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THE red sun was setting
amidst a sea of light floating clouds, which displayed a thousand blending
shades of purple, saffron, and gold, shedding the same warm hues on the
scenery around Merida, tinging every object of the beautiful landscape,
through which, meandering between dark green groves of the orange and
olive, wound the slowly rolling and broad-bosomed Guadiana, seeming like a
flood of lucid gold, in which the objects on its sides were reflected
downwards, the changing sky above and the black round arches of the noble
bridge all appearing inverted in the bosom of the stream, as on the
surface of a polished mirror.
The dark shadows of the neighbouring mountain
were falling across the plain and the city, rendering yet darker the
gloomy and antique streets, where all was still confusion and dismay, and
from which the chant of the ecclesiastics, and the deep ding-dong of the
tolling bells, were borne on the wind towards them, mingled with the
shouts of the advancing cavalry, who came on in a clamorous style truly
French. Suddenly the
dark mass emerged from among the trees which had concealed their approach,
and galloped across the bridge some hundred in number, with accoutrements
glittering, plumes waving, and the tricoloured pennons fluttering from the
heads of their lofty lances.
'Now, then,' exclaimed Ronald, as the last
file disappeared from the bridge, 'we must strain every nerve to gain the
wood of La Nava. A party of these lancers may be sent forward to scour the
roads, and we are very far from safe yet.'
'Courage, senor: 'tis but a couple of leagues
or so from hence, and I am well assured that no patrol will they send out
while there is a single wine-house unsacked in Merida.'
'Cast away your knapsack, Evan: you will get
another when we rejoin. It is an encumbrance to you, so toss it away. Let
us but gain the shelter of the wood, and we will there await, in safety,
the arrival of our own troops, as they pass en route for Portugal.'
Evan took his knapsack by the straps, and cast
it into a deep pool by the wayside, saying it was better 'A' should gang
that gate, than fa' into the hands o' uncanny folk.'
About eight miles from Merida they met Lazaro
Gomez, the brother of Pedro, and a party of muleteers of Catalonia, halted
at a fountain which babbled through an iron pipe fixed into the rock, from
which the water gushed, and fell into a little pebbled basin. Near it
stood an ancient stone cross, marking the tomb of one of Don Alvaro's
ancestors, who reposed here in unconsecrated ground. In the course of
centuries it had sunk deep into the earth ; but on the upper part yet
appeared the time-worn and half-obliterated inscription :
AQUI YACE
EL NOBLE CABALLERO D. JUAN DE VILLA TRANCA,
.... MUERTOS .... BATALLA ANO D. 1128.
RUEGUEN A DIOS FOR EL.
This fountain and ancient tomb had been the
object of many an evening ride with Catalina, who related the history of
Don Juan, a romance which I may give to the public at some future time.
Ronald paid but little attention to either the cross or brook, but
advanced towards the jovial muleteers, who were smoking paper cigars of
their own manufacture laughing, singing, and drinking aguardiente to
wash down their repast of bread, onions, and bacallao, oil and lettuce,
which was spread on the sward by the side of the fountain; around which,
cropping the herbage, wandered their mules, from whose harness jingled a
thousand little tinkling bells. On the approach of the British officer the
frank fellows sprung to their feet with one accord, and held their
brimming horns towards him, while he was greeted with many vivas and
sweeps of their sombreros.
'Senor cavalier, I am glad you have escaped
our enemies by means of the intelligence I brought to Merida,' said Lazaro
Gomez, the master-muleteer, a short, thickset fellow, with a round
bullet-head and good-humoured face, containing that roguish sort of
expression which is always given by artists to the features of Sancho
Panza. He was tanned to the colour of mahogany by continual exposure to
the sun, and his chin displayed a short stunted black beard, and slovenly
ill-trimmed moustache.
'I am much obliged to you indeed, Master
Lazaro; and I would that it was in my power to reward you.'
'Mention not reward, I beg
of you, senor cavalier,' replied Lazaro, making another sweep with his
sombrero. Ronald answered by a grave bow. He had become too much
accustomed to the appellation of 'cavalier,' and the pompous politeness of
the Spaniards, even to smile when he was addressed in a style that would
pass better with the renowned Cid, Rodrigo of Bivar, than Ronald Stuart of
the Gordon Highlanders. 'But you must condescend to drink with us, senor,'
said a muleteer. 'My horn is filled with the best aguardiente.'
