passenger. This was all the information we could extract from our
taciturn friend; but we saw plainly that the officer was somebody of
importance, from the respect paid him by the soldiers and others whom he
met.

The morning following this incident we were sitting over our chocolate,
when an orderly dragoon came to ask for Captain Ready. The captain went
out to speak to him, and presently returning, went on with his breakfast
very deliberately.

When he had done, he asked me if I were inclined for a little excursion
out of the town, which would, perhaps, keep us a couple of days away. I
willingly accepted, heartily sick as I was of the monotonous life we were
leading. We packed up our valises, took our pistols and cutlasses, and
went out.

To my astonishment the orderly was waiting at the door with two
magnificent Spanish chargers, splendidly accoutred. They were the finest
horses I had seen in Peru, and my curiosity was strongly excited to know
who had sent them, and whither we were going. To my questions, Ready
replied that we were going to visit the officer whom he had spoken to on
the preceding day, and who was with the besieging army, and had once been
his passenger, but he declared he did not know his name or rank.

We had left the town about a mile behind us, when we heard the sound of
cannon in the direction we were approaching; it increased as we went on,
and about a mile further we met a string of carts, full of wounded, going
in to Lima. Here and there we caught sight of parties of marauders, who
disappeared as soon as they saw our orderly. I felt a great longing and
curiosity to witness the fight that was evidently going on--not, however,
that I was particularly desirous of taking share in it, or putting myself
in the way of the bullets. My friend the captain jogged on by my side,
taking little heed of the roar of the cannon, which to him was no novelty;
for having passed his life at sea, he had had more than one encounter with
pirates and other rough customers, and been many times under the fire of
batteries, running in and out of blockaded American ports. His whole
attention was now engrossed by the management of his horse, which was
somewhat restive, and he, like most sailors, was a very indifferent rider.

On reaching the top of a small rising ground, we beheld to the left the
dark frowning bastions of the fort, and to the right the village of Bella
Vista, which, although commanded by the guns of Ca