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Updated: May 3, 2025
Didn't he know that unless he came quickly Malet-Marsac would either leap on his horse and ride it till it fell, or else lose control inside the jail and either burst into tears, faint, or going mad put up a fight for his friend there in the jail itself, snatch weapons, get back to back with him and die fighting then and there or, later, on the same scaffold?
It had been a case of "and even the ranks of Tuscany" on the part of Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost Mahommed.... Later he had encountered him and Captain Malet-Marsac at Duri. Mrs. Pat Dearman was sceptical. "Do you mean to tell me that you, a man of science, an eminent medical man, and a soldier, believe in the supernatural?"
On the day after my arrival I went to call on Malet-Marsac to whom I had letters of introduction political business and, as he was out, but certain to return in a minute or two from Parade, I sat me down in a comfortable chair in the verandah " "And went to sleep?" interrupted Mrs. Dearman. "I nevah sleep," quoted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and I had no time, if any inclination.
I can tell you I was mighty surprised, for not only was Captain Malet-Marsac a lone bachelor and a misogynist of blameless life, but the lady looked as though she had stepped straight out of an Early Victorian phonograph-album. She had on a crinoline sort of dress, a deep lace collar, spring-sidey sort of boots, mittens, and a huge cameo brooch. Also she had long ringlets.
Captain Malet-Marsac swallowed continuously, lest he lose the faculty of swallowing and be choked. Major Ranald looked at his watch. "Two minutes to seven. Come on," he said, and took the cheroot from the prisoner's mouth. "Good-bye, Mike," said that person to the swallowing fainting wretch. "Don't try and say anything. I know exactly what you feel.
Captain Malet-Marsac owned him master, his military as well as his official superior, and grew to feel towards him as his immediate followers felt toward Napoleon to love him with a devoted respect, a respecting devotion.
In a second the men were fighting fiercely, coolly, murderously. Bruce was the bigger, stronger, more scientific, and there could be but one result, given ordinary luck. It was a long, severe, and punishing affair. "Time," gasped Malet-Marsac at length, and dropped his hands.
Robin Ross-Ellison, "that was the man of all men for me! A gentleman, wishful to die.... That is the sort that does things when swords are out and bullets fly. Seeks a gory grave and gets a V.C. instead. He and Mike Malet-Marsac and I would have put a polish on the new Gungapur Fusiliers.... Rough luck...."
"Now bugler!" said Captain Malet-Marsac, and Moussa Isa's locum tenens blew his only call a series of long loud G's.... The gate blazed, before long it would fall.... A hush fell upon the expectant multitude without, the men of the more-or-less uniformed and disciplined party raised their rifles, a big burly man bawled orders....
Approaching the gate he whispered a countersign and was admitted, the gate being then held open for the Pathan who followed him at a distance of a hundred yards. Entering Colonel Ross-Ellison's room the Pathan quickly metamorphosed himself into Colonel Ross-Ellison, and sent for his Adjutant, Captain Malet-Marsac.
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