‘But of course it will not die!’ said Juana. ‘We are fattening it in quite the proper way.’ ‘Well, that’s what you say,’ answered Colborne, with his lurking smile. ‘But there’s reason in everything, and I think the bird will very likely burst. Whenever I want Fane or Harry, I find them stuffing it with most unsuitable food. In fact, the goose is beginning to embarrass me, for you all watch my plate so jealously at dinner, to see what I shall leave that can be scraped up to be given to the creature, that I am becoming quite shy.’

‘Oh come, now, sir!’ protested Fane. ‘Who tried to make the goose eat a hard-boiled egg? Addled, too!’

‘But you are not to make it eat eggs!’ exclaimed Juana. ‘It is very bad of you, Colborne, very wrong indeed, and I am quite shocked!’

‘I merely offered it,’ said Colborne. ‘Heaven forbid that I should compel that obese bird to eat anything against its will!’

But in the end, all their anxious care of the goose was wasted. On the gth December, the 1st and 7th divisions moved close up to the rear of the Light, which made everyone feel sure that some action was contemplated.

‘Whist, whist, I smell a bird’s nest!’ said Tom Plunket.

‘Yes, and so does Johnny Crapaud!’ replied the Bombproof Man caustically. “This mousetrap smells too strong of cheese. Johnny’s up to snuff all right Every man-jack of them’s been standing to his arms ever since the Gentlemen’s Sons showed their front. I wouldn’t wonder if we had a pretty batch of trouble before the day’s out.’ It was soon learned that the 1st and 7th had moved up for the purpose of crossing the Nive. The Light division received orders to drive back the enemy’s pickets towards Bayonne, by way of creating a diversion. They effected this after a little desultory skirmishing, and at dusk resumed the usual line of pickets.

It was generally thought that nothing further would come of the demonstration, but news filtered through that Hill was moving up to St Pierre, near Bayonne, and Harry, always very alert, was uneasy. He was convinced that the French would create a diversion on the left of the Allied army, and was in the saddle before dawn next day, visiting the advanced pickets, a mile in front of the main body of the brigade. He was joined as soon as it was daylight by Beckwith, who stared with puckered eyelids towards the French lines, and said: ‘What do you think of it, Harry?’

‘I don’t like it. They mean something.’ ‘Why, so I think!’

Colborne came up while they were watching the movement in the French camp. Harry rode a little way to meet him. ‘The enemy are going to attack us,’ he said abruptly. ‘No; they are only going to resume their ordinary posts in our front,’ replied Colborne. ‘But look at the body in our immediate front!’ Harry said. ‘There’s a column over there, if I am not much mistaken, evidently moving on the 1st division!’

His tone was impatient. Colborne knew that he was always uneasy if there was any possibility of a sudden attack, on account of Juana; and paid no attention. He had pulled out his glass, and was looking through it at the enemy’s lines. He detected some flashes in the distance, and said: ‘Those must be some men discharging their pieces.’ The next instant he saw a large body of men advancing, a good way away.

‘By God, the whole army’s in movement!’ Beckwith said, his glass also trained on the column Colborne had seen.

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Colborne said.

‘Come, something must be done!’ Harry burst out. ‘What are you going to do?’ ‘Gently, I must think a little first,’ Colborne replied.

Old Chap began to sidle and fidget, as though infected by Harry’s impatience. ‘At least let me order the brigade under arms!’ begged Harry.

‘Oh, do be quiet, Smith!’ said Colborne, trying to think out his dispositions. ‘I can’t be quiet while nothing is done! We shall be attacked immediately!’ ‘Go and order the brigade under arms, and bring up the 52nd. You had better tell your wife to leave the chateau at once, for I imagine an attack will be made upon it.’ Harry went off at a hand-gallop, just as the French opened fire on the advanced pickets. Juana was ironing shirts when the alarm sounded, and had barely time to put the iron down in the hearth before West came running in to tell her that he had seen Master for a hurried moment, and that the orders were to evacuate the chateau immediately. Juana caught up the shirts, but West said: ‘No time to pack anything, missus: we shall be under fire in a minute!’

‘Go and saddle Tiny then, and I will come directly!’ she said, pulling her riding-habit out of the cupboard. ‘And, West, West! Find Vitty! She ran out a little while ago!’ She had only just scrambled into her habit when the first shots rattled about the walls of the chateau. The 52nd were forming up in battle-order, and there was so much noise and confusion that she had some difficulty in forcing her way to where West had the horses waiting. She was on Tiny’s back in an instant, but demanded in a sharpened tone where Vitty was.

