his friends and confounded his enemies. No man knew where
Peterborough would next turn up. "In journeys he outrides the post,"
Dean Swift wrote of him, and the Dean goes on to say,

So wonderful his expedition,
When you have not the least suspicion,
He's with you like an apparition.

Add to this that the Earl was a charming man, full of courage and
enthusiasm, and able to command the unbounded affection of his troops,
and you have the born leader of men. Of Peterborough's brilliant
exploits in the Peninsula in 1705 a whole book might be written. His
chief attention was first given to the important town of Barcelona, a
place which had successfully withstood Rooke, and in the most
remarkable fashion he captured the strong fort of Monjuich, the
citadel of the town, with a force of only 1,200 foot and 200 horse.
Barcelona itself fell for a time into the hands of Peterborough and
the Archduke Charles, now calling himself Charles III of Spain.
Success followed upon success, and whole provinces, Catalonia and
Valencia, were won over. So marvellous was the story of his doings,
indeed, that when, in the course of time, George Fairburn heard it, in
the distant Netherlands, he was disposed to wish he had remained in
Spain. Yet he had done very well, in that same year 1705, as we shall
see.

Almost from his resumption of the command in the early spring of that
year, Marlborough met with vexations and disappointments. He had
formed the great plan of invading France by way of the Moselle valley,
and our two heroes, who had heard whispers as to the work being cut
out for the Allies, were ready to dance with delight. They were still
frisky boys out of school, one may say. But the plan was opposed in
two quarters. First, the Dutch, statesmen and generals alike, threw
every obstacle in the way. They would not hear of the project. Then
Louis of Baden was in one of his worst sulky fits, and for a time
refused his help. When he did consent to go, he demanded a delay,
pleading that a wound he had received at the Schellenberg, in the
previous year, was not yet fully healed. The troops the Duke expected
did not come in; instead of the 90,000 he wanted, but 30,000 mustered.

"It is no go," Blackett said to his friend with a groan.

At this juncture the Emperor Leopold died, and the Archduke's elder
brother Joseph succeeded him.

"Spain is bound in the long run to drop into the hands of either
France or Austria," the two young off