calculation, as soon as Obadiah quitted the room: but this second attack of Obadiah’s , in opening the door and laying the whole country under water, was too much.⸺He let go his compasses—or rather with a mixed motion between accident and anger, he threw them upon the table; and then there was nothing for him to do, but to return back to Calais (like many others) as wise as he had set out.
When the letter was brought into the parlour, which contained the news of my brother’s death, my father had got forwards again upon his journey to within a stride of the compasses of the very same stage of Nevers .⸺By your leave, Mons. Sanson , cried my father, striking the point of his compasses through Nevers into the table—and nodding to my uncle Toby to see what was in the letter—twice of one night, is too much for an English gentleman and his son, Mons. Sanson , to be turned back from so lousy a town as Nevers —What think’st thou, Toby? added my father in a sprightly tone.⸺Unless it be a garrison town, said my uncle Toby ⸺for then⸺I shall be a fool, said my father, smiling to himself, as long as I live.—So giving a second nod—and keeping his compasses still upon Nevers with one hand, and holding his book of the post-roads in the other—half calculating and half listening, he leaned forwards upon the table with both elbows, as my uncle Toby hummed over the letter.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻—he’s gone! said my uncle Toby .⸺Where⸺Who? cried my father.⸺My nephew, said my uncle Toby .⸺What—without leave—without money—without governor? cried my father in amazement. No:⸺he is dead, my dear brother, quoth my uncle Toby .—Without being ill? cried my father again.—I dare say not, said my uncle Toby , in a low voice, and fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, he has been ill enough, poor lad! I’ll answer for him⸺for he is dead.