Edition (U iZuxc 
 
 BARNABY RUDGE 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE CATTERMOLE AND 
 HABLOT K. BROWNE. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ESTES & LAURIAT. 
 
 1890.
 
 EDITION DE LUXE. 
 Limited to One Thousand Copies. 
 
 U^o..S^ c . 
 
 TYPOGRAPHY AND ELECTROTYPING BY C.J. 
 PETERS 6 SON. PRINTED AT THE ESTES 
 PRESS, BY BERWICK & SMITH, BOSTON, U.S. I.
 
 m 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 As it is Mr. Waterton's opinion that ravens are 
 gradually becoming extinct in England, I offer a 
 few words here about mine. 
 
 The raven in this story is a compound of two 
 great originals, of whom I have been, at different 
 times, the proud possessor. The first was in the 
 bloom of his youth, when he was discovered in a 
 modest retirement in London by a friend of mine, 
 and given to me. He had from the first, as Sir 
 Hugh Evans says of Anne Page, "good gifts," 
 which he improved by study and attention in a 
 most exemplary manuer. He slept in a stable — 
 generally on horseback — and so terrified a New- 
 foundland dog by his preternatural sagacity, that he 
 has been known, by the mere superiority of his 
 genius, to walk off unmolested with the dog's 
 dinner before his face. He was rapidly rising in 
 acquirements and virtues, when, in an evil hour, his 
 stable was newly painted. He observed the work- 
 men closely, saw that they were careful of the paint, 
 
 iii
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 and immediately burned to possess it. On their 
 going to dinner, he ate up all they had left behind, 
 consisting of a pound or two of white-lead ; and 
 this youthful indiscretion terminated in death. 
 
 While I was yet inconsolable for his loss, another 
 friend of mine in Yorkshire discovered an older and 
 more gifted raven at a village public-house, which he 
 prevailed upon the landlord to part with for a con- 
 sideration, and sent up to me. The first act of this 
 Sage was, to administer to the effects of his prede- 
 cessor by disinterring all the cheese and halfpence 
 he had buried in the garden — a work of immense 
 labor and research, to which he devoted all the 
 energies of his mind. "When he had achieved this 
 task, he applied himself to the acquisition of stable 
 langmige, in which he soon became such an adept, 
 that he would perch outside my window, and drive 
 imaginary horses with great skill, all day. Perhaps 
 even I never saw him at his best, for his former 
 master sent his duty with him, " and if I wished 
 the bird to come out very strong, would I be so 
 good as show him a drunken man ? " — which I 
 r did, having (unfortunately) none but sober 
 people at hand. But I could hardly have respected 
 him more, whatever the stimulating influences of 
 this sight might have been. He had not the least 
 respect, I am sorry to say, for me in return, or for 
 anybody l>ut the cook; to whom he was attached — 
 but only. I fear, as a Policeman might have been. 
 Once, I met him unexpectedly, about. a half a mile
 
 PKEFACE. V 
 
 off, walking down the middle of the public street, 
 attended by a pretty large crowd, and spontane- 
 ously exhibiting the whole of his accomplishments. 
 His gravity under those trying circumstances I 
 never can forget, nor the extraordinary gallantry 
 with which, refusing to be brought home, he de- 
 fended himself behind a pump until overpowered 
 by numbers. It may have been that he was too 
 bright a genius to live long, or it may have been 
 that he took some pernicious substance into his bill, 
 and thence into his maw — which is not improbable, 
 seeing that he new-pointed the greater part of the 
 garden wall by digging out the mortar, broke count- 
 less squares of glass by scraping away the putty all 
 round the frames, and tore up and swallowed, in 
 splinters, the greater part of a wooden staircase of 
 six steps and a landing — but after some three years 
 he too was taken ill, and died before the kitchen 
 fire. He kept his eye to the last upon the meat as 
 it roasted, and suddenly turned over on his back 
 with a sepulchral cry of " Cuckoo ! " 
 
 After this mournful deprivation, I was, for a long 
 time, ravenless. The kindness of another friend at 
 length provided me with another raven ; but he is 
 not a genius. He leads the life of a hermit in my 
 little orchard, on the summit of Shakespeare's 
 Gad's Hill ; he has no relish for society ; he gives 
 no evidence of ever cultivating his mind; and he 
 has picked up nothing but meat since I have known 
 him — except the faculty of barking like a dog.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 Of the story of Barnaby Rudge itself, I do not 
 think I can say anything here more to the purpose 
 than the following passages from the original Pref- 
 ace : — 
 
 " No account of the Gordon Riots having been to 
 my knowledge introduced into any Work of Fiction, 
 and the subject presenting very extraordinary and 
 remarkable features, I was led to project this Tale. 
 
 " It is unnecessary to say, that those shameful 
 tumults, while they reflect indelible disgrace upon 
 the time in which they occurred, and all who had 
 act or part in them, teach a good lesson. That 
 what we falsely call a religious cry is easily raised 
 by men who have no religion, and who in their daily 
 practice set at naught the commonest principles of 
 right and wrong ; that it is begotten of intolerance 
 and persecution ; that it is senseless, besotted, invet- 
 erate, and unmerciful ; all History teaches us. But 
 perhaps we do not know it in our hearts too well to 
 profit by even so humble an example as the 'No 
 Popery ' Riots of Seventeen Hundred and Eighty. 
 
 "However imperfectly those disturbances are set 
 forth in the following pages, they are impartially 
 painted by one who has no sympathy with the 
 Romish Church, although he acknowledges, as 
 most men do, some esteemed friends among the 
 followers of its creed. 
 
 ••It may be observed that, in the description of 
 the principal outrages, reference has been had to
 
 PREFACE. VU 
 
 the best authorities of that time, such as they are ; 
 and that the account given in this Tale, of all the 
 main features of the Riots, is substantially correct. 
 
 " It may be further remarked, that Mr. Dennis's 
 allusions to the flourishing condition of his trade in 
 those days have their foundation in Truth, and not 
 in the Author's fancy. Any file of old Newspapers, 
 or odd volume of the Annual Register, will prove 
 this with terrible ease. 
 
 "Even the case of Mary Jones, dwelt upon with 
 so much pleasure by the same character, is no effort 
 of invention. The facts were stated, exactly as they 
 are stated here, in the House of Commons. Whether 
 they afforded as much entertainment to the merry 
 gentlemen assembled there, as some other most af- 
 fecting circumstances of a similar nature mentioned 
 by Sir Samuel Romilly, is not recorded." 
 
 That the case of Mary Jones may speak the more 
 emphatically for itself, I now subjoin it, as related 
 by Sir William Meredith in a speech in Parlia- 
 ment, " on Frequent Executions," made in 1777 : — 
 
 " Under this act," the Shop-lifting Act, " one 
 Mary Jones was executed, whose case I shall just 
 mention ; it was at the time when press-warrants 
 were issued, on the alarm about Falkland Islands. 
 The woman's husband was pressed, their goods 
 seized for some debts of his, and she, with two 
 small children, turned into the streets a begging. 
 It is a circumstance not to be forgotten, that she
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 was very young (under nineteen), and most remark- 
 ably handsome. She went to a linendraper's shop, 
 took some coarse linen off the counter, and slipped 
 it under her cloak ; the shopman saw her, and she 
 laid it down : for this she was hanged. Her defence 
 was (I have the trial in my pocket), < that she had 
 lived in credit, and wanted for nothing, till a press- 
 gang came and stole her husband from her; but, 
 since then, she had no bed to lie on ; nothing to 
 give her children to eat; and they were almost 
 naked ; and perhaps she might have done some- 
 thing wrong, for she hardly knew what she did.' 
 The parish officers testified the truth of this story ,• 
 but it seems there had been a good deal of shop- 
 lifting about Ludgate ; an example was thought 
 necessary; and this woman was hanged for the 
 comfort and satisfaction of shop-keepers in Lud- 
 gate Street. When brought to receive sentence, 
 she behaved in such a frantic manner as proved 
 her mind to be in a distracted and desponding 
 state; and the child was sucking at her breast 
 when she set out for Tyburn."
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Portrait of Dickens [Mt. 29). From a Drawing 
 
 by Alfred Count D'Orsay, 1841 . . Title Page 
 
 The Maypole 1 
 
 Mr. Willet and his Cronies stare at the 
 
 Stranger 7 
 
 The Stranger leaves the Maypole 25 
 
 Barnaby and Varden examine the Wounded 
 
 Man 42 
 
 " Why, what the Devil's the Matter with the 
 
 Lad!" 57 
 
 Sim walked up and down, with Folded Arms . 59 
 
 Mr. Varden questions Edward Chester ... 75 
 
 The Secret Society of 'Prentice Knights . . 90 
 
 "I don't go to Bed this Night!" said Miggs . 108 
 
 The Maypole's Best Apartment 110 
 
 Hugh, sleeping, lay stretched upon the Bench, 128 
 
 The Maypole 145 
 
 Mr. Haredale and Edward Chester 103 
 
 " Ned is amazingly Patient! " said Mr. Chester, 109 
 
 A House in Old London 183 
 
 "He flaps his Wings as if there were Stran- 
 gers here " 190 
 
 "Obey then!" said Mr. Tappertit, haughtily, 209 
 
 ix
 
 X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dolly brings Emma a Letter from Edward . . 22S 
 
 Hugh meets Dolly in the Path 236 
 
 The Maypole's own State Couch 256 
 
 "i drink to the drink, master " 265 
 
 Mr. Chester about to take his Seat in the 
 
 Chair 270 
 
 Mbs. Ki i)i. e and Mr. Haredale on her Depar- 
 ture 286 
 
 John, fast asleep in his Cosey Bar 291 
 
 Mr. Chester calls on the Yardens 308 
 
 Miss IIaredale's Usual Walk 332 
 
 " You're the Boy, Sir " 344 
 
 Joe and Dolly just as he departs 360 
 
 ''You have had a Cool Dismissal, have you?". 367 
 
 Solomon Daisy dashes into the Room .... 379 
 
 " Willet, why do you bring that Fellow here? " 390 
 
 Lord George and Party stop at the Maypole, 402 
 
 High enters Gashford's Room 431 
 
 No-Popery Dance 439 
 
 Mr. Tappertit discovers an Old Acquaintance, 443 
 
 Mi:. Tappertit makes a Speech 446 
 
 Mr. Vaijden dressing for the Royal East 
 
 London Volunteers' Parade 475

 
 BAK^ABY EUDGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In the year 1775 there stood upon the borders of 
 Epping Forest, at a distance of about twelve miles 
 from London — measuring from the Standard in 
 Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or near to which 
 the Standard used to be in days of yore — a house 
 of public entertainment called the Maypole ; which 
 fact was demonstrated to all such travellers as could 
 neither read nor write (and sixty-six years ago a 
 vast number both of travellers and stay-at-homes 
 were in this condition) by the emblem reared on the 
 roadside over against the house, which, if not of 
 those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont 
 to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, 
 thirty feet in height, and straight as any arrow that 
 ever English yeoman drew. 
 
 The Maypole — by which term from henceforth 
 is meant the house, and not its sign — the Maypole 
 was an old building, with more gable-ends than a 
 lazy man would care to count on a sunny day ; huge 
 zigzag chimneys, out of which it seemed as though 
 even smoke could not choose but come in more than 
 naturally fantastic shapes, imparted to it in its tor- 
 vol. I.-1. 1
 
 2 BARXABY RTTDGE. 
 
 tuous progress ; and vast stables, gloomy, ruinous, 
 and empty. The place was said to have been built 
 in the days of King Henry the Eighth ; and there 
 was a legend, not only that Queen Elizabeth had 
 slept there one night while upon a hunting excursion, 
 to .wit, in a certain oak-panelled room with a deep 
 bay-window, but that next morning, while standing 
 on a mounting block before the door with one foot 
 in the stirrup, the virgin monarch had then and 
 there boxed and cuffed an unlucky page for some 
 neglect of duty. The matter-of-fact and doubtful 
 folks, of whom there Avere a few among the May- 
 pole customers, as unluckily there always are in 
 every little community, were inclined to look upon 
 this tradition as rather apocryphal ; but, whenever 
 the landlord of that ancient hostelry appealed to the 
 mounting block itself as evidence, and triumphantly 
 pointed out that there it stood in the same place to 
 that very day, the doubters never failed to be put 
 down by a large majority, and all true believers ex- 
 ulted as in a victory. 
 
 Whether these, and many other stories of the like 
 nut urc, were true or untrue, the Maypole was really 
 an old house, a very old house, perhaps as old as it 
 claimed to he, and perhaps older, which will some- 
 timea happen with houses of an uncertain, as with 
 Ladies "I a certain, ;ige. Its windows were old dia- 
 mond-pane lattices, its floors were sunken and un- 
 even, its ceilings blackened by the hand of time and 
 heavy with massive beams. Over the doorway was 
 an ancient porch, quaintly and grotesquely carved ; 
 and here on summer evenings the more favored cus- 
 tomers smoked and drank — ay, and sang many a 
 good song too, sometimes — reposing on two grim-
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 3 
 
 looking high-backed settles, which, like the twin 
 dragons of some fairy tale, guarded the entrance to 
 the mansion. 
 
 In the chimneys of the disused rooms swallows 
 had built their nests for many a long year, and from 
 earliest spring to latest autumn whole colonies-of 
 sparrows chirped and twittered in the eaves. There 
 were more pigeons about the dreary stable-yard and 
 outbuildings than anybody but the landlord could 
 reckon up. The wheeling and circling flights of 
 runts, fantails, tumblers, and pouters were perhaps 
 not quite consistent with the grave and sober char- 
 acter of the building, but the monotonous cooing, 
 which never ceased to be raised by some among 
 them all day long, suited it exactly, and seemed to 
 lull it to rest. With its overhanging stories, drowsy 
 little panes of glass, and front bulging out and pro- 
 jecting over the pathway, the old house looked as if 
 it were nodding in its sleep. Indeed, it needed no 
 very great stretch of fancy to detect in it other re- 
 semblances to humanity. The bricks of which it 
 was built had originally been a deep dark red, but 
 had grown yellow and discolored like an old man's 
 skin ; the sturdy timbers had decayed like teeth ; 
 and here and there the ivy, like a warm garment to 
 comfort it in its age, wrapped its green leaves 
 closely round the time-worn walls. 
 
 It was a hale and hearty age, though, still : and 
 in the summer or autumn evenings, when the glow 
 of the setting sun fell upon the oak and chestnut 
 trees of the adjacent forest, the old house, partak- 
 ing of its lustre, seemed their fit companion, and to 
 have many good years of life in him yet. 
 
 The evening with which we have to do was
 
 4 BAI1XAI5Y EUDGE. 
 
 neither a summer nor an autumn one, but the twi- 
 light of a day in March, when the wind howled 
 dismally among the bare branches of the trees, and 
 rumbling in the wide chimneys and driving the rain 
 against the windows of the Maypole Inn, gave such 
 of its frequenters as chanced to be there at the 
 moment an undeniable reason for prolonging their 
 stay, and caused the landlord to prophesy that the 
 night would certainly clear at eleven o'clock pre- 
 cisely, — which, by a remarkable coincidence, was 
 the hour at which he always closed his house. 
 
 The name of him upon whom the spirit of 
 prophecy thus descended was John Willet, a burly, 
 large-headed man with a fat face, which betokened 
 profound obstinacy and slowness of apprehension, 
 combined with a very strong reliance upon his own 
 merits. It was John Willet's ordinary boast, in his 
 more placid moods, that if he were slow he was 
 sure ; which assertion could, in one sense at least, 
 be by no means gainsaid, seeing that he was in 
 everything unquestionably the reverse of fast, and 
 withal one of the most dogged and positive fellows 
 in existence — always sure that what he thought or 
 said or did was right, and holding it as a thing quite 
 settled and ordained by the laws of nature and Provi- 
 dence, that anybody who said or did or thought 
 otherwise must be inevitably and of necessity 
 wrong. 
 
 Mr. Willet walked slowly up to the window, 
 flattened Ins fat nose against the cold glass, and, 
 shading his eyes that his sight might not be af- 
 tt cfced by the ruddy glow of the fire, looked abroad. 
 Then he walked slowly back to his old seat in the 
 chimney-corner, and, composing himself in it with a
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 5 
 
 slight shiver, such as a man might give way to, and 
 so acquire an additional relish for the warm blaze, 
 said, looking round upon his guests, — 
 
 " It'll clear at eleven o'clock. No sooner and no 
 later. Not before and not arterwards." 
 
 " How do you make out that ? " said a little man 
 in the opposite corner. " The moon is past the full, 
 and she rises at nine." 
 
 John looked sedately and solemnly at his ques- 
 tioner until he had brought his mind to bear upon 
 the whole of his observation, and then made answer, 
 in a tone which seemed to imply that the moon was 
 peculiarly his business and nobody else's, — 
 
 " Never you mind about the moon. Don't you 
 trouble yourself about her. You let the moon alone, 
 and I'll let you alone." 
 
 " No offence I hope ? " said the little man. 
 
 Again John waited leisurely until the observation 
 had thoroughly penetrated to his brain, and then 
 replying, " No offence as yet" applied a light to his 
 pipe and smoked in placid silence ; now and then 
 casting a sidelong look at a man wrapped in a loose 
 riding-coat with huge cuffs ornamented with tar- 
 nished silver lace and large metal buttons, who sat 
 apart from the regular frequenters of the house, and 
 wearing a hat flapped over his face, which was still 
 further shaded by the hand on which his forehead 
 rested, looked unsociable enough. 
 
 There was another guest, who sat, booted and 
 spurred, at some distance from the fire also, and 
 whose thoughts — to judge from his folded arms 
 and knitted brows, and from the untasted liquor 
 before him — were occupied with other matters than 
 the topics under discussion or the persons who dis-
 
 6 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 cussed them. This was a young man of about eight 
 and twenty, rather above the middle height, and 
 though of a somewhat slight figure, gracefully and 
 strongly made. He wore his own dark hair, and 
 was accoutred in a riding-dress, which, together with 
 his large boots (resembling in shape and fashion 
 those worn by our Life Guardsmen at the present 
 day), showed indisputable traces of the bad con- 
 dition of the roads. But travel-stained though 
 he was, he was well and even richly attired, and, 
 without being overdressed, looked a gallant gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Lying upon the table beside him, as he had care- 
 lessly thrown them down, were a heavy riding-whip 
 and a slouched hat, the latter worn, no doubt, as 
 being best suited to the inclemency of the weather. 
 There, too, were a pair of pistols in a holster case, 
 and a short riding-cloak. Little of his face was 
 visible, except the long dark lashes which concealed 
 his downcast eyes, but an air of careless ease and 
 natural gracefulness of demeanor pervaded the 
 figure, and seemed to comprehend even these slight, 
 accessories, which were all handsome, and in good 
 keeping. 
 
 Towards this young gentleman the eyes of Mr. 
 Willel wandered but once, and then as if in mute 
 inquiry whether he had observed his silent neigh- 
 bor. It was plain that John and the young gentle- 
 nun had often met before. Finding that his look 
 qo1 returned, or indeed observed by the person 
 to whom it was addressed, John gradually concen- 
 trated the whole power of his eyes into one focus, 
 and brought it to bear upon the man in the flapped 
 hit, at whom he came to stare in course of time
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 7 
 
 with an intensity so remarkable, that it affected his 
 fireside cronies, who all, as with one accord, took 
 their pipes from their lips, and stared with open 
 mouths at the stranger likewise. 
 
 The sturdy landlord had a large pair of dull fish- 
 like eyes, and the little man who had hazarded the 
 remark about the moon (and who was the parish 
 clerk and bell-ringer of Chigwell ; a village hard 
 by), had little round black shiny eyes like beads ; 
 moreover, this little man wore at the knees of his 
 rusty black breeches, and on his rusty black coat, 
 and all down his long flapped waistcoat, little queer 
 buttons like nothing except his eyes ; but so like 
 them, that as they twinkled and glistened in the 
 light of the fire, which shone too in his bright shoe- 
 buckles, he seemed all eyes from head to foot, and 
 to be gazing with every one of them at the unknown 
 customer. No wonder that a man should grow rest- 
 less under such an inspection as this, to say nothing 
 of the eyes belonging to short Tom Cobb the general 
 chandler and post-office keeper, and long Phil Parkes 
 the ranger, both of whom, infected by the example 
 of their companions, regarded him of the flapped 
 hat no less attentively. 
 
 The stranger became restless ; perhaps from being 
 exposed to this raking fire of eyes, perhaps from 
 the nature of his previous meditations — most 
 probably from the latter cause, for, as he changed 
 his position and looked hastily round, he started to 
 find himself the object of such keen regard, and 
 darted an angry and suspicious glance at the fireside 
 group. It had the effect of immediately diverting 
 all eyes to the chimney, except those of John Willet, 
 who, finding himself, as it were, caught in the fact,
 
 8 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 and not being (as has been already observed) of a 
 very ready nature, remained staring at his guest in 
 a particularly awkward and disconcerted manner. 
 
 " Well ? " said the stranger. 
 
 Well. There was not much in well. It was not 
 a long speech. "I thought you gave an order," 
 said the landlord, after. a pause of two or three 
 minutes for consideration. 
 
 The stranger took off his hat, and disclosed the 
 hard features of a man of sixty or thereabouts, much 
 weather-beaten and worn by time, and the naturally 
 harsh expression of which was not improved by a 
 dark handkerchief which was bound tightly round 
 his head, and. while it served the purpose of a wig, 
 shaded his forehead, and almost hid his eyebrows. 
 If it were intended to conceal or divert attention 
 from a deep gash, now healed into an ugh- seam, 
 which when it was first inflicted must have laid bare 
 his cheek-bone, the object was but indifferently 
 attained, for it could scarcely fail to be noted at a 
 glance. His complexion was of a cadaverous hue, 
 and he had a grizzly jagged beard of some three 
 weeks' date. Such was the figure (very meanly and 
 poorly clad) that now rose from the seat, and stalk- 
 ing across the room, sat down in a corner of the 
 chimney, which the politeness or fears of the little 
 clerk vitv readily assigned to him. 
 
 • A highwayman ! " whispered Tom Cobb to 
 Parkes the ranger. 
 
 " Do you suppose highwaymen don't dress hand- 
 
 Bomei than that?" replied Parkes. "It's a better 
 
 business than you think for, Tom, and highwaymen 
 
 don't Deed or use to be Bhabby, take my word for it." 
 
 Meanwhile, the subject of their speculations had
 
 BAENABY EUDGE. 9 
 
 done due honor to the house by calling for some 
 drink, which was promptly supplied by the land- 
 lord's son, Joe, a broad-shouldered strapping young 
 fellow of twenty, whom it pleased his father still to 
 consider a little boy, and to treat accordingly. 
 Stretching out his hands to warm them by the 
 blazing fire, the man turned his head towards the 
 company, and after running his eye sharply over 
 them, said in a voice well suited to his appearance, — 
 
 " What house is that which stands a mile or so 
 from here ? " 
 
 " Public-house ? " said the landlord, with his usual 
 deliberation. 
 
 " Public-house, father ! " exclaimed Joe. " Where's 
 the public-house within a mile or so of the May- 
 pole ? He means the great house — the Warren — 
 naturally and of course. The old red-brick house, 
 sir, that stands in its own grounds — " 
 
 " Ay," said the stranger. 
 
 " And that fifteen or twenty years ago stood in a 
 park five times as broad, which, with other and 
 richer property, has bit by bit changed hands and 
 dwindled away — more's the pity!" pursued the 
 young man. 
 
 "Maybe," was the reply. "But my question 
 related to the owner. What it has been I don't 
 care to know, and what it is I can see for myself." 
 
 The heir-apparent to the Maypole pressed his 
 finger on his lips, and glancing at the young gentle- 
 man already noticed, who had changed his attitude 
 when the house was first mentioned, replied in a 
 lower tone, — 
 
 "The owner's name is Haredale, Mr. Geoffrey Hare- 
 dale, and " — again he glanced in the same direc-
 
 10 UAKNAIiY EUDGE. 
 
 tion as before — "and a worthy gentleman too — 
 hem : ■■ 
 
 Paving as little regard to this admonitory cough 
 as to the significant gesture that had preceded it, the 
 stranger pursued his questioning. 
 
 " I turned out of my way coming here, and took 
 the footpath that crosses the grounds. Who was the 
 young lady that I saw entering a carriage ? His 
 daughter ? " 
 
 " Why, how should I know, honest man ? " replied 
 Joe, contriving, in the course of some arrangements 
 about the hearth, to advance close to his questioner 
 and pluck him by the sleeve. " I didn't see the 
 young lady you know. Whew ! There's the wind 
 again — and rain. Well, it is a night!" 
 
 " Rough weather indeed ; " observed the strange 
 man. 
 
 "You're used to it?" said Joe, catching at 
 anything which seemed to promise a diversion of 
 the subject. 
 
 " Pretty well," returned the other. " About the 
 young lady — Has Mr. Haredale a daughter ? " 
 
 •■ No, no," said the young fellow fretfully, "he's a 
 single gentleman — he's — be quiet, can't you, man ? 
 Don't you see this talk is not relished yonder ? " 
 
 Regardless of this whispered remonstrance, and 
 affecting not to hear it, his tormentor provokingly 
 continued : — 
 
 "Single men have had daughters before now. 
 Perhaps she may be his daughter, though he is not 
 married." 
 
 "Whal do you mean?" said Joe, adding in an 
 undertone, as he approached him again, "You'll 
 come in for it presently, I know you will!"
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 11 
 
 "I mean no harm," returned the traveller boldly, 
 " and have said none that I know of. I ask a few 
 questions — as any stranger may, and not unnatu- 
 rally — about the inmates of a remarkable house in 
 a neighborhood which is new to me, and you are 
 as aghast and disturbed as if I were talking treason 
 against King George. Perhaps you can tell me why, 
 sir, for (as I say) I am a stranger, and this is Greek 
 to me ? " 
 
 The latter observation was addressed to the obvi- 
 ous cause of Joe Willet's discomposure, who had 
 risen and was adjusting his riding-cloak preparatory 
 to sallying abroad. Briefly replying that he could 
 give him no information, the young man beckoned 
 to Joe, and handing him a piece of money in pay- 
 ment of his reckoning, hurried out, attended by 
 young Willet himself, who, taking up a candle, fol- 
 lowed to light him to the house door. 
 
 While Joe was absent on this errand, the elder 
 "Willet and his three companions continued to smoke 
 with profound gravity, and in a deep silence, each 
 having his eyes fixed on a huge copper boiler that was 
 suspended over the fire. After some time John Wil- 
 let slowly shook his head, and thereupon his friends 
 slowly shook theirs ; but no man withdrew his eyes 
 from the boiler, or altered the solemn expression of 
 his countenance in the slightest degree. 
 
 At length Joe returned — very talkative and con- 
 ciliatory, as though with a strong presentiment that 
 he was going to be found fault with. 
 
 " Such a thing as love is ! " he said, drawing a 
 chair near the fire, and looking round for sympathy. 
 " He has set off to walk to London, — all the way to 
 London. His nag gone lame in riding out here this
 
 12 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 blessed afternoon, and comfortably littered down in 
 our stable at this minute ; and he giving up a good 
 hot supper and our best bed, because Miss Haredale 
 has gone to a masquerade up in town, and he has 
 set his heart upon seeing her ! I don't think I could 
 persuade myself to do that, beautiful as she is, — 
 but then I'm not in love (at least I don't think I 
 am), and that's the Avhole difference." 
 
 "He is in love then ? " said the stranger. 
 
 " Rather," replied Joe. " He'll never be more in 
 love, and may very easily be less." 
 
 " Silence, sir ! " cried his father. 
 
 " What a chap you are, Joe ! " said Long Parkes. 
 
 " Such a inconsiderate lad ! " murmured Tom 
 Cobb. 
 
 " Putting himself forward and wringing the very 
 nose off his own father's face ! " exclaimed the par- 
 ish clerk metaphorically. 
 
 "What have I done ? " reasoned poor Joe. 
 
 " Silence, sir ! " returned his father. " What do 
 you mean by talking, when you see people that are 
 more than two or three times your age, sitting still 
 and silent, and not dreaming of saying a word ? " 
 
 " Why that's the proper time for me to talk, 
 isn't it ? " said Joe rebelliously. 
 
 " The proper time, sir," retorted his father ; "the 
 proper time's no time." 
 
 "Ah, to be sure!" muttered Parkes, nodding 
 gravely to the other two, who nodded likewise, ob- 
 serving under their breaths that that was the point. 
 
 "The proper time's no time, sir," repeated John 
 Willet ; " when I was your age I never talked, I 
 never wanted to talk. I listened and improved 
 myself, that's what / did."
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 13 
 
 " And you'd find your father rather a tough cus- 
 tomer in argeyment, Joe, if anybody was to try and 
 tackle him," said Parkes. 
 
 " For the matter o' that, Phil," observed Mr. Wil- 
 let, blowing a long thin, spiral cloud of smoke out 
 of the corner of his mouth, and staring at it abstract- 
 edly as it floated away ; " for the matter o' that, 
 Phil, argeyment is a gift of Natur. If Natur has 
 gifted a man with powers of argeyment, a man has 
 a right to make the best of 'em, and has not a right 
 to stand on false delicacy, and deny that he is so 
 gifted ; for that is a turning of his back on Natur, a 
 flouting of her, a slighting of her precious caskets, 
 and a proving of one's self to be a swine that isn't 
 worth her scattering pearls before." 
 
 The landlord pausing here for a very long time, 
 Mr. Parkes naturally concluded that he had brought 
 his discourse to an end; and therefore, turning to the 
 young man with some austerity, exclaimed, — 
 
 " You hear what your father says, Joe ? You 
 wouldn't much like to tackle him in argeyment, I'm 
 thinking, sir." 
 
 " — If," said John Willet, turning his eyes from 
 the ceiling to the face of his interrupter, and uttering 
 the monosyllable in capitals, to apprise him that he 
 had put in his oar, as the vulgar say, with unbecom- 
 ing and irreverent haste ; " If, sir, Natur has fixed 
 upon me the gift of argeyment, why should I not 
 own to it, and rather glory in the same ? Yes, sir, 
 I am. a tough customer that way. You are right, 
 sir. My toughness has been proved, sir, in this 
 room many and many a time, as I think you know ; 
 and if you don't know," added John, putting his pipe 
 in his mouth again, " so much the better, for I ain't 
 proud, and am not going to tell you."
 
