by daybreak. There are many vineyards in these parts which in
winter become open plains, and a horseman finds few difficulties
in his way.

But Massena had underrated the cunning of these English, for it
appears that there was not one line of defence but three, and it
was the third, which was the most formidable, through which I was
at that instant passing. As I rode, elated at my own success, a
lantern flashed suddenly before me, and I saw the glint of
polished gun-barrels and the gleam of a red coat.

"Who goes there?" cried a voice--such a voice! I swerved to the
right and rode like a madman, but a dozen squirts of fire came
out of the darkness, and the bullets whizzed all round my ears.
That was no new sound to me, my friends, though I will not talk
like a foolish conscript and say that I have ever liked it. But
at least it had never kept me from thinking clearly, and so I
knew that there was nothing for it but to gallop hard and try my
luck elsewhere. I rode round the English picket, and then, as I
heard nothing more of them, I concluded rightly that I had at
last come through their defences.

For five miles I rode south, striking a tinder from time to time
to look at my pocket compass. And then in an instant-- I feel
the pang once more as my memory brings back the moment--my horse,
without a sob or staggers fell stone-dead beneath me!

I had never known it, but one of the bullets from that infernal
picket had passed through his body. The gallant creature had
never winced nor weakened, but had gone while life was in him.