his rival,--a
circumstance, I could plainly perceive, not disliked by either party.

"Come back, Charley, that villain of yours has given me the cramp, standing
here on the cold pavement. We'll have a little warm posset,--very small and
thin, as they say in Tom Jones,--and then to bed."

Notwithstanding the abstemious intentions of the major, it was daybreak
ere we separated, and neither party in a condition for performing upon the
tight-rope.

CHAPTER LV.

THE LEGION.

My services while with the Legion were of no very distinguished character,
and require no lengthened chronicle. Their great feat of arms, the repulse
of an advanced guard of Victor's corps, had taken place the very morning I
had joined them, and the ensuing month was passed in soft repose upon their
laurels.

For the first few days, indeed, a multiplicity of cares beset the worthy
major. There was a despatch to be written to Beresford, another to
the Supreme Junta, a letter to Wilson, at that time with the corps of
observation to the eastward. There were some wounded to be looked after, a
speech to be made to the conquering heroes themselves, and lastly, a few
prisoners were taken, whose fate seemed certainly to partake of the most
uncertain of war's proverbial chances.

The despatches gave little trouble; with some very slight alterations, the
great original, already sent forward to Sir Arthur, served as a basis for
the rest. The wounded were forwarded to Alcantara, with a medical staff; to
whom Monsoon, at parting, pleasantly hinted that he expected to see all the
sick at their duty by an early day, or he would be compelled to report the
doctors. The speech, which was intended as a kind of general order, he
deferred for some favorable afternoon when he could get up his Portuguese;
and lastly, came the prisoners, by far the most difficult of all his cares.
As for the few common soldiers taken, they gave him little uneasiness,--as
Sir John has it, they were "mortal men, and food for powder;" but there
was a staff-officer among them, aiguilletted and epauletted. The very
decorations he wore were no common temptation. Now, the major deliberated a
long time with himself, whether the usages of modern war might not admit of
the ancient, time-honored practice of ransom. The battle, save in glory,
had been singularly unproductive: plunder there was none; the few
ammunition-wagons and gun-carriages were worth little or nothing; so that,
save the