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
Two by two the horses went clattering down the steps of the church
and out into the open. Shouts came from the direction of the village,
while other figures joined those bunched together in the rain.
Splashes of flame and loud reports showed that shots were being
fired; but still the procession of horses came from the church. When
all were out, there were, perhaps, fifty of the enemy watching and
firing, while others came rushing from the houses. It appeared, too,
as if they expected the troopers to mount at once and gallop away;
for horns sounded in the distance, while men went dashing in all
directions, as if to warn outlying parties to close in and surround
the troopers. Perched now on the ledge over the doorway, Tom watched
as the horses were led along beside the wall, and saw them swing
round the corner. He waited three minutes, when a trooper came
dashing to him through the room which was littered with masons' tools
and implements.
"Monsieur, all the horses are in the yard; the doors are shut."
"Then let two of you take charge of the forage, not forgetting that
it must last a week at least. Feed the horses and water them."
"Mr. Riley's safe in bed in one o' the rooms yonder, as snug as ef
he was aboard his own ship, sir," reported Howeley, arriving on the
scene now, and grinning his delight. "Mr. Barwood's ditto, a cussin',
sir, 'cos he says as he's fit fer duty."
"Feed them," answered Tom. "You'll find the larder below; take
charge of it, Howeley. I make you responsible for all it contains;
but carry something to the two officers promptly. Now, Andrews," he
said, as that worthy came towards him, "let's clear the church of all
our traps. There are saddle bags and other things to bring with us;
there's the ammunition also."
"Cleared, sir," reported the rifleman, delight showing in every
feature. "I thought as you'd enough and too much to see to, and so I
give them Frenchies orders. They're quick to hop, are them froggies.
It's friends, not enemies, we ought to be. But the church is clear,
sir; there's a dead horse left, and a few of the peasants as was too
inquisitive."
"Then we'll get to breakfast," said Tom heartily. "You've recalled
the man from the tower?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then post one of the troopers on this ledge, and come along.
Something to eat will put us all in a good temper and fit us for
the trouble that's brewing. Those peasants don't seem yet to have
gathered what we are up to. But, in a little while, when they have
guessed at our move, they'll be swarming this way. Here we are.
Across this hall and down the stairs. Ah, there's Howeley--well?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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