Some of these gentlemen stopped L’Isle to talk with him.  But, avoiding any prolonged conversation, he hastened across the praca, into one of the narrow and uncleanly streets, along which he picked his way, wishing that he had authority, for a few days, to turn the good people of Elvas, clergy and all, into scavengers, and enter on a thorough purification of the place, beginning with the persons of the people themselves.  A moral purification might possibly follow, but could not possibly precede this physical cleansing.  Walking along, divided between these thoughts and the necessity of looking for the place he was searching for, he heard himself called by some one behind him.  He turned; it was Commissary Shortridge himself, who being rather pursy, was a little out of breath through his exertions to overtake him.

Now, there were a good many things that L’Isle despised.  But, if there was any thing that he did despise beyond all others, it was a commissary—­a fellow who makes his gains where all other men make their losses; who devotes himself to his country’s service for the express purpose of cheating it; who seizes the hour of its greatest want and weakness, to bleed it most freely; who, as often as he can, sells to his country straw for hay, chaff for corn, and bones for beef; the master-stroke of whose art is to get passed, by fraudulent vouchers, accounts full of imaginary articles, charged at fabulous prices; in short, a man who loves war more than Mars or Achilles; reaping, amidst its blood and havoc, a rich harvest in safety.  Our commissary was not quite equal in professional skill to some of his brethren.  Perhaps he had some small remnant of conscience left, or of patriotism, or of loyalty, or of caution, which withheld him from plundering king and country with both hands.  Nevertheless, from being an unprosperous London tradesman, he had, in a few years, contrived to line his pockets exceedingly well, and had now grown ambitious of social position.

How came it then, when the commissary had expressed very copiously his delight at seeing Colonel L’Isle again, and yet more at seeing him so much better in health and strength than he had dared to hope, L’Isle condescendingly gave him to understand that the pleasure of this meeting was not all on the commissary’s side?  When Shortridge congratulated him on his promotion, and yet more on the high deserts that had drawn it upon him, L’Isle’s manner implied that the commissary’s good opinion gave him greater confidence in himself.  How could L’Isle do this?  Simply because the proudest and best of us can tolerate, and even flatter, those we despise, when we have urgent occasion to use them.

The commissary then said, “I have brought Mrs. Shortridge with me to Elvas.”

“I am very glad to hear it,” answered L’Isle, without betraying that he knew it before.  “Even one English lady is a precious addition to our society in this dull place.”