"By heaven!" he at length replied, his chest swelling
with gratified pride at the warm and generous approval
of his companions, "this more than repays me for every
risk. Yet, to be sincere, the credit is not mine, but
Wentworth's. But for you, my dear fellow," grasping and
shaking the hand of that officer, "we should have rendered
but a Flemish account of ourselves. How beautifully those
guns covered our retreat! and the first mortar that sent
the howling devils flying in air like so many
Will-o'the-wisps, who placed that, Wentworth?"
"I did," replied the officer, with a quickness that
denoted a natural feeling of exultation; "but Bombardier
Kitson's was the most effective. It was his shell that
drove the Indians finally out of the bomb-proof, and left
the coast clear for your retreat."
"Then Kitson, and his gunners also, merit our best thanks,"
pursued Captain Erskine, whose spirits, now that his
detachment was in safety, were more than usually exhilarated
by the exciting events of the last hour; "and what will
be more acceptable, perhaps, they shall each have a glass
of my best old Jamaica before they sleep,--and such stuff
is not to be met with every day in this wilderness of a
country.
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