“And the servants are urged to be expeditious, and the sword-knots tumble the glasses into the baskets, and the cold hams atop of them, and break the decanters, to make them stow better, and the head of the firm swears, and the sleeping partner says she will faint, she could never abide thunder; and Di tells her if she does not want to abide all night, she had better move, and a vivid flash of lightning gives notice to quit, and tears and screams attest the notice is received, and the retreat is commenced; but alas, the carriages are a mile and a half off, and the tempest rages, and the rain falls in torrents, and the thunder stuns them, and the lightning blinds them.
“‘What’s the use of hurrying?’ says Di, ‘we are now wet through, and our clothes are spoiled, and I think we might take it leisurely. Pistol, take my arm, I am not afraid of you now.’
“‘Why?’
“‘Your powder is wet, and you can’t go off. You are quite harmless. Target, you had better run.’
“‘Why?’
“‘You will be sure to be hit if you don’t—won’t he, Trigger?’
“But Pistol, and Target, and Trigger are alike silent. G soft has lost his softness, and lets fall some hard terms. Every one holds down his head, why, I can’t understand, because being soaked, that attitude can’t dry them.
“‘Uncle,’ says Di, to the head of the firm, ‘you appear to enjoy it, you are buttoning up your coat as if you wanted to keep the rain in.’
“‘I wish you would keep your tongue in,’ he said, gruffly.
“‘I came for a party of pleasure,’ said the unconquerable girl, ‘and I think there is great fun in this. Hen, I feel sorry for you, you can’t stand the wet as those darling ducks can. Aunt will shake herself directly, and be as dry as an India rubber model.’