He said to me, "Thomas, I am going sketching in Herne Wood.

Take the paint-box and the rest of it, and put this into the carriage." He handed me a packet as thick as my arm, and about three feet long, done up in many folds of canvas.

I made bold to ask what it was.
He answered that it was an artist's sketching umbrella, packed for traveling.
In an hour's time, the carriage stopped on the road below Herne Wood.
My master said he would carry his sketching things himself, and I was to wait with the carriage.

In giving him the so-called umbrella, I took the occasion of his eye being off me for the moment to pass my hand over it carefully; and I felt, through the canvas, the hilt of a sword.

As an old soldier, I could not be mistaken--the hilt of a sword.
What I thought, on making this discovery, does not much matter.