Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Containing the Story of the Bagman’s Uncle

           

           ‘"Iwill,"saidmyuncle.

           ‘"Do,"saidtheguard.

           ‘Thepassengershadregardedthiscolloquywithgreatattention,and,findingthatmyunclewasdeterminednottoalight,theyoungermansqueezedpasthim,tohandtheladyout.Atthismoment,theill-lookingmanwasinspectingtheholeinthecrownofhisthree-corneredhat.Astheyoungladybrushedpast,shedroppedoneofherglovesintomyuncle’shand,andsoftlywhispered,withherlipssoclosetohisfacethathefeltherwarmbreathonhisnose,thesingleword"Help!"Gentlemen,myuncleleapedoutofthecoachatonce,withsuchviolencethatitrockedonthespringsagain.

           ‘"Oh!you’vethoughtbetterofit,haveyou?"saidtheguard,whenhesawmyunclestandingontheground.

           ‘Myunclelookedattheguardforafewseconds,insomedoubtwhetheritwouldn’tbebettertowrenchhisblunderbussfromhim,fireitinthefaceofthemanwiththebigsword,knocktherestofthecompanyovertheheadwiththestock,snatchuptheyounglady,andgooffinthesmoke.Onsecondthoughts,however,heabandonedthisplan,asbeingashadetoomelodramaticintheexecution,andfollowedthetwomysteriousmen,who,keepingtheladybetweenthem,werenowenteringanoldhouseinfrontofwhichthecoachhadstopped.Theyturnedintothepassage,andmyunclefollowed.

           ‘Ofalltheruinousanddesolateplacesmyunclehadeverbeheld,thiswasthemostso.

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