_Volunteer._ Ay, playing the devil, Captain Provost. I wanted to prevent _them_ from playing the devil; that stupid Colonel of mine knows no more of military tactics than a horse. Now mark you, Sir--the column of subdivisions was ordered to change its direction on a moveable pivot: “Left shoulders forward” was given instead of “_right shoulders forward_,” and I of course--thinking for the best--cried out to the Captain of the company I belonged to, that he was wrong; when he ordered me out of the ranks. I wouldn’t be treated so; therefore went up to the Colonel to speak with him on the subject, when the French began to fire grape shot in amongst us. The regiment halted before crossing the river, while the shot was coming thicker and thicker; so I was determined to tell my mind--for a good commanding officer would have moved his men a little under cover,--and I called out to the Colonel to advance, or to move by an _oblique echelon_ to the left, in order to get the men under a high bank. What d’ye think, Sir?--he said he’d order me to be flogged if I did not immediately go to the rear! The column at this moment received a shower of shot which knocked some down; so, in the confusion of eight or ten of the men near the river, I was thrown off the bank--souse in the water, and was carried down luckily to the ford, or I should have been lost. I scrambled out--look how wet I am--and went back to the regiment, when the Colonel sent me to be flogged by the Provost: and if the General, God bless him! had not fortunately been riding by, I should have been disgracefully punished; but he asked what the matter was, and then sent me to the rear in charge of this gentleman. _Myself._ Really, I think you acted very imprudently by interfering with the command. _Provost._ Lord bless you, Sir; he threw the men into the greatest ferment and confusion. _Volunteer._ I’ll tell you, Sir, that they are all ignorant fellows--all, Sir. I did every thing for the best, and this is the way I was treated: the fact of the matter is, the service is disgusting, and I will immediately return to England. _Myself._ Where is your cap? _Volunteer._ It was shot off my head a little before I was thrown into the Bidassoa. * * * * * I now prepared to part from my quondam acquaintance, for the day was advancing, and I had yet two leagues to go; so I recommended him to call at my late quarters at Renteria, where he would be hospitably received by the owner of the house: he thanked me, and relaxing into a smile as he nearly squeezed my hand off, he emphatically exclaimed, “I have this, at least, to consolate me:--I have stood the fire of the foe, and swam in the stream that waters Fontarabia: with the poet I may exclaim. ‘Certe ego transilui positas ter in ordine flammas, Virgaque rorales _laurea misit aquas_.’” Thus we parted, and resumed our opposite marches--I for the front, and the volunteer, with his escort, for Renteria.