 14 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 A general murmur from his three cronies, and a 
 general shaking of heads at the copper boiler, 
 assured John Willet that they had had good experi- 
 ence of his powers, and needed no further evidence 
 to assure them of his superiority. John smoked 
 with a little more dignity, and surveyed them in 
 silence. 
 
 " It's all very fine talking," muttered Joe, who had 
 been fidgeting in his chair with divers uneasy ges- 
 tures. " But if you mean to tell me that I'm never 
 to open my lips — " 
 
 " Silence, sir ! " roared his father. " No, you 
 never are. When your opinion's wanted, you give 
 it. When you're spoke to, you speak. When your 
 opinion's not wanted, and you're not spoke to, don't 
 you give an opinion, and don't you speak. The 
 world's undergone a nice alteration since my time, 
 certainly. My belief is that there ain't any boys left 
 — that there isn't such a thing as a boy — that there's 
 nothing now between a male baby and a man — and 
 that all the boys went out with his blessed Majesty 
 King George the Second." 
 
 " That's a very true observation, always excepting 
 the young princes," said the parish clerk, who, as 
 the representative of church and state in that com- 
 pany, held himself bound to the nicest loyalty. "If 
 it's godly and righteous for boys, being of the ages 
 of boys, to behave themselves like boys, then the 
 young princes must be boys, and cannot be other- 
 wise." 
 
 " Did you ever hear tell of mermaids, sir ? " said 
 Mr. Willet. 
 
 " Certainly I have," replied the clerk. 
 
 "Very good," said Mr. Willet. "According to
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 15 
 
 the constitution of mermaids, so much of a mermaid 
 as is not a woman must be a fish. According to the 
 constitution of young princes, so much of a young 
 prince (if anything) as is not actually an angel, 
 must be godly and righteous. Therefore, if it's 
 becoming and godly and righteous in the young 
 princes (as it is at their ages) that they should be 
 boys, they are and must be boys, and cannot by 
 possibility be anything else." 
 
 This elucidation of a knotty point being received 
 with such marks of approval as to put John Willet 
 into a good humor, he contented himself with re- 
 peating to his son his command of silence, and 
 addressing the stranger, said, — 
 
 " If you had asked your questions of a grown-up 
 person — of me or any of these gentlemen — you'd 
 have had some satisfaction, and wouldn't have 
 wasted breath. Miss Haredale is Mr. Geoffrey 
 Haredale's niece." 
 
 " Is her father alive ? " said the man carelessly. 
 
 "No," rejoined the landlord, "he is not alive, and 
 he is not dead — " 
 
 " Not dead ! " cried the other. 
 
 " Not dead in a common sort of way," said the 
 landlord. 
 
 The cronies nodded to each other, and Mr. Parkes 
 remarked in an undertone, shaking his head mean- 
 while as who should say, " Let no man contradict me, 
 for I won't believe him," that John Willet was in 
 amazing force to-night, and fit to tackle a Chief 
 Justice. 
 
 The stranger suffered a short pause to elapse, and 
 then asked abruptly, " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " More than you think for, friend," returned John
 
 16 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Willet. "Perhaps there's more meaning in them 
 words than you suspect." 
 
 " Perhaps there is," said the strange man gruffly ; 
 " but what the devil do you speak in such mysteries 
 for ? You tell me, first, that a man is not alive, nor 
 yet dead — then, that he's not dead in a common 
 sort of way — then, that you mean a great deal 
 more than I think for. To tell you the truth, you 
 may do that easily ; for, so far as I can make out, 
 you mean nothing. What do you mean, I ask 
 again ? " 
 
 "That," returned the landlord, a little brought 
 down from his dignity by the stranger's surliness, 
 " is a Maypole story, and has been any time these 
 four and twenty years. That story is Solomon 
 Daisy's story. It belongs to the house ; and nobody 
 but Solomon Daisy has ever told it under this roof, 
 or ever shall — that's more." 
 
 The man glanced at the parish clerk, whose air of 
 consciousness and importance plainly betokened him 
 to be the person referred to, and observing that he 
 had taken his pipe from his lips, after a very long 
 whiff to keep it alight, and was evidently about to 
 tell his story without further solicitation, gathered 
 Lis large coat about him, and shrinking farther back, 
 was almost lost in the gloom of the spacious chim- 
 ney-corner, except when the flame, straggling from 
 under a great fagot whose weight almost crushed it 
 for the time, shot upward with a strong and sudden 
 glare, and illumining his figure for a moment, seemed 
 afterwards to cast it into deeper obscurity than 
 before. 
 
 By this flickering light, which made the old room, 
 with its heavy timbers and panelled Avails, look
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 17 
 
 as if it were built of polished ebony — the wind 
 roaring and howling without, now rattling the latch 
 and creaking the hinges of the stout oaken door, 
 and now driving at the casement as though it would 
 beat it in — by this light, and under circumstances 
 so auspicious, Solomon Daisy began his tale : — 
 
 "It was Mr. Reuben Haredale, Mr. Geoffrey's 
 elder brother — " 
 
 Here he came to a dead stop, and made so long a 
 pause that even John Willet grew impatient, and 
 asked why he did not proceed. 
 
 " Cobb," said Solomon Daisy, dropping his voice, 
 and appealing to the post-office keeper ; " what day 
 of the month is this ? " 
 
 " The nineteenth." 
 
 " Of March," said the clerk, bending forward, 
 " the nineteenth of March ; that's very strange." 
 
 In a low voice they all acquiesced, and Solomon 
 went on, — 
 
 "It was Mr. Reuben Haredale, Mr. Geoffrey's 
 elder brother, that twenty-two years ago was the 
 owner of the Warren, which, as Joe has said — not 
 that you remember it, Joe, for a boy like you can't 
 do that, but because you have often heard me say 
 so — was then a much larger and better place, and a 
 much more valuable property than it is now. His 
 lady was lately dead, and he was left with one child 
 
 — the Miss Haredale you have been inquiring about 
 
 — who was then scarcely a year old." 
 
 Although the speaker addressed himself to the 
 man who had shown so much curiosity about this 
 same family, and made a pause here as if expecting 
 some exclamation of surprise or encouragement, the 
 latter made no remark, nor gave any indication that 
 
 VOL. I.-2.
 
 18 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 he heard or was interested in what was said. 
 Solomon therefore turned to his old companions, 
 whose noses were brightly illuminated by the deep 
 red glow from the bowls of their pipes : assured, by 
 long experience, of their attention, and resolved to 
 show his sense of such indecent behavior. 
 
 " Mr. Haredale," said Solomon, turning his back 
 upon the strange man, " left this place when his lady 
 died, feeling it lonely like, and went up to London, 
 where he stopped some months ; but finding that 
 place as lonely as this — as I suppose, and have 
 always heard say — he suddenly came back again 
 with his little girl to the Warren, bringing with him 
 besides, that day, only two women servants, and his 
 steward and a gardener." 
 
 Mr. Daisy stopped to take a whiff at his pipe, 
 which was going out, and then proceeded — at first 
 in a snuffling tone, occasioned by keen enjoyment of 
 the tobacco and strong pulling at the pipe, and 
 afterwards with increasing distinctness : 
 
 " — Bringing with him two women servants, and 
 his steward and a gardener. The rest stopped 
 behind up in London, and were to follow next day. 
 It happened that that night, an old gentleman who 
 lived at Chigwell Row, and had long been poorly, 
 deceased, and an order came to me at half after 
 twelve o'clock at night to go and toll the passing- 
 bell." 
 
 There was a movement in the little group of 
 listeners, sufficiently indicative of the strong repug- 
 nance any one of them would have felt to have 
 turned out at such a time upon such an errand. The 
 clerk felt and understood it, and pursued his theme 
 accordingly : —
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 19 
 
 "It was a dreary thing, especially as the grave- 
 digger was laid up in his bed, from long working in 
 a damp soil, and sitting down to take his dinner on 
 cold tombstones, and I was consequently under 
 obligations to go alone, for it was too late to hope to 
 get any other companion. However, I wasn't unpre- 
 pared for it, as the old gentleman had often made it 
 a request that the bell should be tolled as soon as 
 possible after the breath was out of his body, and 
 he had been expected to go for some days. I put as 
 good a face upon it as I could, and muffling myself 
 up (for it was mortal cold), started out with a 
 lighted lantern in one hand, and the key of the 
 church in the other." 
 
 At this point of the narrative, the dress of the 
 strange man rustled as if he had turned himself to 
 hear more distinctly. Slightly pointing over his 
 shoulder, Solomon elevated his eyebrows, and 
 nodded a silent inquiry to Joe whether this was the 
 case. Joe shaded his eyes with his hand and peered 
 into the corner, but could make out nothing, and so 
 shook his head. 
 
 " It was just such a night as this ; blowing a hur- 
 ricane, raining heavily, and very dark — I often 
 think now, darker than I ever saw it before or since ; 
 that may be my fancy, but the houses were all close 
 shut, and the folks indoors, and perhaps there is 
 only one other man who knows how dark it really 
 was. I got into the church, chained the door back 
 so that it should keep ajar — for, to tell the truth, 
 I didn't like to be shut in there alone — and putting 
 my lantern on the stone seat in the little corner 
 where the bell-rope is, sat down beside it to trim the 
 candle.
 
 20 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " I sat down to trim the candle, and when I had 
 done so, I could not persuade myself to get up again 
 and go about my work. I don't know how it was, 
 but I thought of all the ghost stories I had ever 
 heard, even those that I had heard when I was a 
 boy at school, and had forgotten long ago ; and they 
 didn't come into my mind one after another, but all 
 crowding at once like. I recollected one story there 
 was in the village, how that on a certain night in 
 the year (it might be that very night for anything I 
 knew) all the dead people came out of the ground, 
 and sat at the heads of their own graves till morn- 
 ing. This made me think how many people I had 
 known were buried between the church-door and the 
 churchyard gate, and what a dreadful thing it would 
 be to have to pass among them and know them 
 again, so earthy and unlike themselves. I had 
 known all the niches and arches in the church from 
 a child ; still, I couldn't persuade myself that those 
 were their natural shadows which I saw on the pave- 
 ment, but felt sure there were some ugly figures 
 hiding among 'em and peeping out. Thinking on 
 in this way, I began to think of the old gentleman 
 who was just dead, and I could have sworn, as I 
 looked up the dark chancel, that I saw him in his 
 usual place, wrapping his shroud about him, and 
 shivering as if he felt it cold. All this time I sat 
 listening and listening, and hardly dared to breathe. 
 At length I started up, and took the bell-rope in my 
 hands. At that minute there rang — not that bell, 
 for I had hardly touched the rope — but another ! 
 
 " I heard the ringing of another bell, and a deep 
 bell too, plainly. It was only for an instant, and 
 even then the wind carried the sound awav, but I
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 21 
 
 heard it. I listened for a long time, but it rang no 
 more. I had heard of corpse candles, and at last I 
 persuaded myself that this must be a corpse bell 
 tolling of itself at midnight for the dead. I tolled 
 my bell — how, or how long, I don't know — and 
 ran home to bed as fast as I could touch the ground. 
 
 " I was up early next morning after a restless 
 night, and told the story to my neighbors. Some 
 were serious, and some made light of it : I don't 
 think anybody believed it real. But, that morning, 
 Mr. Reuben Haredale was found murdered in his bed- 
 chamber ; and in his hand was a piece of the cord 
 attached to an alarm bell outside the roof, which 
 hung in his room, and had been cut asunder, no 
 doubt by the murderer, when he seized it. 
 
 " That was the bell I heard. 
 
 "A bureau was found opened, and a cash-box, 
 which Mr. Haredale had brought down that day, 
 and was supposed to contain a large sum of money, 
 was gone. The steward and gardener were both 
 missing and both suspected for a long time, but they 
 were never found, though hunted far and wide. 
 And far enough they might have looked for poor 
 Mr. Rudge the steward, whose body — scarcely to 
 be recognized by his clothes and the watch and ring 
 he wore — was found, months afterwards, at the 
 bottom of a piece of water in the grounds, with a 
 deep gash in the breast where he had been stabbed 
 with a knife. He was only partly dressed ; and 
 people all agreed that he had been sitting up read- 
 ing in his own room, where there were many traces 
 of blood, and was suddenly fallen upon and killed 
 before his master. 
 
 " Everybody now knew that the gardener must
 
 22 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 be the murderer, and though he has never been 
 heard of from that time to this, he will be, mark 
 my words. The crime was committed this day two 
 and twenty years — on the nineteenth of March, 
 one thousand seven hundred and fifty-three. On 
 the nineteenth of March in some year — no matter 
 when — I know it, I am sure of it, for we have 
 always, in some strange way or other, been brought 
 back to the subject on that day ever since — on the 
 nineteenth of March in some year, sooner or later, 
 that man will be discovered."
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 " A strange story ! " said the man who had been 
 the cause of the narration. " Stranger still if it 
 comes about as you predict. Is that all ? " 
 
 A question so unexpected nettled Solomon Daisy 
 not a little. By dint of relating the story very 
 often, and ornamenting it (according to village 
 report) with a few flourishes suggested by the vari- 
 ous hearers from time to time, he had come by 
 degrees to tell it with great effect ; and " Is that 
 all ? " after the climax, was not what he was accus- 
 tomed to. 
 
 " Is that all ? " he repeated. " Yes, that's all, sir. 
 And enough, too, I think." 
 
 " I think so too. My horse, young man ! He is 
 but a hack hired from a roadside posting-house, but 
 he must carry me to London to-night." 
 
 " To-night ! " said Joe. 
 
 "To-night," returned the other. "What do you 
 stare at ? This tavern would seem to be a house of 
 call for all the gaping idlers of the neighborhood ! " 
 
 At this remark, which evidently had reference to 
 the scrutiny he had undergone, as mentioned in the 
 foregoing chapter, the eyes of John Willet and his 
 friends were diverted with marvellous rapidity to 
 the copper boiler again. Not so with Joe, who, 
 
 23
 
 24 BAENABY EUDGE. 
 
 being a mettlesome fellow, returned the stranger's 
 angry glance with a steady look, and rejoined, — 
 
 " It is not a very bold thing to wonder at your 
 going on to-night. Surely you have been asked such 
 a harmless question in an inn before, and in better 
 weather than this. I thought you mightn't know 
 the way, as you seem strange to this part." 
 
 "The way — " repeated the other irritably. 
 
 " Yes. Do you know it ? " 
 
 "I'll— humph! — I'll find it," replied the man, 
 waving his hand and turning on his heel. " Land- 
 lord, take the reckoning here." 
 
 John Willet did as he was desired ; for on that 
 point he was seldom slow, except in the particulars 
 of giving change, and testing the goodness of any 
 piece of coin that was proffered to him, by the appli- 
 cation of his teeth or his tongue, or some other test, 
 or, in doubtful cases, by a long series of tests termi- 
 nating in its rejection. The guest then wrapped his 
 garments about him so as to shelter himself as 
 effectually as he could from the rough weather, and 
 without any word or sign of farewell betook himself 
 to the stable-yard. Here Joe (who had left the 
 room on the conclusion of their short dialogue) was 
 protecting himself and the horse from the rain 
 under the shelter of an old pent-house roof. 
 
 " He's pretty much of my opinion," said Joe, pat- 
 ting the horse upon the neck. "I'll wager that 
 your stopping here to-night would please him better 
 than it would please me." 
 
 " He and I are of different opinions, as we have 
 been nunc than once on our way here," was the 
 short reply. 
 
 "So I was thinking before you came out, for he 
 has felt your spurs, poor beast."
 
 I 
 
 mm
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 25 
 
 The stranger adjusted his coat-collar about his 
 face, and made no answer. 
 
 " You'll know me again, I see," he said, marking 
 the young fellow's earnest gaze, when he had sprung 
 into the saddle. 
 
 " The man's worth knowing, master, who travels 
 a road he don't know, mounted on a jaded horse, 
 and leaves good quarters to do it on such a night as 
 this." 
 
 " You have sharp eyes and a sharp tongue I find." 
 
 " Both I hope by nature, but the last grows rusty 
 sometimes for want of using." 
 
 " Use the first less too, and keep their sharpness 
 for your sweethearts, boy," said the man. 
 
 So saying, he shook his hand from the bridle, 
 struck him roughly on the head with the but-end of 
 his whip, and galloped away ; dashing through the 
 mud and darkness with a headlong speed, which few 
 badly mounted horsemen would have cared to ven- 
 ture, even had they been thoroughly acquainted 
 with the country ; and which, to one who knew 
 nothing of the way he rode, was attended at every 
 step with great hazard and danger. 
 
 The roads, even within twelve miles of London, 
 were at that time ill-paved, seldom repaired, and 
 very badly made. The way this rider traversed had 
 been ploughed up by the wheels of heavy wagons, 
 and rendered rotten by the frosts and thaws of the 
 preceding winter, or possibly of many winters. 
 Great holes and gaps had been worn into the soil, 
 which, being now filled with water from the late 
 rains, were not easily distinguishable even by day ; 
 and a plunge into any one of them might have 
 brought down a surer-footed horse than the poor
 
 26 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 beast now urged forward to the utmost extent of 
 his powers. Sharp flints and stones rolled from 
 under his hoofs continually ; the rider could scarcely 
 see beyond the animal's head, or farther on either 
 side than his own arm would have extended. At 
 that time, too, all the roads in the neighborhood of 
 the metropolis were infested by footpads or high- 
 waymen, and it was a night, of all others, in which 
 any evil-disposed person of this class might have 
 pursued his unlawful calling with little fear of 
 detection. 
 
 Still the traveller dashed forward at the same 
 reckless pace, regardless alike of the dirt and wet 
 which flew about his head, the profound darkness of 
 the night, and the probability of encountering some 
 desperate characters abroad. At every turn and 
 angle, even where a deviation from the direct course 
 might have been least expected, and could not pos- 
 sibly be seen until he was close upon it, he guided 
 the bridle with an unerring hand, and kept the 
 middle of the road. Thus he sped onward, raising 
 himself in the stirrups, leaning his body forward, 
 until it almost touched the horse's neck, and flour- 
 ishing his heavy whip above his head with the 
 fervor of a madman. 
 
 There are times when, the elements being in 
 unusual commotion, those who are bent on daring 
 enterprises, or agitated by great thoughts, whether 
 of good or evil, feel a mysterious sympathy with the 
 tumult of nature, and are roused into corresponding 
 violence. In the midst of thunder, lightning, and 
 Storm, many tremendous deeds have been committed; 
 men, self-possessed before, have given a sudden 
 loose to passions they could no longer control. The
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 27 
 
 demons of wrath and despair have striven to emu- 
 late those who ride the whirlwind and direct the 
 storm ; and man, lashed into madness with the 
 roaring winds and boiling waters, has become for 
 the time as wild and merciless as the elements 
 themselves. 
 
 Whether the traveller was possessed by thoughts 
 which the fury of the night had heated and stimu- 
 lated into a quicker current, or was merely impelled 
 by some strong motive to reach his journey's end, 
 on he swept, more like a hunted phantom than a 
 man, nor checked his pace until, arriving at some 
 cross-roads, one of which led by a longer route to 
 the place whence he had lately started, he bore 
 down so suddenly upon a vehicle which was coming 
 towards him, that in the effort to avoid it he well- 
 nigh pulled his horse upon his haunches, and nar- 
 rowly escaped being thrown. 
 
 " Yoho ! " cried the voice of a man. " What's 
 that ? Who goes there ? " 
 
 " A friend ! " replied the traveller. 
 
 " A friend ! " repeated the voice. " Who calls 
 himself a friend and rides like that, abusing 
 Heaven's gifts in the shape of horseflesh, and 
 endangering, not only his own neck (which might 
 be no great matter), but the necks of other people ? " 
 
 " You have a lantern there, I see," said the trav- 
 eller, dismounting ; " lend it me for a moment. 
 You have wounded my horse, I think, with your 
 shaft or wheel." 
 
 " Wounded him ! " cried the other ; "if I haven't 
 killed him, it's no fault of yours. What do you 
 mean by galloping along the king's highway like 
 that, eh ? "
 
 28 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 "Give me the light," returned the traveller, 
 snatching it from his hand, " and don't ask idle 
 questions of a man who is in no mood for talking.'' 
 
 " If you had said you were in no mood for talking 
 before, I should perhaps have been in no mood for 
 lighting," said the voice. " Hows'ever, as it's the 
 poor horse that's damaged, and not you, one of you 
 is welcome to the light at all events — but it's not 
 the crusty one." 
 
 The traveller returned no answer to this speech, 
 but holding the light near to his panting and reek- 
 ing beast, examined him in limb and carcass. Mean- 
 while, the other man sat very composedly in his 
 vehicle, which was a kind of chaise with a deposi- 
 tory for a large bag of tools, and watched his pro- 
 ceedings with a careful eye. 
 
 The looker-on was a round, red-faced, sturdy yeo- 
 man, with a double chin, and a voice husky with 
 good living, good sleeping, good humor, and good 
 health. He was past the prime of life, but Father 
 Time is not always a hard parent, and, though he 
 tarries for none of his children, often lays Ins hand 
 lightly upon those who have used him well ; making 
 them old men and women inexorably enough, but 
 leaving their hearts and spirits young and in full 
 vigor. With such people the gray head is but the 
 impression of the old fellow's hand in giving them 
 his blessing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the 
 quiet calendar of a well-spent life. 
 
 The person whom the traveller had so abruptly 
 encountered was of this kind : bluff, hale, hearty, 
 and in a green old age : at peace with himself, and 
 evidently disposed to be so with all the world. Al- 
 though muffled up in divers coats and handkerchiefs
 
 BARNABY RTTDGE. 29 
 
 — one of which, passed over his crown, and tied in 
 a convenient crease of his double chin, secured his 
 three-cornered hat and bob-wig from blowing off his 
 head — there was no disguising his plump and com- 
 fortable figure ; neither did certain dirty finger-marks 
 upon his face give it any other than an odd and 
 comical expression, through which its natural good 
 humor shone with undiminished lustre. 
 
 "He is not hurt," said the traveller at length, 
 raising his head and the lantern together. 
 
 " You have found that out at last, have you ? " 
 rejoined the old man. "My eyes have seen more 
 light than yours, but I wouldn't change with you." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Mean ! I could have told you he wasn't hurt 
 five minutes ago. Give me the light, friend ; ride 
 forward at a gentler pace ; and good-night." 
 
 In handing up the lantern, the man necessarily 
 cast its rays full on the speaker's face. Their eyes 
 met at the instant. He suddenly dropped it and 
 crushed it with his foot. 
 
 " Did you never see a locksmith before, that you 
 start as if you had come upon a ghost ? " cried the 
 old man in the chaise ; "or is this," he added hastily, 
 thrusting his hand into the tool basket and drawing 
 out a hammer, " a scheme for robbing me ? I know 
 these roads, friend. When I travel them, I carry 
 nothing but a few shillings, and not a crown's worth 
 of them. I tell you plainly, to save us both trouble, 
 that there's nothing to be got from me but a pretty 
 stout arm considering my years, and this tool, which, 
 mayhap from long acquaintance with, I can use 
 pretty briskly. You shall not have it all your own 
 way, I promise you, if you play at that game." With 
 these words he stood upon the defensive.
 
 30 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " I am not what you take me for, Gabriel Varden," 
 replied the other. 
 
 " Then what and who are you ? " returned the 
 locksmith. "You know my name it seems. Let 
 me know yours." 
 
 " I have not gained the information from any 
 confidence of yours, but from the inscription on 
 your cart, which tells it to all the town," replied 
 the traveller. 
 
 " You have better eyes for that than you had for 
 your horse then," said Varden, descending nimbly 
 from his chaise. " Who are you ? Let me see your 
 face." 
 
 While the locksmith alighted, the traveller had 
 regained his saddle, from which he now confronted 
 the old man, who, moving as the horse moved in chaf- 
 ing under the tightened rein, kept close beside him. 
 
 " Let me see your face, I say." 
 
 " Stand off ! " 
 
 "No masquerading tricks," said the locksmith, 
 " and tales at the club to-morrow how Gabriel Var- 
 den was frightened by a surly voice and a dark 
 night. Stand — let me see your face." 
 
 Finding that further resistance would only involve 
 him in a personal struggle with an antagonist by no 
 means to be despised, the traveller threw back his 
 coat, and stooping down, looked steadily at the lock- 
 smith. 
 
 Perhaps two men more powerfully contrasted 
 never opposed each other face to face. The ruddy 
 features of the locksmith so set off and heightened 
 the excessive paleness of the man on horseback, that 
 he looked like a bloodless ghost, while the moisture, 
 which hard riding had brought out upon his skin,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 31 
 
 hung there in dark and heavy drops, like dews of 
 agony and death. The countenance of the old lock- 
 smith was lighted up with the smile of one expect- 
 ing to detect in this unpromising stranger some 
 latent roguery of eye or lip, which should reveal a 
 familiar person in that arch disguise, and spoil his 
 jest. The face of the other, sullen and fierce, but 
 shrinking too, was that of a man who stood at bay ; 
 while his firmly closed jaws, his puckered mouth, 
 and, more than all, a certain stealthy motion of the 
 hand within his breast, seemed to announce a des- 
 perate purpose very foreign to acting, or child's 
 play. 
 
 Thus they regarded each other for some time in 
 silence. 
 
 " Humph ! " he said, when he had scanned his 
 features ; " I don't know you." 
 
 " Don't desire to ? " returned the other, muffling 
 himself as before. 
 
 " I don't," said Gabriel ; " to be plain with you, 
 friend, you don't carry in your countenance a letter 
 of recommendation." 
 
 "It's not my wish," said the traveller. "My 
 humor is to be avoided." 
 
 "Well," said the locksmith bluntly, "I think 
 you'll have your humor." 
 
 " I will at any cost," rejoined the traveller. " In 
 proof of it, lay this to heart — that you were never 
 in such peril of your life as you have been within 
 these few moments : when you are within five min- 
 utes of breathing your last, you will not be nearer 
 death than you have been to-night ! " 
 
 " Ay ! " said the sturdy locksmith. 
 
 " Ay ! and a violent death."
 
 32 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " From whose band ? " 
 
 " From mine,'' replied the traveller. 
 
 "With that he put spurs to his horse, and rode 
 away; at first splashing heavily through the mire 
 at a smart trot, but gradually increasing in speed 
 until the last sound of his horse's hoofs died away 
 upon the wind; when he was again hurrying on at 
 the same furious gallop, which had been his pace 
 when the locksmith first encountered him. 
 
 Gabriel Varden remained standing in the road 
 with the broken lantern in his hand, listening in 
 stupefied silence until no sound reached his ear but 
 the moaning of the wind and the fast-falling rain ; 
 when he struck himself one or two smart blows in 
 the breast by way of rousing himself, and broke into 
 an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 "What in the name of wonder can this fellow be ? 
 a madman ? a highwayman ? a cut-throat ? If he 
 had not scoured off so fast, we'd have seen who was 
 in most clanger, he or I. I never nearer death than 
 I have been to-night ! I hope I may be no nearer 
 to it for a score of years to come — if so, Fll be con- 
 tent to be no farther from it. My stars ! — a pretty 
 brag this to a stout man — pooh, pooh ! " 
 
 Gabriel resumed his seat, and looked wistfully up 
 the road by which the traveller had come ; murmur- 
 ing in a half-whisper, — 
 
 "The Maypole — two miles to the Maypole. I 
 came the other road from the W T arren after a long 
 day's work at locks and bells, on purpose that I 
 should not come by the Maypole, and break my 
 promise to Martha by looking in — there's resolu- 
 tion ! It would be dangerous to go on to London 
 without a light ; and it's four miles, and a good half-
 
 BAENABY KUDGE. 33 
 
 mile besides, to the Half-way House ; and between 
 this and that is the very place where one needs a 
 light most. Two miles to the Maypole ! I told 
 Martha I wouldn't ; I said I wouldn't, and I didn't 
 — there's resolution ! " 
 
 Repeating these two last words very often, as if 
 to compensate for the little resolution he was going 
 to show by piquing himself on the great resolution 
 he had shown, Gabriel Varden quietly turned back, 
 determining to get a light at the Maypole, and to 
 take nothing but a light. 
 
 When he got to the Maypole, however, and Joe, 
 responding to his well-known hail, came running 
 out to the horse's head, leaving the door open 
 behind him, and disclosing a delicious perspective 
 of warmth and brightness — when the ruddy gleam 
 of the fire, streaming through the old red curtains 
 of the common room, seemed to bring with it, as 
 part of itself, a pleasant hum of voices, and a fra- 
 grant odor of steaming grog and rare tobacco, all 
 steeped as it were in the cheerful glow — when the 
 shadows, flitting across the curtain, showed that 
 those inside had risen from their snug seats, and 
 were making room in the snuggest corner (how well 
 he knew that corner !) for the honest locksmith, 
 and a broad glare, suddenly streaming up, bespoke 
 the goodness of the crackling log from which a bril- 
 liant train of sparks was doubtless at that moment 
 whirling up the chimney in honor of his coming — 
 when, superadded to these enticements, there stole 
 upon him from the distant kitchen a gentle sound 
 of frying, with a musical clatter of plates and 
 dishes, and a savory smell that made even the bois- 
 terous wind a perfume — Gabriel felt his firmness 
 vol. i. -3.
 
 34 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 oozing rapidly away. He tried to look stoically at 
 the tavern, but his features would relax into a look 
 of fondness. He turned his head the other way, 
 and the cold black country seemed to frown him off, 
 and drive him for a refuge into its hospitable arms. 
 
 " The merciful man, Joe," said the locksmith, " is 
 merciful to his beast. I'll get out for a little 
 while." 
 
 And how natural it was to get out ! And how 
 unnatural it seemed for a sober man to be plodding 
 wearily along through miry roads, encountering the 
 rude buffets of the wind and pelting of the rain, 
 when there was a clean floor covered with crisp 
 white sand, a well-swept hearth, a blazing fire, a 
 table decorated with white cloth, bright pewter 
 flagons, and other tempting preparations for a well- 
 cooked meal — when there were these things, and 
 company disposed to make the most of them, all 
 ready to his hand, and entreating him to enjoy- 
 ment !
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Such were the locksmith's thoughts when first 
 seated in the snug corner, and slowly recovering 
 from a pleasant defect of vision — pleasant, because 
 occasioned by the wind blowing in his eyes — which 
 made it a matter of sound policy and duty to him- 
 self that he should take refuge from the weather, 
 and tempted him, for the same reason, to aggravate 
 a slight cough, and declare he felt but poorly. Such 
 were still his thoughts more than a full hour after- 
 wards, when, supper over, he still sat with shining 
 jovial face in the same warm nook, listening to the 
 cricket-like chirrup of little Solomon Daisy, and 
 bearing no unimportant or slightly respected part 
 in the social gossip round the Maypole fire. 
 
