“There wasn't a man in the garrison so happy as Harry that evening, nor a woman more joyful than Maria; for the General ordthered that we all should be escorted safely to the front an' delivered over to our own army. Not only that, but plenty o' money was given to us, with a hearty shake o' the hand from all the officers for our conduct; an' we marched out of Abrantes next morning with three jolly cheers from the men.” * * * * * Thus ended the Corporal's story of Maria de Carmo. “Aweel, Corporal,” said Sergeant M'Fadgen, “that story is nae far short o' bein' a romance. If I didn't ken it to be fac mysel', I'd ha' swore it to be made oot o' yir ain Irish invention.” The meed of praise so justly due to O'Callaghan for his story was now given by all the men; his courage and loyalty were commended, and his sufferings pitied. All, however, who had not been in the regiment at the time the circumstances occurred, demanded of the Corporal, what became of Harry and his sweetheart. “O faith,” replied O'Callaghan, “they lived like turtle-doves together for three years. When we were delivered over from the enemy, they got married, an' had two fine boys, who are now in the Juke o' York's School.” “And where are Maria and Harry?” asked one of the men. The Corporal sighed as he answered; and got up to prepare for the relief. “Maria,” said he, “God rest her sowl! died in child-bed; an' poor Harry was killed by my side at the battle o' Toulouse, shortly afther.” The men then proceeded to relieve the sentries, and the Sergeant fell asleep. FOOTNOTES: [4] _Zehere._ [5] The French in the Peninsula during the war, called the English, _Crabs_, in allusion to their red coats. OLD CHARLEY. “Charley is my darling—the [_old_] Cavalier.” A good-humoured by-name is often given by soldiers to their commanding officer, under which he is always known and talked of amongst them when his back is turned; and nothing more strongly proves their esteem for him than this practice. The Duke of Wellington himself was called “_The Little Corporal_” by his men; and this _mark of distinction_ his Grace received from his uncommon zeal and industry in promoting the works of the impenetrable lines at Torres Vedras. The indefatigable commander usually turned out at daybreak, and went through the batteries in which the men were at work, dressed in a plain blue coat and glazed hat, singly and on foot, to watch the progress of the operations. When seen at a distance by the working parties, “_Here comes the Little Corporal!_” would pass from one to another throughout, and all would redouble their exertions. This was not from fear, but from esteem—each was emulous of approval in his task; and had his Grace himself heard them designating him with the _title_ of his extraordinary rank, he would not have been at all displeased.