Giving
his worn-out guest no long time to recover, he plied him with inquiries.
"You are exhausted," he said. "I dislike to disturb you, but I beg leave
to ask you a few questions."
"Go on sir; I can answer," said the traveller, in a weary tone.
"Do you bring a message from General Elphinstone,--from the army?"
"I bring no message. There is no army,--or, rather, I am the army," was
the enigmatical reply.
"You the army? I do not understand you."
"I represent the army. The others are gone,--dead, massacred,
prisoners,--man, woman, and child. I, Doctor Brydon, am the army,--all
that remains of it."
The commander heard him in astonishment and horror. General Elphinstone
had seventeen thousand soldiers and camp-followers in his camp at Cabul.
"Did Dr. Brydon mean to say----"
"They are all gone," was the feeble reply. "I am left; all the others
are slain. You may well look frightened, sir; you would be heart-sick
with horror had you gone through my experience. I have seen an army
slaughtered before my eyes, and am here alone to tell it."
It was true; the army had vanished; an event had happened almost without
precedent in the history of the world, unless we instance the burying of
the army of Cambyses in the African desert.
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