Flash for Freedom! (Flashman)

Flash for Freedom! (Flashman)

George MacDonald Fraser

Language: English

Pages: 304

ISBN: 0452260892

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

A game of cards leads Flashman from the jungle death-house of Dahomey to the slave state of Mississippi as he dabbles in the slave trade in Volume III of the "Flashman Papers". When Flashman was inveigled into a game of pontoon with Disraeli and Lord George Bentinck, he was making an unconscious choice about his own future - would it lie in the House of Commons or the West African slave trade? Was there, for that matter, very much difference? Once again Flashman's charm, cowardice, treachery, lechery and fleetness of foot see the lovable rogue triumph by the skin of his chattering teeth.

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La Vérité (Les annales du Dique-monde, Tome 25)

Are You Sh*tting Me?: 1,004 Facts That Will Scare the Crap Out of You

Trouble in the Brasses (Madoc & Janet Rhys, Book 4)
















from disaster (which didn’t matter at all—not to me, anyway). But that’s another tale, for another day. That night in Portsmouth he left me in a fine frustrated fury. After all my struggling and running and ingenuity, I was going to be shipped back to New Orleans—and inevitably a prison cell, or worse. I couldn’t even run any more, what with my behind laid open, and there would be a marshal to see that I got safe into the clutches of the American Navy, too. By George, I was angry; I could have

of which contemporary records exist, and which tell appalling tales of human cargoes thrown overboard, epidemics, mutinies, and unspeakable cruelties. Even the sailors’ stories which Flashman retells give only a pale impression of the reality. Figures compiled by Warren S. Howard in his American Slavers and the Federal law indicate that on average one-sixth of slaves shipped died on the Middle Passage. The Balliol College’s low mortality rate was not unique, however, in 1847 only three slaves

used to. No-suh. She come from one o’ the best French families in N’Awlins—the Delancy’s, likely you heard o’ them, gotta tre-mendous big estate out to Lake Pontchartrain. Trouble is, ol’ man Delancy, he a bit stretched, an’ I helped him out over a couple o’ deals. Five years ago, that was, when I married Annie. Here, Jonah, light a see-gar for Mist’ Arnold; fill your glass, suh.” By now he would be well launched, convincing himself for the thousandth time, against all reason. “Ye-es, five

word—they know what would happen to them.” I didn’t like to think what that would be, knowing Madame Annette, but since she seemed so unconcerned I saw no reason why I should fret, and consequently grew careless. I had been in the habit of opening one of her bedroom windows, so that we might hear if anyone approached the house from the road, but on the third day I forgot, so that we never heard the pad of hooves across the turf. We had just finished a bout; Annette was lying face down on the

of Baton Rouge, travelling north. In the dark it should be simple enough. “If I do not come—wait,” says she. “I will come in the end. If I don’t come by tomorrow, I’ll be dead, and you will be able to go where you will. But until then I hold you to your word—your pledged promise, remember?” “I remember, I remember!” says I, jittering. “But suppose you can’t run—suppose he chains you up, or something. What then?” “He won’t,” says she, calmly. “Be assured, I can run. There is nothing hard about

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