Presently, as I got a bit more chirpy, and began looking round again, I saw a little chap trudging along ahead of me, splashing through the edge of the sea where the sand was firmer. Something about him seemed familiar, and as I overtook him he looked round, gave a yelp of fright, and bolted, drawing a _machete_ out of his belt. It was the little brute, and I dug my heels into the horse and was after him like a shot. I simply rode him down—he couldn’t run fast in the loose sand—and at last turned, holding up the _machete_ to protect himself. I was jolly glad that he’d lost his revolver, for I had lost mine somewhere. I meant to kill him, and I saw that he knew it, and that he couldn’t be springy on his feet in the sand, and struck at him for all I was worth with the A.D.C.’s sword, meaning to beat down his guard and get at his head, but the horse swerved when he saw the sword flash, and the blade only came down on the back of the hand which held the _machete_ and lopped the fingers clean off, the _machete_ falling down. I wrenched the horse round and went at him again, and was just going to finish him when, I’m sorry to say, something inside me wouldn’t let me kill him now that he couldn’t defend himself, and, like the ass I am,—how I cursed myself for it afterwards—I jumped off and tried to stop the bleeding. He thought me a fool, I know, and so I was. Then I made him step out alongside me, and was so angry with myself for being so soft-hearted that I prodded him in the back when he wouldn’t go fast enough. But the miserable brute, with his bleeding stumps, was nearly dead with fright and could hardly put one foot in front of another, so at last I swung him up in front of me, and took him into San Fernando like that, riding up to the _Cuartel de Infanteria_, where a ’red-cross’ flag was flying, and handing him over to the people there, trying to explain that he was a prisoner. My Christopher! the look he gave me when I went away! I left my horse at the barracks, walked down to the shore, stood on that jetty, and waved my arms about till one of the _Hector’s_ signalmen spotted me, and the skiff was sent in to take me off. I had just time to change into uniform, and get a bit of grub in the gun-room, before the ’Forlorn Hope,’ who’d kept the ’Forenoon’ watch and wanted his lunch, sent down an indignant message to know when I was going to relieve him, so up I went, buckling on my sword-belt, and tramped up and down the quarterdeck for four hours. I’m certain that I could never have stopped awake had not Cousin Bob, the ’Angel,’ and young Marchant walked alongside me and made me tell them all that had happened ashore. When I went down below again, I showed the black A.D.C.’s sword to Navarro, and told him, as well as I could, all that had happened. He was very depressed, chiefly because he was so fond of old Zorilla, but didn’t seem to worry in the least about the black A.D.C., and made me keep the sword.