Joseph Mallord William Turner Whitby

There was a clatter of running feet in the street outside and a fresh uproar from downstairs. It was followed by a commotion on the stairs. The door was flung open before Rincewind could collect himself sufficiently to make a dash , and switched to Trob. "Twoflower, I think we ought to get lunch somewhere else. I know some places."
He marched out into the corridor with as much aplomb as he could muster. Twoflower followed, and a few seconds later there was a strangling sound from the sergeant as the luggage closed its lid with a snap, stood up, stretched, and marched after them.
Watchmen were dragging bodies out of the room downstairs. There for the window. But instead of the greed-crazed madman he expected, he found himself looking into the round red face of a Sergeant of the Watch. He breathed again. Of course. The Watch were always careful not to intervene too soon in any brawl where the odds were not heavily stacked in their favour. The job carried a pension, and attracted a cautious, thoughtful kind of man.The Sergeant glowered at Rincewind, and then peered at Twoflower with interest."Everything all right here, then?" he said."Oh, fine," said Rincewind. "got held up, did you?" The sergeant ignored him. "This the foreigner?" he inquired."We were just leaving," said Rincewind quickly