"Monsieur le soldat, we have come hither on an errand of mercy. An old and valued officer of our corps is sinking under the fatigue of last night and the suffering incident to an old wound, so we have ridden over to see if there is not at least one brave and generous man among you, who will give us a mouthful of eau-de-vie or any other spirit to keep him alive; for though our surgeons order this, _sangdieu_, we haven't a drop in the whole brigade." The interchange of many civilities, wine, biscuits, tobacco, and newspapers, frequently took place between our outposts and the French during the Peninsular wars. To such a length was this eventually carried, that they frequently went over to smoke at each other's watchfires; but a very stringent order of the Duke of Wellington put a stop to these visits. Before the speaker had concluded his singular request, Quentin had time to recognise in him the French lieutenant whom he had so signally befriended at Herreruela. "Monsieur de Ribeaupierre," said he, "don't you remember me?" "_Parbleu!_ yes--this is fortunate, my friend," said the other, grasping Quentin's hand; "I am glad to see you again, but not with the musket still--what! no promotion yet?" "I am still but a volunteer." "Ah--you should serve the emperor!" "And then, we have not yet fought a battle." "Had you not fallen back so rapidly on our advance from Valladolid and Tordesillas, we should have had the pleasure of capturing and escorting you all to France." "Thanks for your good intentions." "I still hope to see them carried out," said Ribeaupierre, laughing; "but here come some of your people," he added, waving his handkerchief, as Monkton, who had witnessed this interview, came hurrying forward, with his sergeant, and a section of the picquet with bayonets fixed. Quentin rapidly acquainted Monkton with the object of the Frenchman's visit, adding-- "He is Ribeaupierre, the French officer of whom I told you--son of the brigadier of the same name." "Ah--indeed; then I have much pleasure in meeting him," said Monkton, as he and the officer saluted each other very courteously. On inquiry being made, it was discovered that the sergeant of the picquet, Ewen Donaldson, alone had any brandy, so he readily poured the contents of his canteen into the flask of Ribeaupierre, who, after thanking him profusely, handed it to his orderly, saying-- "Paul, mon camarade, away with this for our patient; use your spurs, and I shall follow." The dragoon galloped away. Ribeauperre offered a five-franc piece to Donaldson, who being a gruff Scotsman, declined it so bluffly that the young officer coloured to the peak of his helmet.