Alroy and his companions defended
themselves with such desperation that they at length succeeded in
beating off their assailants, although triple their number. The leader
of the Karasmians, as he retreated, hurled a dart at the Caliph, which
must have been fatal, had not a young officer of the guard interposed
his own breast, and received the deadly wound. The party, in confusion,
returned with all speed to the camp, Alroy himself bearing the expiring
victim of desperate loyalty and military enthusiasm.
The bleeding officer was borne to the royal pavilion, and placed upon
the imperial couch. The most skilful leech was summoned; he examined the
wound, but shook his head. The dying warrior was himself sensible of his
desperate condition. His agony could only be alleviated by withdrawing
the javelin, which would occasion his immediate decease. He desired to
be left alone with his Sovereign.
'Sire!' said the officer, 'I must die; and I die without a pang. To die
in your service, I have ever considered the most glorious end. Destiny
has awarded it to me;, and if I have not met my fate upon the field
of battle, it is some consolation that my death has preserved the most
valuable of lives.
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