“Then, after all,” exclaimed Lady Mabel, “the Englishman won the field.”

“Yes, to our cost,” said L’Isle, bitterly.  “What made it more provoking was, that we had at that very time the man to mate him;” and, standing up on his stirrups, he raised his clenched hand above his head, exclaiming:  “O, for one hour of Peterborough to grapple with his countryman and redeem the day!”

“What is the matter with Colonel L’Isle?” asked Mrs. Shortridge, who was riding close behind with Cranfield.

“He is only leaping back to the beginning of the last century,” answered Lady Mabel, “to reverse the issue of the battle of Almansa.”

“Why, has not the colonel fighting enough before him,” said Cranfield, laughing, “that he must go back so far for more?”

“Let us be content with what we have,” said L’Isle joining in the laugh.  “It is useless to dwell on old disasters but by way of shunning new ones.  It has been our constant luck to go into battle shoulder to shoulder with allies who, except when in our pay, seldom stand by us to the end of the day.”

The river was now at hand.  Turning to the right before reaching San Christoval, they entered the tete du pont, and soon found themselves on a noble granite bridge of many arches.  The voices of many singers drew their eyes to the banks of the river, where they saw all the washerwomen of the city, collected in pursuit of their calling, and lightening their labors with song, the burden of which, “Guadiana, Guadiana,” fell often on the ear, while the sun-beams bleached the linen spread out on the banks of the stream, and tanned the faces of the industrious choir chanting its praise.

“This, then, is the Guadiana!” said Lady Mabel, peeping over the parapet.  “I feel bound to admire its broad face, but miss the swift current and pellucid waters of the poetasters, to whose bounties the river god owes much of his fame.”

“While you and our party loiter here, searching out the beauties of the Guadiana,” said L’Isle, “I will ride on and secure our peaceful reception at the gate.  A Spanish sentinel is often asleep, and apt to prove his vigilance by firing on whoever wakes him up.”

Presently following L’Isle, who luckily found the sentinel awake, they reached the southern end of the bridge, and passing between two beautiful round towers of white marble, now tinted straw-color with age, they entered the northern gate of the city, and soon sought hospitality at the Posada de los Caballeros.

Putting up their horses here, they left the servants to see that a dinner was got ready; this meal, at a Spanish inn, depending less on what you find there than on what you bring with you.  Three Spanish officers were lounging at the posada, one of whom immediately claimed Cranfield’s acquaintance, and introduced his companions.  Cranfield did not seem delighted to meet with him, nevertheless he presented them to