’We frightened those cavalry chaps with our shells, and these little brownies stopped them with their rifles,’ they told us, as we all carried Seymour down from the roof and put him in his buggy, which turned up from somewhere or other. They took him back—very slowly and gently—to San Fernando, and intended to take him on board the _Hector_. ’Thank God, you came!’ I said. ’You were just in time.’ He smiled wildly, wanted to say something, but didn’t, and was taken away. And now came the saddest of all things, for the wounded began to creep out of the forest and make their way to the Casino or be carried there—hundreds of them—and there wasn’t a piece of lint or a bandage in the place. They simply squatted down and waited—for what I don’t know. I got a good many of them water from the Casino well, and they were very grateful, but I couldn’t do anything else. I missed Gerald, went in search of him in the Casino, heard the noise of splashing water, and found him having a cold bath, José standing by to rub him down. ’Only thing which keeps me awake, Billums,’ he laughed. ’I’ve given my chaps a couple of hours’ sleep, and shall follow Zorilla as soon as those field-guns you took into San Fernando come along. I’ve sent for them.’ ’They don’t seem to be going to sleep yet,’ I said, for there was any amount of noise outside and shouting of ’_Viva Don Geraldio! Viva los Inglesas!_’ ’They want me, I expect,’ he said; ’chuck us a towel, Billums,’ and, winding it round him, he went out. He still had a nasty scar on the right arm—where that bit of shell had hit him a month ago. ’Tidy your yellow mop a bit,’ I sang out, ’it’s all over your eyes,’ so he smoothed it back and went out on the balcony overlooking the road. My aunt! there must have been thousands of the little brown men and their black-bearded officers there, and they made a tremendous noise, shouting, ’_Viva Yuesencia Don Geraldio!_’ I was looking out from behind a door, and you bet I was proud of old Gerald. Wouldn’t the mater have just loved to see him there, the only white-skinned chap among them, and wouldn’t the old pater have grinned and chuckled to think he’d been the father of him. I could just imagine him patting Gerald’s naked shoulder and tipping him a sovereign. There were more yells. ’Come out, Billums, they want you!’ I went cold all over. ’Come out, you ass! Take your hat off too—let ’em see your straw thatching.’ I went and stood beside him, and it was the proudest thing that ever happened to me; it was nothing but a sea of brown heads and white hats, rifles and bayonets, and then they yelled and waved their hats—even those of the wounded who could stand, stood up and shouted, ’_Viva los Hermanos!_’[#] [#] Hermanos = brothers. When the noises stopped a bit, I sang out, ’_Gracias! Gracias! Muchas Gracias!_’—about the only Spanish words I knew. They cheered more than ever.