The Squirradical had his stick presented like a sword. 'Gid,' he began,
'Gid, I--'
'O Mr Forsyth!' cried the girl. 'O don't go forward, you don't know what
it might be--it might be something perfectly horrid.'
'It may be the devil itself,' said Gideon, disengaging himself, 'but I
am going to see it.'
'Don't be rash, Gid,' cried his uncle.
The barrister drew near to the sound, which was certainly of a
portentous character. In quality it appeared to blend the strains of
the cow, the fog-horn, and the mosquito; and the startling manner of its
enunciation added incalculably to its terrors. A dark object, not unlike
the human form divine, appeared on the brink of the ditch.
'It's a man,' said Gideon, 'it's only a man; he seems to be asleep and
snoring. Hullo,' he added, a moment after, 'there must be something
wrong with him, he won't waken.'
Gideon produced his vestas, struck one, and by its light recognized the
tow head of Harker.
'This is the man,' said he, 'as drunk as Belial. I see the whole story';
and to his two companions, who had now ventured to rejoin him, he set
forth a theory of the divorce between the carrier and his cart, which
was not unlike the truth.
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