very well go without broth. Broth is an unpleasant beverage. I would give them a dose of spirits. In a little while they would be able to handle a gun. Well, sirs, the fiesta appears to be over for tonight. Let us take a nap for half an hour, and tomorrow—tomorrow, I have a notion that the French will make a formal attack upon us.”
He turned to his son, who had come up with me, and cried out—
“Oh, my Augustine, I have been asking for you, because in such a battle as today it happens that some must die. Are you wounded? You have nothing the matter? Let us see, a little gun-scratch? Ah, a trifle! It strikes me that you have scarcely borne yourself like a Montoria. And you, Araceli, have you lost any legs? Not even that! The two of you have just come out from some good shelter, I should say. You have not even turned a hair. It’s a bad business. I call you a pair of hens! Go, rest awhile, not more than a hand’s shake. If you feel yourselves attacked by the epidemic, rubbing and plenty of it is the best thing. Well, sirs, we depend upon it that tomorrow these houses will be defended wall by wall, partition by partition. The same thing will go on in every part of the city, and in every alcove there will be a battle. Let us go to the Captain-General, and see if Palafox agrees with us. There is no other way—either to deliver the city to them, or to dispute each brick as if it were a treasure. We will tire them out. Today six or eight thousand men have perished. Now let us go and see that most excellent Señor Don José. Good night, boys, and tomorrow try and manage to shake off your cowardice.”
“Let us go and sleep a little,” I said to my friend. “Let us come to a house where I have seen some mattresses.”
“I cannot sleep,” said Montoria, walking on along the Coso.
“I know where you are going. We are not permitted to go as far as that, Augustine.”