I then perceived that
these people were peasants, who were loading two waggons with
empty wine- casks. I failed to see how they could either help or
hinder me, so I continued upon my way.
But soon I understood that my task was not so simple as had
appeared. As the ground rose the vineyards ceased, and I came
upon a stretch of open country studded with low hills. Crouching
in a ditch I examined them with a glass, and I very soon
perceived that there was a watcher upon every one of them, and
that these people had a line of pickets and outposts thrown
forward exactly like our own. I had heard of the discipline
which was practised by this scoundrel whom they called "The
Smiler," and this, no doubt, was an example of it.
Between the hills there was a cordon of sentries, and though I
worked some distance round to the flank I still found myself
faced by the enemy. It was a puzzle what to do.
There was so little cover that a rat could hardly cross without
being seen. Of course, it would be easy enough to slip through
at night, as I had done with the English at Torres Vedras, but I
was still far from the mountain and I could not in that case
reach it in time to light the midnight beacon.
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