was
going on. I then perceived that these people were peasants, who were
loading two waggons with empty wine-casks. I failed to see how they
could either help or hinder me, so I continued upon my way.

But soon I understood that my task was not so simple as had appeared. As
the ground rose the vineyards ceased, and I came upon a stretch of open
country studded with low hills. Crouching in a ditch I examined them
with a glass, and I very soon perceived that there was a watcher upon
every one of them, and that these people had a line of pickets and
outposts thrown forward exactly like our own. I had heard of the
discipline which was practised by this scoundrel whom they called "The
Smiler," and this, no doubt, was an example of it.

Between the hills there was a cordon of sentries, and though I worked
some distance round to the flank I still found myself faced by the
enemy. It was a puzzle what to do.

There was so little cover that a rat could hardly cross without being
seen. Of course, it would be easy enough to slip through at night, as I
had done with the English at Torres Vedras, but I was still far from
the mountain and I could not in that case reach it in time to light the
midnight beacon. I lay in my ditch and I made a thousand plans, each
more dangerous than the last. And then suddenly I had that flash of
light which comes to the brave man who refuses to despair.

You remember I have mentioned that two waggons were loading up with
empty casks at the inn. The heads of the oxen were turned to the east,
and it was evident that those waggons were going in the direction which
I desired. Could I only conceal myself upon one of them, what better and
easier way could I find of passing through the lines of the guerillas?
So simple and so good was the plan that I could not restrain a cry
of delight as it crossed my mind, and I hurried away instantly in the
direction of the inn. There, from behind some bushes, I had a good look
at what was going on upon the road.

There were three peasants with red montero caps loading the barrels, and
they had completed one waggon and the lower tier of the other. A number
of empty barrels still lay outside the wine-house waiting to be put on.

Fortune was my friend--I have always said that she is a woman and cannot
resist a dashing young Hussar. As I watched, the three fellows went into
the inn, for the day was hot and they were thirsty after their labour.
Quick as a flash I darted