The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. 7 shriek, half howl, met his ear, that he involuntarily trembled, and exclaimed: ‘‘Good God! can that sound be human ?” Again it came, louder than at first. Such a sound he had never in his life heard, or, indeed, anything approaching to it. There was a something about it perfectly undefinable. At such a moment, if ever fears of the supernatural might be considered excusable in an educated mind, surely they were when they found a home in the brain of that young officer. In aloud tone of voice he spoke to the Irishman, saying: ‘* Rafferty, you hear it ?” : “ Surely, sir, wid my one ear I hear it.” ‘‘ And can you guess what it is ?” “‘I think I can, sir. I was wounded at Salamanca, and lay all night half in a ditch and half out of it, sir. Well, sir, toward the light of the morning I heard that same sort of sound, and I thought it was ould Nick, sir, himself, a-playing a kayed-bugle, sir.” ** And what was it ” ‘¢ Aisy, sir. Well, there was a poor divil who had been kilt intirely close by me; so I says, ‘ t’s that? saysI. ‘It’s a mad horse,’ says he.” ‘* A mad horse ?” ‘Yes, sir, And here he comes, kicking friend and foe, gal- loping along like thunder and turf. Oh, bedad! and if he comes this way, we're in for it.” Again the dreadful sound, which to hear for the first time, and not to comprehend, was enough to fill any mind with horror, came across the battie-field, plunging, tearing, snorting, and dashing up the soil with its feet. The creature was dying; but what mis- chief might it not do before that last pang came which was to close its earthly career—what wounded wretches might it not scatter more pain and a worse death among, as it rushed madly across that field of carnage, sadness, and woe? ‘* It’s coming, sir,” said Rafferty, “‘ it's coming.” ‘“‘Gracious Heaven,” moaned the young officer, ‘‘is it not enough to endure all the danger of the fight, but there must be these superadded horrors to make war more terrible—to meet death with greater agony.” The mad charger now wheeled suddenly, and reeling from approaching weakness, occasioned by loss of blood, it seemed for a moment about to fall, but still was there strength enough left for another desperate charge, and on it came. It was a noble animal, coal black, and of immense size and strength. Some of the suldierly trappings still remained—one stirrup only dangled at his side, In less time than it has taken us to say so, it is on the spot where lie those in whose fortunes we are interested. It came from a direction which would bring it across the body of the wounded French officer and that deli- cate-looking female form which lay crouched up so close to him, as if he, even wounded, were a greater protection than al] else from the horrors of that field of blood. The steed stumbles before it reaches them, but with its whole. comicbooks. com