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Tom Cringle's Log by Michael Scott
page 35 of 773 (04%)
"Wonders will never cease," said the colonel; "but who is that boy?"

"He is one of the crew of the English boats which tried to cut off
Colonel-----the other evening, near Cuxhaven. His life was saved by a
very laughable circumstance certainly; merely, by the marshal's sword,
from resting on the stove, having become almost red--hot." And here he
detailed the whole transaction as it took place, which set the party
a--laughing most heartily.

I will always bear witness to the extreme amenity with which I was now
treated by the French officers. The evening passed over quickly. About
eleven we retired to rest, my friend furnishing me with clothes, and
warning me, that next morning he would call me at daylight, to proceed to
his father's country--seat, where he intimated that I must remain in the
meantime.

Next morning I was roused accordingly, and a long, low, open carriage
rattled up to the door, just before day--dawn. Presently the reveille was
beaten, and answered by the different posts in the city, and on the
ramparts.

We drove on, merely showing our passport to the sentries at the different
bridges, until we reached the gate, where we had to pun up until the
officer on duty appeared, and had scrupulously compared our personal
appearance with the written description. All was found correct, and we
drove on.

It surprised me very much, after having repeatedly heard of the great
strength of Hamburgh, to look out on the large mound of green turf that
constituted its chief defence.
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