'Viva el Rey!' said Ronald, in a complimentary
tone, as he emptied the cup.
'Viva el Rey!' cried the others, draining
their liquor to the dregs. 'Evan,' observed Ronald, 'you will relish this
beverage; 'tis somewhat like our own mountain dew at home.'
'It smells o' the peat reek, sir,' said Evan,
snuffing with his nose over the horn which Lazaro had given him. 'Sour
water, I declare! perfect fushionless water,' said the young Highlandman,
after he had drunk it all off, however. 'Meeserable trash! O'd, sir, I
wadna gie a gill stoup fu' o' what Alpin Oig used to brew wi the sma'
still in the hole at Coir-nan Taischatrin, for a loch fu' o' this
agyerdent, as ye ca' it'.
'How is this, Lazaro?' asked Pedro, observing
that Evan disliked the liquor. 'Have you nothing else but muddy
aguardiente to offer to honest soldiers? Come, my jovial brother, broach
us one of those bloated pigskins, which are piled on the backs of your
mules there.'
'Our Lady del Pilar! a
modest request,' replied Lazaro. 'Why, brother Pedro, bethink you. I
cannot touch the burdens of my cattle they are the property of others.
Could I broach a skin, our best would be at the service of the noble
cavalier. And as for our aguardiente, I avouch, by the head of his
Holiness ! that better never came out of Catalonia.'
'I may pretend to be a judge,' said the
soldier, 'as I have drunk some thousand flasks of it; and avouch, in
return, 'tis muddy as the Tajo in a shower, and only fit for a Portuguese
or a dog to drink!'
'Never mind, Lazaro; your aguardiente is most excellent,' observed Ronald,
seating himself by the gushing fountain, and partaking of the bread and
bacallao, or dried cod-fish, which composed their simple fare. 'Your mules
seem heavily laden: how far do you mean to travel to-night?' As far as the
first posada on the road to Majorga.' 'What do your cattle carry in these
large packages? 'Oh! senor, many things ; principally flour, rice, corn,
pulse, and wine and oil in skins. These commodities we have brought from
the centre of Catalonia and Arragon, and are carrying to the frontiers of
Portugal, to sell among the British troops. We hope to find a good market
at the camp before Ciudad Rodrigo, in the kingdom of Leon.'
'Catalonia and Arragon, did you say? How !
These provinces are in possession of the French troops!'
'True, senor; but we muleteers have ways of
our own, by which we evade the out-pickets and foraging parties of the
enemy.' 'Such
as------' 'Travelling
fast all night, and concealing ourselves closely all day and a hundred
other modes. Senor, we would evade Satan himself, did he lay snares for
us. We muleteers are cunning fellows!' 'You speak truly,' observed Pedro.
'A Spanish muleteer is a strange being, and one that is as wily and active
as a serpent; but they are happy fellows, I assure you, senor, and like no
other men that I know of. A muleteer makes his home everywhere, because he
is for ever wandering over all wide Spain. Cracking his whip and his joke,
he travels with a light heart over our long dusty plains, and through the
deep passes of the lofty hills and sierras, singing merrily to the jingle
of his mules' bells, stopping only to smack his wine-horn or the lips of
the peasant-girls, whom he loves almost as well as his mules only
almost, senor, because he loves his mules better than himself. He gives
them fine names; he scolds, talks, kisses, and sings to them, to cheer
them by the way; and at the posada or the bivouac he provides for their
wants before he looks after his own. Caramba! were I not a soldier, I
would certainly become a jolly muleteer. He is a droll fellow indeed
soft-hearted and hard-headed, but always honest, and true as the sun,
senor.' 'You have
made a most excellent panegyric upon them, Pedro,' remarked Ronald, when
the soldier had stopped to take breath, and the shout of laughter which
his observations called forth from the muleteers had subsided. 'Our Lady
del Pilar ! good, good ! Well said, Pedro; you deserve another horn for
that,' cried the master-muleteer. 'But if it please you, draw some
distinction between us and the muleteers of Valencia, who are none of the
best in fact, the veriest rogues in all Spain. They would cheat the holy
Virgin herself, were she to traffic with them. But talking of rogues,
senor, if you would travel with us to Majorga, we should be proud of the
honour of your company, and in truth you may find some advantage in ours.'
