the hour of my departure drew near, he
appeared lower in spirits than I had ever seen him.

"I shall be very lonely without you, Charley," said he, with a sigh, as we
sat the last evening together beside our cheerful wood fire. "I have little
intercourse with the dons; for my Portuguese is none of the best, and only
comes when the evening is far advanced; and besides, the villains, I fear,
may remember the sherry affair. Two of my present staff were with me then."

"Is that the story Power so often alluded to, Major; the King of Spain's--"

"There, Charley, hush; be cautious, my boy. I'd rather not speak about that
till we get among our own fellows."

"Just as you like, Major; but, do you know, I have a strong curiosity to
hear the narrative."

"If I'm not mistaken, there is some one listening at the door,--gently;
that's it, eh?"

"No, we are perfectly alone; the night's early; who knows when we shall
have as quiet an hour again together? Let me hear it, by all means."

"Well, I don't care; the thing, Heaven knows! is tolerably well known; so
if you'll amuse yourself making a devil of the turkey's legs there, I'll
tell you the story. It's very short, Charley, and there's no moral; so
you're not likely to repeat it."

So saying, the major filled up his glass, drew a little closer to the fire,
and began:--

"When the French troops, under Laborde, were marching, upon Alcobaca,
in concert with Loison's corps, I was ordered to convey a very valuable
present of sherry the Duo d'Albu-querque was making to the Supreme
Junta,--no less than ten hogsheads of the best sherry the royal cellars of
Madrid had formerly contained.

"It was stored in the San Vincente convent; and the Junta, knowing a little
about monkish tastes and the wants of the Church, prudently thought it
would be quite as well at Lisbon. I was accordingly ordered, with a
sufficient force, to provide for its safe conduct and secure arrival, and
set out upon my march one lovely morning in April with my precious convoy.

"I don't know, I never could understand, why temptations are thrown in our
way in this life, except for the pleasure of yielding to them. As for me,
I'm a stoic when there's nothing to be had; but let me get a scent of
a well-kept haunch, the odor of a wine-bin once in my nose, I forget
everything except appropriation. That bone smells deliciously, Charley; a
little garlic would improve it vastly.

"Our road lay through cross-paths and m