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Updated: July 15, 2025
But on they went, swift and silent, creeping ever in the gloom of the wall beside them, nearer and nearer until presently the River flowed before them, looming darker than the dark, and its sullen murmur was all about them; until Mr. Shrig, stopping all at once, raised the hat upon his stick and thrust it slowly, inch by inch, round the angle of the wall.
A sudden, blinding flash, a deafening report, and, dropping his pistol, Mr. Shrig groaned and staggered up against the wall. But Barnabas was ready and, as their assailants rushed, met them with whirling stick. It was desperate work, but Barnabas was in the mood for it, answering blow with blow, and shout with shout. "Oh, Jarsper!" roared a distant voice, "we're coming. Hold 'em, Jarsper!"
Shrig, as the big Corporal having selected divers bottles from his precise array, took himself off to concoct a jorum of the One and Only "now sir, what do you think o' my pal Corporal Dick?" "A splendid fellow!" said Barnabas. "'E is that, sir, so 'e is, a giant, eh sir?" "A giant, yes, and handsome too!" said Barnabas. "V'y you're a sizable cove yourself, sir," nodded Mr.
Shrig and as he leaned upon his stick I saw his bright glance roving here and there; it flashed along the path before us; it swept the thicker parts of the hedge behind us; it questioned the deepening shadow of the copse. "Aye, here's an end to Number Vun, and if we look in the vood yonder, I fancy we shall see summat o' Number Two.
Shrig vanished, to pursue those enquiries he had repeated at every posthouse along the road. Presently as I sat, reins in hand, an ostler appeared who, grasping the horse's bridle and heeding me no whit, led us into the stable yard. And here I found Mr.
Sure enough, from the darkness behind, came a sound there was no mistaking, the rush and patter of pursuing feet, and the feet were many. "Are we to fight here?" demanded Barnabas, buttoning his coat. "No, not yet, sir. Ah! there's Oliver told you it vould be a fine night. This vay, sir!" And turning to the left again, Mr. Shrig led the way down a narrow passage.
Barty, sir," said that worthy, glancing up and down the street with a pair of mild, round eyes, "you can burn my neck if I wasn't beginning to vorry about you, up theer all alone vith that 'ere child o' mine. For, sir, of all the Capital coves as ever I see, 'e's vun o' the werry capital-est." "Why," exclaimed Barnabas, starting, "is that you, Mr. Shrig?" "As ever vas, sir.
"Now," said he, "I should like to take the liberty o' axing you one or two questions, Mr. Barty, sir, or as I should say, p'r'aps, Mr. Beverley." "What," exclaimed Barnabas, starting up, "it's you again, Mr. Shrig?" "That werry same i-dentical, sir. Disguises again, ye see.
He was right then our Jervas was right!" And so my uncle George learned to weep at last and found within her loving arms the blessed relief of tears. I had been ringing ineffectually at the bell of my chambers for perhaps five minutes and was about to visit the adjacent mews in quest of my groom, when a voice spoke my name, and turning about, I beheld Mr. Shrig, the Bow Street officer. "Mr.
Shrig stepped forward very softly, and beholding that placid young face with its tender, smiling lips, and the lashes that drooped so dark against the dead pallor of the cheek, he took off his broad-brimmed hat and stood there with bent head.
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