'Why so, Master Lazaro?
'The ruinous chapel of Santa Lucia, in the
cork-forest yonder, has become the haunt of some desperadoes for this week
past fellows who are very unscrupulous whom they attack or encounter,
and with us, who are all stout and honest men, and well armed to boot,'
every man had a trabuco or blunderbuss with a brass bell-muzzle slung
across his back 'you will be in greater safety. Our escort is not to be
despised in these perilous times.'
'I thank you for your offer and advice; but as
I mean to await in this neighbourhood the arrival of our troops, it would
not suit me to travel so far westward as Majorga, and so I care not to
take my chance of encountering the thieves in the wood yonder. My Highland
follower will, of course, stand by me; and Pedro will, I suppose,
likewise.' 'May I be
blasted by a curse if I do not, senor!' The muleteers clapped their hands
in applause. 'Are the
rogues numerous?' asked Ronald.
'Three or four, senor; but stoutly-armed
desperadoes, and led by a regular demon, long well known as a frontier
guerilla, whose only delight was slaughter and war to the knife! A fellow
that could eat fire, as the proverb says, and upon whom lead and steel
were alike ineffectual.'
'We will put him to the test, if he crosses
our path. I never heard of a hide yet, unless covered by steel, that was
proof against the point of a claymore. Three or four, did you say? We are
but three; but then we are soldiers, you know, and are alone worth a dozen
such as these fellows you speak of. But what has caused a gallant guerilla
to turn robber?'
'Why, senor, 'tis a long story; and we had it yesterday from a poor
muleteer of Codeciera, whom the villains rifled of his mules and every
maravedi in his pouch the devil confound them for it!'
'Well, and this guerilla------'
'Kept a wine-house in Albuquerque; but for
some attempt to assassinate the famous cavalier Don Alvaro de Villa
Franca, his goods were confiscated to King Ferdinand by the corregidor's
order. On finding himself a penniless outlaw, he took his musket and
dagger, and turned bandit keeping himself in the desert places of the
forest of Albuquerque and the Sierra de Montanches for some weeks past.
Now he has begun to collect followers, and has stationed himself in the
wood of La Nava, rendering its neighbourhood anything but a safe one.'
'Go on, Lazaro,' said Ronald eagerly; 'his
name is------'
'Narvaez Cifuentes a fellow I never much liked, although I have emptied
some thousand horns at his casa. But what is the matter, noble senor;
surely I have not offended you?'
Ronald's eyes sparkled with stern delight, and
true Highland fury swelled within his breast, at the intelligence that
Cifuentes was so near; and his wild reckless spirit and love of adventure
made him instantly resolve to search the wood and confront his hated
enemy, at all risks and hazards.
'Evan Evan! the daring wretch who attempted
to assassinate me is lurking among the dingles of the wood yonder. I will
seek him out and take vengeance on him, or perish. He has but three armed
villains with him: you will, of course, follow me?'
'Sir, I wadna be my faither's son, if I didna
follow whare'er ye led the way,' replied Evan testily. 'The venture's no'
what I would just like; folk shouldna tempt danger or Providence, but
follow ye I will as long as I can draw breath; and, troth, I would amaist
gie up my hope o' salvation, to hae but a chance at the infernal riever wi'
my firelock!' To
Pedro and the muleteer, who were surprised at his sudden excitement,
Ronald related all he knew of Cifuentes; and during the narrative he was
interrupted by many an indignant 'carajo' and malediction on the
wine-seller. When he had finished, the muleteers declared with one voice,
that if they had not their mules to attend to, they would have followed
him into the wood and assisted him to attack the haunt of the robbers
among the ruins, and to kill or capture his enemy; but Pedro, animated by
the natural daring of a Spaniard, and as a soldier of Spain considering it
his duty to follow Ronald as an officer of the allies, he at once
volunteered frankly to attend him in his rash undertaking.
The evening had begun to deepen into the
darker shadows of night; and the pale evening star, twinkling amidst the
blushing blaze of the western sky, had risen above the wood of La Nava,
when the sturdy muleteers, collecting their beasts of burden, moved off
with much noise, jollity, and cracking of whips, in the direction of the
place where they meant to pass the night. Ronald bade them farewell, and,
followed by his two soldiers, left the fountain, making straight for the
cork-forest, the dark foliage of which lay involved in 'a brown horror'
before them. It was a
clear and beautiful moonlight night when they reached the skirts of the
wood, whence, on looking back, they beheld a red light, which spread over
the sky, rising in the direction of Merida, telling that the French were
at their old work pillage and ruthless devastation. Stuart trembled for
the safety of the fair friends he had left behind, and earnestly trusted
that the Count d'Erlon's letter would protect them from insult or outrage.
