I restored the lieutenant to his natural erect position: I poured half a
bottle of whiskey down the immensely enlarged orifice of his mouth, and
when he had been released, he informed me of the circumstances that had
taken place.
Fool that I was! idiot!--upon my return to the fort, to have been
anxious about my personal appearance, and to have spent a couple
of hours in removing the artificial blackening from my beard and
complexion, instead of going to examine my prisoner--when his escape
would have been prevented. O foppery, foppery!--it was that cursed love
of personal appearance which had led me to forget my duty to my general,
my country, my monarch, and my own honor!
Thus it was that the escape took place:--My own fellow of the
Irregulars, whom I had summoned to dress me, performed the operation to
my satisfaction, invested me with the elegant uniform of my corps, and
removed the Pitan's disguise, which I had taken from the back of the
prostrate Bobbachy Bahawder. What did the rogue do next?--Why, he
carried back the dress to the Bobbachy--he put it, once more, on its
right owner; he and his infernal black companions (who had been won over
by the Bobbachy with promises of enormous reward), gagged Macgillicuddy,
who was going the rounds, and then marched with the Indian coolly up to
the outer gate, and gave the word.
Pages:
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315