st; the
Spaniard declined to admit you in his so-considered interest. To take
the mountain-route was tedious, and in the case of Barbarossa not to be
thought of; the bridge of Endarlasa was broken--a most contorted
specimen of artistic dilapidation. To be sure, one could manage to creep
to the other side by the submerged coping of the parapet, if endowed
with the balancing powers of a rope-walker and the lustihood of the
navvy. But Barbarossa was not a Blondin, and had not a physical
constitution proof against a wetting. I had got across that bridge
once, holding on by my teeth and nails, and retained recollection of it
in a fit of the cold shivers; but I did not care to repeat the
operation. In our dilemma, Barbarossa, who was a plucky knave, hit upon
the plan which ought to have commended itself to us at first.

"Let us stray up the river-bank a few hundred yards," he said, "seize a
boat, and row ourselves across."

No sooner was the proposition made than it was adopted; but we were
saved from the ephemeral disgrace of posing as petty amphibious pirates,
degenerate Schinderhannes of the Bidassoa. We saw a boat; a girl was
near. The boat was her father's; she engaged to take us over for a
consideration--I am certain she had set her heart on a string of
straw-coloured ribbons and a sky-blue feather in a shop-window in
Hendaye--and to await our return at nightfall. We arranged the signal,
and stealthily stole across, drifting diagonally most of the way; and I
entrusted the speculative French damsel with my revolver and my Carlist
pass, and paid her a farewell compliment on her face and figure as I
stepped ashore. Giving her the revolver and pass enlisted her
confidence. We strolled along with apparent carelessness, entered a
posada on the road by the waterside and had refreshments. I said I
should feel much obliged if they could let us have a trap to Irun and
back, as we had business there, and my friend was tired and not much of
a pedestrian. An open carriage was provided, and off we drove by the
skirt of the hill of St. Marcial, where the Spaniards gave Soult such a
dressing in 1813, passed a series of outer defences with their covering
and working parties, and entered one of the gates of the town, and never
a question was asked. Ditches had been dug round the place and
earthworks thrown up; but the principal reliance of the garrison seemed
to be in loophooled breastworks made of sand-bags superimposed. Here and
ther