Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Containing the Story of the Bagman’s Uncle

           "Exertingallhisstrength,atthismoment,myunclewrenchedtheill-lookingman’sswordfromhisgrasp,andflungitcleanoutofthecoachwindow,uponwhichtheyoungergentlemanvociferated,"Deathandlightning!"again,andlaidhishanduponthehiltofhissword,inaveryfiercemanner,butdidn’tdrawit.Perhaps,gentlemen,asmyuncleusedtosaywithasmile,perhapshewasafraidofalarmingthelady.

           ‘"Now,gentlemen,"saidmyuncle,takinghisseatdeliberately,"Idon’twanttohaveanydeath,withorwithoutlightning,inalady’spresence,andwehavehadquitebloodandthunderingenoughforonejourney;so,ifyouplease,we’llsitinourplaceslikequietinsides.Here,guard,pickupthatgentleman’scarving-knife."

           ‘Asquicklyasmyunclesaidthewords,theguardappearedatthecoachwindow,withthegentleman’sswordinhishand.Hehelduphislantern,andlookedearnestlyinmyuncle’sface,ashehandeditin,when,byitslight,myunclesaw,tohisgreatsurprise,thatanimmensecrowdofmail-coachguardsswarmedroundthewindow,everyoneofwhomhadhiseyesearnestlyfixeduponhimtoo.Hehadneverseensuchaseaofwhitefaces,redbodies,andearnesteyes,inallhisborndays.

           ‘"ThisisthestrangestsortofthingIeverhadanythingtodowith,"thoughtmyuncle;"allowmetoreturnyouyourhat,sir.

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