h good
French, and that they were present when we were sent in on parole, and
they asked the officer whether he intended to give satisfaction. The
officer stormed, and drawing his sword out of the scabbard, struck
O'Brien with the flat of the blade, looking at him with contempt, and
ordering him into the ranks. I could not help observing that, during
this scene, the men-of-war sailors who were among the prisoners, were
very indignant, while, on the contrary, those captured in merchant
vessels appeared to be pleased with the insult offered to O'Brien. One
of the French soldiers then made a sarcastic remark, that the French
officer did not much like the name of O'Brien. This so enraged the
officer, that he flew at O'Brien, pushed him back into the ranks, and
taking out a pistol, threatened to shoot him through the head. I must
do the justice to the French soldiers, that they all called out "Shame!"

When O'Brien returned to the ranks, he looked defiance at the officer,
telling him that "he would pocket the affront very carefully, as he
intended to bring it out again upon a future and more suitable
occasion." We were then marched out in ranks, two and two, being met in
the street by two drummers, and a crowd of people, who had gathered to
witness our departure. The drums beat and away we went. The officer
who had charge of us mounted a small horse, galloping up and down from
one end of the ranks to the other, with his sword drawn, bullying,
swearing, and striking with the flat of the blade at any one of the
prisoners who was not in his proper place. When we were close to the
gates, we were joined by another detachment of prisoners: we were then
ordered to halt, and were informed, through an interpreter, that any one
attempting to escape would immediately be shot; after which information
we once more proceeded on our route.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

O'BRIEN FIGHTS A DUEL WITH A FRENCH OFFICER, AND PROVES THAT THE GREAT
ART OF FENCING IS KNOWING NOTHING ABOUT IT--WE ARRIVE AT OUR NEW
QUARTERS, WHICH WE FIND VERY SECURE.

At night we arrived at a small town, the name of which I forget. Here
we were all put into an old church for the night, and a very bad night
we passed. We were afraid to lie down anywhere as, like all ruined
buildings in France, the ground was covered with filth, and the smell
was shocking. At daybreak, the door of the church was again opened by
the French soldiers, and we were conducted to the s