And now a
mist seemed to envelop him, but in the mist were faces above, below,
around him, faces to be struck at. But his blows grew weak and ever
weaker, the cudgel was torn from his lax grip, he staggered back on
stumbling feet knowing he could fight no more, and felt himself
caught by a mighty arm, saw a face near by, comely and dimpled of
chin, blue-eyed, and with whiskers trimmed into precise little tufts
on either cheek. Thereafter he was aware of faint cries and shouts,
of a rushing patter like rain among leaves, and of a voice speaking
in his ear.
"Right about face,--march! Easy does it! mind me 'ook, sir, the
p'int's oncommon sharp like. By your left--wheel! Now two steps up,
sir--that's it! Now three steps down, easy does it! and 'ere we are.
A cheer, sir, now water and a sponge!"
Here Barnabas, sinking back in the chair, leaned his head against
the wall behind him, and the mist grew more dense, obliterating all
things.
CHAPTER XXXII
OF CORPORAL RICHARD ROE, LATE OF THE GRENADIERS; AND FURTHER
CONCERNING MR. SHRIG'S LITTLE READER
A small, dim chamber, with many glasses and bottles arrayed very
precisely on numerous shelves; a very tall, broad-shouldered man who
smiled down from the rafters while he pulled at a very precise
whisker with his right hand, for his left had been replaced by a
shining steel hook; and Mr.
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