ment, for they were
inferior in number, and the English reinforcements consisted of fresh
troops, I charged at the head of our weak reserve of cavalry. The old
prince was in the centre, fighting, as he always fights, intrepidly; his
son, Djalma, scarcely eighteen, as brave as his father, did not leave my
side. In the hottest part of the engagement, my horse was killed under
me, and rolling over into a ravine, along the edge of which I was
riding, I found myself so awkwardly entangled beneath him, that for an
instant I thought my thigh was broken."

"Poor father!" said Blanche.

"This time, happily, nothing more dangerous ensued thanks to Djalma!
You see, Dagobert," added Rose, "that I remember the name." And she
continued to read,

"The English thought--and a very flattering opinion it was--that, if
they could kill me, they would make short work of the prince's army.
So a Sepoy officer, with five or six irregulars--cowardly, ferocious
plunderers--seeing me roll down the ravine, threw themselves into it
to despatch me. Surrounded by fire and smoke, and carried away by their
ardor, our mountaineers had not seen me fall; but Djalma never left me.
He leaped into the ravine to my assistance, and his cool intrepidity
saved my life. He had held the fire of his double-barrelled carbine;
with one load, he killed the officer on the spot; with the other he
broke the arm of an irregular, who had already pierced my left hand
with his bayonet. But do not be alarmed, dear Eva; it is nothing--only a
scratch."

"Wounded--again wounded--alas!" cried Blanche, clasping her hands
together, and interrupting her sister.

"Take courage!" said Dagobert: "I dare say it was only a scratch, as
the general calls it. Formerly, he used to call wounds, which did not
disable a man from fighting, blank wounds. There was no one like him for
such sayings."

"Djalma, seeing me wounded," resumed Rose, wiping her eyes, "made use
of his heavy carbine as a club, and drove back the soldiers. At that
instant, I perceived a new assailant, who, sheltered behind a clump of
bamboos which commanded the ravine, slowly lowered his long gun, placed
the barrel between two branches, and took deliberate aim at Djalma.
Before my shouts could apprise him of his danger, the brave youth
had received a ball in his breast. Feeling himself hit, he fell bark
involuntarily two paces, and dropped upon one knee: but he still
remained firm, endeavoring to cover me with his bod