CHAPTER XIV.
THE VISIT.
Mike's performances at the masquerade had doubtless been of the most distinguished character, and demanded a compensating period of repose, for he did not make his appearance the entire morning.

Towards noon, however, the door from the garden gently opened, and I heard a step upon the stone terrace, and something which sounded to my ears like the clank of a sabre.
I lifted my head, and saw Fred Power beside me.
I shall spare my readers the recital of my friend, which, however, more full and explanatory of past events, contained in reality little more than Mickey Free had already told me.

In fine, he informed me that our army, by a succession of retreating movements, had deserted the northern provinces, and now occupied the intrenched lines of Torres Vedras.

That Massena, with a powerful force, was still in march, reinforcements daily pouring in upon him, and every expectation pointing to the probability that he would attempt to storm our position.
"The wise-heads," remarked Power, "talk of our speedy embarkation, the sanguine and the hot-brained rave of a great victory and the retreat of Massena; but I was up at headquarters last week with despatches, and saw Lord Wellington myself." "Well, what did you make out?
Did he drop any hint of his own views ?" "Faith, I can't say he did.

He asked me some questions about the troops just landed; he spoke a little of the commissary department, damned the blankets, said that green forage was bad food for the artillery horses, sent me an English paper to read about the O.P.riots, and said the harriers would throw off about six o'clock, and that he hoped to see me at dinner." I could not restrain a laugh at Power's catalogue of his lordship's topics.
"So," said I, "he at least does not take any gloomy views of our present situation." "Who can tell what he thinks?
He's ready to fight if fighting will do anything, and to retreat, if that be better.