 " I wish he may be an honest man, that's all," 
 said Solomon, winding up a variety of speculations 
 relative to the stranger, concerning whom Gabriel 
 had compared notes with the company, and so raised 
 a grave discussion ; " / wish he may be an honest 
 man." 
 
 " So we all do, I suppose, don't we?" observed 
 the locksmith. 
 
 "I don't," said Joe. 
 
 " No ! " cried Gabriel. 
 
 " No. He struck me with his whip, the coward, 
 
 35
 
 36 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 when he was mounted and I afoot, and I should be 
 better pleased that he turned out what I think 
 him." 
 
 " And what may that be, Joe ? " 
 
 "No good, Mr. Varden. You may shake your 
 head, father, but I say no good, and will say no 
 good, and I would say no good a hundred times 
 over, if that would bring him back to have the 
 drubbing he deserves." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir," said John Willet. 
 
 "I won't, father. It's all along of you that he 
 ventured to do what he did. Seeing me treated like 
 a child, and put down like a fool, he plucks up a 
 heart, and has a fling at a fellow that he thinks — 
 and may well think too — hasn't a grain of spirit. 
 But he's mistaken, as I'll show him, and as I'll 
 show all of you before long." 
 
 " Does the boy know what he's a sajdng of ? " 
 cried the astonished John Willet. 
 
 " Father," returned Joe, " I know what I say and 
 mean well — better than you do when you hear me. 
 I can bear with you, but I cannot bear the contempt 
 that your treating me in the way you do brings 
 upon me from others every day. Look at other 
 young men of my age. Have they no liberty, no 
 will, no right to speak ? Are they obliged to sit 
 mum-chance, and to be ordered about till they are the 
 laughing-stock of young and old ? I am a by-word 
 all over Chigwell, and I say — and it's fairer my 
 saying so now than waiting till you are dead, and 
 I have got your money — I say, that before long I 
 shall be driven to break such bounds, and that when I 
 do, it won't be me that you'll have to blame, but 
 your own self, and no other."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 37 
 
 John Willet was so amazed by the exasperation 
 and boldness of his hopeful son, that he sat as one 
 bewildered, staring in a ludicrous manner at the 
 boiler, and endeavoring, but quite ineffectually, to 
 collect his tardy thoughts, and invent an answer. 
 The guests, scarcely less disturbed, were equally at 
 a loss ; and at length, with a variety of muttered, 
 half-expressed condolences and pieces of advice, 
 rose to depart; being at the same time slightly 
 muddled with liquor. 
 
 The honest locksmith alone addressed a few 
 words of coherent and sensible advice to both 
 parties, urging John Willet to remember that Joe 
 was nearly arrived at man's estate, and should not 
 be ruled with too tight a hand, and exhorting Joe 
 himself to bear with his father's caprices, and 
 rather endeavor to turn them aside by temperate 
 remonstrance than by ill-timed rebellion. This 
 advice was received as such advice usually is. 
 On John Willet it made almost as much impres- 
 sion as on the sign outside the door, while Joe, 
 who took it in the best part, avowed himself 
 more obliged than he could well express, but 
 politely intimated his intention, nevertheless, of 
 taking his own course uninfluenced by anybody. 
 
 " You have always been a very good friend to 
 me, Mr. Varden," he said, as they stood without in 
 the porch, and the locksmith was equipping himself 
 for his journey home ; " I take it very kind of you 
 to say all this, but the time's nearly come when the 
 Maypole and I must part company." 
 
 "Roving stones gather no moss, Joe," said Ga- 
 briel. 
 
 "Nor milestones much/' replied Joe. "I'm lit-
 
 38 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 tie better than one here, and see as much of the 
 world." 
 
 " Then, what would you do, Joe ? " pursued the 
 locksmith, stroking his chin reflectively. "What 
 could you be ? Where could you go, you see ? " 
 
 " I must trust to chance, Mr. Varden." 
 
 "A bad thing to trust to, Joe. I don't like it. I 
 always tell my girl, when we talk about a husband 
 for her, never to trust to chance, but to make sure 
 beforehand that she has a good man and true, and 
 then chance will neither make her nor break her. 
 What are you fidgeting about there, Joe ? Nothing 
 gone in the harness, I hope ? " 
 
 " Xo, no," said Joe — finding, however, something 
 very engrossing to do in the way of strapping and 
 buckling. " Miss Dolly quite well ? " 
 
 "Hearty, thankye. She looks pretty enoxigh to 
 be well, and good too." 
 
 " She's always both, sir — " 
 
 " So she is, thank God ! " 
 
 "I hope," said Joe after some hesitation, "that 
 you won't tell this story against me — this of my 
 having been beat like the boy they'd make of me — 
 at all events till I have met this man again and 
 settled the account. It'll be a better story then." 
 
 " Why, who should I tell it to ? " returned Gabriel. 
 "They know it here, and I'm not likely to come 
 across anybody else who would care about it." 
 
 " That's true enough," said the young fellow with 
 a sigh. " I quite forgot that. Yes, that's true ! " 
 
 So saying, he raised his face, which was very red, 
 — no doubt from the exertion of strapping and buck- 
 ling as aforesaid, — and giving the reins to the old 
 man, who had by this time taken his seat, sighed 
 again and bade him good-night.
 
 BAENABY RTJDGE. 39 
 
 " Good-night ! " cried Gabriel. " Now think bet- 
 ter of what we have just been speaking of, and 
 don't be rash, there's a good fellow ! I have an 
 interest in you, and wouldn't have you cast yourself 
 away. Good-night ! " 
 
 Eeturning his cheery farewell with cordial good 
 will, Joe Willet lingered until the sound of wheels 
 ceased to vibrate in his ears, and then, shaking his 
 head mournfully, re-entered the house. 
 
 Gabriel Varden went his way towards London, 
 thinking of a great many things, and most of all of 
 naming terms in which to relate his adventure, and 
 so account satisfactorily to Mrs. Varden for visiting 
 the Maypole, despite certain solemn covenants be- 
 tween himself and that lady. Thinking begets, not 
 only thought, but drowsiness occasionally, and the 
 more the locksmith thought, the more sleepy he 
 became. 
 
 A man may be very sober — or at least firmly set 
 upon his legs on that neutral ground which lies 
 between the confines of perfect sobriety and slight 
 tipsiness — and yet feel a strong tendency to mingle 
 up present circumstances with others which have no 
 manner of connection with them ; to confound all 
 consideration of persons, things, times, and places ; 
 and to jumble his disjointed thoughts together in a 
 kind of mental kaleidoscope, producing combina- 
 tions as unexpected as they are transitory. This 
 was Gabriel Varden's state, as nodding in his dog 
 sleep, and leaving his horse to pursue a road with 
 which he was well acquainted, he got over the 
 ground unconsciously, and drew nearer and nearer 
 home. He had roused himself once, when the 
 horse stopped until the turnpike gate was opened,
 
 40 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 and had cried a lusty " Good-night ! " to the toll- 
 keeper ; but then he awoke out of a dream about 
 picking a lock in the stomach of the Great Mogul, 
 and even when he did wake, mixed up the turnpike 
 man with his mother-in-law, who had been dead 
 twenty years. It is not surprising, therefore, that 
 he soon relapsed, and jogged heavily along, quite 
 insensible to his progress. 
 
 And now he approached the great city, which lay 
 outstretched before him like a dark shadow on the 
 ground, reddening the sluggish air with a deep dull 
 light, that told of labyrinths of public ways and 
 shops, and swarms of busy people. Approaching 
 nearer and nearer yet, this halo began to fade, and 
 the causes which produced it slowly to develop them- 
 selves. Long lines of poorly lighted streets might 
 be faintly traced, with here and there a lighter spot, 
 where lamps were clustered about a square or mar- 
 ket, or round some great building; after a time 
 these grew more distinct, and the lamps themselves 
 were visible ; slight yellow specks, that seemed to 
 be rapidly snuffed out one by one, as intervening 
 obstacles hid them from the sight. Then sounds 
 arose — the striking of church clocks, the distant 
 bark of dogs, the hum of traffic in the streets ; then, 
 outlines might be traced — tall steeples looming in 
 the air, and piles of unequal roofs oppressed by 
 chimneys ; then, the noise swelled into a louder 
 sound, and forms grew more distinct and numerous 
 still, and London — visible in the darkness by its 
 own faint light, and not by that of heaven — was at 
 hand. 
 
 The locksmith, however, all unconscious of its 
 near vicinity, still jogged on, half sleeping, and
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 41 
 
 half waking, when a loud cry, at no great distance 
 ahead, roused him with a start. 
 
 For a moment or two he looked about him like a 
 man who had been transported to some strange 
 country in his sleep, but soon recognized familiar 
 objects, rubbed his eyes lazily, and might have 
 relapsed again, but that the cry was repeated — 
 not once or twice or thrice, but many times, and 
 each time, if possible, with increased vehemence. 
 Thoroughly aroused, Gabriel, who was a bold man 
 and not easily daunted, made straight to the spot, 
 urging on his stout little horse as if for life or 
 death. 
 
 The matter indeed looked sufficiently serious, for, 
 coming to the place whence the cries had proceeded, 
 he descried the figure of a man extended in an ap- 
 parently lifeless state upon the pathway, and, hover- 
 ing round him, another person with a torch in his 
 hand, which he waved in the air with a wild im- 
 patience, redoubling meanwhile those cries for help 
 which had brought the locksmith to the spot. 
 
 " What's here to do ? " said the old man, alight- 
 ing. " How's this — what — Barnaby ? " 
 
 The bearer of the torch shook his long loose hair 
 back from his eyes, and thrusting his face eagerly 
 into that of the locksmith, fixed upon him a look 
 which told his history at once. 
 
 " You know me, Barnaby ? " said Varden. 
 
 He nodded — not once or twice, but a score of 
 times, and that with a fantastic exaggeration which 
 would have kept his head in motion for an hour, 
 but that the locksmith held up his finger, and fixing 
 his eye sternly upon him, caused him to desist ; then 
 pointed to the body with an inquiring look.
 
 42 BAm&TABY EUDGE. 
 
 "There's blood upon him," said Barnaby with a 
 shudder. " It makes me sick." 
 
 " How came it there ? " demanded Varden. 
 
 " Steel, steel, steel ! " he replied fiercely, imitating 
 with his hand the thrust of a sword. 
 
 " Is he robbed ? " said the locksmith. 
 
 Barnaby caught him by the arm, and nodded 
 " Yes ; " then pointed towards the city. 
 
 " Oh ! " said the old man, bending over the body, 
 and looking round as he spoke into Barnaby's pale 
 face, strangely lighted up by something which was 
 not intellect. " The robber made off that way, did 
 he ? Well, well, never mind that just now. Hold 
 3-our torch this way — a little further off — so. 
 Now stand quiet, while I try to see what harm is 
 done." 
 
 With these words, he applied himself to a closer 
 examination of the prostrate form, while Barnaby, 
 holding the torch as he had been directed, looked on 
 in silence, fascinated by interest or curiosity, but 
 repelled, nevertheless, by some strong and secret 
 horror which convulsed him in every nerve. 
 
 As he stood, at that moment, half shrinking back 
 and half bending forward, both his face and figure 
 were full in the strong glare of the link, and as dis- 
 tinctly revealed as though it had been broad day. 
 He was about three and twenty years old, and though 
 rather spare, of a fair height and strong make. His 
 hair, of which he had great profusion, was red, and 
 hanging in disorder about his face and shoulders, 
 gave to his restless looks an expression quite un- 
 earthly — enhanced by the paleness of his com- 
 plexion, and the glassy lustre of his large protruding 
 eyes. Startling as his aspect was, the features were
 
 1=3 ' ■
 
 BAKNABY BUDGE. 43 
 
 good, and there was something even plaintive in his 
 wan and haggard aspect. But the absence of the 
 soul is far more terrible in a living man than in a 
 dead one ; and in this unfortunate being its noblest 
 powers were wanting. 
 
 His dress was of green, clumsily trimmed here 
 and there — apparently by his own hands — with 
 gaudy lace ; brightest where the cloth was most 
 worn and soiled, and poorest where it was at the 
 best. A pair of tawdry ruffles dangled at his wrists, 
 while his throat was nearly bare. He had orna- 
 mented his hat with a cluster of peacock's feathers, 
 but they were limp and broken, and now trailed 
 negligently down his back. Girt to his side was the 
 steel hilt of an old sword without blade or scabbard ; 
 and some party-colored ends of ribbons and poor 
 glass toys completed the ornamental portion of his 
 attire. The fluttered and confused disposition of 
 all the motley scraps that formed his dress bespoke, 
 in a scarcely less degree than his eager and unsettled 
 manner, the disorder of his mind, and, by a grotesque 
 contrast, set off and heightened the more impressive 
 wildness of his face. 
 
 " Barnaby," said the locksmith, after a hasty 
 but careful inspection, "this man is not dead, 
 but he has a wound in his side, and is in a faint- 
 ing fit." 
 
 " I know him, I know him ! " cried Barnaby, clap- 
 ping his hands. 
 
 " Know him ? " repeated the locksmith. 
 
 "Hush ! " said Barnaby, laying his fingers on his 
 lips. " He went out to-day a-wooing. I wouldn't 
 for a light guinea that he should never go a-wooing 
 again, for, if he did, some eyes would grow dim
 
 44 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 that are now as bright as — See, when I talk of 
 eyes, the stars come out ! Whose eyes are they ? 
 If they are angels' eyes, why do they look clown 
 here and see good men hurt, and only wink and 
 sparkle all the night ? " 
 
 "Now Heaven help this silly fellow," murmured 
 the perplexed locksmith, " can he know this gentle- 
 man ? His mother's house is not far off ; I had 
 better see if she can tell me who he is. Barnaby, 
 my man, help me to put him in the chaise, and we'll 
 ride home together." 
 
 " I can't touch him ! " cried the idiot, falling 
 back, and shuddering as with a strong spasm ; " he's 
 bloody ! " 
 
 " It's in his nature I know," muttered the lock- 
 smith, " it's cruel to ask him, but I must have help. 
 Barnaby — good Barnaby — dear Barnaby — if you 
 know this gentleman, for the sake of his life and 
 everybody's life that loves him, help me to raise him 
 and lay him down." 
 
 " Cover him then, wrap him close — don't let me 
 see it — smell it — hear the word. Don't speak the 
 word — don't ! " 
 
 "No, no, I'll not. There, you see he's covered 
 now. Gently. Well clone, well done ! " 
 
 They placed him in the carriage with great ease, 
 for Barnaby was strong and active, but all the time 
 they were so occupied he shivered from head to 
 foot, and evidently experienced an ecstasy of ter- 
 ror. 
 
 This accomplished, and the wounded man being 
 covered with Varden's own great-coat, which he 
 took off for the purpose, they proceeded onward 
 at a brisk pace : Barnaby gayly counting the stars
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 45 
 
 upon his fingers, and Gabriel inwardly congrat- 
 ulating himself upon having an adventure now 
 which would silence Mrs. Varden on the subject of 
 the Maypole for that night, or there was no faith 
 in woman.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In the venerable suburb — it was a suburb once — 
 of Clerkenwell, towards that part of its confines 
 which is nearest to the Charter House, and in one 
 of those cool, shady streets, of which a few, widely 
 scattered and dispersed, yet remain in such old parts 
 of the metropolis, — each tenement quietly vegetat- 
 ing like an ancient citizen who long ago retired from 
 business, and dozing on in its infirmity until in 
 course of time it tumbles down, and is replaced by 
 some extravagant young heir, flaunting in stucco 
 and ornamental work, and all the vanities of modern 
 days, — in this quarter, and in a street of this 
 description, the business of the present chapter 
 lies. 
 
 At the time of which it treats, though only six 
 and sixty years ago, a very large part of what is 
 London now had no existence. Even in the brains 
 of the wildest speculators, there had sprung up no 
 long rows of streets connecting Highgate with 
 AYhitechapel, no assemblages of palaces in the 
 swampy levels, nor little cities in the open fields. 
 Although this part of the town was then, as now, 
 parcelled out in streets, and plentifully peopled, it 
 wore a different aspect. There were gardens to 
 many of the houses, and trees by the pavement side ; 
 
 46
 
 BAEXABY BUDGE. 47 
 
 with an air of freshness breathing up and down, 
 which in these days would be sought in vain. 
 Fields were nigh at hand, through which the New 
 River took its winding course, and where there was 
 merry haymaking in the summer-time. Nature was 
 not so far removed, or hard to get at, as in these 
 days ; and although there were busy trades in 
 Clerkenwell, and working jewellers by scores, it was 
 a purer place, with farmhouses nearer to it than 
 many modern Londoners would readily believe, and 
 lovers' walks at no great distance, which turned into 
 squalid courts long before the lovers of this age 
 were born, or, as the phrase goes, thought of. 
 
 In one of these streets, the cleanest of them all, 
 and on the shady side of the way — for good house- 
 wives know that sunlight damages their cherished 
 furniture, and so choose the shade rather than its 
 intrusive glare — there stood the house with which 
 we have to deal. It was a modest building, not 
 very straight, not large, not tall ; not bold-faced, 
 with great staring windows, but a shy blinking house, 
 with a conical roof going up into a peak over its 
 garret window of four small panes of glass, like a 
 cocked hat on the head of an elderly gentleman with 
 one eye. It was not built of brick or lofty stone, 
 but of wood and plaster ; it was not planned with a 
 dull and wearisome regard to regularity, for no one 
 window matched the other, or seemed to have the 
 slightest reference to anything besides itself. 
 
 The shop — for it had a shop — was, with refer- 
 ence to the first floor, where shops usually are ; and 
 there all resemblance between it and any other 
 shop stopped short and ceased. People who went 
 in and out didn't go up a flight of steps to it, or
 
 48 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 walk easily in upon a level with the street, but 
 dived down three steep stairs, as into a cellar. Its 
 floor was paved with stone and brick, as that of any 
 other cellar might be ; and, in lieu of window framed 
 and glazed, it had a great black wooden flap or shut- 
 ter, nearly breast high from the ground, which 
 turned back in the daytime, admitting as much cold 
 air as light, and very often more. Behind this shop 
 was a wainscoted parlor, looking first into a paved 
 yard, and beyond that again into a little terrace 
 garden raised some feet above it. Any stranger 
 would have supposed that this wainscoted parlor, 
 saving for the door of communication by which 
 he had entered, was cut off and detached from all 
 the world ; and indeed most strangers, on their first 
 entrance, were observed to grow extremely thought- 
 ful, as weighing and pondering in their minds 
 whether the upper rooms were only approachable by 
 ladders from without ; never suspecting that two of 
 the most unassuming and unlikely doors in exist- 
 ence, which the most ingenious mechanician on 
 earth must of necessity have supposed to be the 
 doors of closets, opened out of this room — each 
 without the smallest preparation, or so much as a 
 quarter of an inch of passage — upon two dark 
 winding flights of stairs, the one upward, the other 
 downward, which were the sole means of communi- 
 cation between that chamber and the other portions 
 of the house. 
 
 With all these oddities, there was not a neater, 
 more scrupulously tidy, or more punctiliously or- 
 dered house in Clerkenwell, in London, in all Eng- 
 land. There were not cleaner windows, or whiter 
 floors, or brighter stoves, or more highly shining
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 49 
 
 articles of furniture in old mahogany ; there was not 
 more rubbing, scrubbing, burnishing, and polishing 
 in the whole street put together. Nor was this ex- 
 cellence attained without some cost and trouble, and 
 great expenditure of voice, as the neighbors were 
 frequently reminded when the good lady of the 
 house overlooked and assisted in its being put to 
 rights on cleaning days — which were usually from 
 Monday morning till Saturday night, both days 
 inclusive. 
 
 Leaning against the door-post of this his dwelling, 
 the locksmith stood early on the morning after he 
 had met with the wounded man, gazing disconso- 
 lately at a great wooden emblem of a key, painted 
 in vivid yellow to resemble gold, which dangled 
 from the house-front, and swung to and fro with a 
 mournful creaking noise, as if complaining that it 
 had nothing to unlock. Sometimes he looked over 
 his shoulder into the shop, which was so dark and 
 dingy with numerous tokens of his trade, and so 
 blackened by the smoke of a little forge, near which 
 his 'prentice was at work, that it would have been 
 difficult for one unused to such espials to have dis- 
 tinguished anything but various tools of uncouth 
 make and shape, great bunches of rusty keys, frag- 
 ments of iron, half-finished locks, and such-like 
 things, which garnished the walls and hung in 
 clusters from the ceiling. 
 
 After a long and patient contemplation of the 
 golden key, and many such backward glances, Ga- 
 briel stepped into the road, and stole a look at the 
 upper windows. One of them chanced to be thrown 
 open at the moment, and a roguish face met his ; a 
 face lighted up by the loveliest pair of sparkling 
 vol. i. -4.
 
 50 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 eyes that ever locksmith looked upon ; the face of a 
 pretty, laughing girl ; dimpled and fresh, and health- 
 ful — the very impersonation of good humor and 
 blooming beauty. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered, bending forward and 
 pointing archly to the window underneath. " Mother 
 is still asleep." 
 
 "Still, my dear!" returned the locksmith in the 
 same tone. " You talk as if she had been asleep all 
 night, instead of little more than half an hour. 
 But I'm very thankful. Sleep's a blessing — no 
 doubt about it." The last few words he muttered 
 to himself. 
 
 "How cruel of you to keep us up so late this 
 morning, and never tell us where you were, or send 
 us word ! " said the girl. 
 
 " Ah, Dolly, Dolly ! " returned the locksmith, 
 shaking his head and smiling, " how cruel of you to 
 run upstairs to bed ! Come down to breakfast, 
 madcap, and come down lightly, or you'll wake your 
 mother. She must be tired, I am sure — I am." 
 
 Keeping these latter words to himself, and return- 
 ing his daughter's nod, he was passing into the 
 workshop, with the smile she had awakened still 
 beaming on his face, when he just caught sight of 
 his 'prentice's brown-paper cap ducking down to 
 avoid observation, and shrinking from the window 
 back to its former place, which the wearer no sooner 
 reached than he began to hammer lustily. 
 
 " Listening again, Simon ! " said Gabriel to him- 
 self. " That's bad. What in the name of wonder does 
 he expect the girl to say, that I always catch him 
 listening when she speaks, and never at any other 
 time ? A bad habit, Sim, a sneaking underhanded
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 51 
 
 way. Ah ! you may hammer, but you won't beat 
 that out of me, if you work at it till your time's 
 up ! " 
 
 So saying, and shaking his head gravely, he re- 
 entered the workshop, and confronted the subject 
 of these remarks. 
 
 " There's enough of that just now," said the lock- 
 smith. " You needn't make any more of that con- 
 founded clatter. Breakfast's ready." 
 
 "Sir," said Sim, looking up with amazing polite- 
 ness, and a peculiar little bow cut short off at the 
 neck. " I shall attend you immediately." 
 
 " I suppose," muttered Gabriel, " that's out of the 
 'Prentice's Garland, or the 'Prentice's Delight, or 
 the 'Prentice's Warbler, or the 'Prentice's Guide to 
 the Gallows, or some such improving text-book. 
 Now he's going to beautify himself — here's a pre- 
 cious locksmith ! " 
 
 Quite unconscious that his master was looking on 
 from the dark corner by the parlor door, Sim threw 
 off the paper cap, sprang from his seat, and in two 
 extraordinary steps, something between skating and 
 minuet dancing, bounded to a washing place at the 
 other end of the shop, and there removed from his 
 face and hands all traces of his previous work — 
 practising the same step all the time with the ut- 
 most gravity. This done, he drew from some con- 
 cealed place a little scrap of looking-glass, and with 
 its assistance arranged his hair, and ascertained the 
 exact state of a little carbuncle on his nose. Hav- 
 ing now completed his toilet, he placed the fragment 
 of mirror on a low bench, and looked over his 
 shoulder at so much of his legs as could be reflected 
 in that small compass with the greatest possible 
 complacency and satisfaction.
 
 52 BARNABY RTTDGE. 
 
 Sim, as he was called in the locksmith's family, 
 or Mr. Simon Tappertit, as he called himself, and 
 required all men to style him out of doors, on holi- 
 days, and Sundays out, was an old-fashioned, thin- 
 faced, sleek-haired, sharp-nosed, small-eyed little 
 fellow, very little more than five feet high, and 
 thoroughly convinced in his own mind that he was 
 above the middle size ; rather tall, in fact, than 
 otherwise. Of his figure, which was well enough 
 formed, though somewhat of the leanest, he enter- 
 tained the highest admiration ; and with his legs, 
 which, in knee-breeches, were perfect curiosities of 
 littleness, he was enraptured to a degree amounting 
 to enthusiasm. He also had some majestic, shadowy 
 ideas, which had never been quite fathomed by his 
 intimate friends, concerning the power of his eye. 
 Indeed, he had been known to go so far as to boast 
 that he could utterly quell and subdue the haughti- 
 est beauty by a simple process, which he termed 
 "eying her over;" but it must be added, that 
 neither of this faculty, nor of the power he claimed 
 to have, through the same gift, of vanquishing and 
 heaving down dumb animals, even in a rabid state, 
 had he ever furnished evidence which could be 
 deemed quite satisfactory and conclusive. 
 
 It may be inferred, from these premises, that in 
 the small body of Mr. Tappertit there was locked 
 up an ambitious and aspiring soul. As certain 
 liquors, confined in casks too cramped in their 
 dimensions, will ferment, and fret, and chafe in 
 their imprisonment, so the spiritual essence or soul 
 of Mr. Tappertit would sometimes fume within that 
 precious cask, his body, until, with great foam and 
 froth and splutter, it would force a vent, and carry
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 53 
 
 all before it. It was his custom to remark, in refer- 
 ence to any one of these occasions, that his soul had 
 got into his head ; and in this novel kind of intoxi- 
 cation many scrapes and mishaps befell him, which 
 he had frequently concealed with no small difficulty 
 from his worthy master. 
 
 Sim Tappertit, among the other fancies upon 
 which his before-mentioned soul was forever feast- 
 ing and regaling itself (and which fancies, like the 
 liver of Prometheus, grew as they were fed upon), 
 had a mighty notion of his order ; and had been 
 heard by the servant-maid openly expressing his 
 regret that the 'prentices no longer carried clubs 
 wherewith to mace the citizens : that was his strong 
 expression. He was likewise reported to have said 
 that in former times a stigma had been cast upon 
 the body by the execution of George Barnwell, to 
 which they should not have basely submitted, but 
 should have demanded him of the legislature — 
 temperately at first ; then by an appeal to arms, if 
 necessary — to be dealt with as they in their wis- 
 dom might think fit. These thoughts always led 
 him to consider what a glorious engine the 'prentices 
 might yet become if they had but a master spirit at 
 their head ; and then he would darkly, and to the 
 terror of his hearers, hint at certain reckless fellows 
 that he knew of, and at a certain Lion Heart ready 
 to become their captain, who, once afoot, would 
 make the Lord Mayor tremble on his throne. 
 
 In respect of dress and personal decoration, Sim 
 Tappertit was no less of an adventurous and enter- 
 prising character. He had been seen beyond dis- 
 pute to pull off ruffles of the finest quality at the 
 corner of the street on Sunday nights, and to put
 
 54 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 them carefully in his pocket before returning home ; 
 and it was quite notorious that on all great holiday 
 occasions it was his habit to exchange his plain 
 steel knee-buckles for a pair of glittering paste, 
 under cover of a friendly post, planted most con- 
 veniently in that same spot. Add to this, that he 
 was in years just twenty, in his looks much older, 
 and in conceit at least two hundred ; that lie had no 
 objection to be jested with touching his admiration 
 of his master's daughter ; and had even, when called 
 upon at a certain obscure tavern to pledge the lady 
 whom he honored with his love, toasted, with many 
 winks and leers, a fair creature whose Christian 
 name, he said, began with a D — ; and as much is 
 known of Sim Tappertit, who has by this time 
 followed the locksmith in to breakfast, as is neces- 
 sary to be known in making his acquaintance. 
 
 It was a substantial meal ; for, over and above 
 the ordinary tea equipage, the board creaked beneath 
 the weight of a jolly round of beef, a ham of the 
 first magnitude, and sundry towers of buttered 
 Yorkshire cake, piled slice upon slice in most allur- 
 ing order. There was also a goodly jug of well- 
 browned clay, fashioned into the form of an old 
 gentleman, not by any means unlike the locksmith, 
 atop of whose bald head was a fine white froth 
 answering to his wig, indicative, beyond dispute, of 
 sparkling home-brewed ale. But, better far than 
 fair home-brewed, or Yorkshire cake, or ham, or 
 beef, or anything to eat or drink that earth or air or 
 water can supply, there sat, presiding over all, the 
 locksmith's rosy daughter, before whose dark eyes 
 even beef grew insignificant, and malt became as 
 nothing.
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 55 
 
 Fathers should never kiss their daughters when 
 young men are by. It's too much. There are 
 bounds to human endurance. So thought Sim Tap- 
 pertit when Gabriel drew those rosy lips to his — 
 those lips within Sim's reach from day to day, and 
 yet so far off. He had a respect for his master, but 
 he wished the Yorkshire cake might choke him. 
 
 " Father," said the locksmith's daughter, when 
 this salute was over, and they took their seats at 
 table, " what is this I hear about last night ? " 
 
 " All true, my dear ; true as the Gospel, Doll." 
 
 " Young Mr. Chester robbed, and lying wounded 
 in the road, when you came up ? " 
 
 "Ay — Mr. Edward. And beside him, Barnaby 
 calling for help with all his might. It was well it 
 happened as it did ; for the road's a lonely one, the 
 hour was late, and the night being cold, and poor 
 Barnaby even less sensible than usual from surprise 
 and fright, the young gentleman might have met his 
 death in a very short time." 
 
 " I dread to think of it ! " cried his daughter with 
 a shudder. " How did you know him ? " 
 
 " Know him ! " returned the locksmith. " I 
 didn't know him — how could I ? I had never seen 
 him, often as I had heard and spoken of him. I 
 took him to Mrs. Budge's ; and she no sooner saw 
 him than the truth came out." 
 
 " Miss Emma, father ! If this news should reach 
 her, enlarged upon as it is sure to be, she will go 
 distracted." 
 
