With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the PeninsulaBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
General
With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the Peninsula
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Juvenile fiction
It was two hours later when the men fell in at Jack's whistle. They
marched from the cantonments in absolute silence, each man bearing
rations and ammunition on his shoulders, while still more was carried
in a couple of carts. Taking a track that led to the mountains, and
being guided by one of the men who knew the ground intimately, the
little force marched steadily forward and upward till they were well
within a deep fold of the ground that entirely hid them from their
late comrades. Not that there was much chance of their being seen,
for it was now very dark. But their signals might have attracted
attention, and, if news were being taken to the enemy, Tom was wise
enough to know that those who sent it must be somewhere in the
vicinity of our camps.
"We'll take every precaution to bamboozle 'em," he told Jack, with
whom he had discussed matters. "They're hardly likely to notice our
absence from the camp; for 4000 Portuguese irregulars were encamped
beside us, and drew rations with us. Then, if they haven't seen us
move off, and don't see our signals, we shall be in a position to
lay a snare to catch any who may be making for Ciudad Rodrigo. Now
for a couple of fires."
Two flares were lighted almost at once, and, having been allowed to
blaze for a few minutes, were stamped out again. Almost immediately
an answering fire was seen right away above them. An hour or more
later Alfonso put in an appearance with his command.
"We'll march directly up the valley, the Portuguese going first,"
said Tom. "Then we'll camp for the night. To-morrow we can introduce
the men and make our plans for the future."
"What's the work?" asked Jack, whose interest and curiosity were
keen. "Special orders?"
"Yes, there's news getting into Ciudad Rodrigo."
"Ah! Not surprised. We've heaps of loafers always round our camps,
and a sly fellow might easily pick up information and take it to the
enemy. You'll hunt round Ciudad Rodrigo, I suppose?"
"No," declared Tom abruptly. "I shall watch the outskirts of our
camps. If a man leaves, he will be followed. If he comes in the
direction of Ciudad Rodrigo, the information will be signalled to
you. You will arrest and search him."
"I? You mean that you will," exclaimed Jack, for he was ever ready to
concede the post of leader to his chum.
"No; you."
"But," began Jack, "why not you?"
"Because I shall be in Ciudad Rodrigo."
"In the town, behind the defences! That's risky, ain't it?" asked his
friend.
"Orders," declared Tom light-heartedly. "I'm telling them to you
in confidence. See here, Jack. Wellington has given us a nice
little job, and we've to pull ourselves together and carry it out;
information of our troops' movements is leaking out, and Wellington
wishes to keep them very secret; for he intends to take Ciudad
Rodrigo by assault. We've to cloak his movements by capturing all
talebearers, and we've to get inside knowledge of the defences of
Ciudad. Got it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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