'Braw wark at Merida this bonnie nicht, sir,'
observed Evan, giving a last look to the rear ere they plunged into the
recesses of the forest. 'My certie! the very lift seems a' in a low, the
clouds are red wi' streaks o' fire; and here's Pedro, puir gomeril! he is
like to gang clean daftat the sicht o't.'
'You would not be in a very pleasant humour
yourself, Evan, were you to see the clachan of Strathfillan, or the "fair
city" of Perth blazing by the hands of invaders; and Jessie Cavers,
perhaps ay, even your Jessie carried off like a stricken deer across
the saddle-bow of a French dragoon.'
'Sic waefu' things will never happen at hame
in auld Scotland, God be praised fort ! never, sir, while oor men are made
o' the stuff they are ; the broad-sword has bent, but it has not yet
broken! But it's unco droll to hear how Pedro, puir chield, havers to
himsel.' Unaware of
how he was listened to, Pedro Gomez ground his teeth with ill-concealed
rage, while he invoked the curses of San Juan, San Geronimo, and a hundred
others, not forgetting our Holy Lady of Majorga, on the enemy. This
vituperation appeared to give him a deal of comfort; and thus consoling
himself, he led them on towards the ruins of Santa Lucia, by a pathway
with which he was well acquainted. It was so narrow that only one could
pass at a time, and so much intersected, crossed, and barred by brambles,
bushes, and foliage, that they had infinite trouble in proceeding at all.
It led them into a deeper and denser part of the forest, the dewy branches
of which were now in full foliage; the waving leaves were glittering in a
thousand hues and shades of green, as the pale moonbeams fell on them,
streaming in a gush of silver light on the glistening grass, or down the
dark dingles, as they pushed aside the heavy branches in their progress,
tearing the nets of silvery gauze which many a busy spider was weaving
from tree to tree in the merry moonlight.
'For ony sake, Pedro, haud your wheesht, man!'
exclaimed the Scottish soldier impatiently; 'it's enough to mak' a body
eerie to hear ye growling and yammering that gate, in siccan a dismal
place as this. O'd sir, I never heard ony ane blatter sic words, exceptin'
the auld lawyer body at Almen-drelauchy, when Angus Mackie and mysel had a
fecht wi' him. Would ye like to hear that story, sir ? he added, turning
to his master. 'No,
not at present,' was the reply; 'we must move in silence, else 'tis
useless to move at all. Look well to your flint and priming, and keep your
lock clear of bushes. Should a musket be discharged, it would alarm the
thieves, on whom I wish to steal unperceived, if possible.' Ronald
repeated these injunctions in the Spanish language, as indeed he had to do
most of his observations, and they now advanced in perfect silence,
following the intricate windings of the narrow track, which in former days
had been a well-beaten road to the sequestered chapel of the forest, the
fame of whose relicario drew, in ancient times, scores of devout pilgrims
at certain seasons. As the pathway was now more open, Ronald took the
lead. It was
certainly a rash and daring attempt to enter thus a wood, every pass of
which was unknown to them, and at night, on such an errand, to search for
so formidable a desperado as Narvaez Cifuentes, a name which is yet a
bugbear to the children of Estremadura, and used by their mothers to
frighten them to sleep; more especially as the number of his followers was
doubtful, and it was only certain that they would all be equally desperate
and ferocious as himself. But Ronald's bold blood was up, and his
eagerness to take vengeance upon him for the recent wound that his hand
had inflicted, and the pain and suffering which that wound had caused,
rendered him blind to what might be the probable consequences.
Alice's desertion of him for a higher-born and
more wealthy lover had rendered him careless of life, prompt to encounter
and utterly regardless of any danger, which was proved by the cold
insensibility with which he conducted himself during his duel with the
condι. The native spirit of daring which exists in the bosom of every
mountaineer, and which he possessed in no slight degree, likewise spurred
him on; and thinking not of the rash manner in which he was perilling his
own life and the lives of his friends, he continued to penetrate
resolutely into the most gloomy part of the wood.
