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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Perils of Certain English Prisoners"

However, they broke over it like swarms of devils--they
were, really and truly, more devils than men--and then it was hand to
hand, indeed.
We clubbed our muskets and laid about us; even then, those two
ladies--always behind me--were steady and ready with the arms. I had a
lot of Maltese and Malays upon me, and, but for a broadsword that Miss
Maryon's own hand put in mine, should have got my end from them. But,
was that all? No. I saw a heap of banded dark hair and a white dress
come thrice between me and them, under my own raised right arm, which
each time might have destroyed the wearer of the white dress; and each
time one of the lot went down, struck dead.
Drooce was armed with a broadsword, too, and did such things with it,
that there was a cry, in half-a-dozen languages, of "Kill that sergeant!"
as I knew, by the cry being raised in English, and taken up in other
tongues. I had received a severe cut across the left arm a few moments
before, and should have known nothing of it, except supposing that
somebody had struck me a smart blow, if I had not felt weak, and seen
myself covered with spouting blood, and, at the same instant of time,
seen Miss Maryon tearing her dress and binding it with Mrs.


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