ld, starry,
and clear, and the road dry, with a touch of frost. For all that, I had
not the smallest intention to make a long stage of it; and about ten
o'clock, spying on the right-hand side of the way the lighted windows of
an ale-house, I determined to bait there for the night.

It was against my principle, which was to frequent only the dearest
inns; and the misadventure that befell me was sufficient to make me more
particular in the future. A large company was assembled in the parlour,
which was heavy with clouds of tobacco-smoke, and brightly lighted up by
a roaring fire of coal. Hard by the chimney stood a vacant chair in what
I thought an enviable situation, whether for warmth or the pleasure of
society; and I was about to take it when the nearest of the company
stopped me with his hand.

"Beg thy pardon, sir," said he; "but that there chair belongs to a
British soldier."

A chorus of voices enforced and explained. It was one of Lord
Wellington's heroes. He had been wounded under Rowland Hill. He was
Colbourne's right-hand man. In short, this favoured individual appeared
to have served with every separate corps, and under every individual
general in the Peninsula. Of course I apologised. I had not known. The
devil was in it if a soldier had not a right to the best in England. And
with that sentiment, which was loudly applauded, I found a corner of a
bench, and awaited, with some hopes of entertainment, the return of the
hero. He proved, of course, to be a private soldier. I say of course,
because no officer could possibly enjoy such heights of popularity. He
had been wounded before San Sebastian, and still wore his arm in a
sling. What was a great deal worse for him, every member of the company
had been plying him with drink. His honest yokel's countenance blazed as
if with fever, his eyes were glazed and looked the two ways, and his
feet stumbled as, amidst a murmur of applause, he returned to the midst
of his admirers.

Two minutes afterwards I was again posting in the dark along the
highway; to explain which sudden movement of retreat I must trouble the
reader with a reminiscence of my services.

I lay one night with the out-pickets in Castile. We were in close touch
with the enemy; the usual orders had been issued against smoking, fires,
and talk, and both armies lay as quiet as mice, when I saw the English
sentinel opposite making a signal by holding up his musket. I repeated
it, and we both crept tog