On reaching the gate Captain Cranfield stepped forward to the head of
the party, and entered zealously on his duties as _cicerone_. He led
them through the spacious barracks, in which the scanty garrison
seemed buried in monastic seclusion; through the huge store-houses and
bomb-proof kitchens and bakeries; showed them the vast tank containing
water for a full garrison for a year; and what was better, a natural
spring, welling out mysteriously within the circuit of the works. From
the ramparts of this huge coronet that crowned the head of this
eminence, he pointed out the strength of the position, the efficiency
of the works, and their importance to the safety of Elvas. From this
stronghold, with the works of the city and Fort St. Lucia on the other
side of it, lying before them, Cranfield discoursed at length on his
art, dealing largely in its technical terms: bastions, and curtains,
covered ways, scarps and counter scarps, with ravelins thrown out in
front of them, until Mrs. Shortridge, who listened with open-mouthed
admiration, got so confused that she imagined that a ravelin was some
kind of missile to be hurled at the French. Dona Carlotta and the
other Portuguese ladies were not so attentive, not understanding the
language of the lecturer, and feeling less interest in the defence of
their country than in the attentions of the foreign officers, who were
devoting themselves to their special service. But Lady Mabel, who
prided herself on being a soldier's daughter, lent a willing ear to
Cranfield, asked many questions, and even contrived to understand much
that he had to say.

L'Isle now thought that the engineer had held the first place in Lady
Mabel's attention long enough; so he broke in upon his eulogy on this
inland Gibraltar, the master-piece of "_o gran Conde de Lippe_."