Summary

The Romance of War; or, The Highlanders in France and Belgium…

The moon was now shining in all her silver splendour down the narrow dell, and the stars, gleaming in the studded firmament, like diamonds and rubies, sparkled as they do in the skies of Spain alone when the atmosphere is pure and calm. Stuart beheld the blade of Narvaez glancing in the moonlight, and never had he looked with such dread on a weapon as he did upon that deadly stiletto; yet he had never shrunk from a line of charged bayonets,—which, as the reader knows, he had faced fearlessly more than once: but it is another affair to be slaughtered like a lamb or a child.
Source: Gutenberg

The Romance of War; or, The Highlanders in France and Belgium…

When Ronald found himself helplessly and, as he thought, irrecoverably immured in the Torre de los Frayles, and surrounded by a band of the most merciless and desperate ruffians conceivable,—defenceless, in their power, and secluded among the wildest fastnesses of the Spanish Pyrenees, his heart sickened at the hopelessness of his prospects. His life depended entirely on the will and pleasure of his captors, and he felt all that acute agony of spirit of which a brave man is susceptible when reflecting that he might perish like a child in their hands, helpless and unrevenged.
Source: Gutenberg

The Romance of War; or, The Highlanders in France and Belgium…

Look you: hombre! the sky grows dark almost while we look upon it, and the clouds, in masses of black and red, descend on every side, like gloomy curtains, to shut out the sun from our view, and the wind, which blows against our faces, seems like the very breath of hell! Pooh! this is just such a night as one might expect to see our very good friend the devil abroad."
"He is no friend of mine, Señor Alosegui, although he may be a particular one of yours," said Ronald with a smile.
Source: Gutenberg

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