Tom Cringle's Log by Michael Scott
page 16 of 773 (02%)
page 16 of 773 (02%)
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Crapeau, getting round the top of the embankment, so as to command the gap
before we could reach it, became every moment more alarming. The messenger was in great tribulation, and made several barefaced attempts to stow himself away under the stem sheets. The gallant fellows who composed the crew strained at their oars until every thing cracked again; but as the flood made, the current against us increased, and we barely held our own. "Steer her, out of the current, man," said the lieutenant to the coxswain; the man put the tiller to port as he was ordered. "Vat you do soch a ting for, Mr Capitain Lieutenant?" said the emissary. 'Oh! you not pershave you are rone in order de igh bank! How you sall satisfy me no France infanterie legere dere, too, more as in de fort, eh? How you sall satisfy me, Mister Capitain Lieutenant, eh?" "Hold your blasted tongue, will you," said Treenail, "and the infantry legere be damned simply. Mind your eye, my fine fellow, or I shall be much inclined to see whether you will be Legere in the Elbe or no. Hark!" We all pricked up our ears, and strained our eyes, while a bright, spitting sparkling fire of musketry opened at the gap, but there was no ping pinging of the shot overhead. "They cannot be firing at us, sir," said the coxswain; "none of them bullets are telling hereaway." Presently a smart fire was returned in three distinct clusters from the water, and whereas the firing at first had only lit up the dark figures of |
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