These four had no clothing besides
their trousers, and stood with their arms folded, in all the calmness
of desperate men caught in the very fact of some horrible atrocity,
which they knew shut out every hope of mercy. The two others were
white Frenchmen, tall, bushy-whiskered, sallow desperadoes, but still,
wonderful to relate, with, if I may so speak, the manners of gentlemen.
One of them squinted, and had a hare-lip, which gave him a horrible
expression. They were dressed in white trousers and shirts, yellow
silk sashes round their waists, and a sort of blue uniform jackets,
blue Gascon caps, with the peaks, from each of which depended a large
bullion tassel, hanging down on one side of their heads. The whole
party had apparently made up their minds that resistance was vain, for
their pistols and cutlasses, some of them bloody, had all been laid on
the table, with the butts and handles towards us, contrasting horribly
with the glittering equipage of steel, and crystal, and silver things,
on the snow-white damask tablecloth. They were immediately seized and
ironed, to which they submitted in silence. We next released the
passengers, and were overpowered with thanks, one dancing, one crying,
one laughing, and another praying.
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