column, and laid everybody low,—­Santa Anna and the rest of them.  Some fanatics rushed to the end of the mole in spite of this, to try and shoot the admiral point blank, and he was in great danger.  His coxswain and the midshipman on duty, Halna Dufretay (an admiral and a senator when he died), covered him with their own bodies and were both severely wounded.  His secretary, who was with him, and who carried a double-barrelled rifle, killed two Mexicans in two shots.  A great friend of mine was killed there too, a charming young fellow who had a great future before him—­Chaptal, a first-class cadet.  It was known that I was much attached to him and I was given his aiguillettes (which I sent to his family) as a remembrance of him.  When I got back to the Creole, bringing two of my midshipmen, Magnier de Maisonneuve and Gervais, with me, both severely wounded, the admiral sent me orders to fire a shell into the “la Merced” barracks every five minutes.  This closed the day of my baptism of fire.  The military operations of the campaign were over.  The fort of Saint Juan d’Ulloa remained in our hands in pledge.  It was the diplomats’ business to complete the work.  The admiral dismissed the greater number of his ships and soon sent me off to Havana, which place I did not reach without falling in with two of those violent squalls which are called norte in the Gulf of Mexico.  I was to lie there on the watch, ready to attack privateers if the Mexican Government should resort to that form of warfare—­the fleetness of the Creole fitting her specially for such service.  Meanwhile my visit was very pleasant to me, after the horrors of Sacrificio and the yellow fever.  The commander of an English corvette, the Satellite, gave a dinner to M. de Parseval, two other captains and myself, which was so cordial that towards dessert one of the captains, who shall be nameless, passed his hand gently across his brow and, murmuring “I don’t feel very well,” sank straightway underneath the table.  We took him by the legs and shoulders, Parseval and the English captain and I, but Parseval and the Englishman laughed so much that we had some trouble in getting him to a bed, on which we laid him and where he slept till morning.  I know not whether it was for this wound and feat of arms that his native town raised a statue in his honour.

Of course I sought and found all my former Havanese acquaintances.  One alone was invisible, the lady of the cigarette.  In vain I placed myself night after night before her box.  Nobody there!  In vain I paid visits to houses I knew she frequented.  The covers were all blank.  I was sorely grieved.  So then I bethought me of a stratagem.  The Creole set sail hurriedly, with much bustle, to go and look for a Mexican ship, reported, so they said, to be at sea.  As soon as the day closed in I made all sail for the port, and leaving my second officer in command, with orders to pick me up at four o’clock next morning at a certain distance and in a certain