enter into the details of that unlucky evening; they succeeded but too well in their plans. Finding that it was in vain to tempt me to play, they made me drink the health of my late patient, in some drugged liquor I suppose, for soon after I fell into a deep sleep, and when I awoke, found myself alone in the room where we had dined, and the light of the sun streaming in through the windows. It was well on to mid-day.

Several minutes passed before I could recollect where I was, and how I had come there. When I had in some measure collected my scattered thoughts, and shaken off the heavy lethargic feeling that still weighed upon me, I hastened to seek my beloved little companion, anxiously wondering what could have become of him. I learned at the house where he lived that he had returned very late the night before, apparently tired and excited; and that early this morning he had received orders to join a portion of his regiment that was posted on the lines two miles from the town. When my daily duties were ended I walked off to where the cadet had been sent. He seemed oppressed and worn out with fatigue and want of rest; I found him lying on a bank beside his tent thinking sadly on Pepita, his gay dress disordered, his long dark hair damp and neglected, and his eyes red with weeping. I took the poor child by the hand, and tried to comfort him in my best Spanish, but for a long time he would only answer me with sobs, and at length he sobbed himself to sleep. I wrapped his little cloak round him, and watched patiently till he awoke, after about an hour's refreshing rest: then he found words, and told me all that had occurred to him since I had gone to sleep at the unlucky entertainment.

The host soon pleaded some excuse and left us, when the Englishman immediately proposed play; dice were laid on the table, but the cadet refused for a long time: he had never played in his life, nor felt its horrible temptations. But in his education this maddening vice had not been guarded against; no one had taught him that its beginning was furious avarice, its end destruction and despair. He was simply innocent of

all knowledge of its pleasures and its woes. The tempter told him that to play was manly, and that if he feared to lose money, he had no spirit. So he played, and lost all he had, and much more. When too tired to go on, he wrote an acknowledgment of what he owed, under the direction of his dangerous associate; and then, very wretched and frightened at what he had done, went home and slept. He would not go, however, till the Englishman promised to see me safely to my billet. I need not add that the promise was not kept. It was about midnight when the cadet went away. My late patient then examined me closely to see that I slept soundly; finding there was but little chance of my interfering with their plans, he quietly shut the door, and left me, hastening to seek his employer and relate his success.

A relation of my little friend, residing in the town, had been requested to watch over him, and supply his wants, while remaining at San Sebastian. To this person the captain of carbineers went early the next morning, and by affecting an interest in the boy, as a brother officer, managed to persuade the guardian to request that his ward might be removed at once from the garrison, to save him from the bad company and dissipated habits he had fallen into. The written acknowledgment of the heavy gambling debt, contracted only the night before, was handed in while the accuser was yet speaking, with a demand for payment from an officer of the Legion waiting outside. This appeared proof conclusive. In half an hour the cadet was on his way to the lines, under strict orders not on any account to re-enter the city. Before he left, he had sent in all directions vainly searching for me to advise him in his emergency, and to make some effort to have this cruch and unaccountable sentence reversed.

The first week of March approached its end. From day to day the order to advance into the Carlist country was expected; the city and the surrounding neighbourhood were full of troops, the streets and roads literally blocked up with guns, ammunition waggons, and bullock-carts, passing and repassing for the armament or supply

of the different divisions of the army. General officers were observed in frequent consultation with their leader. Aides-de-camp galloped about in all directions. Large buildings were cleared out, and churches prepared as hospitals with grim rows of iron bedsteads ranged along the vaulted aisles. Steamboats buzzed backwards and forwards between the harbour and the neighbouring port of Passages. Deserters came and went. Vague rumours seemed to float in the air. Some great and terrible day was plainly close at hand.