 " Why, lookye there again, how a man suffers for 
 being good-natured," said the locksmith. " Miss 
 Emma was with her uncle at the masquerade at 
 Carlisle House, where she had gone, as the people
 
 Ob BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 at the Warren told me. sorely against her will. 
 What does your blockhead father, when he and Mrs. 
 Budge have laid their he Is I "ether, but goes there 
 when he ought to be abed, makes interest with his 
 friend the doorkeeper, slips him on a mask and 
 domino, and mixes with the maskers." 
 
 •■ And like himself to do so ! " cried the girl, put- 
 ting her fair arm round his neck, and giving him a 
 most enthusiastic kiss. 
 
 •• Like himself ! " repeated Gabriel, affecting to 
 grumble, but evidently >ieiighted with the part he 
 had taken, and with her praise. "Very like himself 
 
 — so vour mother said. However, he mingled with 
 the crowd, and prettily worried and bs g red he 
 
 -. I warrant you, with people squeaking. • Don't 
 you know me ? ' and -I've found you out.' and all 
 that kind of nonsense in his ears. He might have 
 wandered on till now. but in a little room there was 
 a voung ladv who had taken off her mask, on account 
 of the place being very warm, and was sitting there 
 alone." 
 
 •• And that was she ? " said his daughter hastily. 
 
 ■• And that was she." replied the locksmith ; "and 
 I no sooner whispered to her what the matter was 
 
 — as softly. Doll, and with nearly as much art as 
 vou could have used vouxself — than she drives a 
 kind of scream and faints away." 
 
 ••What did you do — what happened next?" 
 asked his daughter. 
 
 ■• Why. the masks came nocking round, with a 
 general noise and hubbub, and I thought myself in 
 luck to get clear off. that's all." rejoined the lock- 
 smith. '• What happened when I reached home you 
 may guess, if you didn't hear it. Ah ! "Well, it's a
 
 BAKNABY KUDGE. 57 
 
 poor heart that never rejoices. — Put Toby this way, 
 iny dear." 
 
 This Toby was the brown jug of which previous 
 mention has been made. Applying his lips to the 
 worthy old gentleman's benevolent forehead, the 
 locksmith, who had all this time been ravaging 
 among the eatables, kept them there so long, at the 
 same time raising the vessel slowly in the air, that 
 at length Toby stood on his head upon his nose, 
 when he smacked his lips and set him on the table 
 again with fond reluctance. 
 
 Although Sim Tappertit had taken no share in 
 this conversation, no part of it being addressed to 
 him, he had not been wanting in such silent mani- 
 festations of astonishment as he deemed most com- 
 patible with the favorable display of his eyes. 
 Eegarding the pause which now ensued as a particu- 
 larly advantageous opportunity for doing great 
 execution with them upon the locksmith's daughter 
 (who he had no doubt was looking at him in mute 
 admiration), he began to screw and twist his face, 
 and especially those features, into such extraordi- 
 nary, hideous, and unparalleled contortions, that 
 Gabriel, who happened to look towards him, was 
 stricken with amazement. 
 
 " Why, what the devil's the matter with the lad ? " 
 cried the locksmith. " Is he choking ? " 
 
 " Who ? " demanded Sim with some disdain. 
 
 " Who ? Why you," returned his master. " What 
 do you mean by making those horrible faces over 
 your breakfast ? " 
 
 " Faces are matters of taste, sir," said Mr. Tapper- 
 tit, rather discomfited ; not the less so because he 
 saw the locksmith's daughter smiling.
 
 58 •-■• \ \ . ■ 
 
 ! 
 
 his 
 
 jr w 
 
 w 
 
 He 
 
 ■ 
 
 I x '. N 
 
 ■• I . 3 
 
 I . : 
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 Hi . ■ 
 
 But 
 
 ■• • 
 
 •■'... . ••. — 
 
 ; 
 : h. 
 
 : 
 
 ...... 
 
 - 
 
 is 
 
 .... ■ \ 
 
 ■ 
 
 i

 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 59 
 
 agitation and anxiety of the previous night ; and 
 therefore desired to be immediately accommodated 
 with the little black teapot of strong mixed tea, a 
 couple of rounds of buttered toast, a middling-sized 
 dish of beef and ham cut thin, and the Protestant 
 Manual in two volumes, post octavo. Like some 
 other ladies who in remote ages nourished upon this 
 globe, Mrs. Varden was most devout when most ill- 
 tempered. Whenever she and her husband were at 
 unusual variance, then the Protestant Manual was 
 in high feather. 
 
 Knowing from experience what these requests 
 portended, the triumvirate broke up ; Dolly, to see 
 the orders executed with all despatch ; Gabriel, to 
 some out-of-door work in his little chaise ; and Sim, 
 to his daily duty in the workshop, to which retreat 
 he carried the big look, although the loaf remained 
 behind. 
 
 Indeed, the big look increased immensely, and 
 when he had tied his apron on, became quite gigan- 
 tic. It was not until he had several times walked 
 up and down with folded arms, and the longest 
 strides he could take, and had kicked a great many 
 small articles out of his way, that his lip began to 
 curl. At length, a gloomy derision came upon his 
 features, and he smiled ; uttering meanwhile with 
 supreme contempt the monosyllable " Joe ! " 
 
 " I eyed her over while he talked about the fel- 
 low," he said, " and that was of course the reason of 
 her being confused. Joe ! " 
 
 He walked up and down again much quicker than 
 before, and if possible with longer strides ; some- 
 times stopping to take a glance at his legs, and 
 sometimes to jerk out and cast from him another
 
 60 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Joe ! " In the course of a quarter of an hour or 
 so he again assumed the paper cap and tried to 
 work. No. It could not be done. 
 
 " I'll do nothing to-day," said Mr. Tappertit, dash- 
 ing it down again, " but grind. I'll grind up all the 
 tools. Grinding will suit my present humor well. 
 Joe ! " 
 
 Whirr-r-r-r. The grindstone was soon in motion ; 
 the sparks were flying off in showers. This was the 
 occupation for his heated spirit. 
 
 Wh i r r-r-r-r-r-r-r . 
 
 " Something will come of this ! " said Mr. Tap- 
 pertit, pausing as if in triumph, and wiping his 
 heated face upon his sleeve. " Something will come 
 of this. I hope it mayn't be human gore ! " 
 
 Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 As soon as the business of the day was over, the 
 locksmith sallied forth alone to visit the wounded 
 gentleman and ascertain the progress of his recov- 
 ery. The house where he had left him was in a by- 
 street in Southwark, not far from London Bridge ; 
 and thither he hied with all speed, bent upon re- 
 turning with as little delay as might be, and getting 
 to bed betimes. 
 
 The evening was boisterous — scarcely better than 
 the previous night had been. It was not easy for a 
 stout man like Gabriel to keep his legs at the street 
 corners, or to make head against the high wind, 
 which often fairly got the better of him and drove 
 him back some paces, or, in defiance of all his 
 energy, forced him to take shelter in an arch or 
 doorway until the fury of the gust was spent. Oc- 
 casionally a hat or wig, or both, came spinning and 
 trundling past him, like a mad thing ; while the 
 more serious spectacle of falling tiles and slates, or 
 of masses of brick and mortar, or fragments of 
 stone-coping rattling upon the pavement near at 
 hand, and splitting into fragments, did not increase 
 the pleasure of the journey, or make the way less 
 dreary. 
 
 " A trying night for a man like me to walk in ! " 
 
 61
 
 62 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 said the locksmith, as he knocked softly at the 
 widow's door. "I'd rather be in old John's chim- 
 ney-corner, faith ! " 
 
 "Who's there ? " demanded a woman's voice from 
 within. Being answered, it added a hasty word of 
 welcome, and the door was quickly opened. 
 
 She was about forty — perhaps two or three years 
 older — with a cheerful aspect, and a face that had 
 once been pretty. It bore traces of affliction and 
 care, but they were of an old date, and Time had 
 smoothed them. Any one who had bestowed but a 
 casual glance on Barnaby might have known that 
 this was his mother, from the strong resemblance 
 between them ; but where in his face there was 
 wildness and vacancy, in hers there was the patient 
 composure of long effort and quiet resignation. 
 
 One thing about this face was very strange and 
 startling. You could not look upon it in its most 
 cheerful mood without feeling that it had some 
 extraordinary capacity of expressing terror. It was 
 not on the surface. It was in no one feature that it 
 lingered. You could not take the eyes, or mouth, 
 or lines upon the cheek, and say if this or that were 
 otherwise, it would not be so. Yet there it always 
 lurked — something forever dimly seen, but ever 
 there, and never absent for a moment. It was the 
 faintest, palest shadow of some look, to which an 
 instant of intense and most unutterable horror only 
 could have given birth ; but indistinct and feeble 
 as it was, it did suggest what that look must have 
 been, and fixed it in the mind as if it had had exist- 
 ence in a dream. 
 
 More faintly imaged, and wanting force and pur- 
 pose, as it were, because of his darkened intellect,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 63 
 
 there was this same stamp upon the son. Seen in 
 a picture, it must have had some legend with it, and 
 would have haunted those who looked upon the can- 
 vas. They who knew the Maypole story, and could 
 remember what the widow was before her husband's 
 and his master's murder, understood it well. They 
 recollected how the change had come, and could call 
 to mind that when her son was born, upon the very 
 day the deed was known, he bore upon his wrist 
 what seemed a smear of blood but half washed 
 out. 
 
 " God save you, neighbor ! " said the locksmith, as 
 he followed her with the air of an old friend into a 
 little parlor where a cheerful fire was burning. 
 
 "And you," she answered, smiling. " Your kind 
 heart has brought you here again. Nothing will 
 keep you at home, I know of old, if there are 
 friends to serve or comfort out of doors." 
 
 " Tut, tut," returned the locksmith, rubbing his 
 hands and warming them. " You women are such 
 talkers. What of the patient, neighbor ? " 
 
 " He is sleeping now. He was very restless 
 towards daylight, and for some hours tossed and 
 tumbled sadly. But the fever has left him, and the 
 doctor says he will soon mend. He must not be re- 
 moved until to-morrow." 
 
 " He has had visitors to-day — humph ? " said 
 Gabriel slyly. 
 
 "Yes. Old Mr. Chester has been here ever since 
 we sent for him, and had not been gone many min- 
 utes when you knocked." 
 
 " No ladies ? " said Gabriel, elevating his eye- 
 brows and looking disappointed. 
 
 " A letter," replied the widow.
 
 UN A BY RTJDG] 
 
 "Coma That's better than nothing!" cried the 
 k :-ks:u::k. •■ '-V'.-. - = -;.- le^re: '. 
 karnaby, of course. 
 
 and goes with ease where we who think oursek a 
 mnch wiser would make but a poor hand of it. 
 
 is :u: :u: - - I 1: : v -e 
 
 Thank Heaven, he is in his bed ; having been 
 
 v.- .\k :.:;:.:. - ; ; k~ . .-.: A :u kis fee: A", lay. 
 A- was oite tired out. A... neighbor, if I could 
 "cur see kuu cfreuer s: — if I .A Au : - k~u 
 that terrible restlessness — " 
 
 -I- r:A ArueA sAfi rke A:k;uk:k kiuky. "La 
 
 .e?A. Ar.i ver. :k ::.A. sue 
 kr :: :kee: kvr. uuf; 5: ;ke 
 
 :ui- i :ke A k- 
 
 floor — 
 
 __ _ 
 
 
 Hek :. ku:~:r.r ' '. A '." ^ : .i V 
 in king his head. - 1 should be sorry to talk 
 :re:s " :e ki~. Ok! He's i ie~- us: ruer.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 65 
 
 " No," returned the -widow. " It was in the 
 street, I think. Hark ! Yes. There again ! Tis 
 some one knocking softly at the shutter. Who can 
 it be ? " 
 
 They had been speaking in a low tone, for the 
 invalid lay overhead, and the walls and ceilings 
 being thin and poorly built, the sound of their 
 voices might otherwise have disturbed his slumber. 
 The party without, whoever it was, could have stood 
 close to the shutter without hearing anything 
 spoken ; and, seeing the light through the chinks 
 and finding all so quiet, might have been persuaded 
 that only one person was there. 
 
 "Some thief or ruffian, maybe," said the lock- 
 smith. " Give me the light." 
 
 " No, no," she returned hastily. " Such visitors 
 have never come to this poor dwelling. Do you 
 stay here. You're within call, at the worst. I 
 would rather go myself — alone." 
 
 " Why ? " said the locksmith, unwillingly relin- 
 quishing the candle he had caught up from the 
 table. 
 
 " Because — I don't know why — because the wish 
 is strong upon me," she rejoined. " There again — 
 do not detain me, I beg of you ! " 
 
 Gabriel looked at her in great surprise to see one 
 who was usually so mild and quiet thus agitated, and 
 with so little cause. She left the room and closed 
 the door behind her. She stood for a moment, as if 
 hesitating with her hand upon the lock. In this 
 short interval the knocking came again, and a voice 
 close to the window — a voice the locksmith seemed 
 to recollect, and to have some disagreeable associa- 
 tion with — whispered, " Make haste." 
 
 VOL. I.-5.
 
 66 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 The words were uttered in that low distinct voice 
 which finds its way so readily to sleepers' ears, and 
 wakes them in a fright. For a moment it startled 
 even the locksmith, who involuntarily drew back 
 from the window, and listened. 
 
 The wind rumbling in the chimney made it diffi- 
 cult to hear what passed, but he could tell that the 
 door was opened, that there was the tread of a man 
 upon the creaking boards, and then a moment's 
 silence — broken by a suppressed something which 
 was not a shriek, or groan, or cry for help, and yet 
 might have been either or all three ; and the 
 words " My God ! " uttered in a voice it chilled him 
 to hear. 
 
 He rushed out upon the instant. There, at last, 
 was that dreadful look — the very one he seemed to 
 know so well, and yet had never seen before — upon 
 her face. There she stood frozen to the ground, 
 gazing with starting eyes, and livid cheeks, and 
 every feature fixed and ghastly, upon the man he 
 had encountered in the dark last night. His eyes 
 met those of the locksmith. It was but a flash, an 
 instant, a breath upon a polished glass, and he was 
 gone. 
 
 The locksmith was upon him — had the skirts of 
 his streaming garment almost in his grasp — when 
 his arms were tightly clutched, and the widow flung 
 herself upon the ground before him. 
 
 "The other way — the other way!" she cried. 
 " He went the other way. Turn — turn ! " 
 
 '• The other way ! I see him now," rejoined the 
 locksmith, pointing — " yonder — there — there is 
 his shadow passing by that light. What — who is 
 this ? Let me go."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 67 
 
 " Come back, come back ! " exclaimed the woman, 
 clasping him. " Do not touch him on your life. I 
 charge you, come back. He carries other lives besides 
 his own. Come back ! " 
 
 " What does this mean ? " cried the locksmith. 
 
 " No matter what it means, don't ask, don't speak, 
 don't think about it. He is not to be followed, 
 checked, or stopped. Come back ! " 
 
 The old man looked at her in wonder, as she 
 writhed and clung about him ; and borne down by 
 her passion, suffered her to drag him into the house. 
 It was not until she had chained and double-locked 
 the door, fastened every bolt and bar with the heat 
 and fury of a maniac, and drawn him back into the 
 room, that she turned upon him, once again, that 
 stony look of horror, and sinking down into a chair, 
 covered her face, and shuddered, as though the hand 
 of death were on her.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Beyond all measure astonished by the strange oc- 
 currences which had passed with so much violence 
 and rapidity, the locksmith gazed upon the shud- 
 dering figure in the chair like one half stupefied, 
 and would have gazed much longer, had not his 
 tongue been loosened by compassion and humanity. 
 
 " You are ill," said Gabriel. " Let me call some 
 neighbor in." 
 
 "Not for the world," she rejoined, motioning to 
 him with her trembling hand, and still holding her 
 face averted. " It is enough that you have been by 
 to see this." 
 
 " Nay, more than enough — or less," said Gabriel. 
 
 "Be it so," she returned. "As you like. Ask me 
 no questions, I entreat you." 
 
 "Neighbor," said the locksmith after a pause, "is 
 this fair, or reasonable, or just to yourself ? Is it 
 like you, who have known me so long and sought my 
 advice in all matters — like you, who from a girl 
 have had a strong mind and a stanch heart ? " 
 
 " I have had need of them," she replied. " I am 
 growing old, both in years and care. Perhaps that, 
 and too much trial, have made them weaker than 
 they used to be. Do not speak to me." 
 
 " How can I see what I have seen, and hold my 
 
 68
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 69 
 
 peace ? " returned the locksmith. " Who was that 
 man, and why has his coming made this change 
 in you ? " 
 
 She was silent, but held to the chair as though to 
 save herself from falling on the ground. 
 
 " I take the license of an old acquaintance, Mary," 
 said the locksmith, "who has ever had a warm 
 regard for you, and maybe has tried to prove it 
 when he could. Who is this ill-favored man, and 
 what has he to do with you ? who is this ghost, that 
 is only seen in the black nights and bad weather ? 
 How does he know, and why does he haunt, this 
 house, whispering through chinks and crevices, as if 
 there was that between him and you which neither 
 durst so much as speak aloud of ? Who is he ? " 
 
 "You do well to say he haunts this house," 
 returned the widow faintly. "His shadow has 
 been upon it and me in light and darkness, at noon- 
 day and midnight. And now, at last, he has come 
 in the body ! " 
 
 "But he wouldn't have gone in the body," 
 returned the locksmith with some irritation, "if 
 yon had left my arms and legs at liberty. What 
 riddle is it ? " 
 
 " It is one," she answered, rising as she spoke, 
 " that must remain forever as it is. I dare not say 
 more than that." 
 
 " Dare not ! " repeated the wondering locksmith. 
 
 " Do not press me," she replied. " I am sick and 
 faint, and every faculty of life seems dead within 
 me. — No ! Do not touch me either." 
 
 Gabriel, who had stepped forward to render her 
 assistance, fell back as she made this hasty excla- 
 mation, and regarded her in silent wonder.
 
 70 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 "Let me go my way alone," she said in a low- 
 voice, " and let the hands of no honest man touch 
 mine to-night." When she had tottered to the door, 
 she turned, and added with a stronger effort, " This 
 is a secret, which, of necessity, I trust to you. You 
 are a true man. As you have ever been good and 
 kind to me, keep it. If any noise was heard above, 
 make some excuse — say anything but what you 
 really saw, and never let a word or look between us 
 recall this circumstance. I trust to you. Mind, I 
 trust to you. How much I trust you never can con- 
 ceive." 
 
 Casting her eyes upon him for an instant, she 
 withdrew, and left him there alone. 
 
 Gabriel, not knowing what to think, stood staring 
 at the door with a countenance full of surprise and 
 dismay. The more he pondered on what had passed, 
 the less able he was to give it any favorable inter- 
 pretation. To find this widow woman, whose life 
 for so many years had been supposed to be one of 
 solitude and retirement, and who, in her quiet suffer- 
 ing character, had gained the good opinion and respect 
 of all who knew her — to find her linked mysteri- 
 ously with an ill-omened man, alarmed at his appear- 
 ance, and yet favoring his escape, was a discovery 
 that pained as much as it startled him. Her reli- 
 ance on his secrecy, and his tacit acquiescence, in- 
 creased his distress of mind. If he had spoken 
 boldly, persisted in questioning her, detained her 
 when she rose to leave the room, made any kind of 
 protest, instead of silently compromising himself, 
 as he felt he had done, he would have been more at 
 ease. 
 
 '• Why did I let her say it was a secret, and she
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 71 
 
 trusted it to me ? " said Gabriel, putting his wig on 
 one side to scratch his head with greater ease, and 
 looking ruefully at the fire. " I have no more readi- 
 ness than old John himself. Why didn't 1 say 
 firmly, ' You have no right to such secrets, and I 
 demand of you to tell me what this means,' instead 
 of standing gaping at her, like an old mooncalf as I 
 am ? But there's my weakness. I can be obstinate 
 enough with men if need be, but women may twist 
 me round their fingers at their pleasure." 
 
 He took his wig off outright as he made this 
 reflection, and, warming his handkerchief at the 
 fire, began to rub and polish his bald head with it 
 until it glistened again. 
 
 "And yet," said the locksmith, softening under 
 this soothing process, and stopping to smile, "it 
 may be nothing. Any drunken brawler trying to 
 make his way into the house would have alarmed a 
 quiet soul like her. But then " — and here was the 
 vexation — " how came it to be that man ; how 
 comes he to have this influence over her ; how came 
 she to favor his getting away from me ; and, more 
 than all, how came she not to say it was a sudden 
 fright, and nothing more ? It's a sad thing to have, 
 in one minute, reason to mistrust a person I have 
 known so long, and an old sweetheart into the bar- 
 gain : but what else can I do with all this upon my 
 mind ? — Is that Barnaby outside there ? " 
 
 " Ay ! " he cried, looking in and nodding. " Sure 
 enough it's Barnaby. How did you guess ? " 
 
 " By your shadow," said the locksmith. 
 
 "Oho ! " cried Barnaby, glancing over his shoulder. 
 " He's a merry fellow, that shadow, and keeps close 
 to me, though I am silly. We have such pranks,
 
 72 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 such walks, such runs, such gambols on the grass ! 
 Sometimes he'll be half as tall as a church steeple, 
 and sometimes no bigger than a dwarf. Now he 
 goes on before, and now behind, and anon he'll be 
 stealing slyly on, on this side, or on that, stopping 
 whenever I stop, and thinking I can't see him, 
 though I have my eye on him sharp enough. Oh ! 
 he's a merry fellow. Tell me — is he silly too ? I 
 think he is." 
 
 " Why ? " asked Gabriel. 
 
 " Because he never tires of mocking me, but does 
 it all day long. — Why don't you come ? " 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 "Upstairs. He wants you. Stay — where's his 
 shadow ? Come. You're a wise man ? tell me that." 
 
 " Beside him, Barnaby ; beside him, I suppose," 
 returned the locksmith. 
 
 " No ! " he replied, shaking his head. " Guess 
 again." 
 
 " Gone out a walking, maybe ? " 
 
 "He has changed shadows with a woman," the 
 idiot whispered in his ear, and then fell back with a 
 look of triumph. " Her shadow's always with him, 
 and his with her. That's sport I think, eh ? " 
 
 " Barnaby," said the locksmith with a grave look ; 
 "come hither, lad." 
 
 " I know what you want to say. I know ! " he 
 replied, keeping away from him. "But I'm cun- 
 ning, I'm silent. I only say so much to you. — Are 
 you ready ? ' As he spoke, he caught up the light, 
 and waved it with a wild laugh above his head. 
 
 " Softly — gently," said the locksmith, exerting 
 all his influence to keep him calm and quiet. "I 
 thought you had been asleep."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 73 
 
 " So I have been asleep," he rejoined with widely 
 opened eyes. " There have been great faces coming 
 and going — close to rny face, and then a mile away 
 — low places to creep through, whether I would or 
 no — high churches to fall down from — strange 
 creatures crowded up together neck and heels, to sit 
 upon the bed — that's sleep, eh ? " 
 
 " Dreams, Barnaby, dreams," said the locksmith. 
 
 " Dreams ! " he echoed softly, drawing closer to 
 him. "Those are not dreams." 
 
 " What are," replied the locksmith, " if they are 
 not ? " 
 
 "I dreamed," said Barnaby, passing his arm 
 through Varden's and peering close into his face 
 as he answered in a whisper, " I dreamed just now 
 that something — it was in the shape of a man — 
 followed me — came softly after me — wouldn't let 
 me be — but was always hiding and crouching like 
 a cat in dark corners, waiting till I should pass ; 
 when it crept out and came softly after me. — Did 
 you ever see me run ? " 
 
 " Many a time, you know." 
 
 " You never saw me run as I did in this dream. 
 Still it came creeping on to worry me. Nearer, 
 nearer, nearer — I ran faster — leaped — sprung out 
 of bed, and to the window — and there, in the street 
 
 below But he is waiting for us. Are you 
 
 ? " 
 
 " What in the street below, Barnaby ? " said 
 Varden, imagining that he traced some connection 
 between this vision and what had actually occurred. 
 
 Barnaby looked into his face, muttered inco- 
 herently, waved the light above his head again, 
 laughed, and drawing the locksmith's arm more 
 
 coming
 
 74 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 tightly through his own, led him up the stairs in 
 silence. 
 
 They entered a homely bedchamber, garnished in 
 a scanty way with chairs whose spindle-shanks 
 bespoke their age, and other furniture of very little 
 worth ; but clean and neatly kept. Reclining in 
 an easy-chair before the fire, pale and weak from 
 waste of blood, was Edward Chester, the young 
 gentleman who had been the first to quit the Mav- 
 pole on the previous night, and who, extending his 
 hand to the locksmith, welcomed him as LL pre- 
 server and friend. 
 
 "Say no more, sir, say no more," said Gabriel. 
 " I hope I would have done at least as much for any 
 man in such a strait, and most of all for you, sir. 
 A certain young lady," he added with some hesita- 
 tion, " has done us many a kind turn, and we natu- 
 rally feel — I hope I give you no offence in saying 
 this, sir ? " 
 
 The young man smiled and shook his head; at 
 the same time moving in his chair as if in pain. 
 
 " It's no great matter," he said, in answer to the 
 locksmith's sympathizing look, "a mere uneasiness, 
 arising at least as much from being cooped up here 
 as from the slight wound I have, or from the loss 
 of blood. Be seated, Mr. Varden." 
 
 "If I may make so bold, Mr. Edward, as to lean 
 u] ion your chair," returned the locksmith, accommo- 
 dating his action to his speech, and bending over 
 him. " I'll stand here, for the convenience of speak- 
 ing low. Barnaby is not in his quietest humor to- 
 night, and at such times talking never does him 
 good." 
 
 They both glanced at the subject of this remark,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 75 
 
 who had taken a seat on the other side of the fire, 
 and, smiling vacantly, was making puzzles on his 
 fingers with a skein of string. 
 
 "Fray tell me, sir," said Varden, dropping his 
 voice still lower, " exactly what happened last night. 
 I have my reason for inquiring. You left the May- 
 pole alone ? " 
 
 " And walked homeward alone until I had nearly 
 reached the place where you found me, when I heard 
 the gallop of a horse." 
 
 " Behind you ? " said the locksmith. 
 
 " Indeed, yes — behind me. It was a single rider, 
 who soon overtook me, and checking his horse, 
 inquired the way to London." 
 
 " You were on the alert, sir, knowing how many 
 highwaymen there are scouring the roads in all 
 directions ? " said Varden. 
 
 " I was, but I had only a stick, having impru- 
 dently left my pistols in their holster case with the 
 landlord's son. I directed him as he desired. Be- 
 fore the words had passed my lips, he rode upon me 
 furiously, as if bent on trampling me down beneath 
 his horse's hoofs. In starting aside, I slipped and 
 fell. You found me with this stab and an ugly 
 bruise or two, and without my purse — in which he 
 found little enough for his pains. And now, Mr. 
 Varden," he added, shaking the locksmith by the 
 hand, " saving the extent of my gratitude to you, 
 you know as much as I." 
 
 " Except," said Gabriel, bending down yet more, 
 and looking cautiously towards their silent neighbor, 
 "except in respect of the robber himself. What 
 like was he, sir ? Speak low, if you please. Bar- 
 naby means no harm, but I have watched him
 
 76 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 oftener than you, and I know, little as you would 
 think it, that he's listening now." 
 
 It required a strong confidence in the locksmith's 
 veracity to lead any one to this belief, for every 
 sense and faculty that Barnaby possessed seemed to 
 be fixed upon his game, to the exclusion of all other 
 things. Something in the young man's face ex- 
 pressed this opinion, for Gabriel repeated what he 
 had just said, more earnestly than before, and, with 
 another glance towards Barnaby, again asked what 
 like the man was. 
 
 "The night was so dark," said Edward, "the 
 attack so sudden, and he so wrapped and muffled up, 
 that I can hardly say. It seems that — " 
 
 "Don't mention his name, sir," returned the 
 locksmith, following his look towards Barnaby; 
 " I know he saw him. I want to know what you 
 saw." 
 
 " All I remember is," said Edward, " that as he 
 checked his horse his hat was blown off. He caught 
 it and replaced it on his head, which I observed was 
 bound with a dark handkerchief. A stranger entered 
 the Maypole while I was there, whom I had not 
 seen — for I sat apart for reasons of my own — and 
 when I rose to leave the room and glanced round, he 
 was in the shadow of the chimney, and hidden from 
 my sight. But if he and the robber were two differ- 
 ent persons, their voices were strangely and most 
 remarkably alike ; for directly the man addressed 
 me in the road, I recognized his speech again." 
 
 " It is as I feared. The very man was here to- 
 night," thought the locksmith, changing color. 
 " What dark history is this ? " 
 
 " Halloa ! " cried a hoarse voice in his ear. " Hal-
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 77 
 
 loa, halloa, halloa! Bow, wow, wow. What's the 
 matter here ? Halloa ! " 
 
 The speaker — who made the locksmith start as 
 if he had seen some supernatural agent — was a 
 large raven, who had perched upon the top of the 
 easy-chair, unseen by him and Edward, and listened 
 with a polite attention, and a most extraordinary 
 appearance of comprehending every word, to all 
 they had said up to this point; turning his head 
 from one to the other, as if his office were to judge 
 between them, and it were of the very last impor- 
 tance that he should not lose a word. 
 
 "Look at him!" said Varden, divided between 
 admiration of the bird and a kind of fear of him. 
 " Was there ever such a knowing imp as that ? Oh, 
 he's a dreadful fellow ! " 
 
 The raven, with his head very much on one side, 
 and his bright eye shining like a diamond, preserved 
 a thoughtful silence for a few seconds, and then 
 replied in a voice so hoarse and distant, that it 
 seemed to come through his thick feathers rather 
 than out of his mouth, — 
 
 " Halloa, halloa, halloa ! What's the matter here ? 
 Keep up your spirits. Never say die. Bow, wow, 
 wow. I'm a devil, I'm a devil, I'm a devil. Hur- 
 rah ! " — And then, as if exulting in his infernal 
 character, he began to whistle. 
 
 "I more than half believe he speaks the truth. 
 Upon my word I do," said Varden. " Do you see 
 how he looks at me, as if he knew what I was 
 saying ? " 
 
 To which the bird, balancing himself on tiptoe, 
 as it were, and moving his body up and down in a 
 sort of grave dance, rejoined, " I'm a devil, I'm a
 
 78 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 devil, I'm a devil," and flapped his wings against 
 his sides as if he were bursting with laughter. 
 Barnaby clapped his hands, and fairly rolled upon 
 the ground in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 "Strange companions, sir," said the locksmith, 
 shaking his head, and looking from one to the other. 
 " The bird has all the wit." 
 
