“Punctual to your time,” said the commandant. “This, Mr Y—, is the officer who will command your party—the Hon. Mr Chesterfield.” Did the introduction in due form. In the military undress of his regiment—viz. cap with tassel and gold band, said cap hiding one side of the head and face, and leaving the other bare, long greatcoat, redundant in frogs, belt and sabre, enormous boots, and formidable spurs—I saw before me a youth of eighteen, slight in form, elegant in manner, who quietly returned my salutation, and, shortly after, walked down stairs and mounted. “I have explained to Mr C. the nature of the duty,” said the colonel. “He is quite fresh from England; but he seems to have no nonsense about him; and, at any rate, I trust you will find the change for the better. Well, Mr Y—, we mustn’t keep the mules standing; so I now wish you a pleasant journey.” “Thank you, sir. Much obliged to you for this arrangement. Good morning, sir.” It soon became apparent, as we proceeded on our march, that matters were greatly mended since the day before. Our new commander said little; but, young as he was, seemed to know what he was about; and all went on much to my satisfaction. He never interfered needlessly; and his directions, when given, were much to the purpose. Managed the cavalry himself, and the infantry through Corporal Fraser. Things began to grow right of their own accord, and a great load was taken off my mind. The men, finding they were now _commanded_, were orderly and well-conducted. Even our jolly Yorkshireman behaved himself—that is, with the exception of an occasional caper or grimace when he felt himself safe. Nothing more was said about his arrest. Consequently he had to carry his musket through the rest of the march; for, seeing what kind of a person he now had to deal with, he was too wise to try over again the game of the day before. The muleteers, too, recovered their good-humour. Muleteers are like live lobsters—very tractable, if you know how to handle them. The delays were now few. And though, with such a mixture of men and mules, we could not keep perfect order, if anything got wrong, it was soon set right. We reached at length that point in our march where a lane struck off to the left, from the high road which we were following, and which led direct to Bayonne. Our route, with official brevity, assigned Bayonne as our halting-place for the night. But as Bayonne happened just then to be occupied by the French, we proposed directing our course toward the headquarters of Sir John Hope, who commanded the besieging army. The aforesaid lane to the left soon brought us out on a heathy eminence, covered with fieldworks completed or in progress, and affording us a splendid view of the beleaguered city, of the river Adour, and of the bridge of boats thrown across it near the sea. Headquarters were at a small hamlet, on the right or opposite bank of the river.