one between one army and another. It
was only here in Spain that we learned how terrible a thing it is to
fight against a people.

On the one hand there is no glory, for what glory could be gained
by defeating this rabble of elderly shopkeepers, ignorant peasants,
fanatical priests, excited women, and all the other creatures who made
up the garrison? On the other hand there were extreme discomfort and
danger, for these people would give you no rest, would observe no rules
of war, and were desperately earnest in their desire by hook or by crook
to do you an injury. I began to realise how odious was our task as I
looked upon the motley but ferocious groups who were gathered round the
watch-fires in the garden of the Convent of the Madonna. It was not for
us soldiers to think about politics, but from the beginning there always
seemed to be a curse upon this war in Spain.

However, at the moment I had no time to brood over such matters as
these. There was, as I have said, no difficulty in getting as far as the
convent garden, but to pass inside the convent unquestioned was not so
easy.

The first thing which I did was to walk round the garden, and I was soon
able to pick out one large stained-glass window which must belong to the
chapel. I had understood from Hubert that the Mother Superior's room,
in which the powder was stored, was near to this, and that the train
had been laid through a hole in the wall from some neighbouring cell. I
must, at all costs, get into the convent. There was a guard at the door,
and how could I get in without explanations? But a sudden inspiration
showed me how the thing might be done. In the garden was a well, and
beside the well were a number of empty buckets. I filled two of these,
and approached the door. The errand of a man who carries a bucket of
water in each hand does not need to be explained. The guard opened to
let me through. I found myself in a long, stone-flagged corridor, lit
with lanterns, with the cells of the nuns leading out from one side of
it. Now at last I was on the high road to success. I walked on without
hesitation, for I knew by my observations in the garden which way to go
for the chapel.

A number of Spanish soldiers were lounging and smoking in the corridor,
several of whom addressed me as I passed. I fancy it was for my blessing
that they asked, and my "Ora pro nobis" seemed to entirely satisfy them.
Soon I had got as far as the chapel, and it was easy enough t