.” Presently there was a scuffle outside. Again the door opened; and again the same individual made his appearance, commencing as before, with pathos and much gravity, “_Mine haarrt ist folle._” The corporal interposed once more; but another scuffle ensued in the passage, followed by a third visit, with similar results. “Better get him to turn in,” said Mr Q—; but that was more English than the corporal understood. Recollecting a few German words, I contrived to make the command intelligible; and partly by force, partly by persuasion, our grateful friend was stowed away for the night; still exclaiming, from time to time, “_Mine haarrt ist folle_,” and making strenuous efforts to break away from his comrades, come back, and finish his oration. When all was quiet, I took my leave for the night. The sound of my footsteps caught his ear, and set him off again. His voice grew louder as my distance increased; and “_Mine haarrt ist folle_” resounded in the street. Next morning he came up to me, looking very sheepish and compunctious; and commenced a long discourse in German, expressive of his profound regret. This at his request I interpreted, as far as able, to his “Excellenz” the “Haupt.” At length arrived the day, the important day, of my departure to join the army. It was arranged that the treasure should be conveyed up the harbour in boats to the bridge of Oyarzun, with a guard of soldiers. At Oyarzun we were to sleep the first night; and there, also, we were to meet the rest of our escort, and the mules intended to convey the money. My friend and I had arranged it together, that he was to bring Sancho to the office in the course of the morning, saddled and bridled. I was then to pay the purchase-money, and the pony would be mine. My friend was punctual to his time; Sancho stood at the door; and I applied to Mr Q— for the eighty dollars. “Oh yes, of course,” said he; “may as well give it you at once. Is the pony at Oyarzun?” “No, sir; he’s here, at the door.” “Here at the door? Then how do you mean to get him to Oyarzun?” I had never thought of that. “Can’t he go with us, in one of the boats, sir?”