this modest reward for my labours. Never mind! when they want me
to storm a fort AGAIN, I shall know better.

Well, immediately after the capture of this important fortress,
Perron, who had been the life and soul of Scindiah's army, came in
to us, with his family and treasure, and was passed over to the
French settlements at Chandernagur. Bourquien took his command,
and against him we now moved. The morning of the 11th of September
found us upon the plains of Delhi.

It was a burning hot day, and we were all refreshing ourselves
after the morning's march, when I, who was on the advanced picket
along with O'Gawler of the King's Dragoons, was made aware of the
enemy's neighbourhood in a very singular manner. O'Gawler and I
were seated under a little canopy of horse-cloths, which we had
formed to shelter us from the intolerable heat of the sun, and were
discussing with great delight a few Manilla cheroots, and a stone
jar of the most exquisite, cool, weak, refreshing sangaree. We had
been playing cards the night before, and O'Gawler had lost to me
seven hundred rupees. I emptied the last of the sangaree into the
two pint tumblers out of which we were drinking, and holding mine
up, said, "Here's better luck to you next time, O'Gawler!"

As I spoke the words--whish!--a cannon-ball cut the tumbler clean
out of my hand, and plumped into poor O'Gawler's stomach. It
settled him completely, and of course I never got my seven hundred
rupees. Such are the uncertainties of war!

To strap on my sabre and my accoutrements--to mount my Arab
charger--to drink off what O'Gawler had left of the sangaree--and