Last week he says to me,
says he, 'Benjy, my boy,' says he, 'come and be groom to me. I'll give
you thirty pound a-year.' And I says, 'If Mr. Sam----' Hallo, there
they are at it, hammer and tongs! Sharp work, that!"
They both listened intensely. They could hear, borne on the west wind,
a distant dropping fire and a shouting. The groom's eye began to kindle
a bit, but Burnside, sitting yet upon his horse, grasped the lad's
shoulder and cried, "God save us, suppose our men should be beaten!"
"Suppose," said the groom, contemptuously shaking him off; "why, then
you and I should get our throats cut."
At this moment the noise of the distant fight breezed up louder than
ever.
"They're beat back," said Burnside. "I shall be off to Toonarbin, and
give them warning. I advise you to save yourself."
"I was set to mind these here things," said Benjy, "and I'm a-going to
mind 'em. And they as meddles with 'em had better look out."
Burnside started off for Toonarbin, and when halfway there he paused
and listened. The firing had ceased. When he came to reflect, now that
his panic was over, he had very little doubt that Desborough's party
had gained the day.
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