‘I can’t find her, missus! It’s no use, we daren’t stay for her!’

‘Oh, I won’t go without my poor little dog! No, no, she may get killed! We must find her!’ West said roughly: ‘Missus, you heard Master’s orders! It’s my business to get you to where you’ll be safe, and if you don’t come willingly I shall lead Tiny!’

Her eyes flashed, but a musket-ball whistling above their heads made her see how unreasonable it would be to insist upon remaining in such a perilous situation; so, swallowing a sob, she said humbly that she was sorry, and would not be troublesome any more.

The thunder of gun-fire on the left showed that an action was being fought near Bayonne, but although the French made a vigorous attack upon both Castilleur and Arcangues, they did not follow it up by anything more than some rather vicious skirmishing. West had had Juana’s tent loaded on to the pack-mule, and pitched it for her as soon as they got to the rear of the division. She tried not to let herself think about Vitty’s fate, but when Harry came in at the end of the day, tired and harassed, he was met by such a woebegone face, that he said in an attempt to rally Juana’s spirits: ‘Hallo, what’s the matter now? Are you mourning the loss of our goose?’

‘Vitty!’ Juana said, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Oh, has she been snapped up? Poor little Pug! Whew, what a day! What’s for supper?’ Such callous disregard for Vitty’s plight was more than Juana could bear. ‘You are cruel and cold and you don’t care what becomes of my darling! All you think of is food!’ ‘I’m sorry,” said Harry. ‘Of course I care about Vitty, querida. Only, to tell you the truth, I haven’t had a bite to eat all day, and I’m dog-tired besides.’

She flushed scarlet, and dashed the tears out of her eyes, ‘

Oh, I am such a bad wife, mi Enrique! Forgive me! Look, I brought away the bacon we had this morning, and West stuffed some bread into his pockets, and besides that he found some very good vegetables here, so I made a stew. It does not matter about Vitty. You are safe, and that is enough for me!’

She began to serve out the stew. Just as she sat down to share it with Harry, Kitchen put his head into the tent, and said that one of the buglers of the 52nd regiment wanted to see her. ‘Hallo, one of your odd friends?’ said Harry. ‘Send him in, Joe!’

‘But I do not know any of the buglers in the 52nd!’ objected Juana. ‘He cannot want to see me. It must be you he asked for, only Joe is so stupid!’

But when the bugler came in, grinning broadly, he addressed himself to Juana, not to Harry. ‘Beg pardon, missus!’ he said in rough Spanish. ‘I’ve got something in my haversack for you.’

‘What then?’ Juana asked, surprised by his air of mystery.

‘Something you’ll be glad to have, I’ll be bound. I saw her in the scuffle, back there at the chateau, and whipped her up, for it won’t do to lose her, I said to myself!’ ‘Vitty!’ cried Juana, jumping up.

‘That’s right, missus,’ said the bugler, hauling the unhappy little pug out of his haversack, and putting her into Juana’s arms. ‘She’s been in there all day, as good as you please, barring a bit of whimpering on and off!’

7

With the recovery of her pet, Juana’s spirit’s rose mercurially. The discomforts of bivouacking for several days without the least vestige of baggage became at once very good fun, and when the French were finally driven back, and the brigade returned to Casteilleur, not even the discovery that some of her belongings had been stolen had the power to depress her. Tom Fane was loudly and indignantly condemning the French thieves who had rifled the contents of his portmanteau, and Billy Mein was bewailing the loss of the goose, ‘just as he was fattening up!’ but Juana said that although it was a great pity Ugly Tom had been robbed, she was not at all sorry the goose had gone. ‘For I don’t think we could have eaten him, do you?’ she said seriously.

‘Oh, couldn’t we just!’ said Mein.

‘No, Billy, because we had become too fond of him, and besides, the Coronel gave him bad things to eat.’

‘Shame!’ said Colborne, looking up with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Good-bye to our grand dinner!’ said Mein.

‘Not a bit of it!’ said Harry briskly. ‘I know how we can contrive to make up for losing the goose.’

‘You would, of course,’ said Fane. ‘Found some more smugglers?’ ‘Devil a one! But we’ll invite the Commissary to the party!’

‘Harry,’ said Colborne, ‘if you’re not cashiered for impudence, you ought to go far. I foresee a brilliant career.’

‘Well, I hope we may still be here at Christmas,’ said Fane, somewhat pessimistically. There did indeed seem to be some doubt about the matter, for the French in their front showed enough liveliness to keep them continually on the alert. Officers responsible for posting pickets found the frequent alarms wearing, and Harry, never one to take his duties lightly, began to look red-eyed again from lack of sleep.