The Tremendous Adventures of Major GahaganThackeray, William Makepeace
History
The Tremendous Adventures of Major Gahagan
Thackeray, William Makepeace
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
Loth as they were, these gentlemen had nothing for it but to obey, and
they accordingly followed me to the ramparts, where I proceeded to
review my men. The fort, in my absence, had been left in command of
Lieutenant Macgillicuddy, a countryman of my own (with whom, as may be
seen in an early chapter of my memoirs, I had an affair of honour); and
the prisoner Bobbachy Bahawder, whom I had only stunned, never wishing
to kill him, had been left in charge of that officer. Three of the
garrison (one of them a man of the Ahmednuggar Irregulars, my own
body-servant, Ghorumsaug above named) were appointed to watch the
captive by turns, and never leave him out of their sight. The
lieutenant was instructed to look to them and to their prisoner; and as
Bobbachy was severely injured by the blow which I had given him, and
was, moreover, bound hand and foot, and gagged smartly with cords, I
considered myself sure of his person.
Macgillicuddy did not make his appearance when I reviewed my little
force, and the three havildars were likewise absent: this did not
surprise me, as I had told them not to leave their prisoner; but
desirous to speak with the lieutenant, I despatched a messenger to him,
and ordered him to appear immediately.
The messenger came back; he was looking ghastly pale: he whispered some
information into my ear, which instantly caused me to hasten to the
apartments where I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be confined.
The men had fled;—Bobbachy had fled; and in his place, fancy my
astonishment when I found—with a rope cutting his naturally wide mouth
almost into his ears—with a dreadful sabre-cut across his forehead—with
his legs tied over his head, and his arms tied between his legs—my
unhappy, my attached friend—Mortimer Macgillicuddy!
He had been in this position for about three hours—it was the very
position in which I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be placed—an
attitude uncomfortable, it is true, but one which renders escape
impossible, unless treason aid the prisoner.
I restored the lieutenant to his natural erect position; I poured
half-a-bottle of whisky down the immensely enlarged orifice of his
mouth; and when he had been released, he informed me of the
circumstances that had taken place.
Fool that I was! idiot!—upon my return to the fort, to have been
anxious about my personal appearance, and to have spent a couple of
hours in removing the artificial blackening from my beard and
complexion, instead of going to examine my prisoner—when his escape
would have been prevented. O foppery, foppery!—it was that cursed love
of personal appearance which had led me to forget my duty to my
general, my country, my monarch, and my own honour!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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