"This will be our headquarters for a day or two," the major said, as the
troop gathered round him; "there is an abundance of food for horse and
man, and we could stand a siege if necessary."

Warrener's Horse was the happiest of military bodies. On duty the
discipline was severe, and obedience prompt and ready. Off duty, there
was, as among the members of a regimental mess, no longer any marked
distinction of rank; all were officers and gentlemen, good fellows and
good comrades. The best house in the village was set aside for Major
Warrener, and the rest of the squadron dispersed in the village,
quartering themselves in parties of threes and fours among the cleanest-
looking of the huts. Eight men were at once put on sentry on the walls,
two on each side. Their horses were first looked to, fed and watered, and
soon the village assumed as quiet an aspect as if the sounds of war had
never been heard in the land. At dark all was life and animation. A dozen
great fires blazed in the little square in the center of the village, and
here the men fried their chickens, or, scraping out a quantity of red-hot
embers, baked their chupatties, with much laughter and noise.

Then there was comparative quiet, the sentries on the walls were trebled,
and outposts placed at a couple of hundred yards beyond the gates. Men
lighted their pipes and chatted round the fires, while Major Warrener and
a dozen of the oldest and most experienced of his comrades sat together
and discussed the best course to be pursued.




CHAPTER VIII.