Send Me Safely Back Again Read Online Free PDF

everywhere, stealing and burning. There are the French, and their German and Italian lackeys. There are Portuguese soldiers on the borders of Leon. And now you British are back, after running away in the winter.’
    ‘We are allies, are we not?’ Hanley felt obliged to defend his countrymen.
    ‘Is that why you try to steal Cadiz?’
    ‘I understood that a force was sent to provide a strong garrison so that the city would be secure against any French attack.’ Soon after they had reached Lisbon, many of the regiments there had embarked on transport ships bound for Cadiz. It was felt that southern Spain would provide a more defensible base for operations than Portugal. ‘Is that not natural assistance from one ally to another?’
    ‘The French came first as allies. Now they have taken our country. Should we trust you?’
    ‘We are not Bonaparte.’
    ‘And he does not hold Gibraltar.’ Velarde’s quick retort was loud enough to draw attention.
    Wickham caught the name, and even if he missed the sense he could not help wondering at his fellow officer’s lack of tact in raising such a delicate subject. He held his reins tight, and made his chestnut step back until he was closer to Hanley.
    Before he could speak, there was a burst of heavy firing from over on the far left. The French held a low hill – the only feature of any note on the whole wide plain. They had a battery of guns there, backed by infantry, and the challenge of the salvoes was answered by guns and volleys from the Spanish line. From this distance it was hard to see what was happening, but it seemed that they were still making progress, because all the Spanish regiments in sight began to move forward once again. The Duke of Alburquerque ordered his own division to press on, and followed them with his staff. On their flank the lancers led the Spanish horsemen forward to keep pace.
    A single squadron of hussars was ahead of the French cavalry. Hanley could see their brown jackets and sky-blue trousers clearly.
    ‘They are the Chamborant Hussars,’ said Velarde, noticing the direction of his gaze. ‘Is it not curious that they call themselves by their old royalist name, preferring that to the plain number given to them under the Revolution?’ The confident assertion was no longer quite so surprising, and yet Hanley remained unsure of its purpose. For all Velarde’s vices – and he believed that they were many – he had never suspected the Spaniard of parading his accomplishments or knowledge merely for the sake of it. Presumably, he was hoping to gain something, but the Englishman could not guess at his goal. For the moment, he contented himself with observing the battle, since the other mystery showed no ready solution.
    For all his continuing bafflement at so much of the military way, Hanley was now just enough of a soldier to see that the enemy hussars were withdrawing skilfully. The same was true of the rest of the regiment, which lay in support, some two or three hundred yards behind. What was it Dobson had said – ‘not going back any quicker than they choose to’. They threw up so much dust that it was hard to see much behind the hussars, but Hanley thought that he glimpsed more cavalry.
    One rider stood out from the rest, and even from the gaudily uniformed ADCs surrounding him. Hanley wished that he had Williams’ telescope to study the man. Wickham had his own glass to his eye, and his attention was clearly drawn to the same man.
    ‘Wonder who that plucky fellow is?’ asked Wickham, in the same tone that he might use to remark on an elegant gentleman or lady promenading. ‘Cocked hat and green jacket, and great moustaches. And yes, I do believe that he is smoking a long pipe.’
    ‘That is Lasalle,’ said Velarde, in a voice of so little animation or feeling that it was all the more striking.
    ‘Can you be sure at this distance?’ asked Hanley. The Spanish officer was not even using a telescope.
    ‘No man who was at Medina de