, raising the drawbridge after me.

"I bore the body into my own apartment: there, swift as thought, I
stripped him of his turban, cammerbund, peijammahs, and papooshes,
and, putting them on myself, determined to go forth and reconnoitre the
enemy."

*****

Here I was obliged to stop, for Cabrera, Ros d'Eroles, and the rest of
the staff, were sound asleep! What I did in my reconnaisance, and how
I defended the fort of Futtyghur, I shall have the honor of telling on
another occasion.

CHAPTER IV.

THE INDIAN CAMP--THE SORTIE FROM THE FORT.

HEAD-QUARTERS, MORELLA, Oct. 3, 1838.

It is a balmy night. I hear the merry jingle of the tambourine, and
the cheery voices of the girls and peasants, as they dance beneath my
casement, under the shadow of the clustering vines. The laugh and
song pass gayly round, and even at this distance I can distinguish the
elegant form of Ramon Cabrera, as he whispers gay nothings in the ears
of the Andalusian girls, or joins in the thrilling chorus of Riego's
hymn, which is ever and anon vociferated by the enthusiastic soldiery of
Carlos Quinto. I am alone, in the most inaccessible and most bomb-proof
tower of our little fortalice; the large casements are open--the wind,
as it enters, whispers in my ear its odorous recollections of the
orange grove and the myrtle bower. My torch (a branch of the fragrant
cedar-tree) flares and flickers in the midnight breeze, and disperses
its scent and burning splinters on my scroll and the desk where I
write--meet implements for a soldier's authorship!--it is CARTRIDGE
paper over which my pen runs so glibly, and a yawning barrel of
gunpowder forms my rough writing-table. Around me, below me, above me,
all--all is peace! I think, as I sit here so lonely, on my country,
England! and muse over the sweet and bitter recollections of my early
days! Let me resume my narrative, at the point where (interrupted by the
authoritative summons of war) I paused on the last occasion.

I left off, I think--(for I am a thousand miles away from proof-sheets
as I write, and, were I not writing the simple TRUTH, must contradict
myself a thousand times in the course of my tale)--I think, I say,
that I left off at that period of my story, when, Holkar being before
Futtyghur, and I in command of that fortress, I had just been compelled
to make away with his messenger; and, dressed in the fallen Indian's
accoutrements, went forth to reconnoitre the force, and, if possib