ndise. These artless bales were packages of
breechloaders, with bayonets to match, wrapped in sail-cloth. As soon
as they were received on shore they were distributed amongst some
thousands of Carlists in waiting, who at once proceeded to fix bayonets,
fall into ranks, and with shouts of exultation march off in good order.

Meanwhile, the "volunteers of liberty," as the Basque Republicans called
themselves, ensconced their persons out of range in a sort of castle
beside the church of Fontarabia's "wooded height," and amused themselves
taking pot-shots at the rising sun. But they did not venture from their
shelter; they knew a large body of armed Royalists were watching their
movements from the summit of Cape Higuer, and only awaited the provoke
to pounce down upon and swallow them. A detachment of Frenchmen from the
frontier hamlet of Hendaye quietly took up ground on the strand to see
that there was no breach of neutrality, and had an uninterrupted view of
the whole operation. As soon as the daring little privateer had done her
work she innocently steamed to Socoa; the Carlists on the hills waved
adieu and disappeared; the French soldiers returned to their quarters;
and the Fontarabian "volunteers of liberty "--well, most probably they
swore terribly, and effected a masterly retrograde movement on the
nearest posada.

I had a call to board the _San Margarita_. Not a boat could be had in
St. Jean de Luz for love or money; the passage from the sea into the
harbour is narrow, and the fishermen, though hardy navigators, are shy
of facing the current when the sea is rough. Leader and myself walked by
the goat-path on the crags leading to the southern side of the harbour
so as to avoid the bar, and succeeded in chartering a skiff at Socoa. A
quarter of an hour's pull brought us alongside the yacht, and on sending
up our cards we were at once invited on board by the owner. To my
surprise I discovered that the entire crew was British, as reckless a
set of dare-devils as ever cut out a craft from under an enemy's guns.
The skipper, Mr. Travers, was a Cork man, an ex-officer of the Indian
Navy, who had lost a finger during the Mutiny; but the life and soul of
the enterprise was an ex-officer of the Austrian and Mexican armies,
Charles-Edward Stuart, Count d'Albanie, great-grandson of "the Young
Pretender." His uncle, John Sobieski Stuart, had resigned his claim to
the throne of England on his behalf,[C] so that I actually shook