Читать книгу Prisoners of War in Britain 1756 to 1815. A record of their lives, their romance and their sufferings онлайн

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‘“Wretch!” he cried with a resounding voice. “This hand which has done for so many Bretons shall not henceforth frighten a child!”

‘In fact, the hand of the Breton had gripped the negro’s with such force that the blood sprang from its fingers.

‘“Stop! stop!” cried the black in his agony. But Robert was pitiless, and did not loosen his grasp until the giant was on his knees before him.’

An enthusiastic burst of cheering rose from the French prisoner spectators, and, to cut the story short, the Colonel handed Robert Lange the twenty guineas, and was obliged to apologize to the gay company assembled to see the triumph of the negro, for the unexpected and brief character of the entertainment.

Then he called his big Danish hound and prepared to embark. But the dog did not appear and could not be found. Somebody said he had last been seen going into the battery. Captain R—— started, and his face reddened deeply. ‘Then—then,’ he stammered. ‘If your dog has got into the battery, you will never see him again!’