But this involved the desertion of several injured bearers and a woman and child whom we had picked up starving, all of whom would certainly be massacred, save perhaps the woman and child.
As these reflections flitted through my brain I remembered that a drunken Frenchman named Leblanc, whom I had known in my youth and who had been a friend of Napoleon, or so he said, told me that the great emperor when he was besieging Acre in the Holy Land, was forced to retreat.

Being unable to carry off his wounded men, he left them in a monastery on Mount Carmel, each with a dose of poison by his side.
Apparently they did not take the poison, for according to Leblanc, who said he was present there (not as a wounded man), the Turks came and butchered them.

So Napoleon chose to save his own life and that of his army at the expense of his wounded.

But, after all, I reflected, he was no shining example to Christian men and I hadn't time to find any poison.

In a few words I explained the situation to Mavovo, leaving out the story of Napoleon, and asked his advice.
"We must run," he answered.