* * *

Three o'clock came: the sun was at this time making his appearance
in the heavens, and with it came the guards, who were appointed to
conduct me to the torture. I woke, rose, was carried out, and was
set on the very white donkey on which Loll Mahommed was conducted
through the camp after he was bastinadoed. Bobbachy Bahawder rode
behind me, restored to his rank and state; troops of cavalry hemmed
us in on all sides; my ass was conducted by the common executioner:
a crier went forward, shouting out, "Make way for the destroyer of
the faithful--he goes to bear the punishment of his crimes." We
came to the fatal plain: it was the very spot whence I had borne
away the elephant, and in full sight of the fort. I looked towards
it. Thank Heaven! King George's banner waved on it still--a crowd
were gathered on the walls--the men, the dastards who had deserted
me--and women, too. Among the latter I thought I distinguished ONE
who--O gods! the thought turned me sick--I trembled and looked pale
for the first time.

"He trembles! he turns pale," shouted out Bobbachy Bahawder,
ferociously exulting over his conquered enemy.

"Dog!" shouted I--(I was sitting with my head to the donkey's tail,
and so looked the Bobbachy full in the face)--"not so pale as you
looked when I felled you with this arm--not so pale as your women
looked when I entered your harem!" Completely chop-fallen, the
Indian ruffian was silent: at any rate, I had done for HIM.

We arrived at the place of execution. A stake, a couple of feet