ve　dug　up　in　holes　and　corners；　and　I　will　give　them　in　logical　rather　than　chronological　order。　　First　of　all；　of　course；　our　authority　for　the　issue　and　event　of　the　battle　is　in　Olivier's　own　dispatches；　which　are　lucid　enough。　　He　was　entrenched　with　two　or　three　regiments　on　the　heights　that　swept　down　to　the　Black　River；　on　the　other　side　of　which　was　lower　and　more　marshy　ground。　　Beyond　this　again　was　gently　rising　country；　on　which　was　the　first　English　outpost；　supported　by　others　which　lay；　however；　considerably　in　its　rear。　　The　British　forces　as　a　whole　were　greatly　superior　in　numbers；　but　this　particular　regiment　was　just　far　enough　from　its　base　to　make　Olivier　consider　the　project　of　crossing　the　river　to　cut　it　off。　　By　sunset；　however；　he　had　decided　to　retain　his　own　position；　which　was　a　specially　strong　one。　　At　daybreak　next　morning　he　was　thunderstruck　to　see　that　this　stray　handful　of　English；　entirely　unsupported　from　their　rear；　had　flung　themselves　across　the　river；　half　by　a　bridge　to　the　right；　and　the　other　half　by　a　ford　higher　up；　and　were　massed　upon　the　marshy　bank　below　him。　　　　　〃That　they　should　attempt　an　attack　with　such　numbers　against　such　a　position　was　incredible　enough；　but　Olivier　noticed　something　yet　more　extraordinary。　　For　instead　of　attempting　to　seize　more　solid　ground；　this　mad　regiment；　having　put　the　river　in　its　rear　by　one　wild　charge；　did　nothing　more；　but　stuck　there　in　the　mire　like　flies　in　treacle。　　Needless　to　say；　the　Brazilians　blew　great　gaps　in　them　with　artillery；　which　they　could　only　return　with　spirited　but　lessening　rifle　fire。　　Yet　they　never　broke；　and　Olivier's　curt　account　ends　with　a　strong　tribute　of　admiration　for　the　mystic　valour　of　these　imbeciles。　　‘Our　line　then　advanced　finally；'　writes　Olivier；　‘and　drove　them　into　the　river；　we　captured　General　St。　Clare　himself　and　several　other　officers。　　The　colonel　and　the　major　had　both　fallen　in　the　battle。　I　cannot　resist　saying　that　few　finer　sights　can　have　been　seen　in　history　than　the　last　stand　of　this　extraordinary　regiment；　wounded　officers　picking　up　the　rifles　of　dead　soldiers；　and　the　general　himself　facing　us　on　horseback　bareheaded　and　with　a　broken　sword。'　On　what　happened　to　the　general　afterwards　Olivier　is　as　silent　as　Captain　Keith。〃　　　　　〃Well；〃　grunted　Flambeau；　〃get　on　to　the　next　bit　of　evidence。〃　　　　　〃The　next　evidence；〃　said　Father　Brown；　〃took　some　time　to　find；　but　it　will　not　take　long　to　tell。　　I　found　at　last　in　an　almshouse　down　in　the　Lincolnshire　Fens　an　old　soldier　who　not　only　was　wounded　at　the　Black　River；　but　had　actually　knelt　beside　the　colonel　of　the　regiment　when　he　died。　　This　latter　was　a　certain　Colonel　Clancy；　a　big　bull　of　an　Irishman；　and　it　would　seem　that　he　died　almost　as　much　of　rage　as　of　bullets。　　He；　at　any　rate；　was　not　responsible　for　that　ridiculous　raid；　it　must　have　been　imposed　on　him　by　the　general。　　His　last　edifying　words；　according　to　my　informant；　were　these：　‘And　there　goes　the　damned　old　donkey　with　the　end　of　his　sword　knocked　off。　　I　wish　it　was　his　head。'　　You　will　remark　that　everyone　seems　to　have　noticed　this　detail　about　the　broken　sword　blade；　though　most　people　regard　it　somewhat　more　reverently　than　did　the　late　Colonel　Clancy。　　And　now　for　the　third　fragment。〃　　　　　Their　path　through　the　woodland　began　to　go　upward；　and　the　speaker　paused　a　little　for　breath　before　he　went　on。　　Then　he　continued　in　the　same　business…like　tone：　　　　　〃Only　a　month　or　two　ago　a　certain　Brazilian　official　died　in　England；　having　quarrelled　with　Olivier　and　left　his　country。　　He　was　a　well…known　figure　both　here　and　on　the　Continent；　a　Spaniard　named　Espado；　I　knew　him　myself；　a　yellow…faced　old　dandy；　with　a　hooked　nose。　　For　various　private　reasons　I　had　permission　to　see　the　documents　he　had　left；　he　was　a　Catholic；　of　course；　and　I　had　been　with　him　towards　the　end。　　There　was　nothing　of　his　that　lit　up　any　corner　of　the　black　St。　Clare　business；　except　five　or　six　common　exercise　books　filled　with　the　diary　of　some　English　soldier。　　I　can　only　suppose　that　it　was　found　by　the　Brazilians　on　one　of　those　that　fell。　　Anyhow；　it　stopped　abruptly　the　night　before　the　battle。　　　　　〃But　the　account　of　that　last　day　in　the　poor　fellow's　life　was　certainly　worth　reading。　　I　have　it　on　me；　but　it's　too　dark　to　read　it　here；　and　I　will　give　you　a　resume。　　The　first　part　of　that　entry　is　full　of　jokes；　evidently　flung　about　among　the　men；　about　somebody　called　the　Vulture。　　It　does　not　seem　as　if　this　person；　whoever　he　was；　was　one　of　themselves；　nor　even　an　Englishman；　neither　is　he　exactly　spoken　of　as　one　of　the　enemy。　