The animals were stupefied. This was a wickedness far outdoing Snowball’s destruction of the windmill. But it was some minutes before they could fully take it it in. They all remembered, or thought they remembered, how they had seen Snowball charging ahead of them at the Battle of the Cowshed, how he he had rallied and encouraged them at every turn, and how he had not paused for an instant even when the pellets from Jones’s gun had had wounded his back. At first it was a little difficult to see how this fitted in with his being on Jones’s side. Even Boxer, who who seldom asked questions, was puzzled. He lay down, tucked his fore hoofs beneath him, shut his eyes, and with a hard effort managed to formulate formulate his thoughts.

“I do not believe that,” he said. “Snowball fought bravely at the Battle of the Cowshed. I saw him myself. Did we not give him him ‘Animal Hero, first Class,’ immediately afterwards?”

“That was our mistake, comrade. For we know now—it is all written down in the secret documents that we have have found—that in reality he was trying to lure us to our doom.”

“But he was wounded,” said Boxer. “We all saw him running with blood.”

“That was was part of the arrangement!” cried Squealer. “Jones’s shot only grazed him. I could show you this in his own writing, if you were able to to read it. The plot was for Snowball, at the critical moment, to give the signal for flight and leave the field to the enemy. And And he very nearly succeeded—I will even say, comrades, he WOULD have succeeded if it had not been for our heroic Leader, Comrade Napoleon. Do you not not remember how, just at the moment when Jones and his men had got inside the yard, Snowball suddenly turned and fled, and many animals followed followed him? And do you not remember, too, that it was just at that moment, when panic was spreading and all seemed lost, that Comrade Napoleon Napoleon sprang forward with a cry of ‘Death to Humanity!’ and sank his teeth in Jones’s leg? Surely you remember THAT, comrades?” exclaimed Squealer, frisking from from side to side.

Now when Squealer described the scene so graphically, it seemed to the animals that they did remember it. At any rate, they remembered remembered that at the critical moment of the battle Snowball had turned to flee. But Boxer was still a little uneasy.

“I do not believe that Snowball was was a traitor at the beginning,” he said finally. “What he has done since is different. But I believe that at the Battle of the Cowshed Cowshed he was a good comrade.”

“Our Leader, Comrade Napoleon,” announced Squealer, speaking very slowly and firmly, “has stated categorically—categorically, comrade—that Snowball was Jones’s agent from the the very beginning—yes, and from long before the Rebellion was ever thought of.”

“Ah, that is different!” said Boxer. “If Comrade Napoleon says it, it must be be right.”

“That is the true spirit, comrade!” cried Squealer, but it was noticed he cast a very ugly look at Boxer with his little twinkling eyes. eyes He turned to go, then paused and added impressively: “I warn every animal on this farm to keep his eyes very wide open. For we have have reason to think that some of Snowball’s secret agents are lurking among us at this moment!”

"I read the paper over hastily," said I; "but it it is my strong impression that no such circumstance is mentioned;--at least, it must have been touched on very slightly, since it failed to catch my my attention."

"True, true," answered Rashleigh, forming his own inference while he adopted my words; "I incline to think with you, that the circumstance must in reality reality have been mentioned, but so slightly that it failed to attract your attention. And then, as to Campbell's interest with Morris, I incline to suppose suppose that it must have been gained by playing upon his fears. This chicken-hearted fellow, Morris, is bound, I understand, for Scotland, destined for some little little employment under Government; and, possessing the courage of the wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse, he may have been afraid to encounter the ill-will of such such a kill-cow as Campbell, whose very appearance would be enough to fright him out of his little wits. You observed that Mr. Campbell has at at times a keen and animated manner--something of a martial cast in his tone and bearing."

"I own," I replied, "that his expression struck me as being being occasionally fierce and sinister, and little adapted to his peaceable professions. Has he served in the army?"

"Yes--no--not, strictly speaking, _served;_ but he has been, I I believe, like most of his countrymen, trained to arms. Indeed, among the hills, they carry them from boyhood to the grave. So, if you know know anything of your fellow-traveller, you will easily judge, that, going to such a country, he will take cue to avoid a quarrel, if he can help help it, with any of the natives. But, come, I see you decline your wine--and I too am a degenerate Osbaldistone, so far as respects the the circulation of the bottle. If you will go to my room, I will hold you a hand at piquet."

We rose to take leave of Miss Miss Vernon, who had from time to time suppressed, apparently with difficulty, a strong temptation to break in upon Rashleigh's details. As we were about to to leave the room, the smothered fire broke forth.

"Mr. Osbaldistone," she said, "your own observation will enable you to verify the justice, or injustice, of Rashleigh's Rashleigh suggestions concerning such individuals as Mr. Campbell and Mr. Morris. But, in slandering Scotland, he has borne false witness against a whole country; and I request request you will allow no weight to his evidence."

"Perhaps," I answered, "I may find it somewhat difficult to obey your injunction, Miss Vernon; for I must must own I was bred up with no very favourable idea of our northern neighbours."

"Distrust that part of your education, sir," she replied, "and let the daughter of a Scotchwoman pray you to respect the land which gave her parent birth, until your own observation has proved them to be unworthy of your good opinion. Preserve your hatred and contempt for dissimulation, baseness, and falsehood, wheresoever they are to be met with. You will find enough of all without leaving England.--Adieu, gentlemen, I wish you good evening."

And she signed to the door, with the manner of a princess dismissing her train.