As we rode beneath the moonlight in the lovely Spanish night, we spoke our minds to each other, as if we were brothers.  We were both of an age, you see, both of the light cavalry also (the Sixteenth Light Dragoons was his regiment), and both with the same hopes and ambitions.  Never have I learned to know a man so quickly as I did the Bart.  He gave me the name of a girl whom he had loved at a garden called Vauxhall, and, for my own part, I spoke to him of little Coralie, of the Opera.  He took a lock of hair from his bosom, and I a garter.  Then we nearly quarrelled over hussar and dragoon, for he was absurdly proud of his regiment, and you should have seen him curl his lip and clap his hand to his hilt when I said that I hoped it might never be its misfortune to come in the way of the Third.  Finally, he began to speak about what the English call sport, and he told such stories of the money which he had lost over which of two cocks could kill the other, or which of two men could strike the other the most in a fight for a prize, that I was filled with astonishment.  He was ready to bet upon anything in the most wonderful manner, and when I chanced to see a shooting star he was anxious to bet that he would see more than me, twenty-five francs a star, and it was only when I explained that my purse was in the hands of the brigands that he would give over the idea.

Well, we chatted away in this very amiable fashion until the day began to break, when suddenly we heard a great volley of musketry from somewhere in front of us.  It was very rocky and broken ground, and I thought, although I could see nothing, that a general engagement had broken out.  The Bart laughed at my idea, however, and explained that the sound came from the English camp, where every man emptied his piece each morning so as to make sure of having a dry priming.

‘In another mile we shall be up with the outposts,’ said he.

I glanced round at this, and I perceived that we had trotted along at so good a pace during the time that we were keeping up our pleasant chat, that the dragoon with the lame horse was altogether out of sight.  I looked on every side, but in the whole of that vast rocky valley there was no one save only the Bart and I—­both of us armed, you understand, and both of us well mounted.  I began to ask myself whether after all it was quite necessary that I should ride that mile which would bring me to the British outposts.

Now, I wish to be very clear with you on this point, my friends, for I would not have you think that I was acting dishonourably or ungratefully to the man who had helped me away from the brigands.  You must remember that of all duties the strongest is that which a commanding officer owes to his men.  You must also bear in mind that war is a game which is played under fixed rules, and when these rules are broken one must at once claim the forfeit.  If, for example, I had given a parole, then I should