It　sounds　rather　as　if　he　were　some　local　go…between　and　non…combatant；　perhaps　a　guide　or　a　journalist。　　He　has　been　closeted　with　old　Colonel　Clancy；　but　is　more　often　seen　talking　to　the　major。　　Indeed；　the　major　is　somewhat　prominent　in　this　soldier's　narrative；　a　lean；　dark…haired　man；　apparently；　of　the　name　of　Murraya　north　of　Ireland　man　and　a　Puritan。　　There　are　continual　jests　about　the　contrast　between　this　Ulsterman's　austerity　and　the　conviviality　of　Colonel　Clancy。　　There　is　also　some　joke　about　the　Vulture　wearing　bright…coloured　clothes。　　　　　〃But　all　these　levities　are　scattered　by　what　may　well　be　called　the　note　of　a　bugle。　　Behind　the　English　camp　and　almost　parallel　to　the　river　ran　one　of　the　few　great　roads　of　that　district。　　Westward　the　road　curved　round　towards　the　river；　which　it　crossed　by　the　bridge　before　mentioned。　　To　the　east　the　road　swept　backwards　into　the　wilds；　and　some　two　miles　along　it　was　the　next　English　outpost。　　From　this　direction　there　came　along　the　road　that　evening　a　glitter　and　clatter　of　light　cavalry；　in　which　even　the　simple　diarist　could　recognise　with　astonishment　the　general　with　his　staff。　　He　rode　the　great　white　horse　which　you　have　seen　so　often　in　illustrated　papers　and　Academy　pictures；　and　you　may　be　sure　that　the　salute　they　gave　him　was　not　merely　ceremonial。　　He；　at　least；　wasted　no　time　on　ceremony；　but；　springing　from　the　saddle　immediately；　mixed　with　the　group　of　officers；　and　fell　into　emphatic　though　confidential　speech。　　What　struck　our　friend　the　diarist　most　was　his　special　disposition　to　discuss　matters　with　Major　Murray；　but；　indeed；　such　a　selection；　so　long　as　it　was　not　marked；　was　in　no　way　unnatural。　　The　two　men　were　made　for　sympathy；　they　were　men　who　‘read　their　Bibles'；　they　were　both　the　old　Evangelical　type　of　officer。　　However　this　may　be；　it　is　certain　that　when　the　general　mounted　again　he　was　still　talking　earnestly　to　Murray；　and　that　as　he　walked　his　horse　slowly　down　the　road　towards　the　river；　the　tall　Ulsterman　still　walked　by　his　bridle　rein　in　earnest　debate。　　The　soldiers　watched　the　two　until　they　vanished　behind　a　clump　of　trees　where　the　road　turned　towards　the　river。　　The　colonel　had　gone　back　to　his　tent；　and　the　men　to　their　pickets；　the　man　with　the　diary　lingered　for　another　four　minutes；　and　saw　a　marvellous　sight。　　　　　〃The　great　white　horse　which　had　marched　slowly　down　the　road；　as　it　had　marched　in　so　many　processions；　flew　back；　galloping　up　the　road　towards　them　as　if　it　were　mad　to　win　a　race。　　At　first　they　thought　it　had　run　away　with　the　man　on　its　back；　but　they　soon　saw　that　the　general；　a　fine　rider；　was　himself　urging　it　to　full　speed。　　Horse　and　man　swept　up　to　them　like　a　whirlwind；　and　then；　reining　up　the　reeling　charger；　the　general　turned　on　them　a　face　like　flame；　and　called　for　the　colonel　like　the　trumpet　that　wakes　the　dead。　　　　　〃I　conceive　that　all　the　earthquake　events　of　that　catastrophe　tumbled　on　top　of　each　other　rather　like　lumber　in　the　minds　of　men　such　as　our　friend　with　the　diary。　　With　the　dazed　excitement　of　a　dream；　they　found　themselves　fallingliterally　falling　into　their　ranks；　and　learned　that　an　attack　was　to　be　led　at　once　across　the　river。　　The　general　and　the　major；　it　was　said；　had　found　out　something　at　the　bridge；　and　there　was　only　just　time　to　strike　for　life。　　The　major　had　gone　back　at　once　to　call　up　the　reserve　along　the　road　behind；　it　was　doubtful　if　even　with　that　prompt　appeal　help　could　reach　them　in　time。　　But　they　must　pass　the　stream　that　night；　and　seize　the　heights　by　morning。　　It　is　with　the　very　stir　and　throb　of　that　romantic　nocturnal　march　that　the　diary　suddenly　ends。〃　　　　　Father　Brown　had　mounted　ahead；　for　the　woodland　path　grew　smaller；　steeper；　and　more　twisted；　till　they　felt　as　if　they　were　ascending　a　winding　staircase。　　The　priest's　voice　came　from　above　out　of　the　darkness。　　　　　〃There　was　one　other　little　and　enormous　thing。　　When　the　general　urged　them　to　their　chivalric　charge　he　half　drew　his　sword　from　the　scabbard；　and　then；　as　if　ashamed　of　such　melodrama；　thrust　it　back　again。　　The　sword　again；　you　see。〃　　　　　A　half…light　broke　through　the　network　of　boughs　above　them；　flinging　the　ghost　of　a　net　about　their　feet；　for　they　were　mounting　again　to　the　faint　luminosity　of　the　naked　night。　Flambeau　felt　truth　all　round　him　as　an　atmosphere；　but　not　as　an　idea。　　He　answered　with　bewildered　brain：　〃Well；　what's　the　matter　with　the　sword？　　Officers　generally　have　swords；　don't　they？〃　　　　　〃They　are　not　often　mentioned　in　modern　war；〃　said　the　other　dispassionately；　〃but