ompanions and secreted in a peasant's
hut. The troops, swearing vengeance, searched the hut next to it, but,
by some accident, failed to continue the quest to the refuge of the
wounded man. He bled profusely, but the haemorrhage was finally arrested
by some rude bandaging, and at night he was helped astride a donkey, and
conveyed across the frontier into France. He told me he had suffered
excruciating torments at every jolt of the jog-trotting animal on that
mountain journey. Had the bullet struck him an inch higher he would have
had to suffer amputation; but his luck stood to him, and at the time we
met he was getting on fairly towards recovery, thanks to youth, a good
constitution, and the healthy air of St. Jean de Luz. I could not
understand the ardour of Leader's partisanship for the Carlists. He
spoke the merest smattering of Spanish, and had no profound intimacy
with the vexed question of Spanish politics or the rights of the rival
Spanish houses. The ill-natured whispered that he was crying "Viva la
Republica" when he was knocked over. It is possible, for he had fought
for the French Republic with Bourbaki's army, and may, in his
excitement, have forgotten under what flag he was serving. I take it he
was a soldier by instinct, and ranged himself on the side of Don Carlos
more from the love of adventure than from any other motive. He was a
fine athletic young fellow, with a handsome determined cast of features.
He had been an ensign in the 30th Foot, and had resigned his commission
to enjoy a spell of active service when the Franco-German war was
proclaimed. That he had behaved bravely in the campaign which led to
internment in Switzerland was evidenced by the ribbon of the Legion of
Honour which he wore. Leader was very anxious that an Anglo-Irish legion
in aid of Don Carlos should be organized. I felt it my duty to warn
those to whom he appealed to think twice before they embarked on such a
crusade. He was very wroth with me for having thrown cold water on the
project, but that did not affect me. I had more experience of such
follies than he, and my conscience approved me. A man may be justified
in playing with his own life, but he should be slow in playing with the
lives of others. He prepares a vexing responsibility for himself if he
is sensitive.

In the next room to Leader was a fellow-enthusiast, Mr. Smith Sheehan,
an ex-officer of Pontifical Zouaves, and son of a popular and eccentric
town-councillor of C