The idea of giving Lazaro any assistance was considered a capital joke,
and caused a great deal of mirth as they walked towards the store, to
which the Jew eagerly led the way.
"If there's anything good to eat or drink in the store, we may remove
some of it, though it won't be on our backs--eh, boys?" said Bags, as he
stept in advance, over a heap of rubbish, into the store.
"These first--these, my friends," cried the Jew, going up to a row of
barrels, standing a little apart from the crowded masses of articles.
"Oh, these first, eh?" said Bags; "they're the best, be they? Thank you,
Mr Lazaro; we'll see what's in 'em;" and, taking up a gimlet that lay
near, he proceeded to bore a hole in one of the barrels, desiring a
friend, whom he addressed as Tim, to tap the next one.
"Thieves!" screamed the Jew, on witnessing this proceeding, seizing
Bags' arm; "leave my store--go out--let my goods alone!" Bags lent him a
shove that sent him into a corner, and perceiving liquor flowing from
the hole he had drilled, applied his mouth to the orifice.
"Brandy," said he, as he paused for breath; "real Cognac. Comrades,
here's luck to that 'ere shot that showed us the way in;" and he took
another diligent pull at the hole.
Meantime his comrades had not been idle; other barrels were opened, and
their contents submitted to a critical inspection.
The Jew tried various modes to induce them to relinquish their booty;
first threats--then offers of reward--then cajolery; and, at last,
attempted to interpose and thrust them from their spoil. He would
probably have experienced rough treatment in addition to the spoliation
of his goods, but for other interruption too potent to be disregarded. A
shot from the enemy entering the store, enfiladed a long line of
barrels, scattering the staves and their contents. The place was
instantly flooded with liquor--wine, molasses, spirits, and oil, ran in
a mingled stream, soaking the _debris_ of biscuit and salt provisions
that strewed the floor. One soldier was struck dead, and Mr Bags only
escaped destruction by the lucky accident of having his head at that
moment apart from the barrel which had engrossed his attention, and
which was knocked to pieces.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account