ing with apparent indifference a life which had been several times observed to be in the most imminent danger. In the meantime every eye had been turned with admiration upon Douglas, who had by his single and formidable arm alone cut to pieces, and on all sides routed the enemy, when perceiving his gallant friend, the undaunted but intemperate Harcourt, engaged in a dangerous and unequal combat, he magnanimously flew to his succour, reaching him in time to receive the wound that was aimed at his friend—the lover of his Rosilia.
Overcome with pain and effusion of blood, tottering a few steps, he fell to the ground, apparently insensible; a state envied by Harcourt, who, with consternation unparalleled, supported in his arms the bleeding and, as he conceived, expiring Douglas. His dark hair clotted with gore, his eyes closed as if in death, excited in Colonel Melbourne and others who stood near the most lively feelings of sympathy and regret. Unable to be removed, from the continual flowing of blood, the soldiers of his corps, appalled at the idea of losing their respected and brave chief, flew in different directions to apprise the surgeon of the condition in which he lay, who, on examination, found that the ball which had penetrated his body could be easily extracted.
He also discovered that the excessive effusion of blood was from a sabre-cut in the head, which Douglas had received at the same moment with the musket-ball, whilst acting in defence of Harcourt, and which,
