Note 19 — Chapter XIX

Strange to say, this very sergeant, whose name was Lee, and who had the fame of being the best boxer in his regiment, after the battle of Waterloo, lay wounded in the bed next to mine in the hospital at Antwerp. “Holloa, Rifleman!” said he, when he first perceived me near him, “don’t you recollect me!” At first I did not. “By God,” said he, again, “you frightened me more than a bit at Vittoria, when guarding your money-bags.” This soon settled the recognition; but, poor fellow! he died after the amputation of his arm.