Information worthy of being relied on was obtained, that the greater part of the troops had been removed from our front for some remote operations, and that there now remained a force inferior to our own. But this was the flower of the Carlist army. Stout Chapelchuris the "white caps" of Guipuzcoa, hardy shepherds from the hills of Alava, with the Requetè-the fiercest soldiers of Navarre. Their watch-fires blazed each night on the rugged slopes of the Pyrenees; and as the morning sun lighted the deep gorges of the mountains, from every hamlet and shady valley along the line arose their stirring shout, "For God, and for the King." All day long, in sunshine or in storm, they laboured at their intrenchments. The musket was laid carefully aside, and the pick-axe supplied its place. They dug, and delved, and toiled, fencing round each Biscayan cottage as if it were a holy place. Every gentle slope on the projecting spurs of the great mountains was cut and carved into breastworks

d parapets; every ivied wall of their rich orchards was pierced with loopholes, every village church turned into a citadel. Men worked, women aided, children tried to aid. The hated Christinos, and the still more hated English, were before them; behind them lay their own loved and lovely land. And still, as they toiled, when betimes the wearied arm ached and the faithful spirit drooped, a shout would roll along the valleys and echo among the hills that nerved them with a fresh strength, and cheered them with a firmer hope“For God, and for the King."

Late on the afternoon of the 9th of March, aides-de-camp were sent to

all parts of the lines with strict orders that no one should, on any account, be allowed to pass out. An hour after nightfall, the whole army was put in motion, the main part filed on to the glacis of the fortress of San Sebastian, battalion after battalion formed in close column, piled their arms, and lay down in their ranks, preserving a profound silence: the artillery horses were harnessed, and remained in readiness within the city walls. By about two o'clock in the morning, each corps had taken up its place. About eight thousand men were assembled on the space of a few acres ; scarcely a sound was heard, not a creature moved through the streets of the town, not a solitary lamp made "visible" the darkness of the night. The sentries paced their round upon the walls as at other times, and their measured tread was distinct and clear in the noiseless air. And yet, though I saw nothing and heard nothing of them, I felt the crowded thousands round me; there was a heaviness and oppression in the atmosphere like the threat of a coming storm, and the ground seemed slightly to tremble, or rather throb, as if in sympathy with the hearts that beat above in hope or fear.

But among the dwellings within the city, there was anxious hurrying from room to room, and from hundreds of windows straining eyes strove against the thick darkness of the night:-wives, mothers, sisters, and those who, though they bore none of those hallowed names, yet loved most tenderly some one in the assembled host about to brave the chance of life or death. Dolores and Pepita were alone in their large gloomy house; their father was on the walls with his company of the national guard. The convalescent was with his regiment on the glacis; I was there too, attached for the time to the same corps, and the odious captain of carbineers was also at the muster. And where was Pepita's play-fellow? They had not seen him since the night of the illfated entertainment. The second light infantry were drawn up close to the ramparts; of course, the brave boy is there too. "Ay de mi!" said the younger girl to Dolòres, "that I should not see the dear child before the battle." "It can't be helped,"

that hour every city and town, village and hamlet of the north sent forth its armed men to crush us in defeat.

answered her sister, "and it is now full time to go to rest; we are alone in the house too, and midnight has struck long since." But Pepita would not be persuaded; she seated herself in her father's great chair, and bade Dolores good night. The elder sister, seeing her determination, kissed her and went her way. After a little time, the young girl began to yield to fatigue; she cried heartily with anxiety for her dear child, but at length overcome by drowsiness, laid her soft round arm upon the table close by, her head then drooped gently till resting upon it, and she fell sound asleep; while her long black hair, broken loose from its bands, flowed in rich profusion over her graceful neck. She dreamed of her boy lover, for a fond sweet smile played upon her parted lips.

Now a little scene passes that it saddens me to recall to memory. The boy lover has contrived to get away from his regiment unobserved, and has reached the well-known door; it is only closed, not locked. He opens it very gently, and walks with noiseless footsteps into the room, so noiseless that the sleeper is not awakened, kneels down beside her, and for many minutes gazes on her lovely face in silent happiness. But time flies fast. He rises, takes gently in his hand one of her long locks, cuts it off, and puts it in his bosom; then bends over her, presses his lips softly to hers for a moment, and hastens away. And yet that night she only dreamed that he had bidden her farewell.

