"Walk about," said he, while touching his hat. This is the usual response of an officer when ceremony is to be waived; but, immediately after, perceiving by Quentin's uniform--for the poor fellow had now parted with his great-coat as well as his blanket, and in a similar fashion--that he was _not_ a private soldier, he came close up to him, and said, "You are, I presume, aware that the enemy is in front?" "Yes, sir--and more immediately, Ribeaupierre's dragoon brigade and Lallemand's corps." "Exactly," replied the other, with a pleasant smile; "I like to find a young soldier well-informed of the work in hand--that he knows what he is about, and takes an interest in his profession. Your regiment is----" "The 25th Foot, sir--2nd battalion." "You are, I see, a volunteer?" "Yes, sir." "How long have you served?" "Nearly since the campaign opened." "Without promotion, too!" "And likely to be without it now, I fear." "It is somewhat unusual for a volunteer to be posted as a sentinel," said the other, with a keen glance. "I go where Colonel Crawford orders me," replied Quentin; "and if there was much risk, I spared him the trouble by volunteering readily." "A young fellow of spirit! Are you born to a fortune?" "Fortune!" repeated Quentin, with a start, and in a voice that was very touching; "alas, sir, I fear that I am born only to _failure_!" "Failure?" said the other, as his colour deepened. "Yes, sir--like our expedition to Spain." The officer seemed much struck by a remark that appeared to coincide with certain ideas and fears of destiny that were peculiarly his own. He knitted his brows, and said-- "Young man, you speak very confidently of the fate of 'this expedition to Spain.' Do you know what you are talking about?" "I trust, sir, that I do," replied Quentin, modestly. "Then, perhaps," said the other, with a smile as he propounded what he deemed a puzzling question, "you will be good enough to explain the maxims which guide an expedition by land or sea?" "I shall try," said Quentin, colouring deeply and seeking to remember some of the old quartermaster's enthusiastic tutelage. "Do so." "There are, I think, four great maxims." "Yes--at least, and I shall be glad to hear them." "First, sir, in an armed expedition of any kind, there should always be secrecy of design, and also, of all preparation. Second: the force and the means employed should always be proportionate to the _end_ to be achieved; (which is not _our_ case here, else we had been in Madrid to-night and not fugitives in Lugo.) Third: there is requisite a complete knowledge of the country for which the expedition is destined; in that at least our brave Sir John Moore is unequalled. Fourth: there is required a commander, who like him has all the turn of mind which is most adapted for that particular branch of the war."