 " Strange indeed ! " said Edward, holding out his 
 forefinger to the raven, who, in acknowledgment of 
 the attention, made a dive at it immediately with 
 his iron bill. " Is he old ? " 
 
 "A mere boy, sir," replied the locksmith. "A 
 hundred and twenty, or thereabouts. Call him 
 down, Barnaby, my man." 
 
 " Call him ! " echoed Barnaby, sitting upright 
 upon the floor, and staring vacantly at Gabriel, as 
 he thrust his hair back from his face. " But who 
 can make him come ? He calls me, and makes me 
 go where he will. He goes on before, and I follow. 
 He's the master, and I'm the man. Is that the 
 truth, Grip ? " 
 
 The raven gave a short, comfortable, confidential 
 kind of croak — a most expressive croak, which 
 seemed to say, " You needn't let these fellows into 
 our secrets. We understand each other. It's all 
 right." 
 
 " I make him come ! " cried Barnaby, pointing to 
 the bird. " Him, who never goes to sleep, or so 
 much as winks ! — Why, any time of night, you may 
 see his eyes in my dark room, shining like two 
 sparks. And every night, and all night too, he's 
 broad awake, talking to himself, thinking what he 
 shall do to-morrow, where we shall go, and what he 
 shall steal, and hide, and bury. 7 make him come ! 
 Ha, ha, ha ! "
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 79 
 
 On second thoughts, the bird appeared disposed 
 to come of himself. After a short survey of the 
 ground, and a few sidelong looks at the ceiling and 
 at everybody present in turn, he fluttered to the 
 floor, and went to Barnaby — not in a hop, or walk, 
 or run, but in a pace like that of a very particular 
 gentleman with exceedingly tight boots on, trying 
 to walk fast over loose pebbles. Then, stepping 
 into his extended hand, and condescending to be 
 held out at arm's-length, he gave vent to a succes- 
 sion of sounds, not unlike the drawing of some 
 eight or ten dozen of long corks, and again asserted 
 his brimstone birth and parentage with great dis- 
 tinctness. 
 
 The locksmith shook his head — perhaps in some 
 doubt of the creature's being really nothing but a 
 bird — perhaps in pity for Barnaby, who by this 
 time had him in his arms, and was rolling about 
 with him on the ground. As he raised his eyes 
 from the poor fellow, he encountered those of his 
 mother, who had entered the room, and was looking 
 on in silence. 
 
 She was quite white in the face, even to her lips, 
 but had wholly subdued her emotion, and wore her 
 usual quiet look. Varden fancied as he glanced at 
 her that she shrunk from his eye ; and that she 
 busied herself about the wounded gentleman to 
 avoid him the better. 
 
 It was time he went to bed, she said. He was to 
 be removed to his own home on the morrow, and he 
 had already exceeded his time for sitting up by a 
 full hour. Acting on this hint, the locksmith pre- 
 pared to take his leave. 
 
 " By the by," said Edward as he shook him by
 
 80 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 the hand, and looked from him to Mrs. Rudge and 
 back again, " what noise was that below ? I heard 
 your voice in the midst of it, and should have in- 
 quired before, but our other conversation drove it 
 from my memory. What was it ? " 
 
 The locksmith looked towards her, and bit his 
 lip. She leant against the chair, and bent her eyes 
 upon the ground. Barnaby too — he was listening. 
 
 " Some mad or drunken fellow, sir," Varden at 
 length made answer, looking steadily at the widow 
 as he spoke. " He mistook the house, and tried to 
 force an entrance." 
 
 She breathed more freely, but stood quite motion- 
 less. As the locksmith said " Good-night," and Bar- 
 naby caught up the candle to light him down the 
 stairs, she took it from him, and charged him — 
 with more haste and earnestness than so slight an 
 occasion appeared to warrant — not to stir. The 
 raven followed them to satisfy himself that all was 
 right below, and when they reached the street-door, 
 stood on the bottom stair drawing corks out of 
 number. 
 
 With a trembling hand she unfastened the chain 
 and bolts and turned the key. As she had her hand 
 upon the latch, the locksmith said in a low voice, — 
 
 " I have told a lie to-night for your sake, Mary, 
 and for the sake of bygone times and old acquaint- 
 ance, when I would scorn to do so for my own. I 
 hope I may have done no harm, or led to none. I 
 can't help the suspicions you have forced upon me, 
 and I am loath, I tell you plainly, to leave Mr. 
 Edward here. Take care he comes to no hurt. I 
 doubt the safety of this roof, and am glad he leaves 
 it so soon. Now let me go."
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 81 
 
 For a moment she hid her face in her hands, and 
 wept ; but, resisting the strong impulse which evi- 
 dently moved her to reply, opened the door — no 
 wider than was sufficient for the passage of his 
 body — and motioned him away. As the locksmith 
 stood upon the step, it was chained and locked be- 
 hind him, and the raven, in furtherance of these pre- 
 cautions, barked like a lusty house-dog. 
 
 " In league with that ill-looking figure that might 
 have fallen from a gibbet — he listening and hiding 
 here — Barnaby first upon the spot last night — can 
 she who has always borne so fair a name be guilty 
 of such crimes in secret ? " said the locksmith, mus- 
 ing. " Heaven forgive me if I am wrong, and send 
 me just thoughts ; but she is poor, the temptation 
 may be great, and we daily hear of things as strange. 
 — Ay, bark away, my friend. If there's any wicked- 
 ness going on, that raven's in it, I'll be sworn." 
 
 VOL. I.-6.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Mrs. Varden was a lady of what is commonly 
 called an uncertain temper — a phrase which, being 
 interpreted, signifies a temper tolerably certain to 
 make everybody more or less uncomfortable. Thus 
 it generally happened that when other people were 
 merry, Mrs. Varden was dull : and that when other 
 people were dull, Mrs. Varden was disposed to be 
 amazingly cheerful. Indeed, the worthy housewife 
 was of such a capricious nature, that she not only 
 attained a higher pitch of genius than Macbeth, in 
 respect of her ability to be wise, amazed, temperate 
 and furious, loyal and neutral in an instant, but 
 would sometimes ring the changes backwards and 
 forwards on all possible moods and flights in one 
 short quarter of an hour ; performing, as it were, a 
 kind of triple bob major on the peal of instruments 
 in the female belfry, with a skilfulness and rapidity 
 of execution that astonished all who heard her. 
 
 It had been observed in this good lady (who did 
 not want for personal attractions, being plump and 
 buxom to look at, though, like her fair daughter, 
 somewhat short in stature) that this uncertainty of 
 disposition strengthened and increased with her 
 temporal prosperity ; and divers wise men and 
 matrons on friendly terms with the locksmith and 
 
 82
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 83 
 
 his family even went so far as to assert, that a 
 tumble down some half-dozen rounds in the world's 
 ladder — such as the breaking of the bank in which 
 her husband kept his money, or some little fall of 
 that kind — would be the making of her, and could 
 hardly fail to render her one of the most agreeable 
 companions in existence. Whether they were right 
 or wrong in this conjecture, certain it is that minds, 
 like bodies, will often fall into a pimpled, ill-condi- 
 tioned state from mere excess of comfort, and, like 
 them, are often successfully cured by remedies in 
 themselves very nauseous and unpalatable. 
 
 Mrs. Varden's chief aider and abettor, and at the 
 same time her principal victim and object of wrath, 
 was her single domestic servant, one Miss Miggs ; 
 or, as she was called, in conformity with those preju- 
 dices of society which lop and top from poor hand- 
 maidens all such genteel excrescences — Miggs. 
 This Miggs was a tall young lady, very much ad- 
 dicted to pattens in private life ; slender and 
 shrewish, of a rather uncomfortable figure, and, 
 though not absolutely ill-looking, of a sharp and 
 acid visage. As a general principle and abstract 
 proposition, Miggs held the male sex to be utterly 
 contemptible and unworthy of notice ; to be fickle, 
 false, base, sottish, inclined to perjury and wholly 
 undeserving. When particularly exasperated against 
 them (which, scandal said, was when Sim Tappertit 
 slighted her most), she was accustomed to wish with 
 great emphasis that the whole race of women could 
 but die off, in order that the men might be brought 
 to know the real value of the blessings by which 
 they set so little store ; nay, her feeling for her 
 order ran so high, that she sometimes declared, if
 
 84 BAItNABY liUDGE. 
 
 she could only have good security for a fair, round 
 number — say ten thousand — of young virgins fol- 
 lowing her example, she would, to spite mankind, 
 hang, drown, stab, or poison herself, with a joy past 
 all expression. 
 
 It was the voice of Miggs that greeted the lock- 
 smith, when he knocked at his own house, with a 
 shrill cry of " Who's there ? " 
 
 " Me, girl, me," returned Gabriel. 
 
 " What, already, sir ! " said Miggs, with a look of 
 surprise. " We was just getting on our nightcaps 
 to sit up — me and mistress. Oh, she has been so 
 bad ! " 
 
 Miggs said this with an air of uncommon candor 
 and concern ; but the parlor-door was standing open, 
 and, as Gabriel very well knew for whose ears it was 
 designed, he regarded her with anything but an 
 approving look as he passed in. 
 
 " Master's come home, mini," cried Miggs, running 
 before him into the parlor. " You was wrong, mini, 
 and I was right. I thought he wouldn't keep us up 
 so late two nights running, mini. Master's always 
 considerate so far. I'm so glad, mini, on your ac- 
 count. I'm a little " — here Miggs simpered — "a 
 little sleepy myself; I'll own it now, mim, though 
 I said I wasn't when you asked me. It ain't of no 
 consequence, mini, of course." 
 
 " You had better," said the locksmith, who most 
 devoutly wished that Barnaby's raven was at 
 Miggs's ankles, "you had better get to bed at once 
 then." 
 
 "Thanking you kindly, sir," returned Miggs, "I 
 couldn't take my rest in peace, nor fix my thoughts 
 upon my prayers, otherways than that I knew mis-
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 85 
 
 tress was comfortable in her bed this night; by 
 rights she should have been there hours ago." 
 
 " You're talkative, mistress," said Varden, pulling 
 off his great-coat, and looking at her askew. 
 
 " Taking the hint, sir," cried Miggs, with a flushed 
 face, " and thanking you for it most kindly, I will 
 make bold to say, that if I give offence by having 
 consideration for my mistress, I do not ask your 
 pardon, but am content to get myself into trouble 
 and to be in suffering." 
 
 Here Mrs. Varden, who, with her countenance 
 shrouded in a large nightcap, had been all this time 
 intent upon the Protestant Manual, looked round, 
 and acknowledged Miggs's championship by com- 
 manding her to hold her tongue. 
 
 Every little bone in Miggs's throat and neck 
 developed itself with a spitefulness quite alarming, 
 as she replied, "Yes, mim, I will." 
 
 " How do you find yourself now, my dear ? " 
 said the locksmith, taking a chair near his wife (who 
 had resumed her book), and rubbing his knees hard 
 as he made the inquiry. 
 
 " You're very anxious to know, ain't you ? " 
 returned Mrs. Varden, with her eyes upon the print. 
 " You, that have not been near me all day, and 
 wouldn't have been if I was dying ! " 
 
 "My dear Martha — " said Gabriel. 
 
 Mrs. Varden turned over to the next page ; then 
 went back again to the bottom line overleaf to be 
 quite sure of the last words, and then went on read- 
 ing with an appearance of the deepest interest and 
 study. 
 
 " My dear Martha," said the locksmith, "how can 
 you say such things, when you know you don't mean
 
 86 BAENABY EUDGE. 
 
 them ? If you were dying ! Why, if there was 
 anything serious the matter with you, Martha, 
 shouldn't I be in constant attendance upon you ? " 
 
 "Yes!" cried Mrs. Varden, bursting into tears, 
 "yes, you would. I don't doubt it, Varden. Cer- 
 tainly you would. That's as much as to tell me 
 that you would be hovering round me like a vulture, 
 waiting till the breath was out of my body, that you 
 might go and marry somebody else." 
 
 Miggs groaned in sympathy — a little short groan, 
 checked in its birth, and changed into a cough. It 
 seemed to say, "I can't help it. It's wrung from 
 me by the dreadful brutality of that monster 
 master." 
 
 " But you'll break my heart one of these days," 
 added Mrs. Varden with more resignation, " and 
 then we shall both be happy. My only desire is to 
 see Dolly comfortably settled, and when she is you 
 may settle vie as soon as you like." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Miggs — and coughed again. 
 
 Poor Gabriel twisted his wig about in silence for 
 a long time, and then said mildly, "Has Dolly gone 
 to bed ? " 
 
 " Your master speaks to you," said Mrs. Varden, 
 looking sternly over her shoulder at Miss Miggs in 
 waiting. 
 
 "No, my dear, I spoke to you," suggested the 
 locksmith. 
 
 " Did you hear me, Miggs ? " cried the obdurate 
 lady, stamping her foot upon the ground. "You are 
 beginning to despise me now, are you ? But this is 
 example ! " 
 
 At this cruel rebuke, Miggs, whose tears were 
 always ready, for large or small parties, on the
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 87 
 
 shortest notice and the most reasonable terms, fell a 
 crying violently ; holding both her hands tight upon 
 her heart meanwhile ; as if nothing less would pre- 
 vent its splitting into small fragments. Mrs. Var- 
 den, who likewise possessed that faculty in high 
 perfection, wept too, against Miggs ; and with such 
 effect that Miggs gave in after a time, and except for 
 an occasional sob, which seemed to threaten some 
 remote intention of breaking out again, left her 
 mistress in possession of the field. Her superiority 
 being thoroughly asserted, that lady soon desisted 
 likewise, and fell into a quiet melancholy. 
 
 The relief was so great, and the fatiguing occur- 
 rences of last night so completely overpowered the 
 locksmith, that he nodded in his chair, and would 
 doubtless have slept there all night, but for the 
 voice of Mrs. Varden, which, after a pause of some 
 five minutes, awoke him with a start. 
 
 " If I am ever," said Mrs. V. — not scolding, but 
 in a sort of monotonous remonstrance — " in spirits, 
 if I am ever cheerful, if I am ever more than 
 usually disposed to be talkative and comfortable, 
 this is the way I am treated." 
 
 " Such spirits as you was in too, mim, but half 
 an hour ago ! " cried Miggs. " I never see such 
 company ! " 
 
 "Because," said Mrs. Varden, " because I never 
 interfere or interrupt, because I never question 
 where anybody comes or goes ; because my whole 
 mind and soul is bent on saving where I can save, 
 and laboring in this house — therefore, they try me 
 as they do." 
 
 "Martha," urged the locksmith, endeavoring to 
 look as wakeful as possible, " what is it you com-
 
 88 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 plain of ? I really came home with every wish and 
 desire to be happy. I did, indeed." 
 
 " What do I complain of ? " retorted his wife. 
 " Is it a chilling thing to have one's husband sulk- 
 ing and falling asleep directly he comes home — to 
 have him freezing all one's warm-heartedness, and 
 throwing cold water over the fireside ? Is it natural, 
 when I know he went out upon a matter in which I 
 am as much interested as anybody can be, that I 
 should wish to know all that has happened, or that 
 he should tell me without my begging and praying 
 him to do it ? Is that natural, or is it not ? " 
 
 " I am very sorry, Martha," said the good-natured 
 locksmith. " I was really afraid you were not dis- 
 posed to talk pleasantly ; I'll tell you everything ; I 
 shall only be too glad, my dear." 
 
 " No, Varden," returned his wife, rising with dig- 
 nit}'. " I dare say — thank you ! I'm not a child 
 to be corrected one minute and petted the next — 
 I'm a little too old for that, Varden. Miggs, carry 
 the light. You can be cheerful, Miggs, at least." 
 
 Miggs, who, to this moment, had been in the very 
 depths of compassionate despondency, passed in- 
 stantly into the liveliest state conceivable, and toss- 
 ing her head as she glanced towards the locksmith, 
 bore off her mistress and the light together. 
 
 " Now, who would think," thought Varden, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders and drawing his chair nearer to 
 the fire, "that that woman could ever be pleasant 
 and agreeable ? And yet she can be. Well, well, 
 all of us have our faults. I'll not be hard upon 
 hers. We have been man and wife too long for 
 that." 
 
 He dozed again — not the less pleasantly, perhaps,
 
 BAENABY EUDGE. 89 
 
 for his hearty temper. While his eyes were closed, 
 the door leading to the upper stairs was partially 
 opened ; and a head appeared, which, at sight of 
 him, hastily drew back again. 
 
 " I wish," murmured Gabriel, waking at the noise, 
 and looking round the room, " I wish somebody 
 would marry Miggs. But that's impossible ! I 
 wonder whether there's any madman alive who 
 would marry Miggs ! " 
 
 This was such a vast speculation that he fell into 
 a doze again, and slept until the fire was quite burnt 
 out. At last he roused himself ; and having 
 double-locked the street-door according to custom, 
 and put the key in his pocket, went off to bed. 
 
 He had not left the room in darkness many min- 
 utes, when the head again appeared, and Sim Tap- 
 pertit entered, bearing in his hand a little lamp. 
 
 " What the devil business has he to stop up so 
 late ? " muttered Sim, passing into the workshop, 
 and setting it down upon the forge. " Here's half 
 the night gone already. There's only one good that 
 has ever come to me out of this cursed old rusty 
 mechanical trade, and that's this piece of ironmong- 
 ery, upon my soul ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he drew from the right hand, or 
 rather right leg pocket of his smalls a clumsy large- 
 sized key, which he inserted cautiously in the lock 
 his master had secured, and softly opened the door. 
 That done, he replaced his piece of secret workman- 
 ship in his pocket ; and leaving the lamp burning, 
 and closing the door carefully and without noise, 
 stole out into the street — as little suspected by the 
 locksmith, in his sound deep sleep, as by Barnaby 
 himself in his phantom-haunted dreams.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Clear of the locksmith's house, Sim Tappertit 
 laid aside his cautious manner, and assuming in its 
 stead that of a ruffling, swaggering, roving blade, 
 who would rather kill a man than otherwise, and 
 eat him too if needful, made the best of his way 
 along the darkened streets. 
 
 Half pausing for an instant now and then to 
 smite his pocket and assure himself of the safety 
 of his master key, he hurried on to Barbican, and 
 turning into one of the narrowest of the narrow 
 streets which diverged from that centre, slackened 
 his pace and wiped his heated brow, as if the ter- 
 mination of his walk were near at hand. 
 
 It was not a very choice spot for midnight expe- 
 ditions, being in truth one of more than question- 
 able character, and of an appearance by no means 
 inviting. From the main street he had entered, itself 
 little better than an alley, a low-browed doorway led 
 into a blind court or yard, profoundly dark, unpaved, 
 and reeking with stagnant odors. Into this ill-fav- 
 ored pit the locksmith's vagrant 'prentice groped his 
 way ; and stopping at a house from whose defaced 
 and rotten front the rude effigy of a bottle swun"- 
 to and fro like some gibbeted malefactor, struck 
 thrice upon an iron grating with his foot. After 
 
 90
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 91 
 
 listening in vain for some response to his signal, Mr. 
 Tappertit became impatient, and struck the grating 
 thrice again. 
 
 A further delay ensued, but it was not of long 
 duration. The ground seemed to open at his feet, 
 and a ragged head appeared. 
 
 " Is that the captain ? " said a voice as ragged as 
 the head. 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Tappertit haughtily, descend- 
 ing as he spoke, " who should it be ? " 
 
 " It's so late, we gave you up," returned the voice, 
 as its owner stopped to shut and fasten the grating. 
 " You're late, sir." 
 
 "Lead on," said Mr. Tappertit with a gloomy 
 majesty, " and make remarks when I require you. 
 Forward ! " 
 
 This latter word of command was perhaps some- 
 what theatrical and unnecessary, inasmuch as the 
 descent was by a very narrow, steep, and slippery 
 flight of steps, and any rashness or departure from 
 the beaten track must have ended in a yawning 
 water-butt. But Mr. Tappertit being, like some 
 other great commanders, favorable to strong effects 
 and personal display, cried " Forward ! " again, in 
 the hoarsest voice he could assume ; and led the 
 way, with folded arms and knitted brows, to the 
 cellar down below, where there was a small copper 
 fixed in one corner, a chair or two, a form and table, 
 a glimmering fire, and a truckle-bed, covered with a 
 ragged patchwork rug. 
 
 " Welcome, noble captain ! " cried a lanky figure, 
 rising as from a nap. 
 
 The captain nodded. Then, throwing off his 
 outer coat, he stood composed in all his dignity, and 
 eyed his follower over.
 
 92 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 " What news to-night ? " he asked, when he had 
 looked into his very soul. 
 
 "Nothing particular," replied the other, stretch- 
 ing himself — and he was so long already that it was 
 quite alarming to see him do it. " How come you 
 to be so late ? " 
 
 " Xo matter," was all the captain deigned to say 
 in answer. " Is the room prepared ? " 
 
 " It is," replied his follower. 
 
 " The comrade — is he here ? " 
 
 " Yes. And a sprinkling of the others — you 
 hear 'em ? " 
 
 "Playing skittles!" said the captain moodily. 
 "Lirfit-hearted revellers ! " 
 
 There was no doubt respecting the particular 
 amusement in which these heedless spirits were 
 indulging, for even in the close and stifling atmos- 
 phere of the vault, the noise sounded like distant 
 thunder. It certainly appeared, at first sight, a 
 singular spot to choose, for that or any other pur- 
 pose of relaxation, if the other cellars answered to 
 the one in which this brief colloquy took place ; for 
 the floors were of sodden earth, the walls and roof 
 of damp bare brick tapestried with the tracks of 
 snails and slugs ; the air was sickening, tainted, and 
 offensive. It seemed, from one strong flavor which 
 was uppermost among the various odors of the 
 place, that it had, at no very distant period, been 
 used as a storehouse for cheeses ; a circumstance 
 which, while it accounted for the greasy moisture 
 that hung about it, was agreeably suggestive of rats. 
 It was naturally damp besides, and little trees of 
 fungus sprung from every mouldering corner. 
 
 The proprietor of this charming retreat, and
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 93 
 
 owner of the ragged head before mentioned — for 
 he wore an old tie-wig as bare and frowzy as a 
 stunted hearth-broom — had by this time joined 
 them ; and stood a little apart, rubbing his hands, 
 wagging his hoary bristled chin, and smiling in 
 silence. His eyes were closed ; but had they been 
 wide open, it would have been easy to tell, from the 
 attentive expression of the face he turned towards 
 them — pale and unwholesome, as might be expected, 
 in one of his underground existence — and from a 
 certain anxious raising and quivering of the lids, 
 that he was blind. 
 
 "Even Stagg hath been asleep," said the long 
 comrade, nodding towards this person. 
 
 " Sound, captain, sound ! " cried the blind man. 
 " What does my noble captain drink — is it brandy, 
 rum, usquebagh ? Is it soaked gunpowder, or blaz- 
 ing oil ? Give it a name, heart of oak, and we'd 
 get it for you, if it was wine from a bishop's cellar, 
 or melted gold from King George's mint." 
 
 " See," said Mr. Tappertit haughtily, " that it's 
 something strong, and comes quick ; and so long as 
 you take care of that, you may bring it from the 
 devil's cellar, if you like." 
 
 " Boldly said, noble captain ! " rejoined the blind 
 man. " Spoken like the 'Prentices' Glory ! Ha, ha! 
 From the devil's cellar ! A brave joke ! The cap- 
 tain joketh ! Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " I'll tell you what, my fine feller," said Mr. Tap- 
 pertit, eying the host over as he walked to a closet, 
 and took out a bottle and glass as carelessly as if he 
 had been in full possession of his sight, "if you 
 make that row, you'll find that the captain's very 
 far from joking, and so I tell you."
 
 94 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " He's got his eyes on me ! " cried Stagg, stopping 
 short on his way back, and affecting to screen his 
 face with the bottle. "I feel 'em, though I can't 
 see 'em. Take 'em off, noble captain. Remove 
 'em, for they pierce like gimlets." 
 
 Mr. Tappertit smiled grimly at his comrade, and 
 twisting out one more look — a kind of ocular 
 screw — under the influence of which the blind 
 man feigned to undergo great anguish and torture, 
 bade him, in a softened tone, approach, and hold his 
 peace. 
 
 " I obey you, captain," cried Stagg, drawing close 
 to him and filling out a bumper without spilling a 
 drop, by reason that he held his little finger at the 
 brim of the glass, and stopped at the instant the 
 liquor touched it; "drink, noble governor. Death 
 to all masters, life to all 'prentices, and love to all 
 fair damsels. Drink, brave general, and warm your 
 gallant heart ! " 
 
 Mr. Tappertit condescended to take the glass 
 from his outstretched hand. Stagg then dropped 
 on one knee, and gently smoothed the calves of his 
 legs, with an air of humble admiration. 
 
 " That I had but eyes ! " he cried, " to behold my 
 captain's symmetrical proportions ! That I had but 
 eyes to look upon these twin invaders of domestic 
 peace ! " 
 
 " Get out ! " said Mr. Tappertit, glancing down- 
 ward at his favorite limbs. " Go along, will you, 
 Stagg ? " 
 
 " When I touch my own afterwards," cried the 
 host, smiting them reproachfully, "I hate 'em. 
 Comparatively speaking, they've no more shape 
 than wooden legs beside these models of my 
 noble captain's."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 95 
 
 "Yours!" exclaimed Mr. Tappertit. "No, I 
 should think not. Don't talk about those pre- 
 cious old toothpicks in the same breath with 
 mine ; that's rather too much. Here. Take the 
 glass. Benjamin. Lead on. To business ! " 
 
 With these words, he folded his arms again ; and 
 frowning with a sullen majesty, passed with his 
 companion through a little door at the upper end 
 of the cellar, and disappeared, leaving Stagg to his 
 private meditations. 
 
 The vault they entered, strewn with sawdust 
 and dimly lighted, was between the outer one 
 from which they had just come, and that in 
 which the skittle players were diverting them- 
 selves ; as was manifested by the increased noise 
 and clamor of tongues, which was suddenly stopped, 
 however, and replaced by a dead silence, at a signal 
 from the long comrade. Then, this young gentle- 
 man, going to a little cupboard, returned with a 
 thigh-bone, which in former times must have been 
 part and parcel of some individual at least as long 
 as himself, and placed the same in the hands of Mr. 
 Tappertit; who, receiving it as a sceptre and staff 
 of authority, cocked his three-cornered hat fiercely 
 on the top of his head, and mounted a large table, 
 whereupon a chair of state, cheerfully ornamented 
 with a couple of skulls, was placed ready for his 
 reception. 
 
 He had no sooner assumed this position than 
 another young gentleman appeared, bearing in his 
 arms a huge clasped book, who made him a profound 
 obeisance, and delivering it to the long comrade, 
 advanced to the table, and turning his back upon it, 
 stood there Atlas-wise. Then, the long comrade got
 
 96 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 upon the table too ; and seating himself in a lower 
 chair than Mr. Tappertit's, with much state and 
 ceremony, placed the large book on the shoulders of 
 their mute companion as deliberately as if he had 
 been a wooden desk, and prepared to make entries 
 therein with a pen of common size. 
 
 When the long comrade had made these prepara- 
 tions, he looked towards Mr. Tappertit; and Mr. 
 Tappertit, flourishing the bone, knocked nine times 
 therewith upon one of the skulls. At the ninth 
 stroke, a third young gentleman emerged from the 
 door leading to the skittle-ground, and bowing low, 
 awaited his commands. 
 
 " 'Prentice ! " said the mighty captain, " who waits 
 without ? " 
 
 The 'prentice made answer that a stranger was in 
 attendance, who claimed admission into that secret 
 society of 'Prentice Knights, and a free participa- 
 tion in their rights, privileges, and immunities. 
 Thereupon Mr. Tappertit flourished the bone again, 
 and giving the other skull a prodigious rap on the 
 nose, exclaimed, " Admit him ! " At these dread 
 words the 'prentice bowed once more, and so with- 
 drew as he had come. 
 
 There soon appeared at the same door two other 
 'prentices, having between them a third, whose eyes 
 were bandaged, and who was attired in a bag-wig, 
 and a broad-skirted coat, trimmed witli tarnished 
 lace ; and who was girded with a sword, in com- 
 pliance with the laws of the Institution regulating 
 the introduction of candidates, which required them 
 to assume this courtly dress, and kept it constantly 
 in lavender, for their convenience. One of the 
 conductors of this novice held a rusty blunder-
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 97 
 
 buss pointed towards his ear, and the other a very 
 ancient sabre, with which he carved imaginary 
 offenders as he came along in a sanguinary and 
 anatomical manner. 
 
 As this silent group advanced, Mr. Tappertit fixed 
 his hat upon his head. The novice then laid his 
 hand upon his breast, and bent before him. When 
 he had humbled himself sufficiently, the captain 
 ordered the bandage to be removed, and proceeded 
 to eye him over. 
 
 "Ha!" said the captain thoughtfully, when he 
 had concluded this ordeal. " Proceed." 
 
 The long comrade read aloud as follows : — " Mark 
 Gilbert. Age, nineteen. Bound to Thomas Curzon, 
 hosier, Golden Fleece, Aldgate. Loves Curzon's 
 daughter. Cannot say that Curzon's daughter loves 
 him. Should think it probable. Curzon pulled his 
 ears last Tuesday week." 
 
 " How ! " cried the captain, starting. 
 
 "For looking at his daughter, please you," said 
 the novice. 
 
 "Write Curzon down, Denounced," said the cap- 
 tain. "Put a black cross against the name of 
 Curzon." 
 
 " So please you," said the novice, " that's not the 
 worst — he calls his 'prentice idle dog, and stops his 
 beer unless he works to his liking. He gives Dutch 
 cheese, too, eating Cheshire, sir, himself; and Sun- 
 days out are only once a month." 
 
 "This," said Mr. Tappertit gravely, "is a flagrant 
 case. Put two black crosses to the name of Curzon." 
 
 " If the society," said the novice, who was an ill- 
 looking, one-sided, shambling lad, with sunken eyes 
 set close together in his head — " if the society 
 
 VOL. I.-7.
 
