"The way they went
at the French, and tumbled them over the crest and down the hill was
splendid. The tears rolled down his cheeks when he heard that the major
and the others were killed, but he said that a man could not die more
gloriously. He shook hands with all the officers after it was over, and
sent a party down to the town to buy and bring up some barrels of wine,
and served out a good allowance to each man. As soon as the firing ceased
I heard him tell O'Driscol that he was proud to have commanded the
regiment."
"That is good, Terence; and now, do you think that you could bring me up
just a taste of the cratur?"
"The divil a drop, O'Grady; if Daly and O'Flaherty both say that you are
not to have it, it is certain that it is bad for you. But I'll tell you
what I will do; I have one bottle of whisky left, and I will promise you
that it sha'n't be touched till you are well enough to drink it, and if we
are marched away, as I suppose we shall be, I will hand it over to
O'Flaherty to give you when you are fit to take it. He tells me that he
will be left to look after the wounded when we move."
"I could not trust him, Terence; I would hand over a bag of gold uncounted
to him, but as for whisky, the temptation would be too great for an
Irishman to resist. Look here, you put it into a wooden box and nail it up
securely, and write on it 'O'Grady's arm,' and hand it over to him
solemnly, and tell him that I have a fancy for burying the contents
myself, which will be true enough, though it is me throat I mean to bury
it in.
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