I was running--running as the
brave stag before the hounds--running as I have done a great number of
times before in my life, when there was no help for it but a race.
After I had run about five hundred yards, I saw that I had gained nearly
three upon our column in front, and that likewise the Christino horsemen
were left behind some hundred yards more; with the exception of three,
who were fearfully near me. The first was an officer without a lance; he
had fired both his pistols at me, and was twenty yards in advance of his
comrades; there was a similar distance between the two lancers who
rode behind him. I determined then to wait for No. 1, and as he came
up delivered cut 3 at his horse's near leg--off it flew, and down, as I
expected, went horse and man. I had hardly time to pass my sword through
my prostrate enemy, when No. 2 was upon me. If I could but get that
fellow's horse, thought I, I am safe; and I executed at once the plan
which I hoped was to effect my rescue.
I had, as I said, left the podesta with Sheeny's portmanteau, and,
unwilling to part with some of the articles it contained--some shirts, a
bottle of whiskey, a few cakes of Windsor soap, &c. &c.,--I had carried
it thus far on my shoulders, but now was compelled to sacrifice it
malgre moi.
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