The Spanish Bride

8

The centre column, of which the Light division formed the rear-guard, had orders to encamp on the farther side of the Huebra, but when the rest of the column, jumping down the steep bank into the swollen river, had struggled safely across, a considerable body of French infantry appeared behind the squadrons of dragoons who had been Dickering with the Light division all day. This changed the complexion of things rather seriously, and Harry lost no time in sending Juana forward, with strict orders to stay with the 52nd regiment, who were to move into bivouac while the Riflemen held the bed of the river.

Knowing that Harry would remain with the Riflemen, Juana showed him a white face, pathetically small under the big, dripping hat-brim. Words seemed to be strangled in her throat; she wanted to cling to him, to hold him fast; but of course she knew she must not do that. She managed to say: ‘Take care of yourself!’

He nodded, and patted her check. ‘Of course I will. Cheer up, hija! I’ll be with you presently!’ He wheeled his horse, and rode off in a spatter of mud. Juana found the Padre nervously begging her to make haste, and said grandly: ‘Do not be afraid! We shall be quite safe with the 52nd. How surprised they will be to see me, all our friends in the regiment!’ The Padre seemed to think this remark irrelevant, but the prospect of surprising her friends made Juana feel more cheerful; and she rode on at a smart pace, coming up with the regiment just as it was about to ford the river.

She had the satisfaction of encountering two of Harry’s friends, Major Rowan on the Quartermaster-General’s staff, and Captain Mein; and although neither of them betrayed much surprise at her having joined the regiment, both greeted her with real, if hurried, kindness.

‘Hallo, Juanita! Did Harry send you on?’ Rowan said. ‘That’s right! we’ll take care of you. Stick close to the column, there’s a good girl: wish I could take you under my wing, but you know how it is!’

‘Of course I know, and I don’t want to be under your wing!’ said Juana. ‘Go and attend to your dudes! I have West, and I have also Don Pedro.”

‘What a good duty-officer you’d make, Mrs Smith!’ grinned Rowan. Billy Mein teased her about a splash of mud on her cheek; he asked her, too, sotto voce, where in thunder Harry’s confessor had found his enormous cloak, which made her giggle. But he could not remain with her for more than a few minutes, because he had his company to attend to.

With the French infantry pressing the rear, there was no time to be lost in crossing the Huebra. At this season of the year, it was a wild-looking river, swirling beneath such steep banks that the soldiers, instead of climbing down, jumped into the fast waters. The Padre, watching with a good deal of misgiving, said: ‘But how shall we cross?’ West, always close to his mistress, smiled rather grimly, for he did not much like the Padre. Juana said: ‘I’ll show you!’ and rode Tiny straight for the bank.

‘Lord ha’ mercy!’ ejaculated West. ‘Missus, missus, wait!’

He had been attaching various small goods and chattels firmly to the saddle of Harry’s spare horse, which he was leading, and before he could do more than scramble into his saddle again, Tiny, pausing for an instant on the brink, had leaped into the river. Without paying the least heed to the unfortunate Padre, West went after Juana, led-horse and all. By the time he had forced both horses into the river Tiny was half-way across, swimming strongly, with Juana still in the saddle, though drenched to the skin. She reached the farther bank safely, and a dozen eager hands were ready to seize Tiny’s bridle, and haul him out of the river.

‘Juana, you bad child!’ cried little Digby. ‘Whatever would Harry say?’ ‘Bien hecho!’ Juana replied, sparkling with laughter.

‘I suppose he would,’ Digby admitted. ‘But what’s to be done now? You’re soaked, and here’s the regiment ordered to move downstream to watch the San Munoz ford!’ ‘Oh, do not concern yourself! I will come too, because Enrique said I was to stay with you, and so I shall. Only where is the poor Padre?’

The Padre, bravely emulating Juana’s dashing exploit, had made his pony jump into the river, but had got into serious difficulties. The pony, scarcely up to his weight, was carried away, by the current. Juana could not help laughing to see Don Pedro swept downstream, with his huge cloak blown out like a sail behind him, but it soon ceased to be a laughing matter. Unable either to make headway against the current, or to continue swimming with the Padre on his back, the pony was drowned, and only his preposterous cloak, which kept him afloat, saved the Padre from suffering a like fate.

‘Oh, Bob, pull him out!’ begged Juana, trying hard not to laugh.

‘Can’t the fellow swim?’ asked Digby. ‘What in the world possessed you two crazy people to saddle yourselves with him? Look, some of our men have got hold of him! Here, you, West! Look after your mistress, will you? I must get on.’

