Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Napoleonic Wars, 1800-1815 -- Fiction
"I tell you before all your officers that I am Captain Keene, of the
Circe frigate, belonging to His Britannic Majesty, and no spy; if you
choose to shoot me now, I leave my death to be revenged by my country."
At this moment an officer in naval uniform stepped forward and looked me
in the face.
"General Moraud," said he, "what that officer says is true: he is
Captain Keene, and I was prisoner on board of his vessel; and I also
know the other man as well."
"Captain Vangilt, I do not request your interference," replied the
general.
"But general, as an officer in the marine of the emperor, it is my duty
to state to you, that you are deceived, and that this officer is the
person that he states himself to be. Messieurs," continued Captain
Vangilt, addressing those about the general, "I assure you it is true,
and I am under the greatest obligation to this officer for his kindness
and humanity when I was his prisoner."
"I recognise you now, Mr Vangilt," replied I; "and I thank you for your
evidence."
"You see, general, he knows me by name: I must demand the life of this
British officer."
The other officers then spoke to the general, who heard all they had to
say, and then, with a sardonic grin, replied,--"Gentlemen, he may be an
officer, but still he is a spy." At that moment an orderly came up on
horseback, and, dismounting, gave a note to the general.
"_Sacre bleu_!" cried he; "then we'll have our revenge first at all
events. Soldiers, take these two men, and put them in the centre, with
the others."
Vangilt pleaded and entreated in vain: at last, in his rage, he called
the general "a coward and a madman."
"Captain Vangilt, you will answer that at some other time," replied the
general; "at present we will carry our will into execution. Lead them
away."
Vangilt then covered his face with his hands, and all the other officers
showed signs of great disgust.
"Farewell, Vangilt," said I in French; "I thank you for your
interference, although you have not succeeded with the _scoundrel_."
"Take them away!" roared the general.
At that moment the report of musketry was heard in dropping shots.
"Well, if ever I saw such a bloody villain," said Cross. "Take that, at
all events;" continued Bob, shying his hat right into the general's
face. "I only wish it was a 32-pounder, you murdering thief."
The rage of the general may easily be imagined. Once more he gave his
orders, drawing his sword in a menacing way at his own soldiers, who now
forced us towards the part of the square where the other victims were
collected. As soon as we were there, they wanted to blind our eyes, but
that both I and Bob positively refused, and a delay was created by our
resistance. The musketry was now approaching much nearer; and a few
seconds afterwards the general gave the order for the party to advance
who were to execute the sentence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account