Holkar sulkily sheathed his scimitar, and muttered, "'Tis better as it
is; had I killed him now, I had spared him the torture. None of this
shameless fooling, Puttee Rooge," continued the tyrant, dragging her
away. "Captain Gahagan dies three hours from hence." Puttee Rooge
gave one scream and fainted--her father and the Vizier carried her off
between them; nor was I loth to part with her, for, with all her love,
she was as ugly as the deuce.
They were gone--my fate was decided. I had but three hours more of life:
so I flung myself again on the sofa, and fell profoundly asleep. As it
may happen to any of my readers to be in the same situation, and to be
hanged themselves, let me earnestly entreat them to adopt this plan
of going to sleep, which I for my part have repeatedly found to be
successful. It saves unnecessary annoyance, it passes away a great deal
of unpleasant time, and it prepares one to meet like a man the coming
catastrophe.
*****
Three o'clock came: the sun was at this time making his appearance in
the heavens, and with it came the guards, who were appointed to conduct
me to the torture. I woke, rose, was carried out, and was set on the
very white donkey on which Loll Mahommed was conducted through the camp
after he was bastinadoed.
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