On my descending from this pinnacle, to make my way down the side of the mountain, the road was so blocked up with snow, the narrow pathway in, the middle so slippery, and the foot-hold so uncertain, that I could hardly keep myself on my legs, or the animal on its own; and, resting every now and then, I did not reach the solitary and deserted street of the town, until an hour and a half after nightfall. When opposite to the porch of the well known Casa, (that of the before-mentioned Spanish family), although shivering and benumbed with cold, I hesitated to knock for admittance. All was dark and silent; no lights issued from the casement, nor was the sound of any voice to be heard from within. In this short interval, many conjectures rushed across my mind; my friends might be gone to some distant town; the former hospitable inmates might no longer inhabit its gloomy walls, it might be occupied with strangers, or be the sanctuary of the dead. With such dismal forebodings, I gave a thundering rap; the massive door was opened by a soldier, holding a little iron lamp in his hand, (filled with _aceyte_, and having a small wick burning at the spout) which cast a faint glimmering light across the out lines of my cloak, and wiry-haired steed, covered with slakes of snow. Without waiting for any explanation, the man was hastily closing the door, while lustily calling out, "There is no room here, this house is full of wounded officers;" but on making myself known, the portal was thrown back on its hinges; lights appeared at the top of the stairs, and the voices of my friends joyfully greeted my arrival. In the midst of our embracings, "Take care of my side," said one of them, (still hugging me), "for it has sloughed away, and you shall see my bare ribs anon." Another was stretched on his pallet, from which he had not risen for upwards of two months, but was slowly recovering under the soothing attention, and gentle hand of la Señorita Ventura. The former had made too free with the roseate wine at Christmas, which had caused his wound to break out anew, leaving his ribs quite bare of flesh for the space of six inches in diameter; but they were both in excellent spirits—the _braceiro_ was replenished with ruddy embers, and placed at my feet, and a hot dinner speedily served up, with a bottle of sparkling wine to solace and comfort my inside, after my freezing journey. Over this we recounted all that had passed since our separation at the battle of the Nivelle. I described fresh battles, and combats, and they all the torments they had endured while slowly carried two leagues in blankets up and down the rocks and mountains, or on the verge of terrific precipices, in momentary dread that those supporting them might slip, and let them fall on the jagged and naked rocks. Before I retired to rest, I paid a visit to a young officer of the 52nd regiment, who occupied a room at the upper part of the house; he was suffering