"I was beginning to explain, sir," said Wilkes, "but before I could crawl out into the open, ’Enough of that’, says he. ’Come out of that, you skulkers!’ Me a skulker! And without sayin’ another word he marches us off to the bridge, where he hands us over to Corp’ril MacWhirter, a feller I’ve the greatest dislike of. ’Here,’ says the general, ’see these two stragglers safe into Benawenty, and hand ’em over to Colonel Beckwith with my compliments’. MacWhirter he sniffed, and it was hard work to keep my hands off him, sir, for blest if he didn’t pass foolish and opperobious remarks all the way to Benawenty, just a grunt here and there, like as if we was pigs, and his two Riflemen like to bust ’emselves with laughing. Now, sir, what I—" At this point Captain O’Hare came into the room. Jack, who had had some difficulty in keeping his countenance, said hurriedly: "Well, well, it was very unfortunate, but I’ll see that it is put right." As Wilkes turned away, Jack heard him mutter under his breath: "Yes, and I’ll put it right with MacWhirter." *CHAPTER XIII* *Don Miguel’s Man* Fine Feathers—A Fight by the River—Lax Discipline—Scenes at Astorga—A Cry for Help—The One-eyed Man—At Bay—A Warm Corner—Wilkes to the Rescue—Miguel Explains—Righteous Indignation—Wilkes’s Supper Captain O’Hare’s eyes were twinkling as he watched the aggrieved exit of the two soldiers, and when they had gone he joined in Jack’s shout of laughter. "Ah! ’tis all very well for you to laugh at Corporal Wilkes; but faith, my boy, we’ll have to court-martial you for deserting his Majesty’s stores, to say nothing of my best pair of galligaskins. Begorra, let’s hope they won’t fit the spalpeen of a Frenchman who gets them. The whole mess is rejuced to one suit." Then, changing his tone, the captain proceeded to inform Jack of what had happened since his arrival at Benavente. The inhabitants of the town had received the British army with an attitude of sullen dislike and even animosity. Relying for their rations on what could be obtained during the march, the troops had come into the place tired and hungry, to find the doors barred and food withheld. The shops were all closed, the magistrates had taken flight, and although the British were prepared to pay for supplies, neither bread nor wine was to be had. The men were already embittered by the hardships of their long march, and disappointed of their hopes of meeting the French in fair fight, and it was small wonder that coldness where they might well have looked for warmth, and aversion where they might have claimed active friendship, provoked resentment and reprisal. They were received as enemies; they could scarcely be expected to act as friends.