ceived- your commission. Properly speaking, yon are not yet a combatant; I have ceased to be one; and I think it arguable that we are just in the position of one ordinary gentleman to another, where friendship usually comes before the law. Observe, I only say arguable. For God's sake, don't think I wish to dictate an opinion. These are the sort of nasty little businesses, inseparable from war. which every gentleman must decide for himself. If I were in your place"
"Ay, what would you do, then ?" says he.
"Upon my word, I do not know," said I. "Hesitate, as you are doing, I believe."
"I will tell you," he said. "I have a kinsman, and it is what he would think, that I am thinking. It is General Graham of Lynedoch—Sir Thomas Graham. I scarcely know him, but I believe I admire him more than I do God."
"I admire him a good deal myself," said I, "and have good reason to. I have fought with him, been beaten, and run away. Veni, victus sum, evasi."
"What!" he cried. "You were at Barossa?"
"There and back, which many could not say," said I. "It was a pretty affair and a hot one, and the Spaniards behaved abominably, as they usually did in a pitched field; the Marshal Duke of Belluno made a fool of himself, and not for the first time; and your friend Sir Thomas had the best of it, so far as there was any best. He is a brave and ready officer."
"Now, then, you will understand!" said the boy. "I wish to please Sir Thomas: what would he do?"
"Well, I can tell you a story," said I, "a true one too, and about this very combat of Chiclaua, or Barossa as you call it. I was in the Eighth of the Line; we lost the eagle of the First Battalion, more betoken, but it cost you
