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Elisha Cuthbert Gallery Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
unbounded.
Can anything be finer or more delightful? he inquired of
Mr. Winkle.
Nothing, replied that gentleman, who had had a short man
standing on each of his feet for the quarter of an hour
immediately preceding.
It is indeed a noble and a brilliant sight, said Mr. Snodgrass,
in whose bosom a blaze of poetry was rapidly bursting forth, to
see the gallant defenders of their country drawn up in brilliant
array before its peaceful citizens; their faces beaming--not with
warlike ferocity, but with civilised gentleness; their eyes flashing
--not with the rude fire of rapine or revenge, but with the soft
light of humanity and intelligence.
Mr. Pickwick fully entered into the spirit of this eulogium, but
he could not exactly re-echo its terms; for the soft light of
intelligence burned rather feebly in the eyes of the warriors,
inasmuch as the command eyes front had been given, and all
the spectator saw before him was several thousand pair of optics,
staring straight forward, wholly divested of any expression whatever.
We are in a capital situation now, said Mr. Pickwick, looking
round him. The crowd had gradually dispersed in their
immediate vicinity, and they were nearly alone.
Capital! echoed both Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle.
What are they doing now? inquired Mr. Pickwick, adjusting
his spectacles.
I--I--rather think, said Mr. Winkle, changing colour--I
rather think theyre going to fire.
Nonsense, said Mr. Pickwick hastily.
I--I--really think they are, urged Mr. Snodgrass, somewhat
alarmed.
Impossible, replied Mr. Pickwick. He had hardly uttered the
word, when the whole half-dozen regiments levelled their muskets
as if they had but one common object, and that object the
Pickwickians, and burst forth with the most awful and tremendous
discharge that ever shook the earth to its centres, or an
elderly gentleman off his.
It was in this trying situation, exposed to a galling fire of blank
cartridges, and harassed by the operations of the military, a fresh
body of whom had begun to fall in on the opposite side, that
Mr. Pickwick displayed that perfect coolness and self-possession,
which are the indispensable accompaniments of a great mind. He
seized Mr. Winkle by the arm, and placing himself between that
gentleman and Mr. Snodgrass, earnestly besought them to
remember that beyond the possibility of being rendered deaf by
the noise, there was no immediate danger to be apprehended
from the firing.
But--but--suppose some of the men should happen to have
ball cartridges by mistake, remonstrated Mr. Winkle, pallid at
the supposition he was himself conjuring up. I heard something
whistle through the air now--so sharp; close to my ear.
We had better throw ourselves on our faces, hadnt we? said
Mr. Snodgrass.
No, no--its over now, said Mr. Pickwick. His lip might
quiver, and his cheek might blanch, but no expression of fear or
concern escaped the lips of that immortal man.
Mr. Pickwick was right--the firing ceased; but he had scarcely
time to congratulate himself on the accuracy of his opinion, when
a quick movement was visible in the line; the hoarse shout of the
word of command ran along it, and before either of the party
could form a guess at the meaning of this new manoeuvre, the
whole of the half-dozen regiments, with fixed bayonets, charged
at double-quick time down upon the very spot on which Mr.
Pickwick and his friends were stationed.
Man is but mortal; and there is a point beyond which human
courage cannot extend. Mr. Pickwick gazed through his spectacles
for an instant on the advancing mass, and then fairly turned his
back and--we will not say fled; firstly, because it is an ignoble
term, and, secondly, because Mr. Pickwicks figure was by no
means adapted for that mode of retreat--he trotted away, at as
quick a rate as his legs would convey him; so quickly, indeed,
that he did not perceive the awkwardness of his situation, to the
full extent, until too late.
The opposite troops, whose falling-in had perplexed Mr.
Pickwick a few seconds before, were drawn up to repel the mimic
attack of the sham besiegers of the citadel; and the consequence
was that Mr. Pickwick and his two companions found themselves
suddenly inclosed between two lines of great length, the one
advancing at a rapid pace, and the other firmly waiting the
collision in hostile array.
Hoi! shouted the officers of the advancing line.
Get out of the way! cried the officers of the stationary one.
Where are we to go to? screamed the agitated Pickwickians.
Hoi--hoi--hoi! was the only reply. There was a moment of
intense bewilderment, a heavy tramp of footsteps, a violent
concussion, a smothered laugh; the The Pickwick Papers page 22 The Pickwick Papers page 24 |