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The horrid man advanced--he whispered sulkily in the ears of the
Grand Vizier, "Guggly ka ghee, hum khedgeree," said he, "THE OIL
DOES NOT BOIL YET--wait one minute." The assistants blew, the fire
blazed, the oil was heated. The Vizier drew a few feet aside:
taking a large ladle full of the boiling liquid, he advanced -
* * *
"Whish! bang, bang! pop!" the executioner was dead at my feet, shot
through the head; the ladle of scalding oil had been dashed in the
face of the unhappy Grand Vizier, who lay on the plain, howling.
"Whish! bang! pop! Hurrah!--charge!--forwards!--cut them down!--no
quarter!"
I saw--yes, no, yes, no, yes!--I saw regiment upon regiment of
galloping British horsemen riding over the ranks of the flying
natives. First of the host, I recognised, O Heaven! my AHMEDNUGGAR
IRREGULARS! On came the gallant line of black steeds and horsemen;
swift swift before them rode my officers in yellow--Glogger,
Pappendick, and Stuffle; their sabres gleamed in the sun, their
voices rung in the air. "D- them!" they cried, "give it them,
boys!" A strength supernatural thrilled through my veins at that
delicious music: by one tremendous effort, I wrested the post from
its foundation, five feet in the ground. I could not release my
hands from the fetters, it is true; but, grasping the beam tightly,
I sprung forward--with one blow I levelled the five executioners in
the midst of the fire, their fall upsetting the scalding oil-can;
with the next, I swept the bearers of Bobbachy's palanquin off
their legs; with the third, I caught that chief himself in the
small of the back, and sent him flying on to the sabres of my
advancing soldiers!
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