"
"I'm glad of that," said the fussy gentleman, "very!"
"Though," pursued Mottle-face, rolling his head heavily, "Joe ain't
'zactly what you might call a dead shot, nor yet a ex-pert, bein'
blind in 'is off blinker, d'ye see."
"Eh--blind, d'ye say--blind?" exclaimed the fussy gentleman.
"Only in 'is off eye," nodded Mottle-face, reassuringly, "t'other
'un's as good as yours or mine, ven 'e ain't got a cold in it."
"But this--this is an outrage!" spluttered the fussy gentleman,
"a guard blind in one eye! Scandalous! I shall write to the papers
of this. But you--surely you carry a weapon too?"
"A vepping? Ay, to be sure, sir, I've got a blunder-bush, under this
'ere werry seat, loaded up to the muzzle wi' slugs too,--though it
von't go off."
"Won't--eh, what? Won't go off?"
"Not on no account, sir, vich ain't to be 'spected of it, seeing as
it ain't got no trigger."
"But--heaven preserve us! why carry such a useless thing?"
"Force of 'abit, sir; ye see, I've carried that theer old
blunderbush for a matter of five-an'-twenty year, an' my feyther 'e
carried it afore me."
"But suppose we are attacked?"
"Vich I begs to re-mark, sir, as I don't never suppose no such thing,
like my feyther afore me.
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