Great Expectations

The sergeant took a polite leave of the ladies, and parted from Mr.

Pumblechook as from a comrade; though I doubt if he were quite as fully

sensible of that gentleman's merits under arid conditions, as when

something moist was going. His men resumed their muskets and fell in.

Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge to keep in the rear, and

to speak no word after we reached the marshes. When we were all out in

the raw air and were steadily moving towards our business, I treasonably

whispered to Joe, "I hope, Joe, we shan't find them." and Joe whispered

to me, "I'd give a shilling if they had cut and run, Pip."

We were joined by no stragglers from the village, for the weather was

cold and threatening, the way dreary, the footing bad, darkness coming

on, and the people had good fires in-doors and were keeping the day. A

few faces hurried to glowing windows and looked after us, but none came

out. We passed the finger-post, and held straight on to the churchyard.

There we were stopped a few minutes by a signal from the sergeant's

hand, while two or three of his men dispersed themselves among the

graves, and also examined the porch. They came in again without finding

anything, and then we struck out on the open marshes, through the gate

at the side of the churchyard. A bitter sleet came rattling against us

here on the east wind, and Joe took me on his back.

Now that we were out upon the dismal wilderness where they little

thought I had been within eight or nine hours and had seen both men

hiding, I considered for the first time, with great dread, if we should

come upon them, would my particular convict suppose that it was I who

had brought the soldiers there? He had asked me if I was a deceiving

imp, and he had said I should be a fierce young hound if I joined the

hunt against him. Would he believe that I was both imp and hound in

treacherous earnest, and had betrayed him?

It was of no use asking myself this question now. There I was, on Joe's

back, and there was Joe beneath me, charging at the ditches like a

hunter, and stimulating Mr. Wopsle not to tumble on his Roman nose, and

to keep up with us. The soldiers were in front of us, extending into a

pretty wide line with an interval between man and man. We were taking

the course I had begun with, and from which I had diverged in the mist.

Either the mist was not out again yet, or the wind had dispelled it.

Under the low red glare of sunset, the beacon, and the gibbet, and the

mound of the Battery, and the opposite shore of the river, were plain,

though all of a watery lead color.