 98 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 would burn his house down — for he's not insured 
 — or beat him as he comes home from his club at 
 night, or help me to carry off his daughter, and 
 marry her at the Fleet, whether she gave consent or 
 no — " 
 
 Mr. Tappertit waved his grisly truncheon as an 
 admonition to him not to interrupt, and ordered 
 three black crosses to the name of Curzon. 
 
 " Which means," he said in gracious explanation, 
 "vengeance, complete and terrible. 'Prentice, do 
 you love the Constitution ? " 
 
 To which the novice (being to that end instructed 
 by his attendant sponsors) replied, " I do ! " 
 
 "The Church, the State, and everything estab- 
 lished — but the masters ? " quoth the captain. 
 
 Again the novice said, " I do." 
 
 Having said it, he listened meekly to the captain, 
 who, in an address prepared for such occasions, told 
 him how that under that same Constitution (which 
 was kept in a strong box somewhere, but where 
 exactly he could not find out, or he would have 
 endeavored to procure a copy of it), the 'prentices 
 had, in times gone by, had frequent holidays of 
 right, broken people's heads by scores, defied their 
 masters, nay, even achieved some glorious murders 
 in the streets, which privileges had gradually been 
 wrested from them, and in all which noble aspira- 
 tions they were now restrained ; how the degrading 
 checks imposed upon them were unquestionably 
 attributable to the innovating spirit of the times, 
 and how they united, therefore, to resist all change, 
 exec j >t such change as would restore those good old 
 English customs, by which they would stand or fall. 
 After illustrating the wisdom of going backward by
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 99 
 
 reference to that sagacious fish, the crab, and the not 
 unfrequent practice of the mule and donkey, he 
 described their general objects : which were briefly 
 vengeance on their Tyrant Masters (of whose griev- 
 ous and insupportable oppression no 'prentice could 
 entertain a moment's doubt), and the restoration, 
 as aforesaid, of their ancient rights and holidays ; 
 for neither of which objects were they now quite 
 ripe, being barely twenty strong, but which they 
 pledged themselves to pursue with fire and sword 
 when needful. Then he described the oath which 
 every member of that small remnant of a noble 
 body took, and which was of a dreadful and im- 
 pressive kind; binding him, at the bidding of his 
 chief, to resist and obstruct the Lord Mayor, sword- 
 bearer, and chaplain ; to despise the authority of the 
 sheriffs; and to hold the Court of Aldermen as 
 naught ; but not on any account, in case the fulness 
 of time should bring a general rising of 'prentices, 
 to damage or in any way disfigure Temple Bar, 
 which was strictly constitutional, and always to be 
 approached with reverence. Having gone over these 
 several heads with great eloquence and force, and 
 having further informed the novice that this society 
 had had its origin in his own teeming brain, stimu- 
 lated by a swelling sense of wrong and outrage, Mr. 
 Tappertit demanded whether he had strength of 
 heart to take the mighty pledge required, or whether 
 he would withdraw while retreat was yet within his 
 power. 
 
 To this the novice made rejoinder that he would 
 take the vow, though it should choke him ; and it 
 was accordingly administered with many impressive 
 circumstances, among which the lighting up of the
 
 100 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 two skulls with a candle-end inside of each, and a 
 great many nourishes with the bone, were chiefly 
 conspicuous; not to mention a variety of grave 
 exercises with the blunderbuss and sabre, and some 
 dismal groaning by unseen 'prentices without. All 
 these dark and direful ceremonies being at length 
 completed, the table was put aside, the chair of 
 state removed, the sceptre locked up in its usual 
 cupboard, the doors of communication between the 
 three cellars thrown freely open, and the 'Prentice 
 Knights resigned themselves to merriment. 
 
 But Mr. Tappertit, who had a soul above the 
 vulgar herd, and who, on account of his greatness, 
 could only afford to be merry now and then, threw 
 himself on a bench with the air of a man who was 
 faint with dignity. He looked with an indifferent 
 eye, alike on skittles, cards, and dice, thinking only 
 of the locksmith's daughter, and the base degenerate 
 days on which he had fallen. 
 
 " My noble captain neither games, nor sings, nor 
 dances," said his host, taking a seat beside him. 
 "Drink, gallant general!'' 
 
 Mr. Tappertit drained the proffered goblet to the 
 dregs ; then thrust his hands into his pockets, and 
 with a lowering visage walked among the skittles, 
 while his followers (such is the influence of superior 
 genius) restrained the ardent ball, and held his little 
 shins in dumb respect. 
 
 " If I had been born a corsair or a pirate, a bri- 
 gand, genteel highwayman, or patriot, — and they're 
 the same thing," thought Mr. Tappertit, musing 
 among the nine-pins, — " I should have been all 
 right. But to drag out an ignoble existence unbe- 
 known to mankind in general Patience! I
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 101 
 
 will be famous yet. A voice within me keeps on 
 whispering Greatness. I shall burst out one of 
 these days, and when I do, what power can keep me 
 down ? I feel my soul getting into my head at the 
 idea. More drink there ! " 
 
 " The novice," pursued Mr. Tappertit, not exactly 
 in a voice of thunder, for his tones, to say the truth, 
 were rather cracked and shrill — but very impres- 
 sively, notwithstanding — "where is he ? " 
 
 " Here, noble captain ! " cried Stagg. " One stands 
 beside me who I feel is a stranger." 
 
 " Have you," said Mr. Tappertit, letting his gaze 
 fall on the party indicated, who was indeed the 
 new knight, by this time restored to his own apparel ; 
 "have you the impression of your street-door key 
 in wax ? " 
 
 The long comrade anticipated the reply by pro- 
 ducing it from the shelf on which it had been 
 deposited. 
 
 " Good," said Mr. Tappertit, scrutinizing it atten- 
 tively, while a breathless silence reigned around ; 
 for he had constructed secret door-keys for the whole 
 society, and perhaps owed something of his influence 
 to that mean and trivial circumstance — on such 
 slight accidents do even men of mind depend ! — 
 "This is easily made. Come hither, friend." 
 
 With that he beckoned the new knight apart, and 
 putting the pattern in his pocket, motioned to him 
 to walk by his side. 
 
 " And so," he said, when they had taken a few 
 turns up and down, " you — you love your master's 
 daughter ? " 
 
 " I do," said the 'prentice. " Honor bright. No 
 chaff, you know."
 
 102 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 " Have you," rejoined Mr. Tappertit, catching him 
 by the wrist, and giving him a look which would 
 have been expressive of the most deadly malevo- 
 lence, but for an accidental hiccup that rather inter- 
 fered with it ; " have you a — a rival ? " 
 
 " Xot as I know on," replied the 'prentice. 
 
 " If you had now " — said Mr. Tappertit — " what 
 would you — eh ? — " 
 
 The 'prentice looked fierce and clenched his fists. 
 
 " It is enough," cried Mr. Tappertit hastily ; " we 
 understand each other. We are observed. I thank 
 you." 
 
 So saying, he cast him off again ; and calling the 
 long comrade aside after taking a few hasty turns 
 by himself, bade him immediately write and post 
 against the wall a notice, proscribing one Joseph 
 Willet (commonly known as Joe) of Chigwell ; for- 
 bidding all 'Prentice Knights to succor, comfort, or 
 hold communion with him ; and requiring them, on 
 pain of excommunication, to molest, hurt, wrong, 
 annoy, and pick quarrels with the said Joseph, 
 whensoever and wheresoever they, or any of them, 
 should happen to encounter him. 
 
 Having relieved his mind by this energetic pro- 
 ceeding, he condescended to approach the festive 
 board, and warming by degrees, at length deigned 
 to preside, and even to enchant the company with a 
 song. After this, he rose to such a pitch as to 
 consent to regale the society with a hornpipe, which 
 he actually performed to the music of a fiddle 
 (played by an ingenious member), with such sur- 
 passing agility and brilliancy of execution, that the 
 spectators could not be sufficiently enthusiastic in 
 their admiration ; and their host protested, with
 
 BARNABY BTJDGE. 103 
 
 tears in his eyes, that he had never truly felt his 
 blindness until that moment. 
 
 But the host withdrawing — probably to weep in 
 secret — soon returned with the information that it 
 wanted little more than an hour of day, and that all 
 the cocks in Barbican had already begun to crow, as 
 if their lives depended on it. At this intelligence, 
 the 'Prentice Knights arose in haste, and marshal- 
 ling into a line, filed off one by one, and dispersed 
 with all speed to their several homes, leaving their 
 leader to pass the grating last. 
 
 " Good-night, noble captain," whispered the blind 
 man as he held it open for his passage out. " Fare- 
 well, brave general. Bye, bye, illustrious com- 
 mander. Good luck go with you for a — conceited, 
 bragging, empty-headed, duck-legged idiot." 
 
 With which parting words, coolly added as he 
 listened to his receding footsteps and locked the 
 grate upon himself, he descended the steps, and 
 lighting the fire below the little copper, prepared, 
 without any assistance, for bis daily occupation ; 
 which was to retail at the area-head above penny- 
 worths of broth and soup, and savory puddings, 
 compounded of such scraps as were to be bought in 
 the heap for the least money at Fleet Market in the 
 evening-time ; and for the sale of which he had 
 need to have depended chiefly on his private con- 
 nection, for the court had no thoroughfare, and was 
 not that kind of place in which many people were 
 likely to take the air, or to frequent as an agreeable 
 promenade.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Chroniclers are privileged to enter where they 
 list, to come and go through keyholes, to ride upon 
 the wind, to overcome, in their soarings up and 
 down, all obstacles of distance, time, and place. 
 Thrice blessed be this last consideration, since it 
 enables us to follow the disdainful Miggs even into 
 the sanctity of her chamber, and to hold her in 
 sweet companionship through the dreary watches of 
 the night ! 
 
 Miss Miggs, having undone her mistress, as she 
 phrased it (which means, assisted to undress her), 
 and having seen her comfortably to bed in the back- 
 room on the first floor, withdrew to her own apartment 
 in the attic story. Notwithstanding her declaration 
 in the locksmith's presence, she was in no mood for 
 sleep ; so, putting her light upon the table and with- 
 drawing the little window curtain, she gazed out pen- 
 sively at the wild night sky. 
 
 Perhaps she wondered what star was destined for 
 her habitation when she had run her little course 
 below ; perhaps speculated which of those glimmer- 
 ing spheres might be the natal orb of Mr. Tappertit ; 
 perhaps marvelled how they could gaze down on that 
 perfidious creature, man, and not sicken and turn 
 green as chemists' lamps ; perhaps thought of 
 
 104
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 105 
 
 nothing in particular. Whatever she thought about, 
 there she sat, until her attention, alive to anything 
 connected with the insinuating 'prentice, was at- 
 tracted by a noise in the next room to her own — 
 his room ; the room in which he slept, and dreamed 
 — it might be, sometimes dreamed of her. 
 
 That he was not dreaming now, unless he was 
 taking a walk in his sleep, was clear, for every now 
 and then there came a shuffling noise, as though he 
 were engaged in polishing the. whitewashed wall ; 
 then a gentle creaking of his door ; then the faintest 
 indication of his stealthy footsteps on the landing- 
 place outside. Noting this latter circumstance, 
 Miss Miggs turned pale and shuddered, as mistrust- 
 ing his intentions ; and more than once exclaimed 
 below her breath, " Oh ! what a Providence it is as 
 I am bolted in ! " — which, owing doubtless to her 
 alarm, was a confusion of ideas on her part between 
 a bolt and its use ; for though there was one on the 
 door, it was not fastened. 
 
 Miss Miggs's sense of hearing, however, having 
 as sharp an edge as her temper, and being of the 
 same snappish and suspicious kind, very soon 
 informed her that the footsteps passed her door, and 
 appeared to have some object quite separate and 
 disconnected from herself. At this discovery she 
 became more alarmed than ever, and was about to 
 give utterance to those cries of " Thieves ! " and 
 " Murder ! " which she had hitherto restrained, 
 when it occurred to her to look softly out, and see 
 that her fears had some good palpable foundation. 
 
 Looking out accordingly, and stretching her neck 
 over the handrail, she descried, to her great amaze- 
 ment, Mr. Tappertit completely dressed, stealing
 
 106 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 downstairs one step at a time, with his shoes in one 
 hand. and a lamp in the other. Following him with 
 her eyes, and going down a little way herself to get 
 the better of an intervening angle, she beheld him 
 thrust his head in at the parlor-door, draw it back 
 again with great swiftness, and immediately begin a 
 retreat upstairs with all possible expedition. 
 
 " Here's mysteries ! " said the damsel, when she 
 was safe in her own room again, quite out of breath. 
 " Oh gracious, here's mysteries ! " 
 
 The prospect of finding anybody out in anything 
 would have kept Miss Miggs awake under the influ- 
 ence of henbane. Presently she heard the step 
 again, as she would have done if it had been that of 
 a feather endowed with motion and walking down 
 on tiptoe. Then, gliding out as before, she again 
 beheld the retreating figure of the 'prentice ; again 
 he looked cautiously in at the parlor-door, but this 
 time, instead of retreating, he passed in and disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Miggs was back in her room, and had her head 
 out of the window, before an elderly gentleman 
 could have winked and recovered from it. Out he 
 came at the street-door, shut it carefully behind 
 him, tried it with his knee, and swaggered off, put- 
 ting something in his pocket as he went along. At 
 this spectacle Miggs cried " Gracious ! " again, and 
 then, "Goodness gracious!" and then, "Goodness 
 gracious me ! " and then, candle in hand, went down- 
 stairs as he had done. Coming to the workshop, 
 she saw the lamp burning on the forge, and every- 
 thing as Sim had left it. 
 
 " Why, I wish I may only have a walking funeral, 
 and never be buried decent with a mourning coach
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 107 
 
 and feathers, if the boy hasn't been and made 
 a key for his own self ! " cried Miggs. " Oh the 
 little villain!" 
 
 This conclusion was not arrived at without con- 
 sideration, and much peeping and peering about ; 
 nor was it unassisted by the recollection that she 
 had on several occasions come upon the 'prentice 
 suddenly, and found him busy at some mysterious 
 occupation. Lest the fact of Miss Miggs calling 
 him, on whom she stooped to cast a favorable eye, a 
 boy, should create surprise in any breast, it may be 
 observed that she invariably affected to regard all 
 male bipeds under thirty as mere chits and infants ; 
 which phenomenon is not unusual in ladies of Miss 
 Miggs's temper, and is, indeed, generally found to be 
 the associate of such indomitable and savage virtue. 
 
 Miss Miggs deliberated within herself for some 
 little time, looking hard at the shop-door while she 
 did so, as though her eyes and thoughts were both 
 upon it ; and then, taking a sheet of paper from a 
 drawer, twisted it into a long thin spiral tube. 
 Having rilled this instrument Avith a quantity of 
 small coal dust from the forge, she approached the 
 door, and dropping on one knee before it, dexter- 
 ously blew into the keyhole as much of these fine 
 ashes as the lock would hold. When she had filled 
 it to the brim in a very workmanlike and skilful 
 manner, she crept upstairs again, and chuckled as 
 she went. 
 
 " There ! " cried Miggs, rubbing her hands, " now 
 let's see whether you won't be glad to take some 
 notice of me, mister. He, he, he ! You'll have 
 eyes for somebody besides Miss Dolly now, I think. 
 A fat-faced puss she is, as ever / come across ! "
 
 108 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 As she uttered this criticism, she glanced approv- 
 ingly at her small mirror, as who should say, I thank 
 my stars that can't be said of me — as it certainly 
 could not ; for Miss Miggs's style of beauty was of 
 that kind which Mr. Tappertit himself had not 
 inaptly termed, in private, " scraggy." 
 
 " I don't go to bed this night ! " said Miggs, wrap- 
 ping herself in a shawl, and drawing a couple of 
 chairs near the window, flouncing down upon one, 
 and putting her feet upon the other, "till you come 
 home, my lad. I wouldn't," said Miggs viciously, 
 " no, not for five and forty pound ! " 
 
 With that, and with an expression of face in 
 which a great number of opposite ingredients, such 
 as mischief, cunning, malice, triumph, and patient 
 expectation, were all mixed up together in a kind 
 of physiognomical punch, Miss Miggs composed 
 herself to wait and listen, like some fair ogress who 
 had set a trap and was watching for a nibble from a 
 plump young traveller. 
 
 She sat there, with perfect composure, all night. 
 At length, just upon break of day, there was a foot- 
 step in the street, and presently she could hear Mr. 
 Tappertit stop at the door. Then she could make 
 out that he tried his key — that he was blowing 
 into it — that he knocked it on the nearest post to 
 beat the dust out — that he took it under a lamp to 
 look at it — that he poked bits of stick into the lock 
 to clear it — that he peeped into the keyhole, first 
 with one eye, and then with the other — that he 
 tried the key again — that he couldn't turn it, and, 
 what was worse, couldn't get it out — that he bent 
 it — that then it was much less disposed to come 
 out than before — that he gave it a mighty twist

 
 BAKNABY RTJDGE. 109 
 
 and a great pull, and then it came out so suddenly 
 that he staggered backwards — that he kicked the 
 door — that he shook it — finally, that he smote his 
 forehead, and sat down on the step in despair. 
 
 When this crisis had arrived, Miss Miggs, affect- 
 ing to be exhausted with terror, and to cling to the 
 window-sill for support, put out her nightcap, and 
 demanded in a faint voice who was there. 
 
 Mr. Tappertit cried " Hush ! " and, backing into 
 the road, exhorted her in frenzied pantomime to 
 secrecy and silence. 
 
 " Tell me one thing," said Miggs. " Is it 
 thieves ? " 
 
 " No — no — no ! " cried Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 " Then," said Miggs more faintly than before, 
 " it's fire. Where is it, sir ? It's near this room, I 
 know. I've a good conscience, sir, and would much 
 rather die than go down a ladder. All I wish is, 
 respecting my love to my married sister, Golden 
 Lion Court, number twenty-sivin, second bell-handle 
 on the right-hand door-post." 
 
 " Miggs ! " cried Mr. Tappertit, " don't you know 
 me ? Sim, you know — Sim — " 
 
 " Oh ! what about him ? " cried Miggs, clasping 
 her hands. " Is he in any danger ? Is he in the 
 midst of flames and blazes ? Oh gracious, gracious ! " 
 
 " Why, I'm here, ain't I ? " rejoined Mr. Tap- 
 pertit, knocking himself on the breast. " Don't you 
 see me ? What a fool you are, Miggs ! " 
 
 " There ! " cried Miggs, unmindful of this compli- 
 ment. " Why — so it — Goodness, what is the 
 meaning of — If you please, mini, here's — " 
 
 " iSTo, no ! " cried Mr. Tappertit, standing on tip- 
 toe, as if by that means he, in the street, were any
 
 110 BAR NAB Y BUDGE. 
 
 nearer being able to stop the mouth of Miggs in the 
 garret. " Don't ! I've been out without leave, and 
 something or another's the matter with the lock. 
 Come down, and undo the shop-window, that I may 
 get in that way." 
 
 " I dursn't do it, Simmun," cried Miggs — for that 
 was her pronunciation of his Christian name. " I 
 dursn't do it, indeed. You know as well as anybody 
 how particular I am. And to come down in the 
 dead of night, when the house is wrapped in slum- 
 bers and weiled in obscurity ! " And there she 
 stopped and shivered, for her modesty caught cold 
 at the very thought. 
 
 "But, Miggs," cried Mr. Tappertit, getting under 
 the lamp, that she might see his eyes. " My darling 
 Miggs — " 
 
 Miggs screamed slightly. 
 
 " — That I love so much, and never can help 
 thinking of," — and it is impossible to describe the 
 use he made of his eyes when he said this — " do — 
 for my sake, do." 
 
 " Oh, Simmun," cried Miggs, " this is worse than 
 all. I know, if I come down, you'll go and — " 
 
 "And what, my precious?" said Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 " And try," said Miggs hysterically, " to kiss me, 
 or some such dreadfulness ; I know you will ! *' 
 
 "I swear I won't," said Mr. Tappertit with re- 
 markable earnestness. "Upon my soul I won't. 
 It's getting broad day, and the watchman's waking 
 up. Angelic Miggs! If you'll only come and let 
 me in, I promise you faithfully and truly I won't." 
 
 Miss Miggs, whose gentle heart was touched, did 
 not wait for the oath (knowing lxow strong the temp- 
 tation was, and fearing he might forswear himself),
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. Ill 
 
 but tripped lightly down the stairs, and with her 
 own fair hands drew back the rough fastenings of 
 the workshop window. Having helped the wayward 
 'prentice in, she faintly articulated the words 
 " Simmun is safe ! " and yielding to her woman's 
 nature, immediately became insensible. 
 
 " I knew I should quench her," said Sim, rather 
 embarrassed by this circumstance. "Of course I 
 was certain it would come to this, but there was 
 nothing else to be done. If I hadn't eyed her over, 
 she wouldn't have come down. Here. Keep up a 
 minute, Miggs. What a slippery figure she is ! 
 There's no holding her comfortably. Do keep up a 
 minute, Miggs, will you ? " 
 
 As Miggs, however, was deaf to all entreaties, 
 Mr. Tappertit leant her against the wall as one 
 might dispose of a walking-stick or umbrella, until 
 he had secured the window, when he took her in his 
 arms again, and in short stages and with great diffi- 
 culty — arising mainly from her being tall and his 
 being short, and perhaps in some degree from that 
 peculiar physical conformation on which he had 
 already remarked — carried her upstairs, and plant- 
 ing her in the same umbrella or walking-stick 
 fashion just inside her own door, left her to her 
 repose. 
 
 " He may be as cool as he likes," said Miss Miggs, 
 recovering as soon as she was left alone : " but I'm 
 in his confidence, and he can't help himself, nor 
 couldn't if he was twenty Simmunses ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 It was on one of those mornings, common in early- 
 spring, when the year, fickle and changeable in its 
 youth like all other created things, is undecided 
 whether to step backward into winter or forward 
 into summer, and in its uncertainty inclines now to 
 the one and now to the other, and now to both at 
 once — wooing summer in the sunshine, and linger- 
 ing still with winter in the shade — it was, in short, 
 on one of those mornings when it is hot and cold, 
 wet and dry, bright and lowering, sad and cheerful, 
 withering and genial, in the compass of one short 
 hour, that old John Willet, who was dropping asleep 
 over the copper boiler, was roused by the sound of 
 a horse's feet, and glancing out at window, beheld a 
 traveller of goodly promise checking his bridle at 
 the Maypole door. 
 
 He was none of your flippant young fellows, 
 who would call for a tankard of mulled ale, and 
 make themselves as much at home as if they 
 had ordered a hogshead of wine ; none of your 
 audacious young swaggerers, who would even pene- 
 trate into the bar — that solemn sanctuary — and, 
 smiting old John upon the back, inquire if there 
 was never a pretty girl in the house, and where 
 he hid his little chambermaids, with a hundred 
 
 112
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 113 
 
 other impertinences of that nature ; none of your 
 free-and-easy companions, who would scrape their 
 boots upon the fire-dogs in the common room, and 
 be not at all particular on the subject of spittoons ; 
 none of your unconscionable blades, requiring im- 
 possible chops, and taking unheard-of pickles for 
 granted. He was a staid, grave, placid gentleman, 
 something past the prime of life, yet upright in his 
 carriage for all that, and slim as a greyhound. He 
 was well mounted upon a sturdy chestnut cob, and 
 had the graceful seat of an experienced horseman ; 
 while his riding-gear, though free from such fopper- 
 ies as were then in vogue, was handsome and well 
 chosen. He wore a riding-coat of a somewhat 
 brighter green than might have been expected to 
 suit the taste of a gentleman of his years, with a 
 short, black velvet cape, and laced pocket-holes and 
 cuffs, all of a jaunty fashion ; his linen, too, was of 
 the finest kind, worked in a rich pattern at the 
 wrists and throat, and scrupulously white. Al- 
 though he seemed, judging from the mud he had 
 picked up on the way, to have come from London, 
 his horse was as smooth and cool as his own iron- 
 gray periwig and pigtail. Neither man nor beast 
 had turned a single hair ; and, saving for his soiled 
 skirts and spatterdashes, this gentleman with his 
 blooming face, white teeth, exactly-ordered dress, 
 and perfect calmness, might have come from making 
 an elaborate and leisurely toilet, to sit for an eques- 
 trian portrait at old John Willet's gate. 
 
 It must not be supposed that John observed these 
 several characteristics by other than very slow de- 
 grees, or that he took in more than half a one at a 
 time, or that he even made up his mind upon that 
 
 VOL. I.-8.
 
 114 BAENABY ETJDGE. 
 
 without a great deal of very serious consideration. 
 Indeed, if he had been distracted in the first instance 
 by questionings and orders, it would have taken 
 him at the least a fortnight to have noted what is 
 here set down ; but it happened that the gentleman, 
 being struck with the old house, or with the plump 
 pigeons which were skimming and curtsying about 
 it, or with the tall maypole, on the top of which a 
 weathercock, which had been out of order for fifteen 
 years, performed a perpetual walk to the music of 
 its own creaking, sat for some little time looking 
 round in silence. Hence John, standing with his 
 hand upon the horse's bridle, and his great eyes on 
 the rider, and with nothing passing to divert his 
 thoughts, had really got some of these little circum- 
 stances into his brain by the time he was called 
 upon to speak. 
 
 " A quaint place this," said the gentleman — and 
 his voice was as rich as his dress. " Are you the 
 landlord ? " 
 
 " At your service, sir," replied John Willet. 
 
 " You can give my horse good stabling, can you, 
 and me an early dinner (I am not particular what, 
 so that it be cleanly served), and a decent room — 
 of which there seems to be no lack in this great 
 mansion ? " said the stranger, again running his 
 eyes over the exterior. 
 
 " You can have, sir," returned John, with a readi- 
 ness quite surprising, "anything you please." 
 
 " It's well I am easily satisfied," returned the 
 other with a smile, "or that might prove a hardy 
 pledge, my friend." And saying so, he dismounted, 
 with the aid of the block before the door, in a 
 twinkling.
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 115 
 
 " Halloa there ! Hugh ! " roared John. " I ask 
 your pardon, sir, for keeping you standing in the 
 porch ; but my son has gone to town on business, 
 and the boy being, as I may say, of a kind of use to 
 me, I'm rather put out when he's away. Hugh ! — 
 a dreadful idle vagrant fellow, sir — half a gypsy, 
 as I think — always sleeping in the sun in summer, 
 and in the straw in winter-time, sir — Hugh ! Dear 
 Lord, to keep a gentleman a waiting here through 
 him ! — Hugh ! I wish that chap was dead, I do 
 indeed." 
 
 " Possibly he is," returned the other. " I should 
 think, if he were living, he would have heard you 
 by this time." 
 
 "In his fits of laziness, he sleeps so desperate 
 hard," said the distracted host, "that if you were to 
 fire off cannon-balls into his ears, it wouldn't wake 
 him, sir." 
 
 The guest made no remark upon this novel cure 
 for drowsiness, and recipe for making people lively, 
 but, with his hands clasped behind him, stood in 
 the porch, apparently very much amused to see old 
 John, with the bridle in his hand, wavering between 
 a strong impulse to abandon the animal to his fate, 
 and a half-disposition to lead him into the house, 
 and shut him up in the parlor, while he waited on 
 his master. 
 
 " Pillory the fellow, here he is at last ! " cried 
 John, in the very height and zenith of his distress. 
 " Did you hear me a calling, villain ? " 
 
 The figure he addressed made no answer, but, 
 putting his hand upon the saddle, sprung into it at 
 a bound, turned the horse's head towards the stable, 
 and was gone in an instant.
 
 116 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 "Brisk enough when he is awake," said the guest. 
 
 " Brisk enough, sir ! " replied John, looking at the 
 place where the horse had been, as if not yet under- 
 standing quite what had become of him. "He 
 melts, I think. He goes like a drop of froth. You 
 look at him, and there he is. You look at him 
 again, and — there he isn't." 
 
 Having, in the absence of any more words, put 
 this sudden climax to what he had faintly intended 
 should be a long explanation of the whole life and 
 character of his man, the oracular John Willet led 
 the gentleman up his wide dismantled staircase into 
 the Maypole's best apartment. 
 
 It was spacious enough in all conscience, occupy- 
 ing the whole depth of the house, and having at 
 either end a great bay-window, as large as many 
 modern rooms ; in which some few panes of stained 
 glass, emblazoned with fragments of armorial bear- 
 ings, though cracked, and patched, and shattered, 
 yet remained ; attesting, by their presence, that the 
 former owner had made the very light subservient 
 to his state, and pressed the sun itself into his list 
 of flatterers ; bidding it, when it shone into his 
 chamber, reflect the badges of his ancient family, 
 and take new hues and colors from their pride. 
 
 But those were old days, and now every little ray 
 came and went as it would ; telling the plain, bare, 
 searching truth. Although the best room of the 
 inn, it hud the melancholy aspect of grandeur in 
 decay, and was much too vast for comfort. Rich 
 rustling hangings, waving on the walls ; and, better 
 far, the rustling of youth and beauty's dress ; the 
 light of women's eyes, outshining the tapers and 
 their own rich jewels ; the sound of gentle tongues
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 117 
 
 and music, and the tread of maiden feet, had once 
 been there, and filled it with delight. But they 
 were gone, and with them all its gladness. It was 
 no longer a home ; children were never born and 
 bred there ; the fireside had become mercenary — a 
 something to be bought and sold — a very courtesan : 
 let who would die, or sit beside, or leave it, it was 
 still the same — it missed nobody, cared for nobody, 
 had equal warmth and smiles for all. God help the 
 man whose heart ever changes with the world as an 
 old mansion when it becomes an inn ! 
 
 No effort had been made to furnish this chilly 
 waste, but before the broad chimney a colony of 
 chairs and tables had been planted on a square of 
 carpet, flanked by a ghostly screen, enriched with 
 figures, grinning and grotesque. After lighting 
 with his own hands the fagots which were heaped 
 upon the hearth, old John withdrew to hold grave 
 counsel with his cook touching the stranger's enter- 
 tainment; while the guest himself, seeing small 
 comfort in the yet unkindled wood, opened a lattice 
 in the distant window, and basked in a sickly gleam 
 of cold March sun. 
 
 Leaving the window now and then to rake the 
 crackling logs together, or pace the echoing room 
 from end to end, he closed it when the fire was 
 quite burnt up, and having wheeled the easiest 
 chair into the warmest corner, summoned John 
 Willet. 
 
 " Sir," said John. 
 
