While this conversation was going on, an extraordinary bustle was observed in the crowd, and this unquiet genius pushing through it with great violence, his goat's skin upon his shoulders, and covered with dull and sweat, in the same manner he came from the field; he had heard I was gone to the king's tent with the red flag, and not doubting I was to complain of him, or praise myself at his expence, had directly followed me, without giving himself time to make the least inquiry. He threw himself suddenly, with his face to the ground, before the throne, and rising as quickly, and in violent agitation, he said to the king, or rather bellowed, very indecently, "It is a lie Yagoube is telling; he does not say the truth; I meant him no harm but good to day, and he did not understand my language. I don't say Yagoube is not as good a man as any of us, but it is a lie he has been telling now, and I will prove it."
A general silence followed this wild rhapsody; the king was surprised, and very gravely said, I am sorry, for your sake, if it is a lie; for my part, I was rash enough to believe it was true. Guebra Mascal was still going to make bad worse, by some absurd reply, when the secretary, and one or two of his friends, hauled him out behind, the throne to one of the apartments within, not without some resistance, every one supposing, and many saying, he was drunk; the king was silent, but appeared exceedingly displeased, when I fell upon the ground before him, (a form of asking leave to speak upon any particular subject) and rising said, Sir, with great submission, it is not, I apprehend, true, that Guebra Mascal is drunk, as some have rashly said now in your presence; we have all ate and drank, and changed our cloathing since the battle; but this man, who has been on