The cadet had not long rejoined his regiment, where I had sought him, when our conversation was interrupted by a loud trumpet-blast-the sound for the advance.-Ere it had ceased to echo, a broad blue flame shot up into the dark sky from the roof of a house in the centre of the city, illumining the sea and land around with a dismal and sinister light. For an instant, thousands of startled upturned faces shone livid in the sudden gleam, then vanished into darkness deeper than before. But soon, on a neighbouring hill beyond the lines, another flame bursts forth; again from a high peak of the Pyrenees; and again and again, further and further away to the mountains of Navarre, the traitor signal fire flashed forth the notice of our warch, and from

A few battalions went on in front, the artillery followed, next came the main body of the army. We crossed the little river Urumea over the wooden bridge close to the town, followed the road towards Passages for some distance, and then turned into the hilly lands to the south-east of San Sebastian. The heads of columns took positions on or near Alza heights, forming by regiments as they came up, still under cover of the darkness. But though the march was conducted with great order and silence, the heavy rumbling of the guns over the stony roads, and the measured tramp of thousands of armed men were plainly heard for many miles around. By dawn of day the army was in order of battle, with the artillery in position commanding the Ametza hill, where a small Carlist force was intrenched.

Between these opposing forces was a hatred far deadlier than the usual animosity of war. The Christinos and Carlists thirsted for each other's blood, with all the fierce ardour of civil strife, animated by the memory of years of mutual insult, cruelty, and wrong. Brother against brother father against son-best friend turned to bitterest foe-priests against their flocks-kindred against kindred. "For God and for the King,"—"For Liberty and Spain." But to our foes, we of the British Legion were the most odious of all; strangers, mercenaries, heretics, scoffers, polluters of their sacred soil; so did they term us. For us there was no quarter; in the heat of battle, or by cold judicial form, it was all the same: to fall into their hands was certainly a tortured death. Their king had issued the bloody mandate; they were its ready executioners. At different times, and under different circumstances, many of our men had fallen alive into their hands, but the doom of these unfortunates was always the same. About a week since, five Scottish soldiers, while cutting wood, unarmed, in a grove close by our lines, were suddenly seized, bound, and carried away to Hernani, the nearest town; they were tied to stakes in the great square, and shot to death, slowly,

with many wounds, commencing at the feet, and gradually rising higher, till a kind bullet struck some vital spot. One of these victims was a brawny giant with a huge black bushy beard; I recollect him well, it was said he had been the Glasgow hangman. Our men swore frightful vengeance; a black flag- unsanctioned by the authorities - waved over Alza fort; and as orders were given by the generals for the safety of the enemies who might be taken, it was agreed among the soldiers that there should be no prisoners.

Some shots from the English artillery on Alza heights began the battle; as the smoke curled up in white wreaths through the pure morning air, the deadly missiles fell lazily into the Carlist breastworks, and burst with destructive accuracy. At the same time, the Irish brigade of the Legion crossed the valley between us and the enemy at a rapid pace for a time hidden in the mists of the low grounds-but as they neared the hostile parapets they re-appeared, ascending the sloping hill, then their pace increased to a run, and at last they broke, and rushed like a flock of wolves upon the foe. The Carlists waited till the assailants were close at hand, fired one sharp rattling volley into their leading files, and, abandoning the position, fled rapidly down the opposite side of the hill. An English brigade, consisting of the rifles and two London regiments, had at the same time attacked the intrenchments on our right, threatening to cut off a retreat should an effort be made to hold them against the front attack. My duties lay with this portion of the army.

Some time was now passed in pushing our line forward to the new position we had so cheaply gained. The English brigade skirmished against feeble detachments of the Carlists in the hollow to our right, by the banks of the Urumea. In front of the Ametza heights, lay a lovely valley ornamented with picturesque cottages and orchards; to the left there projected into the lowgrounds a wide elevated platform from the stony hill of San Geronimo; beyond this stony hill was the main road to France, the object of our expedition. Some Spanish battalions were pushed across the low grounds to our left front, and

briskly attacked the platform; they made but slow progress, for the Carlists fought stoutly for every foot of ground. Soon, however, the lumbering guns followed, and opened their murderous fire; fresh troops pushed on till the platform was gained, and the defenders retired slowly up the stony hill. But here there was a check. Protected by their parapets, and aided by the difficulties of the rocky slope, the Carlists held their ground, determined, come what might, to cover the great French road. Battalion after battalion of the Christinos charged this height in vain. The regiment of the Princessa, more than two thousand strong, the pride of the sunny south, was beaten back three times, and left its best and bravest dead among the rugged rocks.

