the manner in which they have turned out."

Scarcely had the troops left the town when the French cavalry poured in.
Now that it was too late, the sense of danger penetrated the brains of the
revellers, and the mob of disbanded Spanish and British soldiers and
camp-followers poured out from the cellars. Few of the soldiers had the
sense even to bring up their muskets. Most of those who did so were too
drunk to use them, and the French troopers rode through the mob, sabring
them right and left, and trampling them under foot, and then, riding
forward without a pause, set out in pursuit of the retiring columns. As
they came clattering along the road the colonel ordered the last two
companies to halt, and when the head of the squadron was within fifty
yards of them, and the troopers were beginning to check their horses, a
heavy volley was poured in, which sent them to the right-about as fast as
they had come, and emptied a score of saddles. Then the two companies
formed fours again, and went on at the double until they reached the rear
of the column.

All day the French cavalry menaced the retreat, until Lord Paget came back
with a regiment of hussars and drove them back in confusion, pursuing them
a couple of miles, with the view of discovering whether they were followed
by infantry. Such, however, was not the case, and the column was not
further molested until they reached Cacabolos, where they were halted. The
rest of the army had moved on, the troops committing excesses similar to
those that had taken place at Bembibre, and plundering the shops and
houses.

The division marched over a deep stream crossed by a stone bridge, and
took up their ground on a lofty ridge, the ascent being broken by
vineyards and stone walls. Four hundred men of the rifles and as many