‘Adios! Tell Billy Mein I have no longer any mud on my face!’ said Juana. The Padre, dragged out of the river farther down stream, was looking a good deal shaken when Juana and West rode up to him. Juana had wrung some of the wet out of her habit, but the Padre stood shivering on the bank in a large puddle. Water dripped from the brim of his sombrero, from the hem of his cloak and even from the tip of his nose. When Juana said how sorry she was for his misfortune, he answered between chattering teeth that he had not dreamt that the retreat would be like this. He asked West if he could mount the spare horse, but West replied woodenly: ‘Never lend master’s other fighting horse; not to nobody.’ ‘But you must lend it to me!’ said the Padre indignantly. ‘How shall I do without a horse? Do you wish me to fall into the hands of the French, you wretched fellow?’ ‘We shan’t march far,’ replied West “The river bothered us, and it will stop the French. Our Riflemen don’t mean to let those fellows over. The walk will warm you.’ ‘Señora!’ exclaimed the Padre, trembling as much from wrath as from cold. ‘Do you hear? Will you permit this outrage?’

Juana looked doubtful. ‘But you see, it is my husband’s spare horse, and if Old Chap were hit he would instantly require it. Only, since he is on the other side of the river-Could he have the horse, West? Just for this once?’

‘Can’t lend master’s horse, missus,’ said West obstinately.

‘Well, then, I am so very sorry, but I am afraid you will have to walk,’ said Juana, tempering the words with one of her persuasive smiles. ‘And please, could you start to walk now, because if we do not remain with the 52nd my husband will not know where to find us!’ ‘But Señor Smith assured me we should bivouac immediately! Where are we going? Why do the soldiers march downstream?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Juana cheerfully. ‘It is always like that in the army, which is what makes it so exciting.’

The Padre did not look as though he cared for such excitement, but he squeezed some of the water out of his cloak, and began to plod along beside Juana’s horse. The ford of San Munoz was far down the river, and when they reached it they at once saw why the regiment had been ordered there. The French were trying to force a crossing. It proved to be impassable, but almost before she was aware Juana found herself in the middle of a hail of shot. A shell plunged feet deep in the mud quite close to her, making Tiny shy so violently that she was nearly unseated, and something whether a musket-ball, or a fragment of grape-shot she knew not, whistled over her head. She dismounted in a hurry, but just as West was shouting at her above all the commotion to come with him out of range, a private was struck, and fell almost at her feet. Down she plumped on her knees to see what she could do for him. It so happened that he was not very badly wounded, and she was able to make a bandage for him, and to help him to the rear. Then Captain Dawson was killed, and quite a number of men wounded, and there was no time to think about the danger she was in, for she had naturally to help the wounded men. It was horrible seeing Captain Dawson killed; she thought she was going to be sick, and so very sensibly turned her eyes away from his body, and began to tie the Padre’s handkerchief round the brow of a boy who was bleeding from a gash in his forehead caused by a flying fragment of case-shot. Major Rowan caught sight of her, and exclaimed: ‘Good God, you here? Get to the rear, you foolish child, get to the rear!’

But since he had no time to spare in enforcing his command, Juana stayed where she was. Captain Dawson’s body had been carried away; no one else seemed to have been killed; and the French fire was already slackening. The rain was coming down in sheets, but as she was already soaked to the skin with river-water, that, she said, did not signify in the least. It was a draggled little wife whom Harry found half an hour later, seated beside the Padre on the ground, and hugging her knees. Harry had been sent to recall the 52nd, and was thunderstruck to discover that Juana had been in the thick of the skirmish. ‘My darling!’ he cried, flinging himself out of the saddle. ‘Queridissima! Oh, mi pobrecita, how wet you are!’ ‘Enrique!’ Juana squeaked joyfully. ‘Oh, how glad I am to see you safe!” ‘I?’ he said. ‘I’m safe enough, but you, dearest? What the dickens have you been about?’ ‘Oh, I have had such adventures! I made Tiny swim across the river, and the poor Padre’s pony was drowned, but not him, and we have had a battle!’

He was holding her by the shoulders, and gave her a little loving shake. ‘You varmint, Juana! Come, I must get you to the bivouac quickly! What a drowned rat of a wife!’ He tossed her up into her saddle, and put the bridle into her cold hand. The Padre said: ‘But how shall I go? I do not think I can walk, and I have certainly caught a chill.’

‘Oh, take my spare horse!’ Harry said over his shoulder.