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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"


'Good thing I brought Towzer!' said Chevenix.
'Damn him, I wonder where he is!' said Ronald; and he moved the
lantern up and down, and turned the night into a shifting puzzle-
work of gleam and shadow. 'I think I'll make a sally.'
'I don't think you will,' replied Chevenix. 'When I agreed to come
out here and do sentry-go, it was on one condition, Master Ronald:
don't you forget that! Military discipline, my boy! Our beat is
this path close about the house. Down, Towzer! good boy, good boy-
-gently, then!' he went on, caressing his confounded monster.
'To think! The beggar may be hearing us this minute!' cried
Ronald.
'Nothing more probable,' said the Major. 'You there, St. Ives?' he
added, in a distinct but guarded voice. 'I only want to tell you,
you had better go home. Mr. Gilchrist and I take watch and watch.'
The game was up. 'Beaucoup de plaisir!' I replied, in the same
tones. 'Il fait un peu froid pour veiller; gardez-vous des
engelures!'
I suppose it was done in a moment of ungovernable rage; but in
spite of the excellent advice he had given to Ronald the moment
before, Chevenix slipped the chain, and the dog sprang, straight as
an arrow, up the bank. I stepped back, picked up a stone of about
twelve pounds weight, and stood ready. With a bound the beast
landed on the cope-stone of the wall; and, almost in the same
instant, my missile caught him fair in the face.


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