‘“That sent me into a passion, to think of them spying our flight!”
Heigh, Tom! you’ve Bridgeman blood, boy! And, “‘Face them!’ I
shouted: ‘All right;
Sure, Serjeant, we’ll take their shot dacent, like gentlemen,’ Grady
replied.
A ball in his mouth, and the noble old Irishman dropped by my side.
Then there was just an instant to save myself, when a short wheeze
Of bloody lungs under the smoke, and a red-coat crawled up on his
knees.