"Afraid of the damp," muttered Pen to himself; and then he smiled up in the face of the fiercer-looking of the two goat-herds as the man placed a cake of coa.r.s.e-looking bread in his hands and afterwards turned out from the bag a couple of large onions, to which he added a small bullock's horn whose opening was stopped with a ball of goatskin.

"_Bueno, bueno_!" said Pen, taking the food which was offered to him with the grave courtesy of a gentleman; and, not to be outdone, he took the hand that gave and lightly raised it to his lips. The act of courtesy seemed to melt all chilling reserve, and the two men hurried to throw some heather-like twigs upon the fire, which began to burn up brightly, emitting a pleasant aromatic smoke. Then, seating themselves, the more fierce-looking of the pair pointed to the bread and held up the jar so that they could drink.

"_Amigos, amigos_!" he said softly; and he took the jar in turn, drank to the lads, and gravely set it down between them; and then as Pen broke bread Punch started violently, for each of the men drew out his knife, and the boy's hand was stretched out towards the muskets, but withdrawn directly as he realised the meaning of the unsheathed knives, each of the goat-herds s.n.a.t.c.hing up one of the onions and beginning to peel it for the guests, before hastening to stick the point of his knife into the vegetable and hand both to their visitors.

"They scared me," said Punch. "I say, don't the onions smell good!

Want a bit of salt, though."

He had hardly said the word before the taller of the two men caught up the horn, drew out the ball-like wad which closed it up, and revealed within a reddish-looking powder which glistened in the light of the fire and proved to be rock-salt.

It was a very rough and humble meal, but Punch expressed his companion's feelings when he said it was 'lishus.

"Worth coming for--eh, Punch?" said Pen, "and risking the wolves."

"Here, I say, drop that, comrade. Don't be hard on a fellow. One can't help having one's feelings. But I say, you looked half-scared too when these two Spaniards whipped out their knives."

"I was more than half, Punch. But it was the same with them; they looked startled enough when we came upon them suddenly with our muskets and woke them out of sleep."

"Yes; they thought we was Frenchies till you showed them we was friends."

It was a rough but savoury meal, and wonderfully picturesque too, for the fire burned up briskly, shedding a bright light upon their hosts in their rough goatskin clothes, as they sat looking on as if pleased and amused at Punch's voracity, while now the herd of goats that had scampered away into the darkness recovered from their panic and came slowly back one by one, to form a circle round the fire, where they stood, long-horned, s.h.a.ggy, and full-bearded, looking in the half-light like so many satyrs of the cla.s.sic times, blinking their eyes and watching the little feast as if awaiting their time to be invited to join in.

"I say," said Pen suddenly, "that was very thoughtful and right of you, Punch, to cover over the muskets; but you had better put your jacket on again. These puffs of air that come down from the mountains blow very cold; when the fire flames up it seems to burn one cheek, while the wind blows on the other and feels quite icy. There's no chance of any damp making the locks rusty. Put on your jacket, lad; put on your jacket."

"That I don't," said the boy, in a half-whisper. "Who thought anything about dew or damp?"

"Why, you did."

"Not likely, with the guns so close to the fire. Did you think I meant that?"

"Why, of course."

"Nonsense! I didn't want these Spaniels to take notice of them."

"I don't understand you, Punch."

"Why, didn't you tell them we was English?"

"Of course."

"And at the same time," said Punch, "put a couple of French muskets down before them, and us with French belts and cartridge-boxes on us all the time?"

"Oh, they wouldn't have noticed that."

"I don't know," said Punch. "These are rough-looking chaps, but they are not fools; and the French have knocked them about so that they hate them and feel ready to give them the knife at the slightest chance."

"Well, there's no harm in being particular, Punch; but I don't think they will doubt us."

"Well, I don't doubt them," said Punch. "What a jolly supper! I feel just like a new man. But won't it be a pity to leave here and go on the march again? You know, I can't help it, comrade; I shall begin thinking about the wolves again as soon as we start off into the darkness.

Hadn't we better lie down here and go to sleep till daylight?"

"I don't know," said Pen thoughtfully. "These men have been very friendly to us, but we are quite strangers, and if they doubt our being what we said ours would be a very awkward position if we went off to sleep. Could you go off to sleep and trust them?"

"Deal sooner trust them than the wolves, comrade," said Punch, yawning violently, an act which was so infectious that it made his companion yawn too.

"How tiresome!" he exclaimed, "You make me sleepy, and if we don't jump up and start at once we shall never get off."

"Well then, don't," said Punch appealingly. "Let's risk it, comrade.

These two wouldn't be such brutes as to use their knives on us when we were asleep. Look here! What do they mean now?"

For the two goat-herds came and patted them on the shoulders and signed to them to get up and follow.

"Why, they want us to go along with them, comrade," said the boy, picking up the two muskets.

"Here, ketch hold, in case they mean mischief. Why, they don't want to take us into the dark so that the goats shouldn't see the murder, do they?"

"I am going to do what you suggested, Punch," replied Pen, "risk it,"

and he followed their two hosts to the rough-looking stone shelter which kept off the wind and reflected the warmth of the fire.

Here they drew out a couple of tightly rolled-up skin-rugs, and made signs that the lads should take them. No words were spoken, the men's intention was plainly enough expressed; and a very short time afterwards each lad was lying down in the angle of the rough wall, snugly rolled in his skin-rug, with a French musket for companion; and to both it seemed as if only a few minutes had elapsed before they were gazing across a beautiful valley where mists were rising, wreath after wreath of half-transparent vapour, shot with many colours by the rays of the rising sun.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

BOOTS OR BOOTY?

"There, Punch," said Pen, rising; "you didn't dream, did you, that our friends crept up with their knives in the night to make an end of you?"

"No," cried the boy excitedly, as he turned to gaze after the men, who were some little distance away amongst the goats, "I didn't dream it.

It was real. First one of them and then the other did come with his knife in his hand; but I c.o.c.ked my musket, and they sneaked off again and pretended that they wanted to see to the fire."

"And what then?" said Pen.

"Well, there wasn't no what then," replied the boy, "and I must have gone to sleep."

"That was all a dream, I believe, Punch; and I suppose you had another dream or two about the wolves?"

"Yes, that was a dream. Yes, it must have been. No, it was more a bit of fancy, for I half-woke up and saw the fire shining on a whole drove of the savage beasts; but I soon made out that they weren't wolves, because wolves don't have horns. So it was the goats. I say, look here. Those two chaps have been milking. They don't mean it for us, do they?"

The coming of the two goat-herds soon proved that they were hospitably bent, and the lads agreed between themselves that there were far worse breakfasts than black-bread cake and warm goat's-milk.

This ended, a difficult task had to be mastered, and that was to try and obtain information such as would enable the two questioners to learn the whereabouts of the British troops.

But it proved to be easier than might have been supposed.

To Pen's surprise he learned all he wanted by the use of three words--_soldado, Frances_, and _Ingles_--with the addition of a good deal of gesticulation.