“It is very desirable to keep up the distinction between the two professions,” said Bradshawe.  “One has a strong tendency to slide into the other.  Pray, tell me what arguments you have been using with my lord.”

L’Isle, with an effort at calmness, repeated the substance of the late conversation, much to Bradshawe’s amusement; for in him a genuine love of mischief rivaled his epicurean tastes.

“On one point, my lord had the advantage of you,” said Bradshawe.  “It is his privilege to bid you look after your regiment; not yours to bid him look after his brigade.”

“True,” said L’Isle, bitterly.  “But as you, though my senior, are not my commander, I trust there is no insubordination in my telling you that the brigade is left to look after itself, and is going to the devil as fast as it can.”

“As individuals,” said Bradshawe, “that is the probable destination of most of us.”

“We will have to get Julian Sanchez, or the Empecinado, or some other guerilla chief, to undertake its reformation,” continued L’Isle, in great heat.  “I forgot to suggest to my lord, that before we march away, we ought to levy a contribution, as a bounty for the blessings we bestow on the neighborhood in leaving it.”

“A capital idea,” said Bradshawe, “but by no means original.  The French always do so when they change their cantonments; that is, if there be any thing left in the country around.  If our hands were not tied, we might yet learn some clever arts from Monsieur.  Junot’s system was to drive up all the farm cattle of the neighborhood just before he marched off; then allow them to be redeemed at a low cash price.  He found it a capital way to extract the last hidden crusado.”

“You have mastered the enemy’s system thoroughly,” said L’Isle, with a sneer.  “But as our hands are tied, we cannot imitate them.  Perhaps it would better become your position in the brigade, for you to try and rouse his lordship to the necessity of checking the license that is growing daily.”

“I would gladly do so,” said Bradshawe; “but being no Oxford logician, have not your irresistible power of convincing him.  You have handled the matter so fully and ably, that I need only repeat faithfully every word you have said.  You may depend upon me for that.”  And, turning his horse, he rode gently off toward headquarters, while L’Isle galloped up the hill to Elvas.

Bradshawe found Lord Strathern in as great a rage as the comrade he had just parted with; so he amused himself with drawing out from his lordship a recital of their late conversation, which he repaid with a sketch of L’Isle’s roadside conference with himself.  The old soldier was only the more provoked on finding that, freely as L’Isle had spoken, he could hardly charge him with insubordination, or twist his hot arguments into a personal insult.  Soothing and chafing him by turns, Bradshawe did not permit the subject to drop until they were interrupted by a courier with despatches.