I gave one thought to my blessed, my beautiful Belinda, and then, stepping into the front, took down one of the swivels;—­a shower of matchlock balls came whizzing round my head.  I did not heed them.

I took the swivel, and aimed coolly.  Loll Mahommed, his palanquin, and his men, were now not above two hundred yards from the fort.  Loll was straight before me, gesticulating and shouting to his men.  I fired—­bang! ! !

I aimed so true, that one hundred and seventeen best Spanish olives were lodged in a lump in the face of the unhappy Loll Mahommed.  The wretch, uttering a yell the most hideous and unearthly I ever heard, fell back dead; the frightened bearers flung down the palanquin and ran—­the whole host ran as one man:  their screams might be heard for leagues.  “Tomasha, tomasha,” they cried, “it is enchantment!” Away they fled, and the victory a third time was ours.  Soon as the fight was done, I flew back to my Belinda.  We had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, but I forgot hunger in the thought of once more beholding her!

The sweet soul turned towards me with a sickly smile as I entered, and almost fainted in my arms; but alas! it was not love which caused in her bosom an emotion so strong—­it was hunger!  “Oh! my Goliah,” whispered she, “for three days I have not tasted food—­I could not eat that horrid elephant yesterday; but now—­oh! heaven! . . . .”  She could say no more, but sank almost lifeless on my shoulder.  I administered to her a trifling dram of rum, which revived her for a moment, and then rushed down stairs, determined that if it were a piece of my own leg, she should still have something to satisfy her hunger.  Luckily I remembered that three or four elephants were still lying in the field, having been killed by us in the first action, two days before.  Necessity, thought I, has no law; my adorable girl must eat elephant, until she can get something better.

I rushed into the court where the men were, for the most part, assembled.  “Men,” said I, “our larder is empty; we must fill it as we did the day before yesterday.  Who will follow Gahagan on a foraging party?” I expected that, as on former occasions, every man would offer to accompany me.

To my astonishment, not a soul moved—­a murmur arose among the troops; and at last one of the oldest and bravest came forward.

“Captain,” he said, “it is of no use; we cannot feed upon elephants for ever; we have not a grain of powder left, and must give up the fort when the attack is made to-morrow.  We may as well be prisoners now as then, and we won’t go elephant-hunting any more.”

“Ruffian!” I said, “he who first talks of surrender, dies!” and I cut him down.  “Is there any one else who wishes to speak?”

No one stirred.

“Cowards! miserable cowards!” shouted I; “what, you dare not move for fear of death, at the hands of those wretches who even now fled before your arms—­what, do I say your arms?—­before mine!—­alone I did it; and as alone I routed the foe, alone I will victual the fortress!  Ho! open the gate!”