By the by, the guns is going again." "At the Hulks ?" said I.
"Ay! There's some of the birds flown from the cages.

The guns have been going since dark, about.

You'll hear one presently." In effect, we had not walked many yards further, when the well-remembered boom came towards us, deadened by the mist, and heavily rolled away along the low grounds by the river, as if it were pursuing and threatening the fugitives.
"A good night for cutting off in," said Orlick.

"We'd be puzzled how to bring down a jail-bird on the wing, to-night." The subject was a suggestive one to me, and I thought about it in silence.

Mr.Wopsle, as the ill-requited uncle of the evening's tragedy, fell to meditating aloud in his garden at Camberwell.