"I cannot say how the Spaniards and Portuguese came off; but out of 6000 British and Hanoverian troops actually engaged more than 4000 were killed, wounded, or missing," Captain Jamieson replied. "The French, I believe, lost between 7000 and 8000 men. As for the poor old --th, we went into action over 400 strong, and on the morrow only 53 bayonets mustered at parade! The battalion may almost be said to have ceased to exist." "Well might Byron exclaim, `O Albuera, glorious field of grief!'" said S--. "But you have not told us how you fared after the battle." "Well, I lay crushed beneath the chasseur's dead charger until morning, when I was found by a party of the light company who had been searching for me throughout the night. My wounds were not very severe, and when I recovered, the commanding officer, Major K--, appointed me sergeant-major of the battalion. I held that post until the end of the war, when I was invalided home and promoted to an ensigncy on the half-pay list. In 1821 they gave me my lieutenancy in the Cape Mounted Rifles." "You are to be congratulated on having seen so much active service," said Major G--n. "I always envy you Peninsula heroes. Few men, I should imagine, have passed through so much peril, and yet lived to tell the tale." "I am not out of the wood yet, G--n," was Jamieson's quiet rejoinder. "But talking of peril, no man has experienced more of `moving accidents by flood and field' than my friend Richards," he went on, nodding at a wiry-built grave-looking man who sat near him. "You've seen some rough work in America--eh, John?" "Yes, Jamieson," responded the person addressed, who was an officer of native levies; "but not such work as you've been describing. This, you must know, is my first regular campaign. I have always been a `man of peace,' gentlemen--that is to say, when the Red-skins would let me!" "Which was seldom enough, no doubt," put in Captain Jamieson. "By the way, hadn't you a remarkable escape from the Indians some years ago? I think I remember hearing of it." "A--ah!" rejoined Mr Richards with a sort of gasp--he spoke, too, with a slight American intonation; "a--ah! that _was_ an adventure! Why, do you know, gentlemen, that though it happened twenty-two years ago come next fall, I feel kinder nervous even now when I think of it; for 'twas just about the very narrowest shave of being scalped that ever I did run." "Come, tell us all about it, John," said the captain. "I'm sure our friends will appreciate the yarn."