“Oh, yes—the escort. That is one of the subjects I wish to mention. Well, Mr Y—, you must do the best you can with them. Your escort consists of twenty men; not, I am sorry to say, twenty men of any one corps, but twenty men of twenty different regiments; men who have been in hospital at Vittoria, sick or wounded—have recovered, and are now on their return to headquarters—not exactly the guard I should have wished to provide, but the best I could get for you. The worst is, I have seen the officer who is to command them, and don’t like him at all. Hope you will like him better than I do. Hope he won’t give you trouble, or prove incompetent. Should he turn out not quite the person you wish, or should your escort appear insufficient, say nothing till you reach St Jean de Luz, up to which point I consider you as safe as if travelling in England. Then wait upon old Colonel B—, the commandant; state your case to him; and he, I have no doubt, will make the best arrangements in his power, for the security of your subsequent progress. Come, Mr Y—, after dinner, we’ll see you into the boat.” “Perhaps, sir,” said I, “you will oblige me with a line to the commandant, to be presented if the case requires.” “No need of that,” said he, “I wrote to the Colonel yesterday, after seeing the gentleman who goes with you.” Before leaving the room, I very heartily thanked my commanding officer for all his good advice, forethought, and kind attentions. We then shook hands upon it, in the usual English style; and I held by the paw as worthy a little man as ever trod shoe-leather, and as smart an officer as ever drew rations. The dinner was again departmental, and so was the talk. “It is the boast of our department,” said Mr Q—, “that, since we have served in the Peninsula under our present commander-in-chief, no treasure in our keeping, not even a single mule’s load of specie, has ever been captured by the enemy. Recollect that, Mr Y—, and keep up our character.” “Didn’t we once lose a box of papers, sir?” said one of my fellow-clerks. “We did,” said Mr Q—; “but, two days after, it was recaptured, and all the papers found right. That was on the retreat, subsequent to the battle of Talavera. I see nothing of the boats,” he added, rising, and walking to the balcony. “Hope they’ll be here in time.” “Get him to tell about that campaign,” whispered the senior of my fellow-clerks, winking to the junior. “Did you ever hear him tell it, Mr Y—?” “I think, sir, in the course of that campaign,” said the junior, addressing Mr Q—, on his return to the table, “the whole department together, chest and all, had a narrow escape from being captured.”