⸺⁠And here is the Maes⁠—and this is the Sambre; said the corporal, pointing with his right hand extended a little towards the map and his left upon Mrs. Bridget’s shoulder⁠⸺⁠but not the shoulder next him⁠—and this, said he, is the town of Namur⁠—and this the citadel⁠—and there lay the French⁠—and here lay his honour and myself⁠⸺⁠and in this cursed trench, Mrs. Bridget, quoth the corporal, taking her by the hand, did he receive the wound which crush’d him so miserably here.⁠⸺⁠In pronouncing which, he slightly press’d the back of her hand towards the part he felt for⁠⸺⁠and let it fall.

We thought, Mr. Trim, it had been more in the middle,⁠⸺⁠said Mrs. Bridget⁠⸺⁠

That would have undone us forever⁠—said the corporal.

⸺⁠And left my poor mistress undone too, said Bridget.

The corporal made no reply to the repartee, but by giving Mrs. Bridget a kiss.

Come⁠—come⁠—said Bridget⁠—holding the palm of her left hand parallel to the plane of the horizon, and sliding the fingers of the other over it, in a way which could not have been done, had there been the least wart or protuberance⁠⸺’Tis every syllable of it false, cried the corporal, before she had half finished the sentence⁠⸺⁠

—I know it to be fact, said Bridget, from credible witnesses.

⸻Upon my honour, said the corporal, laying his hand upon his heart and blushing, as he spoke, with honest resentment⁠—’tis a story, Mrs. Bridget, as false as hell⁠⸺⁠Not, said Bridget, interrupting him, that either I or my mistress care a halfpenny about it, whether ’tis so or no⁠⸻only that when one is married, one would choose to have such a thing by one at least⁠⸺⁠

It was somewhat unfortunate for Mrs. Bridget, that she had begun the attack with her manual exercise; for the corporal instantly * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *.