“Since we have not the luck to be in Las Mónicas,” said Pirli to me, “we will, today, give ourselves the pleasure of defending until death the four walls of Saint Augustine. As the Estremadurans are not sufficient to defend it, we are ordered in, too. And how about rank, friend Araceli? Is it true that we two young gentlemen have been promoted to be sergeants?”
“I don’t know anything about it, friend Pirli,” I answered; and it was true that I was ignorant of my elevation to the hierarchical altitude of a sergeant.
“Yes, indeed, the general says so; Señor de Araceli is first sergeant, and Señor de Pirli is second sergeant. We have worked hard enough for it. It’s a good thing we have enough of our bodies left to hang the epaulets on. I heard that Augustine Montoria has been made a lieutenant for his gallantry inside the houses. Yesterday, at nightfall, the battalion of Las Peñas de San Pedro was reduced to four sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain, and two hundred men.”
“Let us see, friend Pirli, if we cannot earn two more promotions apiece today.”
“All that we have to do is to keep our skins whole,” he answered. “The few soldiers of the Huesca battalion who survive think that they are all going to be made generals. There is the call! Have you anything to eat?”
“Not much.”
“Manuela Sancho gave me four sardines. I will divide them with you. How would you like a dozen of these roasted peas? Do you remember how wine tastes? I ask, because it is so many days since they have given us a drop. They will give us a spoonful when the battle of San Augustine is over. Here you are! It would be too bad if they should finish us off before we know what color the stuff is which they are going to pass around