"He received no order from me; and he had no business to send you on without." "Shall I halt the party, sir?" "No, no; keep on. It was a mistake our stopping at all." As we passed out of the village, I began to ruminate upon what had just occurred. First of all, there was the character of this gentleman, well known at Lisbon, and, I supposed, at headquarters. Then there was the improbability of his story, to say nothing of one or two little contradictions. Then, it was clear, he had attempted to separate me from the convoy, and to prevent my following it. Then, too, his conduct was doubly incorrect; in taking upon himself, first, to halt the party, secondly, to send it on. Item, in the course of our short interview, he had, it appeared to me, told as many fibs as could well be got into the given time. Moreover, he had attempted to divert us from our route, which was just what Hookey did; and, what made it very remarkable, Hookey and he both wished us to turn aside in the same direction, namely, by the left bank of the river, when the regular route was by the right. Something was evidently not straight. For all that, though, the manner of this intelligent individual was so very easy and impudent, and he seemed so bent upon accomplishing his purpose, whatever it might be, that I felt a strong impression we had not seen the last of him, especially as he appeared utterly unconscious that I knew his previous history.--"Corporal Fraser!" "What's your pleasure, sir?" "If that person comes up, I wish you to keep near me. Take no notice; but be prepared, if I direct, to arrest him." The corporal looked a little queer. "Very good, sir," said he; "upon receiving your _orders_," (he intoned the word _orders_,) "I shall be ready to do so." "In case of my giving you an order to that effect, I, of course, am responsible, not you. If I turn round, give you a look, and say, 'Fraser,' you will consider that you have got your directions." "Very good, sir; it shall be done." My anticipations proved correct. Mounted on what had very much the appearance of a French post-horse, my would-be entertainer presently came up at a laborious canter. The moment he got alongside, he began to expostulate. Was profoundly grieved that I had declined his hospitality. It was a long day's march, the longest from Passages to headquarters. "A little refreshment would have recruited your forces, Mons. d'Y--." "I cannot separate from the convoy and escort. As you thought fit to send them on, I had no choice but to follow." "Well, pardon me, if I have done wrong," said he. "My intentions were pure, at any rate. Positively, though, you must not follow this road. The way to the ford is now close at hand. Come, let me be your conductor." "Were you not at Lisbon last autumn?" said I. "Were you?" said he, in a tone of alarm. "I was. And though you do not know me, I know you." "Nothing to my prejudice, I feel convinced." (Still more uneasy.)