Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

PICKWICK ABRUAD., A7 reason to believe that my mother was a sutier or vvandiere to the camp, and was killed by a random shot during the engagement. In the midst of that scene of horror, the whole extent of which my mind could not of course comprehend, a friendly voice addressed me—a succourmg arm raised me from the ground—and a morsel of stale bread or cake was thrust into my hand. I locked up—and the tall form of a soldier met my timi d ga wze. He bade me follow him—I obeyed mechanical! y-—and he led me to a place of safety, at some little distance from the scene of warfare, where he left me while he rejoined the fight. In a short time he returned, and, in as sco’ thing a tone of voice as he could assume, endeavoured to assuage my grici , declaring he would bea father tome. I may here mention that he was one of the Em- peror’s bod y-guard, and that his horse had been killed under him a few minutes before he had discovered me on thie field of battle. That field was the scene of one of Napoleon’s most glorious victories ; and that battle was Austerlitz! Dumont—for such was the name of the benevolent c2i7asszer—ful- filled his promise, and acted a father’s—nay, more than a father’s part towards me. Buta severe wound, which he had received in a despe- rate attack against the Austrian guards, obliged him to accept a retir- ing pension, and return to Fy ance. Hedid not for get his httle charge ; on the contrary—I was a source of infinite am usement and delight to my worthy benefactor Satta. a wearisome jour mey. His care was divided between me and his uniform at uniform, which had been in many a hard-fought field—that ezrass, which had turned the edge of iany aw eapou—that brazen helm, w hich had protected his brow ir. manhy a se img charge against the serried ranks of ft enemy. At length we arrived in the neighbourhood of Paris; and when the lofty domes ind spires cf the sovereign city ieee my eyes—chiuld, infant as I was—I leapt with delight. A elow of patriotic ardour ; and pride—as he has since more than once informed me—passed over the features of the veteran cuzrassicv, when the hundred towers of that vast Babel broke upon his sight, beneath a heaven as calm and as pure as the blue skies of Italy. The excellent old man! he glanced towards the red riband of the cross of the legicn of honour which adorned his breast, and se ag in a flocd of joyous tears the feli- city he was about to experience, when Ppa by his friends, and receiving the congratulations of his numerous acquaintance en his honours and his safe return. I shail pass over the particulars attending our entry mto Paris, the circumstances of which did not make so vivid an impression upon my nemory as the events Immediately ae And now—as, indeed, I have done heretofore—I musi fi equently fill wp those blanks, which would otherwise recessarily occur in the course of my early history, by the facts and incidents my kind guardian subsequently related to me, With the produce of the booty Dumont had acquired in the Aus- trian campaign, and with the arrears of his pay, we managed to live happily for sometime: but he, like an old veteran soldier who is far irom indifferent to pleasure, was not eed anxious as to the future. t lencth—shortly after the return of tke army to France, and of the Eomichbooks (E()