Let me see.

When did you leave England, sir ?' 'Five weeks ago,' said Martin.
'Five weeks ago,' repeated the colonel, thoughtfully; as he took his seat upon the table, and swung his legs.

'Now let me ask you, sir which of Mr Brick's articles had become at that time the most obnoxious to the British Parliament and the Court of Saint James's ?' 'Upon my word,' said Martin, 'I--' 'I have reason to know, sir,' interrupted the colonel, 'that the aristocratic circles of your country quail before the name of Jefferson Brick.

I should like to be informed, sir, from your lips, which of his sentiments has struck the deadliest blow--' 'At the hundred heads of the Hydra of Corruption now grovelling in the dust beneath the lance of Reason, and spouting up to the universal arch above us, its sanguinary gore,' said Mr Brick, putting on a little blue cloth cap with a glazed front, and quoting his last article.
'The libation of freedom, Brick'-- hinted the colonel.
'-- Must sometimes be quaffed in blood, colonel,' cried Brick.

And when he said 'blood,' he gave the great pair of scissors a sharp snap, as if THEY said blood too, and were quite of his opinion.
This done, they both looked at Martin, pausing for a reply.
'Upon my life,' said Martin, who had by this time quite recovered his usual coolness, 'I can't give you any satisfactory information about it; for the truth is that I--' 'Stop!' cried the colonel, glancing sternly at his war correspondent and giving his head one shake after every sentence.