'Eh! gude guide us! what is that, sir?
exclaimed Iverach, charging his musket breast high, while he started back
in dismay as some huge animal arose from its lair, upon which they had
encroached, and dashing furiously past them, swept through the forest
glade like a tempest.
'What an awfu' like beast to meet in siccan
eerie a place!' 'Many
such have we shot at home on the green braes of Strathonan and side of
Benmore. Is it possible that you knew not what it was?
Evan was abashed, and trod on without
replying, while he was sadly incommoded by the rough brambles and stunted
bushes, which tore his bare legs, where left uncovered by the tartan kilt
and gartered hose.
'Senor,' said Pedro, ' what a noble deer it was that rushed past Us just
now!' 'Ay, faith !
and a splendid mark for a single ball at a range of forty yards or so; but
I am surprised to find it here in a cork-forest.'
'It must have come down from the Sierra de
Montanches, for there, and among the high mountains of Guadalupe, many
thousands of gallant deer and the dark-brown roe-buck rove about in
freedom.' Their
attention was now attracted by a strange noise, which seemed to approach
them in front: it was a series of sounds, in tones something between the
snorting growl of some wild animal and the squeaking of young swine.
Ronald, who had never heard such noises before, was very much surprised,
and kept his hand on the hilt of his sword; but poor Evan's nerves were
sadly discomposed, and he felt every hair on his scalp bristling under his
bonnet, as the dismal remembrance of the many awful beings who peopled
the. Coirnan Taischatrin, and every thicket and corrie about Lochisla,
rushed upon his mind. All the stories he had heard of the dreadful
water-horse that dwelt in the castle loch (and which his father, the
piper, beheld one clear moonlight night floating on the surface of the
placid water, as he was returning from a dredgie), of the little fairies
who lived under the green holms of Corrieavon, and the yet more terrible
white woman who haunted the black muir of Strathonan and howled to the
wind the livelong night, all crowded horribly upon his memory, and the
perspiration burst forth from every pore, as something like a legion of
flying devils swept tumultuously past them, and plunging into the
underwood disappeared, squeaking, growling, and tearing the bushes to
fragments in their wild career.
'Pedro! What are all these, in the devil's
name? cried Ronald, starting back and half unsheathing his weapon.
'Only a herd of wild swine, senor,' replied
Pedro, with a laugh. 'Demonios, one fellow has given a stroke with his
tusk in passing, which I little like!
'Twas only a drove of wild pigs,' said Ronald.
'Cheer up, Evan; surely you were not frightened? Yet you seem very pale in
the moonlight.'
'Frightened, said ye, sir? replied, or rather asked, Evan indignantly, but
feeling considerably reassured the while 'frightened! the deil a bit,
sir. But I never got sic a start in a' my born days syne the nicht the
howlet gied me a flaff wi' its wing, when we took Maister Macquirk ower to
the ruins on the Kirk-inch. Ye'll mind o'd, sir; he was living wi' the
auld laird for a day or twa at the tower, and we rowed him ower the loch
in the boat, to gie a look o' the bonnie ruins in the moonlicht.'
'Macquirk!' reiterated Ronald, the name
recalling a disagreeable passage in his father's letter.
'Ay, sir, Maister Macquirk, a pleasant
smooth-spoken gentleman, as a' Edinburgh writer-folk are. Eh! God be wi'
us, sir! what's this noo? Mair wild pigs, I declare!' cried he in
considerable trepidation.
'Pshaw! Evan. Your father, old Donald, has
made a complete old wife of you, by his horrible legends and stories.'
'It's no for me, sir, to But its just a
temptin' of Providence to be-----'
'Hush! 'tis only the barking of dogs. Tread
softly, and keep close under the darkest shadows of the foliage.'
'There is a man yonder, senor, evidently a
sentinel,' whispered Pedro in a low voice.
'Where?' asked Ronald as they halted.
'About thirty paces off.'
'Under the dark tree?'
'Ay, senor, the moon shines full upon him.'
'Keep close in the gloom; he sees us now, I
think.' The figure of
a man armed with a long musket appeared clearly as the bright radiance of
the moon streamed down the narrow path, glittering on the butts of his
pistols and hilt of the poniard stuck in the worsted sash which was
twisted round his waist. He wore a long slouched cap, which hung down his
back, and various tassels, ribbons, and gewgaws of gold lace that adorned
his short velvet jacket glimmered in the moonlight.
