CHAPTER XXXIII 



Villa Franca, May 19. 

 The day, which had been very rainy, cleared up towards 

 evening, and we rode across a plain to the north of Vitoria, 

 which we understood to be the battle-field. When we had 

 got across it, and were beginning to rise a little towards the 

 hills, a small village, called Arrayabe, was the scene of a 

 combat, — not so important to the destinies of Europe 

 perhaps, — but fraught with much more lively interest to 

 us than that which took place on the plain we were leaving 

 behind. 



I was riding about thirty yards ahead, doing all I could 

 to keep the limping and weary Moor to a brisk walk ; he 

 drooping his head and stumbling along as if every step were 

 to be his last. In the midst of the village we encountered 

 the enemy, which was no other than a stout, slashing cock- 



\ tail mare and her foal. 



\ The Moor at once forgot his languishing state, pricked 

 ip his ears, arched his neck, and shook his flowing mane. 

 Ke sounded the powerful clarion of his nostrils, and was 

 arewered by shriller notes of defiance in return. His 

 moive, probably no more than a polite ambition to make a 

 gallant show as he passed the presence of this sleek mother 

 of th° stud, was sadly misconstrued by the maternal sus- 

 picions of that prudent matron. 



She hastily made up her mind that the Moor's intentions 



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