quarter though the ferocious Spaniards denied it— but by the Chapelgorries, a Christino regiment, sworn to slay every Carlist they could lay hands on, in battle or out of it.

The attack on the second line-up still steeper and more difficult hills-was very much of the same nature as had been that on the first. Success and repulse alternated as the God of battles ruled. Now the tide. of the fight swayed one way, now another; in one hour the English seemed to have gained their goal, in the next they were hurled back on their reserves. In the heat of the strife Catline and Blunt frequently got separated; but somehow they contrived to be reunited again before long. At last the sailor-captain looked round in vain for his protégé; he could not possibly go back for him, and gave him up for lost. But the regiment was again driven back, and in recrossing the old ground, the Captain perceived Blunt sitting up, or reclining rather, against the sloping back of a sand-hole, pale as death itself, but yet smiling as he recognised his friend. He had been shot through the shoulder, and was unable to rise from the hole into which he had fallen.

"For God's sake, carry the boy to the rear !" shouted Catline, through the din of battle to a couple of the flank men of his own company. They ran down into

the hollow at once, raised Blunt, who moaned from weakness, and bore him away down to the plain outside San Sebastian, out of range of musketry.

On a plateau there were assembled a number of the inhabitants who had come out to see the battle-so important to their individual interests-from a safe distance. Amongst them were some ladies and gentlemen who made themselves most charitably conspicuous by their attention to the wounded who were borne back from the field. They helped the surgeons, of whom there were very few, to bind up the wounds of these unfortunate men; they arranged couches and field-beds as well as the means at their command would allow; they produced ample stores of brandy, wine, fruit, lemonade, etc., to strengthen the feeble or cool the parching lips of the feverish; and they wrote down the last sad messages for home dictated by the gasping lips of the dying. Amongst these kind people was John Blunt borne, and hastily laid on the sand by his two bearers, who, after calling attention to his wound, hurried back to rejoin the regiment.

A Basque woman darted out of the crowd as soon as she recognised him, and rapidly cut away the coat from over the wounded shoulder, while she entreated a lady standing near to fetch wine, and pray the

attendance of a surgeon. Startled by the woman's energy, the lady set about these tasks with speed; in a moment or two she returned with a small flask of brandy, and an intimation that the surgeon would be on the spot almost directly. The woman forced some brandy through the lips of the lad as he lay in a dead-faint on the ground, paused awhile, and then poured some more; in a few seconds he opened his eyes; consciousness gradually returned; and in his attendant he readily recognised the farm proprietress of San Lorenzo, and his informant of the previous day. In a very short time he was able to sit up and thank his kind attendants-the faint had been the effect of increased pain from the rapid rate at which he had been hurried out of the fight-and by the time the surgeon came to dress his wound he felt almost himself again. The bullet had gone right through, but had done no material injury, while the high spirit and courage of the recipient caused him to feel the consequences far less than would have been the case with one less brave. Food and wine were given him judiciously after the wound had been dressed, so that at the end of a couple of hours, he implored his kind-hearted nurses to leave him and render their services to some of the immense crowd of wounded men who were momentarily being brought in.

H