"Too late I regretted the desire for knowledge, which had led me into
this predicament, for I durst not rush off from my very sad position,
for my breath would soon fail me, and my lower limbs are thick from the
exercise of hospitality. How I longed for the wings of a dove, or at
any rate for the legs of Lieutenant Blyth Scudamore! And my dark
apprehensions gained double force when a stone was dislodged by my foot
(which may have trembled), and rolled with a sharp echo down into the
ballium, or whatever it should be called, where these desperadoes stood.
In an instant three of them had their long guns pointed at the very
thicket which sheltered me, and if I had moved or attempted to make
off, there would have been a vacancy in this preferment. But luckily a
rabbit, who had been lying as close as I had, and as much afraid of me
perhaps as I was of those ruffians, set off at full speed from the hop
of the stone, and they saw him, and took him for the cause of it. This
enabled me to draw my breath again, and consider the best way of making
my escape, for I cared to see nothing more, except my own house-door.
"Happily the chance was not long in coming. At a shout from below--which
seemed to me to be in English, and sounded uncommonly like 'now,
then!'--all those fellows turned their backs to me, and began very
carefully to lower, one by one, the barrels that had been let down
the incline. And other things were standing there, besides barrels:
packing-cases, crates, very bulky-looking boxes, and low massive wheels,
such as you often see to artillery.
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