to look
lighter against the sky, when he started violently, for the clear notes
of a bugle rang out from somewhere beyond the spot where the wounded
lay, to be answered away to left and right over and over again, teaching
plainly enough that it was the reveille, and also that they were in
close proximity to a very large body of troops.

"Just in time, comrade," said Punch coolly, as he rose to his feet.

"Take care!" cried Pen. "It isn't safe to stand up yet."

"Think not? Oh, we shall be all right," replied the boy. "Lead on.
Didn't you know? The reveille was going right behind and off to the
left and right; so there's no troops in front, and all we have got to do
is to get on as fast as we can up the mountain yonder. And it's no
good; I must walk. My wristies are so bad that if I try to crawl any
more on my hands they will drop off. Ain't yours bad?"

"Terribly," replied Pen.

"Come on, then; we must risk it. There, right incline. Can't you see?
There's a bit of a track yonder."

"I didn't see it, Punch," said Pen, as they bore off to their right,
where the way was more open, and they increased their pace now to a
steady walk, a glance back showing them that they were apparently well
screened by the low growth of trees which flourished in the bottom
slopes of the mountains that they could now see more clearly rising in
front.

"We've done it, comrade," said Punch cheerily, "and I call this a bit of
luck."

"Don't talk so loudly."

"Oh, it don't matter," replied the boy. "They're making too much noise
themselves to hear us. Hark at them! Listen to the buzz! Why, it's
just as if there's thousands of them down there, just as you thought;
and we've hit on the right way, for those Frenchies wouldn't come
through here unless it was skirmishing with the enemy in front. Their
enemy's all behind, and they'll be thinking about making their way back
to the mine."

"To see if they can't make up for yesterday's reverses. I'm afraid,
Punch, it's all over with the poor King and his followers."

"Yes," said Punch thoughtfully, as he trudged on as close as he could
get to his companion. "It's a bad lookout for them, comrade; but
somehow I seem to think more of Mr Contrabando. I liked him. Good
luck to the poor chap! And when we get a bit farther on we will pitch
upon a snug spot where there's water, and make a bit of breakfast."

"Breakfast! How?" said Pen, smiling; but, wearied out and faint with
h