Among the inhabitants of these Biscayan provinces, some few had joined the constitutional cause. Perhaps their motives for so doing may not have been purely political, or altogether abstract ideas about liberal governments. However, they formed themselves into a free corps about one thousand strong, and from their fierce courage, hardihood, and knowledge of the country, they were more useful to their friends, and dangerous to their enemies, than any troops in the Queen's army. The fact was, that a great proportion of them were deserters, malefactors escaped from justice, or desperate villains from other European nations. They wore red jackets like the Legion, with waistbelts containing their bayonet and ammunition, a blanket twisted like a rope, passing round over the left shoulder and under the right arm, was their only additional burthen, and a red flat cap or Boyna completed their equipment; this last was called in the Basque tongue Chapelgorri, and from it the corps derived its name. They chose their own officers, owned but little obedience even to the generals, claimed the right of leading the advance, gave or took no quarter, and plundered unmercifully upon all occasions.

These peculiar regulations, though rendering them terrible in war, were attended with certain inconveniences to the members of the corps. They were hunted like wild beasts by their enemies, often condemned and shot for mutiny by their own leaders,

and stabbed in midnight brawls by one another. The result of all this was that on the morning of the 10th of March, only three hundred and eighty Chapelgorris remained alive, to march under their chief "El Pastor."

At break of day, these fierce freebooters had started off on their own account from our far left, and made a dash at a place called Renteria, some distance within the Carlist country. Their attack was unexpected, and after a few random shots, the village was abandoned to them. In this poor place, there was very little plunder to be found, but they took what they could, and destroyed the rest; they chanced, however, upon some gold and silver communion plate in the churches; this they put upon a mule's back, and with laudable precaution sent to the rear; then having done as much with fire and steel as their limited time would permit, they plunged into the deep woody ravines lying between them and the hill of San Gerònimo, and with desperate daring made straight for the scene of strife, through this difficult and hostile country.

Just as the regiment of the Princessa was driven back from their last fierce struggle among the rocks on the hill side, the Chapelgorris, to the great surprise of both friends and foes, emerged from a shady hollow, and shouting like fiends, charged suddenly upon the rear of the Carlists. For a little, they carried all before them, and at one time had actually cleared the parapets that had been so long and bravely defended; but, seeing the weakness of their assailants, and that the attack was unsupported, the Carlists soon rallied, and with a force of ten to one charged down the bloodstained hill. The Chapelgorris held their vantage ground for many minutes, fighting desperately hand to hand with bayonet thrust, and even with the deadly stab of their long knives; but at length some squadrons of Lancers made their way through the rough stones, and piked them without mercy. About half their number, mostly wounded, made their way back into the Christino lines, and having lighted fires, proceeded with perfect unconcern to cook their dinners.

As I said before, the Christino troops held the broad elevated platform at the foot of the Stony Hill.

To the right, between this high ground and the river Urumea, the English brigade of the Legion held the valley. At the extreme advance, by the bank of the stream, on a rising ground, there stood a small cottage, surrounded by a low stone wall, enclosing the little orchard; a handful of men of a London regiment, commanded by my late patient, were thrown into it, with orders to defend it as long as possible, and then to make good their retreat, should they see that the army found it necessary to retire. I was sent with this small detachment to assist the wounded. Our position was completely isolated from all communication with the main body, but to the left rear our flank was protected by a thickly wooded conical hill, held by half a battalion of the second Spanish light infantry; to the left rear of that again, was the broad platform, where our main force lay; from this elevation a threatening row of guns looked out upon the conical hill, extending their protection over its defenders. As long as this connecting position between us and the platform was held, we were safe, for the Urumea covered our right flank, but the force appointed for this duty was under the command of the sullen and treacherous captain of carbineers. During the early part of the day, while the strife was raging upon the hill of San Geronimo, we were in comparative quiet, only intent upon holding our ground, while, with the exception of a few daring skirmishers, every now and then rebuked by the artillery on the platform, the enemy offered us no annoyance.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, when all our repeated attacks upon the Stony Hill on the left had plainly failed, and it became evident that some other means must be found of forcing our way to the great French road, our chiefs began to withdraw their troops from the extreme left, narrowing their front preparatory to returning within the lines for the night. These movements released the stout defenders of San Geronimo, and flushed with their success, but unwearied by their labours, they passed rapidly along the slope of the valleys in front of the platform, from left to right; sheltered from the fire of our artillery by the shade of the