But, when they heard
that the means of my salvation from the lance of the scoundrelly
Christino had been the Magazine containing my own history, their laugh
was changed into wonder. I read them (speaking Spanish more fluently
than English) every word of my story. "But how is this?" said Cabrera.
"You surely have other adventures to relate?"
"Excellent Sir," said I, "I have;" and that very evening, as we sat over
our cups of tertullia (sangaree), I continued my narrative in nearly the
following words:--
"I left off in the very middle of the battle of Delhi, which ended, as
everybody knows, in the complete triumph of the British arms. But
who gained the battle? Lord Lake is called Viscount Lake of Delhi and
Laswaree, while Major Gaha--nonsense, never mind HIM, never mind the
charge he executed when, sabre in hand, he leaped the six-foot wall in
the mouth of the roaring cannon, over the heads of the gleaming pikes;
when, with one hand seizing the sacred peishcush, or fish--which was the
banner always borne before Scindiah,--he, with his good sword, cut off
the trunk of the famous white elephant, which, shrieking with agony,
plunged madly into the Mahratta ranks, followed by his giant brethren,
tossing, like chaff before the wind, the affrighted kitmatgars.
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