been thrown, when your horse, which was
probably hit by a bullet, ran away with you into the ranks of the
enemy's cavalry. After that we were, of course, more comfortable
about you, and Mary maintained that you would very soon be turning
up again, like a bad penny.
"I need not say that we are constantly talking about you. Now, take
care of yourself, Terence. Bear in mind that, if you get yourself
killed, there will be no more adventures for you--at least, none
over which you will have any control. Your cousin has just
expressed the opinion that she does not think you were born to be
shot; she thinks that a rope is more likely than a bullet to cut
short your career. She is writing to you herself; and as her tongue
runs a good deal faster than mine, I have no doubt that her pen
will do so, also. As you say, with your Portuguese pay and your
own, you are doing well; but if you should get pinched at any time,
be sure to draw on me, up to any reasonable amount.
"It seems to me that things are not going on very well, on the
frontier; and I should not be surprised to hear that Wellington is
in full retreat again, for Torres Vedras. Remember me to the
colonel, O'Driscoll, and all the others. I see, by the Gazette,
that Stokes, who was junior ensign when the regiment went into
action at Vimiera, has just got his step. That shows the changes
that have taken place, and how many good fellows have fallen out of
the ranks. Again I say, take care of yourself.
"Your affectionate Father."
His cousin's letter was, as usual, long and chatty; telling him
about his father, their pursuits and amusements, and their
neighbours.
"You don't deserve so long a letter," she said, when she was
approaching the conclusion, "for although I admit your letters are
long, you never seem to tell one just the things one wants to know.
For example, you tell us exactly the road you travelled down to
Cadiz, with the names of the villages and so on, just as if you
were writing an official report. Your father says it is very
interesting, and has been working it all out on the map. It is very
interesting to me to know that you have got safely to Cadiz but, as
there were no adventures by the way, I don't care a snap about the
names of the villages you passed through, or the exact road you
traversed.
"Now, on the other hand, I should like to know all about this young
woman who helped you to get out of prison. You don't say a word
about what she is l
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