Monday, 25 July 2011

An old Irishman

…a continuous roar of explosions, shaking the ground underfoot, reverberating through the mists of the morning. Beyond our view, on the southern shore, an old Irishman in a white coat was beating his shillelagh on the Khalsa’s door, and with a sinking heart I realized I had come a bare hour too late. The battle of Sobraon had begun.

Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.325, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.

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