Theodore Winthrop

“ But Jierck is at present a tipsy man, in happy-go-lucky mood. He begins to grow impatient waiting in the cold and shamming sober. A thought strikes him. He can do something more amusing than stand and handle a chilly trigger. ”

“ It will soon eat what it’s got, and go out on the stone floor. And if it don’t go out, let it burn! Blast the old house! it’s a nest of Tories. Blast it! the mistress had me thrashed like a dog. Blast the house! my wife was spoilt here, and that spoilt me. Blast it! let it burn, and show us the way out of the country!”
Jierck tore his coat from the bar, backed out, picked up his gun and skulked tipsily off to join his party. ”

“ He moved forward now without stumble or tumble. He felt his way into the wine-room. He touched the rough dusty backs of a battery of recumbent bottles. He grasped one by the neck. With a skilful blow against the shelf, he knocked off the yellow-sealed muzzle.
“Fire away!” said he, presenting the weapon at his lips. ”