On the evening of the 8th of November, the weather being remarkably fine, the French officers sent their bands to the river-side to play for the entertainment of the British, and many courtesies were interchanged; flasks of wine and bunches of fruit were tossed over by the French, who, avoiding military topics, conversed with soldier-like frankness on other subjects. Ronald took the opportunity to inquire after his old acquaintance, Captain de Mesmai, and was informed that his regiment, the 10th Cuirassiers, was stationed at St. Jean de Luz, near Bayonne. A young officer of _chasseurs à cheval_ said he hoped the British passed their time pleasantly amid the gaieties of Cambo, and with the fair dames of that beautiful city. Stuart replied in the same tone of raillery, that the French ladies had all retired with their countrymen, at the sight of the scarlet coats; an answer which evidently piqued monsieur. In exchange for some London newspapers, containing the despatches of Lord Wellington, detailing the victory of Vittoria, an old major, wearing a dozen medals on his breast, threw across the river a bundle of Parisian _Moniteurs_, containing the false and very contradictory despatches of King Joseph on the same affair. Some Spanish Journals, the _Gaceta de la Regencia_, and the _Gaceta de Valencia_, they refused to receive, and politely returned. Between deadly enemies, intercourse such as this renders war at once noble and chivalric. By it the heart of the sternest soldier becomes again humanized, and the barbarities incident to his profession are lessened and mitigated. On the same evening a remarkable circumstance occurred, about a mile above Cambo. A French guard were about to kill a bullock for their rations; but the animal broke loose, and plunging into the stream, swam to the British side, and fell among a picquet of the Gordon Highlanders, commanded by Chisholm; by them it was instantly shot, flayed, and cut up, and all were rejoicing in expectation of a savoury meal, when a French soldier, with a white handkerchief displayed on the point of his sword, forded the river; advancing to the picquet, he craved in the name of his comrades, that the flesh might be divided, adding that surely _les Ecossois_ would not deprive brothers of the sword of the only meal chance had given them for two days. It was impossible to refuse. Two other soldiers arrived, and they were sent back laden with half the carcase, and their canteens filled with wine, for which the poor fellows seemed very grateful; and one returned, presenting the thanks and compliments of their officer to Chisholm for his kindness.[*] The officers of each army spent the evening in conversing across the river, laughing and jesting like old friends; and when it grew dark, with many adieus they parted,—to meet on the next morning with their swords in their hands.