When her anchor was dropped, and the master of the vessel, with his passenger, jumped on shore beside me, I thought the latter was the former, and the former a mate. Without hesitation I asked them had they come from England, and what news. The hero immediately furnished me with an abridgement of the preceding month’s “_Times_” and “_Chronicle_,” in such a peculiar way, and with such familiarity, that I immediately concluded I had caught hold of as odd a fish as ever came from the ocean; and I should have had no objection to examine him further, but the time which I had to spare was expired; and as he had concluded his _report_, I wished him good morning, stepped into the ferry-boat, and passed to the other side of the gut which divides the town. When I had made the purchases of various articles of provision for which I had come to Passages, I went back to _Renteria_, the town in which I was quartered, and which is situated about a league from the former. I had dined at home--(_home!_ where is the soldier’s home?) I had dined at my quarters at Renteria, and had strolled along the beach, listening to the boat-women singing as they crossed the lake of Leso, when I saw the “new arrival” approaching the shore in a ferry-boat. “Captain, Captain!” roared he out, “how are you _again_, Sir? I’ll be with you in a moment.” Thus was I saddled with his company, rather against my will; but as I had nothing either to amuse or employ me at that moment, I submitted quietly, and we walked together towards the market-place. It was during this walk I learned that my companion was not the master of the butter-schooner, but a “Gentleman Volunteer,” absolutely on his way to the head-quarters of the army. So sincerely did he assure me of this, ridiculous as it appeared, that I hesitated not to offer the hospitality of my quarters, which he very readily accepted, and we lost not a moment in proceeding to crack a bottle; or, rather, broach a pig-skin, for in such vessels was the wine of Renteria usually contained. We sat together for a few hours, and I found that, in his new profession, my guest was an enthusiast of the most capacious calibre; yet upon other subjects rational, and sometimes acute. To carry the matter by comparison, I will say that his intellect could have hit a thought, as a screw-barrelled pocket pistol might the ace of hearts, at ten paces, when aimed and discharged by a tolerably good shot--he would never fly a mile from it, but seldom if ever pop right through the centre. A short extract from the conversation of the evening will outline my man, far better than comment. This I will attempt from memory. In the dialogue, I will call him I. and myself II.--not that there were two to one against the Volunteer in any sense; but for the sake of brevity. I. Yes, Captain, I have determined to join my gallant countrymen in their glorious cause, and lend a hand to pull down the tyrant Buonaparte.