at Brazil, and
see what is wanting! The soil is rich, the climate delightful, the
territory boundless, and the city would soon become more flourishing
than Lisbon. Here he might extend his commerce, make discoveries in
the interior, and take the title of Emperor of the West.' In truth,
the behavior of the house of Braganza in this migration, contrasts
well with the infamous conduct of the Spanish Bourbons."

They had strolled on to the foot of a tower within the fort, and
Cranfield led the party to the top to survey the panorama around them.
The horizon was pretty equally divided between Portugal and Spain. On
the North, close at hand, rose the rugged Serra de Portalegre, famous
for its chesnut forests; to the west was the fertile plain of Eastern
Alemtejo, crossed by the enormous pile of the aqueduct, and backed by
the heights of Serra D'Ossa; to the south and east, the valley of the
Guadiana lay before them, with few marks of culture on the Spanish
side; and the eye could range over the sheep pastured plains of
Estremadura to the misty sides and blue tops of the sierras that shut
them in on either hand.

In the East, nine miles off, by the straight path the vulture makes,
rose Badajoz, capped by its castle, and over-looked by fort San
Christoval on a high hill across the river. The fame of its sieges
during this war, its stubborn defence and bloody fall within the year,
drew the eyes of the ladies on it. L'Isle pulled out a field glass to
aid them in inspecting it. When the Portuguese ladies got hold of it,
they were as much delighted as children with a new toy, snatching it
out of each other's hands, without allowing time for its deliberate
use, and protesting against their Spanish neighbors being brought so
near to them.

"If they are so delighted at the powers of this little thing," said
L'Isle, "what would they think of the glass Lord Wellington had put up
in this tower during the siege of Badajoz?"

"Were its powers so great?" Mrs. Shortridge asked.

"Wonderful, according to rumor," answered L'Isle, "But I never had
time to come from the trenches to prove them. It is said to have
brought Badajoz so near, that you saw how the French soldiers made
their soup, and even smell the garlic they put into it. Once, when my
Lord saw Philipon leaning against the parapet of the castle, sneering
at the besieger's clumsy approaches, he so far forgot himself, as to
call for his holsters, that he might pistol the contempt