As, moreover, most of the men I met had served in the Peninsular war, we had quite enough to talk about without touching on topics whose discussion might have been incompatible with good fellowship.
When, at a late hour, I turned into the hammock provided for me by Guzman, it required an effort to realize that I was a prisoner.

Why, I asked myself, had Griscelli, who was never known to spare a prisoner, whose face was both cruel and false, and who could bear me no good-will--why had this man treated me so courteously?
Did he really mean to let me go, and if so, why; or was the promise made to the ear merely to be broken to the hope?
"Perhaps to-morrow will show," I thought, as I fell asleep; and I was not far out, for the day after did.

Guzman, whose room I shared, wakened me long before daylight.
"The bugle has sounded the reveille, and the troops are mustering on the plaza," he said.

"You had better rise and dress.

The general has sent word that you are to go with us, and our horses are in the _patio_." I got up at once, and after drinking a hasty cup of coffee, we mounted and joined Griscelli and his staff.
The troops were already under arms, and a few minutes later we marched, our departure being so timed, as I heard the general observe to one of his aides-de-camp, that we might reach the neighborhood of the rebel camp shortly before sunrise.