Tom had already reported the raising of the Spanish force, and lamely admitted that they had been engaged with the enemy. "We beat them off twice, sir," he said. "Then they received reinforcements, and matters would have been ugly." "Ah, would have been!" smiled the general. "How did they clear up, then? You had an agreement with the enemy?" "I met a friend," admitted our hero, with rising colour; "one of the troopers who helped to defend the church. Then the officer came forward and told us to move off, and declined to fight further." "And a gallant fellow he was, too!" laughed Wellington. "However, you cannot always hope for such fortune, though I congratulate you on the behaviour of your Spaniards. How I wish all would act likewise, instead of being for the most part wholly unreliable! But now for a mission--it means danger." Tom drew himself up and saluted. "Quite so, sir," he said cheerfully. "It is a species of forlorn hope; discovery means death." "What are the orders, sir?" asked Tom respectfully, never flinching. "And success means much to me. I want reliable information as to the defences of Ciudad Rodrigo. I rely absolutely on the discretion of the officer I employ, for my intention of attacking that place must never be guessed at. I want that information, and I want to learn how it is that certain of our secrets have reached the enemy. There, Mr. Clifford; I give no orders; volunteers alone undertake the forlorn hope." "Then I volunteer now, sir," exclaimed Tom promptly. "Am I to make what use I like of my men?" "You are to dispose them so as to prevent anyone entering or leaving Ciudad Rodrigo without observation," came the sharp answer. "Good evening, Mr. Clifford!" Our hero saluted with precision, turned about with the smartness that became a soldier, and hurried away. "Well?" asked Jack, all eagerness. "Let the men make ready for an early start. Draw rations and ammunition for a couple of weeks; I'll be back in an hour." Tom swung himself into his saddle and rode away to the outskirts of the cantonments; for the troops were now in winter quarters, and already the weather had been severe. "Now, how's it to be done?" he asked himself. "I've to get into Ciudad Rodrigo, which I know swarms with French soldiers, and I am to intercept messages that appear to be going to the enemy. How's it all to be done?" Walking his horse well away from the vicinity of the troops, he thought the matter out, and returned to his own command just as darkness was falling. "Let the men eat," he said abruptly. "We will march when darkness has fallen, and so attract no attention. There may be people about watching our troops."