Bobbachy Bahawder rode behind me, restored to
his rank and state; troops of cavalry hemmed us in on all sides; my ass
was conducted by the common executioner: a crier went forward, shouting
out, "Make way for the destroyer of the faithful--he goes to bear the
punishment of his crimes." We came to the fatal plain: it was the very
spot whence I had borne away the elephant, and in full sight of the
fort. I looked towards it. Thank heaven! King George's banner waved on
it still--a crowd were gathered on the walls--the men, the dastards
who had deserted me--and women, too. Among the latter I thought I
distinguished ONE who--O gods! the thought turned me sick--I trembled
and looked pale for the first time.
"He trembles! he turns pale," shouted out Bobbachy Bahawder, ferociously
exulting over his conquered enemy.
"Dog!" shouted I--(I was sitting with my head to the donkey's tail, and
so looked the Bobbachy full in the face)--"not so pale as you looked
when I felled you with this arm--not so pale as your women looked when
I entered your harem!" Completely chop-fallen, the Indian ruffian was
silent: at any rate, I had done for HIM.
We arrived at the place of execution. A stake, a couple of feet thick
and eight high, was driven in the grass: round the stake, about seven
feet from the ground, was an iron ring, to which were attached two
fetters; in these my wrists were placed.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334