 He wanted pen, ink, and paper. There was an 
 old standish on the high mantelshelf, containing a 
 dusty apology for all three. Having set this before 
 him, the landlord was retiring, when he motioned 
 him to stay.
 
 118 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " There's a house not far from here," said the 
 guest when he had written a few lines, " which you 
 call the Warren, I believe ? " 
 
 As this was said in the tone of one who knew the 
 fact, and asked the question as a thing of course, 
 John contented himself with nodding his head in 
 the affirmative ; at the same time taking one hand 
 out of his pockets to cough behind, and then put- 
 ting it in again. 
 
 " I want this note," said the guest, glancing on 
 what he had written, and folding it, "conveyed 
 there without loss of time, and an answer brought 
 back here. Have you a messenger at hand ? " 
 
 John was thoughtful for a minute or thereabouts, 
 and then said Yes. 
 
 " Let me see him," said the guest. 
 
 This was disconcerting; for Joe being out, and 
 Hugh engaged in rubbing down the chestnut cob, 
 he designed sending on the errand Barnaby, who 
 had just then arrived in one of his rambles, and 
 who, so that he thought himself employed on grave 
 and serious business, would go anywhere. 
 
 " Why, the truth is," said John after a long pause, 
 " that the person who'd go quickest is a sort of 
 natural, as one may say, sir; and though quick of 
 foot, and as much to be trusted as the post itself, 
 he's not good at talking, being touched and flighty, 
 sir." 
 
 " You don't," said the guest, raising his eyes to 
 John's fat face, "you don't mean — what's the fel- 
 low's name ? — you don't mean Barnaby ?" 
 
 "Yes, I do," returned the landlord, his features 
 turning quite expressive with surprise. 
 
 " How comes he to be here ? " inquired the guest,
 
 BAENABY ETJDGE. 119 
 
 leaning back in his chair; speaking in the bland, 
 even tone from which he never varied ; and with the 
 same soft, courteous, never-changing smile upon his 
 face. " I saw him in London last night." 
 
 " He's forever here one hour, and there the next," 
 returned old John, after the usual pause to get the 
 question in his mind. "Sometimes he walks, and 
 sometimes runs. He's known along the road by 
 everybody, and sometimes comes here in a cart or 
 chaise, and sometimes riding double. He comes 
 and goes, through wind, rain, snow, and hail, and on 
 the darkest nights. Nothing hurts him." 
 
 " He goes often to this Warren, does he not ? " 
 said the guest carelessly. " I seem to remember 
 his mother telling me something to that effect yes- 
 terday. But I was not attending to the good 
 woman much." 
 
 " You're right," John made answer, " he does. 
 His father, sir, was murdered in that house." 
 
 " So I have heard," returned the guest, taking a 
 gold toothpick from his pocket, with the same sweet 
 smile. " A very disagreeable circumstance for the 
 family." 
 
 "Very," said John with a puzzled look, as if it 
 occurred to him, dimly and afar off, that this might 
 by possibility be a cool way of treating the subject. 
 
 " All the circumstances after a murder," said the 
 guest soliloquizing, " must be dreadfully unpleasant 
 — so much bustle and disturbance — no repose — a 
 constant dwelling upon one subject — and the run- 
 ning in and out, and up and down stairs, intoler- 
 able. I wouldn't have such a thing happen to any- 
 body I was nearly interested in on any account. 
 'Twould be enough to wear one's life out. — You
 
 120 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 were going to say, friend — " he added, turning to 
 John again. 
 
 " Only that Mrs. Budge lives on a little pension 
 from the family, and that Barnaby's as free of the 
 house as any cat or dog about it," answered John. 
 " Shall he do your errand, sir ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," replied the guest. " Oh, certainly. 
 Let him do it by all means. Please to bring him 
 here, that I may charge him to be quick. If he 
 objects to come, you may tell him it's Mr. Chester. 
 He will remember my name I dare say." 
 
 John was so very much astonished to find who his 
 visitor was, that he could express no astonishment 
 at all, by looks or otherwise, but left the room as if 
 he were in the most placid and imperturbable of all 
 possible conditions. It has been reported that when 
 he got downstairs, he looked steadily at the boiler 
 for ten minutes by the clock, and all that time never 
 once left off shaking his head ; for which statement 
 there would seem to be some ground of truth and 
 feasibility, inasmuch as that interval of time did 
 certainly elapse before he returned with Barnaby to 
 the guest's apartment. 
 
 "Come hither, lad," said Mr. Chester. "You 
 know Mr. Geoffrey Haredale ? " 
 
 Barnaby laughed, and looked at the landlord as 
 though he would say, " You hear him ? " John, who 
 was greatly shocked at this breach of decorum, 
 clapped his finger to his nose, and shook his head in 
 mute remonstrance. 
 
 " He knows him, sir," said John, frowning aside 
 at Barnaby, " as well as you or I do." 
 
 " I haven't the pleasure of much acquaintance 
 with the gentleman," returned his guest. " You
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 121 
 
 may have. Limit the comparison to yourself, my 
 friend." 
 
 Although this was said with the same easy affa- 
 bility, and the same smile, John felt himself put 
 down, and laying the indignity at Barnaby's door, 
 determined to kick his raven on the very first 
 opportunity. 
 
 " Give that," said the guest, who had by this time 
 sealed the note, and who beckoned his messenger 
 towards him as he spoke, " into Mr. Haredale's own 
 hands. Wait for an answer, and bring it back to 
 me — here. If you should find that Mr. Haredale 
 is engaged just now, tell him — Can he remember a 
 message, landlord ? " 
 
 " When he chooses, sir," replied John. " He 
 won't forget this one." 
 
 " How are you sure of that ? " 
 
 John merely pointed to him as he stood with his 
 head bent forward, and his earnest gaze fixed closely 
 on his questioner's face ; and nodded sagely. 
 
 " Tell him, then, Barnaby, should he be engaged," 
 said Mr. Chester, " that I shall be glad to wait his 
 convenience here, and to see him (if he will call) at 
 any time this evening. — At the worst I can have a 
 bed here, Willet, I suppose ? " 
 
 Old John, immensely flattered by the personal 
 notoriety implied in this familiar form of address, 
 answered, with something like a knowing look, " I 
 should believe you could, sir," and was turning over 
 in his mind various forms of eulogium, with the 
 view of selecting one appropriate to the qualities of 
 his best bed, when his ideas were put to flight by 
 Mr. Chester giving Barnaby the letter, and bidding 
 him make all speed away.
 
 122 BARNABY ETJDQE. 
 
 " Speed ! " said Barnaby, folding the little packet 
 in his breast. " Speed ! If you want to see hurry 
 and mystery, come here. Here ! " 
 
 With that, he put his hand, very much to John 
 Willet's horror, on the guest's fine broadcloth sleeve, 
 and led him stealthily to the back-window. 
 
 " Look down there," he said softly. " Do you mark 
 how they whisper in each other's ears ; then dance and 
 leap, to make believe they are in sport ? Do you 
 see how they stop for a moment, when they think 
 there is no one looking, and mutter among them- 
 selves again; and then how they roll and gambol, 
 delighted with the mischief they've been plotting ? 
 Look at 'em now. See how they whirl and plunge. 
 And now they stop again, and whisper cautiously 
 together — little thinking, mind, how often I have 
 lain upon the grass and watched them. I say — 
 what is it that they plot and hatch ? Do you 
 know ? " 
 
 " They are only clothes," returned the guest, 
 " such as we wear ; hanging on those lines to dry, 
 and fluttering in the wind." 
 
 " Clothes ! " echoed Barnaby, looking close into 
 his face, and falling quickly back. "Ha! ha! 
 Why, how much better to be silly than as wise as 
 you ! You don't see shadowy people there, like 
 those that live in sleep — not you ! Nor eyes in the 
 knotted panes of glass, nor swift ghosts when it 
 blows hard, nor do you hear voices in the air, nor 
 see men stalking in the sky — not you! I lead a 
 merrier life than you, with all your cleverness. 
 You're the dull men. We're the bright ones. Ha ! 
 ha ! I'll not change with you, clever as you are, — 
 not I ! "
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 123 
 
 With that, he waved his hat above his head, and 
 darted off. 
 
 " A strange creature, upon my word ! " said the 
 guest, pulling out a handsome box, and taking a 
 pinch of snuff. 
 
 "He wants imagination," said Mr. Willet, very 
 slowly and after a long silence ; " that's what he 
 wants. I've tried to instil it into him, many and 
 many's the time; but" — John added this in confi- 
 dence — " he ain't made for it ; that's the fact." 
 
 To record that Mr. Chester smiled at John's 
 remark would be little to the purpose, for he pre- 
 served the same conciliatory and pleasant look at all 
 times. He drew his chair nearer to the fire, though, 
 as' a kind of hint that he would prefer to be alone, 
 and John, having no reasonable excuse for remain- 
 ing, left him to himself. 
 
 Very thoughtful old John Willet was while the 
 dinner was preparing ; and if his brain were ever 
 less clear at one time than another, it is but reason- 
 able to suppose that he addled it in no slight degree 
 by shaking his head so much that day. That Mr. 
 Chester, between whom and Mr. Haredale, it was 
 notorious to all the neighborhood, a deep and bitter 
 animosity existed, should come down there for the 
 sole purpose, as it seemed, of seeing him, and should 
 choose the Maypole for their place of meeting, and 
 should send to him express, were stumbling-blocks 
 John could not overcome. The only resource he had 
 was to consult the boiler, and wait impatiently for 
 Barnaby's return. 
 
 But Barnaby delayed beyond all precedent. The 
 visitor's dinner was served, removed, his wine was 
 set, the fire replenished, the hearth clean swept j
 
 124 BAEXABY BUDGE. 
 
 the light waned without, it grew dusk, became quite 
 dark, and still no Barnaby appeared. Yet, though 
 John Willet was full of wonder and misgiving, his 
 guest sat cross-legged in the easy-chair, to all appear- 
 ance as little ruffled in his thoughts as in his dress 
 — the same calm, easy, cool gentleman, without a 
 care or thought beyond his golden toothpick. 
 
 " Barnaby's late," John ventured to observe, as he 
 placed a pair of tarnished candlesticks, some three 
 feet high, upon the table, and snuffed the lights they 
 held. 
 
 " He is rather so," replied the guest, sipping his 
 wine. " He will not be much longer I dare say." 
 
 John coughed, and raked the fire together. 
 
 " As your roads bear no very good character, if I 
 may judge from my son's mishap, though," said Mr. 
 Chester, " and as I have no fancy to be knocked on 
 the head — which is not only disconcerting at the 
 moment, but places one, besides, in a ridiculous 
 position with respect to the people who chance to 
 pick one up — I shall stop here to-night. I think 
 you said you had a bed to spare." 
 
 " Such a bed, sir," returned John Willet ; " ay, 
 such a bed as few, even of the gentry's houses, own. 
 A fixter here, sir. I've heard say that bedstead is 
 nigh two hundred years of age. Your noble son — 
 a fine young gentleman — slept in it last, sir, half a 
 year ago." 
 
 " Upon my life, a recommendation ! " said the 
 guest, shrugging his shoulders and wheeling his 
 chair nearer to the fire. " See that it be well aired, 
 Mr. Willet, and let a blazing fire be lighted there at 
 once. This house is something damp and chilly." 
 
 John raked the fagots up again, more from habit
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 125 
 
 than presence of mind, or any reference to this 
 remark, and was about to withdraw, when a bound- 
 ing step was heard upon the stair, and Barnaby 
 came panting in. 
 
 " He'll have his foot in the stirrup in an hour's 
 time," he cried, advancing. " He has been riding 
 hard all day — has just come home — but will be in 
 the saddle again as soon as he has ate and drank, to 
 meet his loving friend." 
 
 " Was that his message ? " asked the visitor, look- 
 ing up, but without the smallest discomposure — or 
 at least without the smallest show of any. 
 
 " All but the last words," Barnaby rejoined. " He 
 meant those. I saw that in his face." 
 
 "This for your pains," said the other, putting 
 money in his hand, and glancing at him steadfastly. 
 " This for your pains, sharp Barnaby." 
 
 " For Grip, and me, and Hugh, to share among us," 
 he rejoined, putting it up, and nodding, as he counted 
 it on his fingers. " Grip one, me two, Hugh 
 three ; the dog, the goat, the cats — well, we shall 
 spend it pretty soon, I warn you. Stay. Look. 
 Do you wise men see nothing there now ? ' 
 
 He bent eagerly down on one knee, and gazed 
 intently at the smoke, which was rolling up the 
 chimney in a thick black cloud. John Willet, who 
 appeared to consider himself particularly and chiefly 
 referred to under the term wise men, looked that 
 way likewise, and with great solidity of feature. 
 
 " Now, where do they go to when they spring so 
 fast up there," asked Barnaby ; " eh ? Why do 
 they tread so closely on each other's heels, and why 
 are they always in a hurry ? — which is what you 
 blame me for, when I only take pattern by these
 
 126 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 busy folk about me. More of 'em ! catching to 
 each other's skirts ; and as fast as they go, others 
 come ! What a merry dance it is ! I -would that 
 Grip and I could frisk like that ! " 
 
 " What has he in that basket at his back ? " asked 
 the guest after a few moments, during which Barn- 
 aby was still bending down to look higher up the 
 chimney, and earnestly watching the smoke. 
 
 " In this ? " he answered, jumping up before John 
 "Willet could reply — shaking it as he spoke, and 
 stooping his head to listen. " In this ? "What is 
 there here ? Tell him ! " 
 
 " A devil, a devil, a devil ! " cried a hoarse voice. 
 
 " Here's mone}^ ! " said Barnaby, chinking it in 
 his hand, " money for a treat, Grip ! " 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! " replied the raven ; 
 " keep up your spirits. Never say die. Bow, wow, 
 wow ! " 
 
 Mr. Willet, who appeared to entertain strong 
 doubts whether a customer in a laced coat and fine 
 linen could be supposed to have any acquaintance 
 even with the existence of such impolite gentry as 
 the bird claimed to belong to, took Barnaby off at 
 this juncture, with the view of preventing any other 
 improper declarations, and quitted the room with 
 his very best bow.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 There was great news that night for the regular 
 Maypole customers, to each of whom, as he straggled 
 in to occupy his allotted seat in the chimney-corner, 
 John, with a most impressive slowness of delivery, 
 and in an apoplectic whisper, communicated the fact 
 that Mr. Chester was alone in the large room up- 
 stairs, and was waiting the arrival of Mr. Geoffrey 
 Haredale, to whom he had sent a letter (doubtless 
 of a threatening nature) by the hands of Barnaby, 
 then and there present. 
 
 For a little knot of smokers and solemn gossips, 
 who had seldom any new topics of discussion, this 
 was a perfect godsend. Here was a good, dark-looking 
 mystery progressing under that very roof — brought 
 home to the fireside as it were, and enjoyable with- 
 out the smallest pains or trouble. It is extraordi- 
 nary what a zest and relish it gave to the drink, and 
 how it heightened the flavor of the tobacco. Every 
 man smoked his pipe with a face of grave and 
 serious delight, and looked at his neighbor with a 
 sort of quiet congratulation. Nay, it was felt to be 
 such a holiday and special night, that, on the motion 
 of little Solomon Daisy, every man (including John 
 himself) put down his sixpence for a can of flip, 
 which grateful beverage was brewed with all de- 
 
 127
 
 128 BABXABY BUDGE. 
 
 spatch, and set down in the midst of them on the 
 brick floor; both that it might simmer and stew 
 before the fire, and that its fragrant steam, rising 
 up among them and mixing with the wreaths of 
 vapor from their pipes, might shroud them in a 
 delicious atmosphere of their own, and shut out all 
 the world. The very furniture of the room seemed 
 to mellow and deepen in its tone ; the ceiling and 
 walls looked blacker and more highly polished, the 
 curtains of a ruddier red ; the fire burnt clear and 
 high, and the crickets in the hearthstone chirped 
 with a more than wonted satisfaction. 
 
 There were present two, however, who showed 
 but little interest in the general contentment. Of 
 these, one was Barnaby himself, who slept, or to 
 avoid being beset with questions, feigned to sleep, 
 in the chimney-corner; the other, Hugh, who, sleep- 
 ing too, lay stretched upon the bench on the opposite 
 side, in the full glare of the blazing fire. 
 
 The light that fell upon this slumbering form 
 showed it in all its muscular and handsome propor- 
 tions. It was that of a young man, of a hale ath- 
 letic figure and a giant's strength, whose sunburnt 
 face and swarthy throat, overgrown with jet-black 
 hair, might have served a painter for a model. 
 Loosely attired, in the coarsest and roughest garb, 
 with scraps of straw and hay — his usual bed — 
 clinging here and there, and mingling with his 
 uncombed locks, he had fallen asleep in a posture 
 as careless as his dress. The negligence and dis- 
 order of the whole man, with something fierce and 
 sullen in his features, gave him a picturesque ap- 
 pearance, that attracted the regards even of the 
 Maypole customers who knew him well, and caused
 
 ^
 
 BAENAEY RUDGE. 129 
 
 Long Parkes to say that Hugh looked more like a 
 poaching rascal to-night than ever he had seen him yet. 
 
 "He's waiting here, I suppose," said Solomon, 
 "to take Mr. Haredale's horse." 
 
 " That's it, sir," replied John Willet. " He's not 
 often in the house, you know. He's more at his 
 ease among horses than men. I look upon him as a 
 animal himself." 
 
 Following up this opinion with a shrug that 
 seemed meant to say, "We can't expect every- 
 body to be like us," John put his pipe into his 
 mouth again, and smoked like one who felt his 
 superiority over the general run of mankind. 
 
 " That chap, sir," said John, taking it out again 
 after a time, and pointing at him with the stem, 
 "though he's got all his faculties about him — 
 bottled up and corked down, if I may say so, 
 somewheres or another — " 
 
 "Very good!" said Parkes, nodding his head. 
 "A very good expression, Johnny. You'll be a 
 tackling somebody presently. You're in twig to- 
 night, I see." 
 
 " Take care," said Mr. Willet, not at all grateful 
 for the compliment, "that I don't tackle you, sir, 
 which I shall certainly endeavor to do, if you inter- 
 rupt me when I'm making observations. — That 
 chap, I was a saying, though he has all his facul- 
 ties about him, somewheres or another, bottled up 
 and corked down, has no more imagination than 
 Barnaby has. And why hasn't he ? " 
 
 The three friends shook their heads at each other ; 
 saying by that action, without the trouble of open- 
 ing their lips, " Do you observe what a philosophical 
 mind our friend has ? " 
 
 VOL. I.-9.
 
 130 BARNABT RUDGE. 
 
 " Why hasn't he ? " said John, gently striking 
 the table with his open hand. " Because they were 
 never drawed out of him when he was a boy. That's 
 why. What would any of us have been, if our 
 fathers hadn't drawed our faculties out of us ? 
 What would my boy Joe have been, if I hadn't 
 drawed his faculties out of him ? — Do you mind 
 what I'm a saying of, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Ah ! we mind you," cried Parkes. " Go on im- 
 proving of us, Johnny." 
 
 "Consequently, then," said Mr. Willet, "that 
 chap, whose mother was hung when he was a lit- 
 tle boy, along with six others, for passing bad notes 
 — and it's a blessed thing to think how many people 
 are hung in batches every six weeks for that and 
 such-like offences, as showing how wide awake our 
 government is — that chap was then turned loose, 
 and had to mind cows, and frighten birds away, and 
 what not, for a few pence to live on, and so got on 
 by degrees to mind horses, and to sleep in course of 
 time in lofts and litter, instead of under haystacks 
 and hedges, till at last he come to be hostler at the 
 Maypole for his board and lodging and a annual 
 trifle — that chap that can't read nor write, and has 
 never had much to do with anything but animals, 
 and has never lived in any way but like the animals 
 he has lived among, is a animal. And," said Mr. 
 Willet, arriving at his logical conclusion, "is to be 
 treated accordingly." 
 
 " Willet," said Solomon Daisy, who had exhibited 
 some impatience at the intrusion of so unworthy a 
 subject on their more interesting theme, " when Mr. 
 Chester come this morning, did he order the large 
 room ? "
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 131 
 
 " He signified, sir," said John, " that he wanted a 
 large apartment. Yes. Certainly." 
 
 "Why, then, I'll tell you what," said Solomon, 
 speaking softly and with an earnest look. " He and 
 Mr. Haredale are going to fight a duel in it." 
 
 Everybody looked at Mr. Willet after this alarm- 
 ing suggestion. Mr. Willet looked at the fire, weigh- 
 ing in his own mind the effect which such an occur- 
 rence would be likely to have on the establishment. 
 
 "Well," said John, "I don't know — I am sure — 
 I remember that when I went up last, he had put 
 the lights upon the mantelshelf." 
 
 "It's as plain," returned Solomon, "as the nose 
 on Parkes's face" — Mr. Parkes, who had a large 
 nose, rubbed it, and looked as if he considered this 
 a personal allusion — "they'll fight in that room. 
 You know by the newspapers what a common thing 
 it is for gentlemen to fight in coffee-houses, without 
 seconds. One of 'em will be wounded, or perhaps 
 killed, in this house." 
 
 "That was a challenge that Barnaby took then, 
 eh ? " said John. 
 
 " — Enclosing a slip of paper with the measure of 
 his sword upon it, I'll bet a guinea ! " answered the 
 little man. " We know what sort of gentleman Mr. 
 Haredale is. You have told us what Barnaby said 
 about his looks when he came back. Depend upon 
 it I'm right. Now, mind." 
 
 The flip had had no flavor till now. The tobacco 
 had been of mere English growth, compared with 
 its present taste. A duel in that great old rambling 
 room upstairs, and the best bed ordered already for 
 the wounded man ! 
 
 " Would it be swords or pistols now ? " said John.
 
 132 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 "Heaven knows. Perhaps both," returned Solo- 
 mon. " The gentlemen wear swords, and may easily 
 have pistols in their pockets — most likely have, 
 indeed. If they fire at each other without effect, 
 then they'll draw, and go to work in earnest." 
 
 A shade passed over Mr. Willet's face as he 
 thought of broken windows and disabled furniture, 
 but bethinking himself that one of the parties would 
 probably be left alive to pay the damage, he bright- 
 ened up again. 
 
 "And then," said Solomon, looking from face to 
 face, " then we shall have one of those stains upon 
 the floor that never come out. If Mr. Haredale 
 wins, depend upon it, it'll be a deep one ; or if he 
 loses, it will perhaps be deeper still, for he'll never 
 give in unless he's beaten down. We know him 
 better, eh ? " 
 
 " Better indeed ! " they whispered all together. 
 
 "As to its ever being got out again," said Solo- 
 mon, " I tell you it never will, or can be. Why, do 
 you know that it has been tried at a certain house 
 we are acquainted with ? " 
 
 " The Warren ? " cried John. " No, sure ! " 
 
 " Yes, sure — yes. It's only known by very few. 
 It has been whispered about, though, for all that. 
 They planed the board away, but there it was. 
 They went deep, but it went deeper. They put 
 new boards down, but there was one great spot that 
 came through still, and showed itself in the old 
 place. And — harkye — draw nearer — Mr. Geoffrey 
 made that room his study, and sits there always, 
 with his foot (as I have heard) upon it ; and he 
 believes, through thinking of it long and very much, 
 that it will never fade until he finds the man who
 
 BAEXABY BUDGE. 133 
 
 did the deed." As. this recital ended, and they all 
 drew closer round the fire, the tramp of a horse was 
 heard without. 
 
 " The very man ! " cried John, starting up. 
 "Hugh! Hugh!" 
 
 The sleeper staggered to his feet, and hurried after 
 him. John quickly returned, ushering in with great 
 attention and deference (for Mr. Haredale was his 
 landlord) the long-expected visitor, who strode into 
 the room clanking his heavy boots upon the floor; 
 and looking keenly round upon the bowing group, 
 raised his hat in acknowledgment of their profound 
 respect. 
 
 " You have a stranger here, Willet, who sent to 
 me," he said in a voice which sounded naturally 
 stern and deep. " Where is he ? " 
 
 " In the great room upstairs, sir," answered John. 
 
 " Show the way. Your staircase is dark, I know. 
 Gentlemen, good-night." 
 
 With that, he signed to the landlord to go on 
 before ; and went clanking out, and up the stairs ; 
 old John, in his agitation, ingeniously lighting 
 everything but the way, and making a stumble at 
 every second step. 
 
 " Stop ! " he said, when they reached the landing. 
 "I can announce myself. Don't wait." 
 
 He laid his hand upon the door, entered, and shut 
 it heavily. Mr. Willet was by no means disposed 
 to stand there listening by himself, especially as the 
 walls were veiy thick ; so descended with much 
 greater alacrity than he had come up, and joined 
 his friends below.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 There was a brief pause in the state-room of the 
 Maypole, as Mr. Haredale tried the lock to satisfy 
 himself that he had shut the door securely, and, 
 striding up the dark chamber to where the screen 
 enclosed a little patch of light and warmth, pre- 
 sented himself, abruptly and in silence, before the 
 smiling guest. 
 
 If the two had no greater sympathy in their in- 
 ward thoughts than in their outward bearing and 
 appearance, the meeting did not seem likely to prove 
 a very calm or pleasant one. With no great dis- 
 parity between them in point of years, they were, 
 in every other respect, as unlike and far removed 
 from each other as two men could well be. The 
 one was soft-spoken, delicately made, precise, and 
 elegant ; the other, a burly square-built man, negli- 
 gently dressed, rough and abrupt in manner, stern, 
 and, in his present mood, forbidding both in look 
 and speech. The one preserved a calm and placid 
 smile; the other, a distrustful frown. The new- 
 comer, indeed, appeared bent on showing, by his 
 every tone and gesture, his determined opposition 
 and hostility to the man he had come to meet. The 
 guest who received him, on the other hand, seemed 
 to feel that the contrast between them was all in 
 
 134
 
 BAKNABY BUDGE. 135 
 
 his favor, and to derive a quiet exultation from it 
 which put him more at his ease than ever. 
 
 "Haredale," said this gentleman, without the 
 least appearance of embarrassment or reserve, " I 
 am very glad to see you." 
 
 "Let us dispense with compliments. They are 
 misplaced between us," returned the other, waving 
 his hand, "and say plainly what we have to say. 
 You have asked me to meet you. I am here. Why 
 do we stand face to face again ? " 
 
 " Still the same frank and sturdy character, I 
 see ! " 
 
 " Good or bad, sir, I am," returned the other, 
 leaning his arm upon the chimney-piece, and turn- 
 ing a haughty look upon the occupant of the easy- 
 chair, " the man I used to be. I have lost no old 
 likings or dislikings ; my memory has not failed 
 me by a hair's-breadth. You ask me to give you a 
 meeting. I say, I am here." 
 
 " Our meeting, Haredale," said Mr. Chester, tap. 
 ping his snuff-box, and following with a smile the 
 impatient gesture he had made — perhaps uncon- 
 sciously — towards his sword, " is one of conference 
 and peace, I hope ? " 
 
 " I have come here," returned the other, " at your 
 desire, holding myself bound to meet you when and 
 where you would. I have not come to bandy pleas- 
 ant speeches, or hollow professions. You are a 
 smooth man of the world, sir, and at such play have 
 me at a disadvantage. The very last man on this 
 earth with whom I would enter the lists to combat 
 with gentle compliments and masked faces is Mr. 
 Chester, I do assure you. I am not his match at 
 such weapons, and have reason to believe that few 
 men are."
 
 136 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " You do me a great deal of honor, Haredale," 
 returned the other most composedly, " and I thank 
 you. I will be frank with you — " 
 
 " I beg your pardon — will be what ? " 
 
 " Frank — open — perfectly candid." 
 
 " Hah ! " cried Mr. Haredale, drawing in his breath. 
 " But don't let me interrupt you." 
 
 "So resolved am I to hold this course," returned 
 the other, tasting his wine with great deliberation, 
 " that I have determined not to quarrel with j^ou, 
 and not to be betrayed into a warm expression or a 
 hasty word." 
 
 ''There again," said Mr. Haredale, "you will have 
 me at a great advantage. Your self-command — " 
 
 "Is not to be disturbed, when it will serve my 
 purpose, you would say," rejoined the other, inter- 
 rupting him with the same complacency. " Granted. 
 I allow it. And I have a purpose to serve now. So 
 have you. I am sure our object is the same. Let 
 i;s attain it like sensible men, who have ceased to be 
 boys some time. — Do you drink ? " 
 
 " With my friends," returned the other. 
 
 "At least," said Mr. Chester, "you will be 
 seated ? " 
 
 "I will stand," returned Mr. Haredale impa- 
 tiently, "on this dismantled beggared hearth, and 
 not pollute it, fallen as it is, with mockeries. Go 
 on!" 
 
 "You are wrong, Haredale," said the other, cross- 
 ing his legs, and smiling as he held his glass up in 
 the bright glow of the fire. " You are really very 
 wrong. The world is a lively place enough, in which 
 we must accommodate ourselves to circumstances, 
 sail with the stream as glibly as we can, be content
 
 BAENABY RUDGE. 137 
 
 to take froth for substance, the surface for the depth, 
 the counterfeit for the real coin. I wonder no phil- 
 osopher has ever established that our globe itself is 
 hollow. It should be, if Nature is consistent in her 
 works." 
 
 " You think it is, perhaps ? " 
 
 "I should say," he returned, sipping his wine, 
 "there could be no doubt about it. Well; we, in 
 our trifling with this jingling toy, have had the ill 
 luck to jostle and fall out. We are not what the 
 world calls friends ; but we are as good and true 
 and loving friends, for all that, as nine out of every 
 ten of those on whom it bestows the title. You 
 have a niece, and I a son — a fine lad, Haredale, 
 but foolish. They fall in love with each other, and 
 form what this same world calls an attachment; 
 meaning a something fanciful and false like all the 
 rest, which, if it took its own free time, would break 
 like any other bubble. But it may not have its own 
 free time — will not, if they are left alone — and 
 the question is, shall we two, because society calls 
 us enemies, stand aloof, and let them rush into each 
 other's arms, when, by approaching each other sen- 
 sibly, as we do now, we can prevent it, and part 
 them ? " 
 
 " I love my niece," said Mr. Haredale after a short 
 silence. <•' It may sound strangely in your ears ; but 
 I love her." 
 
