"Peste! yes. He should have appointed me to write his epitaph. Chataigneur was the man it was a pleasure to follow to the breach or battle-field; for he cared as little for riding headlong on the charged bayonets of a solid square, or manoeuvring his regiment under a storm of grape-shot, as for handing his partner through the figures of a quadrille. But, to return. The ladies, on perceiving us enter their mansion uninvited, gave us a specimen of Spanish hauteur, by retiring to a distant apartment, and leaving us to provide for ourselves. "This we were not long in doing. The servants had fled; but Chataigneur ordered three grenadiers of the 23rd, who were in attendance upon us, to break down the doors of the cellars and other repositories: thus, in the twinkling of an eye, we had the sherry, the Malaga, and the Ciudad Real of the old beldame in abundance. "We installed ourselves in the finest saloon of the mansion, while messieurs our servants possessed themselves of the kitchen, where they stripped off their accoutrements and coats, piled half-a-dozen shutters, a door, and a chair or two on the hearth; and so zealous were they in preparing a repast for us, that the rascals nearly set the house on fire. All the pantries were laid under contribution, and large conscriptions were levied on the poultry-yard, and we were soon as merry as magnificent quarters, a plenteous supper, and wine ad libitum, without having a sou to pay for them all, could make us. We drank deadly bumpers in honour of the emperor, to the success of his armies, to ourselves, to the continuation of the war, to the girls we had left behind us in beautiful France, and the devil alone knows what more. Oh, the exquisite delights of living at free quarters in an enemy's country! Vive la joie! I need not expatiate upon them to you, for I heard of your pretty doings after Badajoz fell." "They could not compare with yours at Madrid." "You shall hear. 'In the ardour of our attack upon the savoury viands,' said the Chevalier de Vivancourt, a gay sub-lieutenant of the guard, 'we are quite forgetting the ladies!' "'Mon Dieu! yes--what negligence!' said one or two ironically. "'I shall make amends for our ungallantry,' said Chataigneur, starting up and staggering unsteadily; for he had enough of Ciudad Real under his belt to have served even a German. 'Hola! Pierre, Jean Graule, where are the ladies, just now--eh? the sour-visaged madame and plump little mademoiselle?' "'Shall I have the honour of conducting them to the presence of monsieur?' said our sergeant, giving his military salute. 'The mother----' "'Oh the devil take the mother, or you may have her yourself, honest Jean.' "The sergeant bowed, and grinned. "'But sabre de bois! 't is the little daughter I want,' said Chataigneur. "'They are at prayer in their little oratory, I believe,' urged the chevalier, who was the least wicked among us.