The Story of Le Fever Continued
It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe, that corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following account.
I despaired, at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick lieutenant—Is he in the army, then? said my uncle Toby ⸺He is, said the corporal⸺And in what regiment? said my uncle Toby ⸺I’ll tell your honour, replied the corporal, everything straight forwards, as I learnt it.—Then, Trim , I’ll fill another pipe, said my uncle Toby , and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease, Trim , in the window-seat, and begin thy story again. The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow could speak it— Your honour is good :⸺And having done that, he sat down, as he was ordered,—and began the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the same words.
I despaired at first, said the corporal, of being able to bring back any intelligence to your honour, about the lieutenant and his son; for when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of knowing everything which was proper to be asked,—That’s a right distinction, Trim , said my uncle Toby —I was answered, an’ please your honour, that he had no servant with him;⸺that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed (to join, I suppose, the regiment), he had dismissed the morning after he came.—If I get better, my dear, said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the man,—we can hire horses from hence.⸺But alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence, said the landlady to me,—for I heard the