The Phantom Regiment; or, Stories of "Ours"Grant, James
General
The Phantom Regiment; or, Stories of "Ours"
Grant, James
Adventure stories; British -- Foreign countries -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction
"'But plinty of thaves and robbers, sir; and a nice meetin' it 'id be
for us.'
"'Forward!' said I; 'we must just take them, like our wives, Crogan,
for better or worse.'
"'And, like the wives, a sorry takin' it may be for some of us,' said
Darby, with a reckless laugh, as we rode on in the dark; and reaching
the skirt of a cork wood, found a large Spanish coach, drawn by two
mules--such a turn-out as one might have met in those days on the
prados of Seville or Madrid--being ransacked by five or six ruffians,
armed with pistols, knives, and carbines. A man lay dead among the
long grass, near the trees; the mules were kicking and plunging in
the traces; and while one ruffian dragged out two ladies, the others
were cutting open and emptying their portmanteaus. I drew my a word.
"'Make your horse rear, sir, the moment we are fired at,' cried
Crogan, who was a practised trooper--' 'twas by not doing so that
Corporal Lanigan, of ours, got a ball in his chest, at Talavera--his
first battle too.'
"'Forward!' cried I, 'cut them down!'
"'Whoop--hubaboo! this baste ov mine 'ud clear the rock of Cashel at
one spring!' exclaimed Crogan, who uttered an Irish yell, as we fell
suddenly on the marauders; and though we were but two to six, routed
them in a moment. Three shots were fired at us: I cut one fellow
across the hand, and severed his fingers, which grasped the barrel of
his musket; Darby stretched another among the grass, and, whether
scared by his Irish shout, our sudden onset, or the dread that there
were more of us, I know not but in a twinkling they had vanished into
the wood, and we sprang from our horses to assist the ladies.
"'Ay de mi! señor oficial!' cried the younger, grasping me by the
left arm; 'a thousand prayers and thanks.'
"'Ay! mi señor Caballero, muchias gracias,' added the elder, making a
stately, but profound curtsy to Crogan.
"'Why, mam, you make a regular Irish dip,' said he, raising his hand
to the peak of his helmet 'But, sure you've dhropped something,' he
added, picking up a flask. 'Oh, it can't be this, at all--aggadenty,
the thafe! Hurroo! it's like raal Cork, but out of a bran-new cask.'
"The old lady now turned to me, perceiving that I was the officer,
and prayed 'el santo de las santos,' and all the saints in heaven
might bless us, for our courageous and timely succour.
"'We are on our way to Ciudad Real from Madridejos, and were attacked
in the wood. My señor escudero was shot, our outriders fled; and the
ladrones would undoubtedly have maltreated me--not that I cared for
myself, señor, but my dear little goddaughter--la nina--the child--la
nina Estella. It was all for her that I trembled'--and so forth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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