These were instances of friendship for which any man might reasonably feel most grateful. The presumption is that the gratitude of Mr Winkle was too powerful for utterance, as he said nothing but continued to walk on - rather slowly.

'We are in excellent time,' said Mr Snodgrass, as they climbed the fence of the first field; 'the sunset is just dying.' Mr Winkle looked up at the declining orb and painfully thought of the probability of dying himself, before long.

'There's the officer,' exclaimed Mr Winkle, after a few minutes walking.

'Where?' said Mr Snodgrass.

'There - the gentleman in the blue cloak.' Mr Snodgrass looked in the direction indicated by the forefinger of his friend, and observed a figure, muffled up, as he had described. The officer evinced his consciousness of their presence by slightly beckoning with his hand; and the two friends followed him at a little distance, as he walked away.