"Look you, senores," said Ronald; "’tis madness of you to obstruct me. Our soldiers are thronging all about the village, and by a single blast on this, I will summon a hundred men in a moment." As he spoke, he disengaged from his belt the silver whistle which, as a light infantry officer, was now part of his appointments. By this movement the folds of his plaid were raised, and the golden cross of St. James glittered before the eyes of the Spaniards, whose favour was instantly won by the sight of the well-known Spanish badge of military achievement. They fell back right and left, and the passage was free. De Mesmai, vowing vengeance against them, departed with his deliverer, who soon got him attired in other clothing, which, though somewhat motley, was preferable to the rags he had lately worn. Adjourning to a _taberna_, kept by an old Jewess, they partook of an _olla podrida_,—a mess composed of fragments of fowl, flesh, and various ingredients stewed together; an excellent dish, when well spiced and seasoned, and one that is considered very substantial and nourishing by the Spaniards. For this, and a stoup of very sour wine, the conscientious _patrona_ charged Ronald two duros. After this they parted. Ronald had to take command of the escort of the regimental baggage, and De Mesmai was sent to the rear-guard, with whom some other prisoners of war marched. The unfortunate cuirassier, with true French volubility, gave Stuart a profusion of thanks for his kindness, and departed, swearing by the bomb that he would make his escape on the first opportunity which offered. This threat he executed two days afterwards, near Talavera de la Reina, when the division was on its march; and, aided by some Spaniards in the French interest, he gained Andalusia in safety, and rejoined Marshal Soult’s army at Cordova.