'Quien vive?' challenged he, like a Spanish
sentinel, while he stooped his ear towards the ground, listening intently
for a few seconds. He appeared to have heard something. It was Evan's feet
rustling among the last year's leaves. The robber stood erect, and cocked
his musket while he looked forward into the gloom, a passing cloud having
obscured the face of the moon.
'Carajo! Quien vive? Amigos enemigos?' he
repeated, the sonorous tones of his voice re-echoing in the dingles of the
wood, and arousing the fierce growling of some dogs near at hand.
'This is one of the villains, senor, bedecked
in all his ill-gotten finery.''
'We must despatch him,' answered Ronald in a
fierce whisper, his natural impetuosity becoming roused; 'we must rid
ourselves of him, but how?
'Quietly, senor, leave him to me. Every man
lost to the enemy is one gained to us, so says Murillo, and he------'
'Pshaw! never mind Murillo. This fellow must
be settled warily, if we would steal upon the rest. What would you advise?
He certainly hears us, and should he fire in this direction, one of us may
be knocked on the head. I will rush on him, and disarm or cut him down in
a twinkling. 'Nay,
noble senor; his outcry would be as mischievous as the discharge of his
musket; the ruins of the chapel are close at hand, remember. Leave him to
me,' was Pedro's answer, while he coolly displayed the blade of a long
Spanish knife, which flashed as he drew it, and, gliding from Ronald's
side, advanced softly towards the brigand under the shadow of the trees.
The challenge of the bandit again sounded
through the lonely wood.
'Cuidado, amigos mios; cuidado?' he added in a
voice of taunt and warning, but evidently while he was uncertain whether
or not anyone had approached his post. He drew his thumb-nail cautiously
across the sharp edge of his flint, he raised his musket to his shoulder,
and was about to fire in the direction of the place where Ronald and Evan
stood concealed. Another second would perhaps have sealed the fate of one
of them, when the stiletto of the dragoon glittered near him in the pale
moonlight, a heavy blow was given, and a deep groan succeeded; the
robber fell dying upon the sward, while his musket only flashed in the
pan, and fell rattling from his grasp without doing damage. Ronald rushed
towards the spot, and found the bloodthirsty sargento wiping his deadly
weapon with scrupulous accuracy, while he kept his foot upon the yet warm
though breathless corpse of the man he had destroyed. The light of the
moon fell with a cold and ghastly lustre on the pale and rigid, yet very
fine features of the dead man, becoming contracted and fierce with the
recent death-struggle. His white and upturned eyes shone with a terrible
glare as the moonbeams fell on them, and altogether there was something
sad and appalling in the sudden manner in which this desperado had been
hurled into eternity, with all his unrepented and manifold sins upon his
head. 'Awfu' work
this, sir!' said Evan, with a shudder, while he surveyed the stark and
bold features of the slain, around whom a black pool formed by his blood
lay increasing. 'A dour-looking chield he is, wi' a gloom on his brow that
would suit Rob Roy himsel.'
'I would to Heaven, Gomez,' observed the
equally-excited Stuart, 'you had found some other mode of silencing him
than this; there is somewhat in it at which I revolt.'
The Spaniard laughed grimly.
'Senor,' said he, 'the man was only a robber;
and when old Murillo gets hold of such he hangs them by scores at a time,
and I have seen a stout beech bending under a load of such devil's fruit.
Pho! senor, it matters not. We are now close upon the ruins of the chapel,
and the villains who harbour there have some formidable allies mastiff
dogs. I hear them growling, and I assure you, senor, that a demon may be
as easily dealt with as a Spanish hound. You will require all your
resolution and energy to------'
'I do not mean to relinquish the search, after
having proceeded so far,' replied Ronald, interrupting the Spaniard, at
whose tone he felt a little piqued. 'I assure you, Sargento Gomez, 'tis
not the sight of a little blood that will make the heart of Scottish
Highlander fail.' 'I
meant not to offend, senor; but let us proceed. The ruins of Santa Lucia
are some twenty yards from this.'
'Forward, then, lead on.'
Ronald in passing possessed himself of the
dead man's loaded musket and well-filled pouch of ball cartridges, an
acquisition on which he had soon reason to congratulate himself. |
