Winkle to ruminate on the approaching struggle,
and Mr. Snodgrass to arrange the weapons of war, and put them
into proper order for immediate use.
it was a dull and heavy evening when they again sallied forth
on their awkward errand. Mr. Winkle was muffled up in a huge
cloak to escape observation, and Mr. Snodgrass bore under his
the instruments of destruction.
'Have you got everything?' said Mr. Winkle, in an agitated tone.
'Everything,' replied Mr. Snodgrass; 'plenty of ammunition, in
case the shots don't take effect. There's a quarter of a pound of
powder in the case, and I have got two newspapers in my pocket
for the loadings.'
These were instances of friendship for which any man might
reasonably feel most grateful. The presumption is, that the
gratitude of Mr. Winkle was too powerful for utterance, as he
said nothing, but continued to walk on--rather slowly.
'We are in excellent time,' said Mr. Snodgrass, as they climbed
the fence of the first field;'the sun is just going down.' Mr. Winkle
looked up at the declining orb and painfully thought of the
probability of his 'going down' himself, before long.
'There's the officer,' exclaimed Mr.
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