“Much obliged to you, Mr Y—,” said he; “you have saved me some trouble.” “Happy to hear it, sir: don’t exactly understand how, though.” “Why, the fact is,” replied the Captain, “I was here waiting to see the convoy safe over—if needful, to render assistance. But really you got them so handily up the bank, I had no occasion to interfere. Famous plan, that, of sending them up with a run: shan’t soon forget it. That ár-r-r-r-r-r-r-re starts them capitally,—acts like a brad-awl.” “Were you not on the bridge just now, towards the other side of the river, sir?” “Yes, yes; but I saw you were getting them on well; so I came over to this end, to see how you would get them off.” “What I most feared,” said I, “was their crowding up, in passing the bridge.” “No, no,” said the captain, “no danger of that. Had I seen the least tendency to confusion, I should have passed a command by signal. Effectual means would then have been taken at once, to keep back those coming on, till those in front were clear. Well, what do you think of our bridge?” “I was thinking how I could destroy it—that is, if I was General Thouvenot, shut up in Bayonne with thirteen or fourteen thousand men. That’s what I began to think of, as soon as I saw it; and that’s what I’ve been thinking of ever since.” “Destroy it?” said the Captain; “destroy the bridge? Come, that’s a good one. Destroy it, indeed! I should like just to know, now, how you would go to work to do that. Why, Thouvenot did come down and attack, on our first arrival here; got well pounded, though. Don’t think it very probable he’ll try that again.” “Now, it’s too late, perhaps. Besides, he committed two great mistakes; he attacked with an insufficient force, and he came down only on one side of the river. If, instead, when the bridge was first thrown over, he had come down on both sides, and that with adequate—” “Going up with the treasure to headquarters, Mr Y—?” “That’s our destination, sir. This afternoon, though, we halt where we are.” “What, halt here?” said the Captain. “Let me look at your route.” “Our route says Bayonne, sir; but of course we came here.” “Yes, yes; very right; exactly; just so. Sorry to say, though, Mr Y—, I fear you’ll find no accommodation where you are. Every house, every cottage, every shed, is as full as it can cram. If it was only yourself, pony, and goat, I would give you accommodation most willingly. I sleep on a deal table. Would give you half with pleasure. But such a lot of you—about seventy bipeds, I guess, and more than a hundred quadrupeds—why, where could we put you all?” “Well, then,” said I, “we must make a bivouac of it, I suppose.”