 "Strangely, my good fellow!" cried Mr. Chester, 
 lazily filling his glass again, and pulling out his 
 toothpick. " Not at all. I like Ned too — or, as 
 you say, love him — that's the word among such 
 near relations. I'm very fond of Ned. He's an 
 amazingly good felloAv, and a handsome fellow —
 
 138 BABNABY ETJDGE. 
 
 foolish and weak as yet ; that's all. But the thing 
 is, Haredale — for I'll he very frank, as I told you I 
 would at first — independently of any dislike that 
 you and I might have to being related to each other, 
 and independently of the religious differences be- 
 tween us — and damn it, that's important — I 
 couldn't afford a match of this description. Ned 
 and I couldn't do it. It's impossible." 
 
 " Curb your tongue, in God's name, if this conver- 
 sation is to last," retorted Mr. Haredale fiercely. 
 " I have said I love mv niece. Do vou think that, 
 loving her, I would have her fling her heart away on 
 any man who had your blood in his veins ? " 
 
 "You see," said the other, not at all disturbed, 
 '•the advantage of being so frank and open. Just 
 what I was about to add, upon my honor ! I am 
 amazingly attached to Ned — quite dote upon him, 
 indeed — and even if we could afford to throw our- 
 selves awa}', that very objection would be quite 
 insuperable. — I wish you'd take some wine." 
 
 •• Mark me," said Mr. Haredale, striding to the 
 table, and laying his hand upon it heavily. "If 
 any man believes — presumes to think — that I, in 
 word or deed, or in the wildest dream, ever enter- 
 tained remotely the idea of Emma Haredale's favor- 
 ing the suit of one who was akin to you — in any 
 way — I care not what — he lies. He lies, and does 
 me grievous wrong, in the mere thought." 
 
 "Haredale," returned the other, rocking himself 
 to and fro as in assent, and nodding at the fire, "it's 
 extremely manly, and really very generous in you, 
 to meet me in this unreserved and handsome way. 
 >n my word, those are exactly my sentiments, 
 only expressed with much more force and power
 
 BARXABY BUDGE. 139 
 
 than I could use — you know my sluggish nature, 
 and will forgive me, I am sure." 
 
 ' ; While I would restrain her from all correspond- 
 ence with your son, and sever their intercourse here, 
 though it should cause her death," said Mr. Hare- 
 dale, who had been pacing to and fro, " I would do 
 it kindly and tenderly if I can. I have a trust to 
 discharge which my nature is not formed to under- 
 stand, and, for this reason, the bare fact of there 
 being any love between them comes upon me to-night 
 almost for the first time." 
 
 "I am more delighted than I can possibly tell 
 you," rejoined Mr. Chester with the utmost bland- 
 ness, " to find my own impression so confirmed. 
 You see the advantage of our having met. We 
 understand each other. We quite agree. We have 
 a most complete and thorough explanation, and we 
 know what course to take. — Why don't you taste 
 your tenant's wine ? It's really very good." 
 
 " Pray who," said Mr. Haredale, " have aided 
 Emma or your son ? Who are their go-betweens 
 and agents — do you know ? " 
 
 '•' All the good people hereabouts — the neighbor- 
 hood in general, I think," returned the other with 
 his most affable smile. " The messenger I sent you 
 to-day foremost among them all." 
 
 " The idiot ? Barnaby ? " 
 
 " You are surprised ? I am glad of that, for I 
 was rather so myself. Yes. I wrung that from his 
 mother — a very decent sort of woman — from whom, 
 indeed, I chiefly learnt how serious the matter had 
 become, and so determined to ride out here to-day, 
 and hold a parley with you on this neutral ground. 
 — You're stouter than you used to be, Haredale, 
 but you look extremely well."
 
 140 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Our business, I presume, is nearly at an end," 
 said Mr. Haredale with an expression of impatience 
 he was at no pains to conceal. " Trust me, Mr. 
 Chester, my niece shall change from this time. I 
 will appeal," he added in a lower tone, "to her 
 woman's heart, her dignity, her pride, her duty — " 
 
 " I shall do the same by Ned," said Mr. Chester, 
 restoring some errant fagots to their places in the 
 grate with the toe of his boot. " If there is any- 
 thing real in the world, it is those amazingly tine 
 feelings and those natural obligations which must 
 subsist between father and son. I shall put it to 
 him on every ground of moral and religious feeling. 
 I shall represent to him that we cannot possibly 
 afford it — that I have always looked forward to his 
 marrying well, for a genteel provision for myself in 
 the autumn of life — that there are a great many 
 clamorous dogs to pay, whose claims are perfectly 
 just and right, and who must be paid out of his 
 wife's fortune. In short, that the very highest and 
 most honorable feelings of our nature, with every 
 consideration of filial duty and affection, and all 
 that sort of thing, imperatively demand that he 
 should run away with an heiress." 
 
 " And break her heart as speedily as possible," 
 said Mr. Haredale, drawing on his gloves. 
 
 " There Ned will act exactly as he pleases," 
 returned the other, sipping his wine; "that's entirely 
 his affair. I wouldn't for the world interfere with 
 my son, Haredale, beyond a certain point. The 
 relationship between father and son, you know, is 
 positively quite a holy kind of bond. — Won't you 
 let me persuade you to take one glass of wine ? 
 Well ! as you please, as you please," he added, help- 
 ing himself again.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 141 
 
 " Chester," said Mr. Haredale after a short silence, 
 during which he had eyed his smiling face from 
 time to time intently, " you have the head and heart 
 of an evil spirit in all matters of deception." 
 
 " Your health ! " said the other with a nod. " But 
 I have interrupted you — " 
 
 "If now," pursued Mr. Haredale, "we should find 
 it difficult to separate these young people, and break 
 off their intercourse — if, for instance, you find it 
 difficult on your side, what course do you intend to 
 take ? " 
 
 " Nothing plainer, my good fellow, nothing easier," 
 returned the other, shrugging his shoulders and 
 stretching himself more comfortably before the fire. 
 " I shall then exert those powers on which you 
 flatter me so highly — though, upon my word, I 
 don't deserve your compliments to their full extent 
 
 — and resort to a few little trivial subterfuges for 
 rousing jealousy and resentment. You see ? " 
 
 " In short, justifying the means by the end, we 
 are, as a last resource for tearing them asunder, to 
 resort to treachery and — and lying," said Mr. Hare- 
 dale. 
 
 " Oh dear no ! Fie, fie ! " returned the other, 
 relishing a pinch of snuff extremely. "Not lying. 
 Only a little management, a little diplomacy, a little 
 
 — intriguing, that's the word." 
 
 " I wish," said Mr. Haredale, moving to and fro, 
 and stopping and moving on again, like one who was 
 ill at ease, " that this could have been foreseen or 
 prevented. But as it has gone so far, and it is 
 necessary for us to act, it is of no use shrinking or 
 regretting. Well ! I shall second your endeavors 
 to the utmost of my power. There is one topic in
 
 142 BAEXABY BUDGE. 
 
 the -whole wide range of human thoughts on which 
 we both agree. We shall act in concert, but apart. 
 There will be no need, I hope, for us to meet again." 
 
 "Are you going?" said Mr. Chester, rising with 
 a graceful indolence. " Let me light you down the 
 stairs." 
 
 "Pray keep your seat," returned the other dryly ; 
 "I know the way." So, waving his hand slightly, 
 and putting on his hat as he turned upon his heel, 
 he went clanking out as he had come, shut the door 
 behind him, and tramped down the echoing stairs. 
 
 "Pah! A very coarse animal indeed!" said Mr. 
 Chester, composing himself in the easy-chair again. 
 " A rough brute. Quite a human badger ! " 
 
 John Willet and his friends, who had been listen- 
 ing intently for the clash of swords, or firing of 
 pistols in the great room, and had, indeed, settled 
 the order in which they should rush in when sum- 
 moned — in which procession old John had carefully 
 arranged that he should bring up the rear — were 
 very much astonished to see Mr. Haredale come 
 down without a scratch, call for his horse, and ride 
 away thoughtfully at a foot-pace. After some con- 
 sideration, it was decided that he had left the gen- 
 tleman above for dead, and had adopted this strata- 
 gem to divert suspicion or pursuit. 
 
 As this conclusion involved the necessity of their 
 going upstairs forthwith, they were about to ascend 
 in the order they had agreed upon, when a smart 
 ringing at the guest's bell, as if he had pulled it 
 vigorously, overthrew all their speculations, and in- 
 volved them in great uncertainty and doubt. At 
 length Mr. "Willet agreed to go upstairs himself, es- 
 corted by Hugh and Barnaby, as the strongest and
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 143 
 
 stoutest fellows on the premises, who were to make 
 their appearance under pretence of clearing away 
 the glasses. 
 
 Under this protection, the brave and broad-faced 
 John boldly entered the room, half a foot in ad- 
 vance, and received an order for a bootjack without 
 trembling. But when it was brought, and he leant 
 his sturdy shoulder to the guest, Mr. Willet was 
 observed to look very hard into his boots as he 
 pulled them off, and, by opening his eyes much 
 wider than usual, to appear to express some sur- 
 prise and disappointment at not finding them full 
 of blood. He took occasion, too, to examine the 
 gentleman as closely as he could, expecting to dis- 
 cover sundry loopholes in his person, pierced by his 
 adversary's sword. Finding none, however, and 
 observing in course of time that his guest was as 
 cool and unruffled, both in his dress and temper, as he 
 had been all day, old John now heaved a deep sigh, 
 and began to think no duel had been fought that 
 night. 
 
 "And now, Willet," said Mr. Chester, "if the 
 room's well aired, I'll try the merits of that famous 
 bed." 
 
 " The room, sir," returned John, taking up a can- 
 dle, and nudging Barnaby and Hugh to accompany 
 them, in case the gentleman should unexpectedly 
 drop down faint or dead from some internal wound, 
 "the room's as warm as any toast in a tankard. 
 Barnaby, take you that other candle, and go on 
 before. Hugh! Follow up, sir, with the easy- 
 chair." 
 
 In this order — and still, in his earnest inspec- 
 tion, holding his candle very close to the guest j
 
 144 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 now making him feel extremely warm about the 
 legs, now threatening to set his wig on fire, and 
 constantly begging his pardon with great awkward- 
 ness and embarrassment — John led the party to 
 the best bedroom, which was nearly as large as the 
 chamber from which they had come, and held, 
 drawn out near the fire for warmth, a great old 
 spectral bedstead, hung with faded brocade, and 
 ornamented at the top of each carved post, with a 
 plume of feathers that had once been white, but with 
 dust and age had now grown hearse-like and funereal. 
 
 " Good-night, my friends," said Mr. Chester with 
 a sweet smile, seating himself, when he had sur- 
 veyed the room from end to end, in the easy-chair, 
 which his attendants wheeled before the fire. 
 " Good-night ! Barnaby, my good fellow, you say 
 some prayers before you go to bed, I hope ? " 
 
 Barnaby nodded. " He has some nonsense that 
 he calls his prayers, sir," returned old John offi- 
 ciously. " I'm afraid there ain't much good in 'em." 
 
 " And Hugh ? " said Mr. Chester, turning to him. 
 
 " Not I," he answered. " I know his " — pointing 
 to Barnaby — " they're well enough. He sings 'em 
 sometimes in the straw. I listen." 
 
 " He's quite a animal, sir," John whispered in his 
 ear with dignity. "You'll excuse him, I'm sure. 
 If he has any soul at all, sir, it must be such a very 
 small one, that it don't signify what he does or 
 doesn't in that way. Good-night, sir ! " 
 
 The guest rejoined "God bless you ! " with a fer- 
 vor that was quite affecting ; and John, beckoning 
 his guards to go before, bowed himself out of the 
 room, and left him to his rest in the Maypole's an- 
 cient bed.
 
 ..• 
 
 
 
 
 t m^m 

 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 If Joseph Willet, the denounced and proscribed 
 of 'prentices, had happened to be at home when his 
 father's courtly guest presented himself before the 
 Maypole door — that is, if it had not perversely 
 chanced to be one of the half-dozen days in the 
 whole year on which he was at liberty to absent 
 himself for as many hours without question or re- 
 proach — he would have contrived, by hook or 
 crook, to dive to the very bottom of Mr. Chester's 
 mystery, and to come at his purpose with as much 
 certainty as though he had been his confidential ad- 
 viser. In that fortunate case, the lovers would have 
 had quick warning of the ills that threatened them, 
 and the aid of various timely and wise suggestions 
 to boot ; for all Joe's readiness of thought and 
 action, and all his sympathies and good wishes, 
 were enlisted in favor of the young people, and 
 were stanch in devotion to their cause. Whether 
 this disposition arose out of his old prepossessions 
 in favor of the young lady, whose history had sur- 
 rounded her in his mind, almost from his cradle, 
 with circumstances of unusual interest ; or from 
 his attachment towards the young gentleman, into 
 whose confidence he had, through his shrewdness 
 and alacrity, and the rendering of sundry important 
 TOL. i.-IO. 145
 
 146 BABXABY BUDGE. 
 
 services as a spy and messenger, almost impercepti- 
 bly glided ; whether they had their origin in either 
 of these sources, or in the habit natural to youth, or 
 in the constant badgering and worrying of his ven- 
 erable parent, or in any hidden little love affair of 
 his own which gave him something of a fellow-feel- 
 ing in the matter, it is needless to inquire — espe- 
 cially as Joe was out of the way, and had no 
 opportunit}", on that particular occasion, of testify- 
 ing to his sentiments either on one side or the other. 
 
 It was, in fact, the twenty-fifth of March, which, 
 as most people know to their cost, is, and has been 
 time out of mind, one of those unpleasant epochs 
 termed quarter-days. On this twenty-fifth of March 
 it was John Wil let's pride annually to settle, in 
 hard cash, his account with a certain vintner and 
 distiller in the city of London ; to give into whose 
 hands a canvas bag containing its exact amount, 
 and not a penny more or less, was the end and ob- 
 ject of a journey for Joe, so surely as the year and 
 day came round. 
 
 This journey was performed upon an old gray 
 mare, concerning whom John had an indistinct set 
 of ideas hovering about him, to the effect that she 
 could win a plate or cup if she tried. She never had 
 tried, and probably never would now, being some 
 fourteen or fifteen years of age, short in wind, long 
 in body, and rather the worse for wear in respect of 
 her mane and tail. Notwithstanding these slight 
 defects, John perfectly gloried in the animal ; and 
 when she was brought round to the door by Hugh, 
 actually retired into the bar, and there, in a secret 
 grove of lemons, laughed with pride. 
 
 " There's a bit of horseflesh, Hugh ! " said John,
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 147 
 
 when he had recovered enough of self-command to 
 appear at the door again. " There's a comely 
 creatur ! There's high mettle ! There's bone ! " 
 
 There was bone enough beyond all doubt ; and so 
 Hugh seemed to think, as he sat sideways in the 
 saddle, lazily doubled up with his chin nearly touch- 
 ing his knees ; and heedless of the dangling stirrups 
 and loose bridle-rein, sauntered up and down on the 
 little green before the door. 
 
 '• Mind you take good care of her, sir," said John, 
 appealing from this insensible person to his son and 
 heir, who now appeared, fully equipped and ready. 
 "Don't you ride hard." 
 
 " I should be puzzled to do that, I think, father," 
 Joe replied, casting a disconsolate look at the 
 animal. 
 
 " None of your impudence, sir, if you please," re- 
 torted old John. " What would you ride, sir ? A 
 wild ass or zebra would be too tame for you, wouldn't 
 he, eh, sir ? You'd like to ride a roaring lion, 
 wouldn't you, sir, eh, sir ? Hold your tongue, sir." 
 When Mr. Willet, in his differences with his son, 
 had exhausted all the questions that occurred to 
 him, and Joe had said nothing at all in answer, he 
 generally wound up by bidding him hold his tongue. 
 
 " And what does the boy mean," added Mr. Wil- 
 let, after he had stared at him for a little time in a 
 species of stupefaction, "by cocking his hat to such 
 an extent ? Are you a-going to kill the wintner, 
 sir?" 
 
 " No," said Joe tartly : " I'm not. Now your 
 mind's at ease, father." 
 
 " With a milintary air, too ! " said Mr. Willet, 
 surveying him from top to toe ; " with a swaggering,
 
 148 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 fire-eating, biling-water-drinking sort of way with 
 him ! And what do you mean by pulling up the 
 crocuses and snowdrops, eh, sir ? " 
 
 " It's only a little nosegay," said Joe, reddening. 
 " There's no harm in that, I hope ? " 
 
 " You're a boy of business, you are, sir ! " said 
 Mr. Willet disdainfully, " to go supposing that 
 wintners care for nosegays." 
 
 " I don't suppose anything of the kind," returned 
 Joe. " Let them keep their red noses for bottles 
 and tankards. These are going to Mr. Varden's 
 house." 
 
 " And do you suppose he minds such things as 
 crocuses ? " demanded John. 
 
 " I don't know, and, to say the truth, I don't 
 care," said Joe. " Come, father, give me the money, 
 and in the name of patience let me go." 
 
 " There it is, sir," replied John ; " and take care of 
 it ; and mind you don't make too much haste back, 
 but give the mare a long rest. Do you mind ? " 
 
 " Ay, I mind," returned Joe. " She'll need it, 
 Heaven knows." 
 
 " And don't you score up too much at the Black 
 Lion," said John. " Mind that too." 
 
 " Then why don't you let me have some money of 
 my ow r n ? " retorted Joe sorrowfully ; " why don't 
 you, father? "What do you send me into London 
 for, giving me only the right to call for my dinner 
 at the Black Lion, which you're to pay for next 
 time you go, as if I was not to be trusted with a 
 few shillings ? Why do you use me like this ? It's 
 not right of you. You can't expect me to be quiet 
 under it." 
 
 " Let him have money ! " cried John in a drowsy
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 149 
 
 reverie. "What does he call money — guineas? 
 Hasn't he got money ? Over and above the tolls, 
 hasn't he one and sixpence ? " 
 
 " One and sixpence ! " repeated his son contempt- 
 uously. 
 
 "Yes, sir," returned John, "one and sixpence. 
 When I was your age, I had never seen so much 
 money in a heap. A shilling of it is in case of acci- 
 dents — the mare casting a shoe, or the like of that. 
 The other sixpence is to spend in the diversions 
 of London; and the diversion I recommend is going 
 to the top of the Monument, and sitting there. 
 There's no temptation there, sir — no drink — no 
 young women — no bad characters of any sort — 
 nothing but imagination. That's the way I enjoyed 
 myself when I was your age, sir." 
 
 To this Joe made no answer, but, beckoning Hugh, 
 leaped into the saddle and rode away ; and a very 
 stalwart, manly horseman he looked, deserving a 
 better charger than it was his fortune to bestride. 
 John stood staring after him, or rather after the 
 gray mare (for he had no eyes for her rider) until 
 man and beast had been out of sight some twenty 
 minutes, when he began to think they were gone, 
 and slowly re-entering the house, fell into a gentle 
 doze. 
 
 The unfortunate gray mare, who was the agony of 
 Joe's life, floundered along at her own will and 
 pleasure until the Maypole was no longer visible, 
 and then, contracting her legs into what in a puppet 
 would have been looked upon as a clumsy and awk- 
 ward imitation of a canter, mended her pace all at 
 once, and did it of her own accord. The acquaint- 
 ance with her rider's usual mode of proceeding,
 
 150 BAIINABY RUDGE. 
 
 which suggested this improvement in hers, impelled 
 her likewise to turn up a by-way, leading — not to 
 London, but through lanes running parallel with the 
 road they had come, and passing within a few hun- 
 dred yards of the Maypole, which led finally to an 
 enclosure surrounding a large, old, red-brick man- 
 sion — the same of which mention was made as the 
 Warren in the first chapter of this history. Coming 
 to a dead stop in a little copse thereabout, she suf- 
 fered her rider to dismount with right good will, 
 and to tie her to the trunk of a tree. 
 
 " Stay there, old girl," said Joe, " and let us see 
 whether there's any little commission for me to- 
 day." So saying, he left her to browse upon such 
 stunted grass and weeds as happened to grow with- 
 in the length of her tether, and passing through a 
 wicket-gate, entered the grounds on foot. 
 
 The pathway, after a very few minutes' walking, 
 brought him close to the house, towards which, and 
 especially towards one particular window, he di- 
 rected many covert glances. It was a dreary, silent 
 building, with echoing courtyards, desolated turret 
 chambers, and whole suites of rooms shut up and 
 mouldering to ruin. 
 
 The terrace garden, dark with the shade of over- 
 hanging trees, had an air of melancholy that was 
 quite oppressive. Great iron gates, disused for many 
 years, and red with dust, drooping on their hinges 
 and overgrown with long rank grass, seemed as 
 though they tried to sink into the ground, and hide 
 their fallen state among the friendly weeds. The 
 fantastic monsters on the walls, green with age and 
 damp, and covered here and there with moss, looked 
 grim and desolate. There was a sombre aspect even
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 151 
 
 on that part of the mansion which was inhabited 
 and kept in good repair, that struck the beholder 
 with a sense of sadness ; of something forlorn and 
 failing, whence cheerfulness was banished. It would 
 have been difficult to imagine a bright lire blazing in 
 the dull and darkened rooms, or to picture any 
 gayety of heart or revelry that the frowning walls 
 shut in. It seemed a place where such things had 
 been, but could be no more — the very ghost of a 
 house, haunting the old spot in its old outward form, 
 and that was all. 
 
 Much of this decayed and sombre look was attrib- 
 utable, no doubt, to the death of its former master, 
 and the temper of its present occupant ; but, remem- 
 bering the tale connected with the mansion, it seemed 
 the very place for such a deed, and one that might 
 have been its predestined theatre years upon years 
 ago. Viewed with reference to this legend, the sheet 
 of water where the steward's body had been found 
 appeared to wear a black and sullen character, such 
 as no other pool might own ; the bell upon the roof, 
 that had told the tale of murder to the midnight 
 wind, became a very phantom whose voice would 
 raise the listener's hair on end ; and every leafless 
 bough that nodded to another had its stealthy whis- 
 pering of the crime. 
 
 Joe paced up and down the path, sometimes 
 stopping in affected contemplation of the building 
 or the prospect, sometimes leaning against a tree 
 with an assumed air of idleness and indifference, 
 but always keeping an eye upon the window he had 
 singled out at first. After some quarter of an 
 hour's delay, a small white hand was waved to him 
 for an instant from this casement, and the young
 
 152 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 man, with a respectful bow, departed ; saying under 
 his breath, as he crossed his horse again, " No errand 
 for me to-day ! " 
 
 But the air of smartness, the cock of the hat to 
 which John Willet had objected, and the spring 
 nosegay, ail betokened some little errand of his own, 
 having a more interesting object than a vintner or 
 even a locksmith. So, indeed, it turned out ; for 
 when he had settled with the vintner — whose place 
 of business was down in some deep cellars hard by 
 Thames Street, and who was as purple-faced an old 
 gentleman as if he had all his life supported their 
 arched roof on his head — when he had settled 
 the account, and taken the receipt, and declined 
 tasting more than three glasses of old sherry, to the 
 unbounded astonishment of the purple-faced vintner, 
 who, gimlet in hand, had projected an attack upon 
 at least a score of dusty casks, and who stood trans- 
 fixed, or morally gimleted as it were, to his own wall 
 — when he had done all this, and disposed besides of 
 a frugal dinner at the Black Lion in Whitechapel ; 
 spurning the Monument and John's advice, he 
 turned his steps towards the locksmith's house, 
 attracted by the eyes of blooming Dolly Varden. 
 
 Joe was by no means a sheepish fellow, but, for 
 all that, when he got to the corner of the street in 
 which the locksmith lived, he could by no means 
 make up his mind to walk straight to the house. 
 First, he resolved to stroll up another street for five 
 minutes, then up another street for five minutes 
 more, and so on until he had lost full half an hour, 
 when he made a bold plunge, and found himself 
 with a red face and a beating heart in the smoky 
 workshop.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 153 
 
 " Joe Willet, or his ghost ? " said Varden, rising 
 from the desk at which he was busy with his 
 books, and looking at him under his spectacles. 
 " Which is it ? Joe in the flesh, eh ? That's 
 hearty. And how are all the Chigwell company, 
 Joe ? " 
 
 " Much as usual, sir — they and I agree as well as 
 ever." 
 
 " Well, well ! " said the locksmith. " We must 
 be patient, Joe, and bear with old folks' foibles. 
 How's the mare, Joe ? Does she do the four 
 miles an hour as easily as ever ? Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Does she, Joe ? Eh ? — what have we there, Joe 
 
 — a nosegay ? " 
 
 "A very poor one, sir. I thought Miss Dolly — " 
 
 " No, no," said Gabriel, dropping his voice and 
 shaking his head. " Not Dolly. Give 'em to her 
 mother, Joe. A greal deal better give 'em to her 
 mother. Would you mind giving 'em to Mrs. Var- 
 den, Joe ? " 
 
 " Oh no, sir," Joe replied, and endeavoring, but not 
 with the greatest possible success, to hide his disap- 
 pointment. " I shall be very glad, I'm sure." 
 
 " That's right," said the locksmith, patting him 
 on the back. " It don't matter who has 'em, Joe ? " 
 
 "Not a bit, sir." — Dear heart, how the words 
 stuck in his throat ! 
 
 " Come in," said Gabriel. " I have just been called 
 to tea. She's in the parlor." 
 
 " She," thought Joe. " Which of 'em, I wonder 
 
 — Mrs. or Miss ? " The locksmith settled the doubt 
 as neatly as if it had been expressed aloud, by 
 leading him to the door, and saying, " Martha, my 
 dear, here's young Mr. Willet."
 
 154 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Varden, regarding the Maypole as a 
 sort of human man-trap, or decoy for husbands ; 
 viewing its proprietor and all who aided and abetted 
 him, in the light of so many poachers among Chris- 
 tian men ; and believing, moreover, that the publi- 
 cans coupled with sinners in Holy Writ were 
 veritable licensed victuallers ; was far from being 
 favorably disposed towards her visitor. Where- 
 fore she was taken faint directly ; and, being duly 
 presented with the crocuses and snowdrops, divined, 
 on further consideration, that they were the occasion 
 of the languor which had seized upon her spirits. 
 "I'm afraid I couldn't bear the room another min- 
 ute," said the good lady, "if they remained here. 
 Would you excuse my putting them out of 
 window ? " 
 
 Joe begged she wouldn't mention it on any 
 account, and smiled feebly as he saw them deposited 
 on the sill outside. If anybody could have known 
 the pains he had taken to make up that despised and 
 misused bunch of flowers ! 
 
 "I feel it quite a relief to get rid of them, I 
 assure you," said Mrs. Varden. "I am better 
 already." And indeed she did appear to have 
 plucked up her spirits. 
 
 Joe expressed his gratitude to Providence for this 
 favorable dispensation, and tried to look as if he 
 didn't wonder where Dolly was. 
 
 "You're sad people at Chigwell, Mr. Joseph," said 
 Mrs. V. 
 
 " I hope not, ma'am," returned Joe. 
 
 " You're the cruellest and most inconsiderate peo- 
 ple in the world," said Mrs. Varden, bridling. "I 
 wonder old "SI v. Willet, having been a married man
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 155 
 
 himself, doesn't know better than to conduct himself 
 as he does. His doing it for profit is no excuse. I 
 would rather pay the money twenty times over, and 
 have Yarden come home like a respectable and 
 sober tradesman. If there is one character," said 
 Mrs. Yarden with great emphasis, " that offends and 
 disgusts me more than another, it is a sot." 
 
 " Come, Martha, my dear," said the locksmith 
 cheerily, " let us have tea, and don't let us talk about 
 sots. There are none here, and Joe don't want to 
 hear about them, I dare say." 
 
 At this crisis Miggs appeared with toast. 
 
 " I dare say he does not," said Mrs. Varden ; " and 
 I dare say you do not, Varden. It's a very unpleas- 
 ant subject I have no doubt, though I won't say it's 
 personal " — Miggs coughed — " whatever I may be 
 forced to think," Miggs sneezed expressively. " You 
 never will know, Yarden, and nobody at young Mr. 
 Willet's age — you'll excuse me, sir — can be ex- 
 pected to know, what a woman suffers when she is 
 waiting at home under such circumstances. If you 
 don't believe me, as I know you don't, here's Miggs, 
 who is only too often a witness of it — ask her." 
 
 " Oh ! she were very bad the other night, sir, 
 indeed she were," said Miggs. " If you hadn't the 
 sweetness of an angel in you, mini, I don't think 
 you could abear it, I raly don't." 
 
 •• Miggs," said Mrs. Yarden, "you're profane." 
 
 " Begging your pardon, mim," returned Miggs 
 with shrill rapidity, " such was not my intentions, 
 and such I hope is not my character, though I am 
 but a servant." 
 
 " Answering me, Miggs, and providing yourself," 
 retorted her mistress, looking round with dignity,
 
 156 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " is one and the same thing. How dare you speak 
 of angels in connection with your sinful fellow- 
 beings — mere" — said Mrs. Varden, glancing at 
 herself in a neighboring mirror, and arranging the 
 ribbon of her cap in a more becoming fashion — 
 " mere worms and grovellers as we are ? " 
 
 "I did not intend, mim, if you please, to give 
 offence," said Miggs, confident in the strength of 
 her compliment, and developing strongly in the 
 throat as usual, " and I did not expect it would be 
 took as such. I hope I know my own unworthiness, 
 and that I hate and despise myself and all my 
 fellow-creatures as every practical Christian should." 
 
 " You'll have the goodness, if you please," said 
 Mrs. Varden loftily, "to step upstairs and see if 
 Dolly has finished dressing, and to tell her that the 
 chair that was ordered for her will be here in a 
 minute, and that if she keeps it waiting, I shall 
 send it away that instant. — I'm sorry to see that 
 you don't take your tea, Varden, and that you don't 
 take yours, Mr. Joseph ; though of course it would 
 be foolish of me to expect that anything that can 
 be had at home, and in the company of females, 
 would please yon." 
 
 This pronoun was understood in the plural sense, 
 and included both gentlemen, upon both of whom it 
 was rather hard and \mdeserved, for Gabriel had 
 applied himself to the meal with a very promising 
 appetite, until it was spoilt by Mrs. Varden herself, 
 and Joe had as great a liking for the female society 
 of the locksmith's house — or for a part of it at all 
 events — as man could well entertain. 
 
 But he had no opportunity to say anything in his 
 own defence, for at that moment Dolly herself
 
 BAKNABY BUDGE. 157 
 
 appeared, and struck him quite dumb with her 
 beauty. Never had Dolly looked so handsome as 
 she did then, in all the glow and grace of youth, 
 with all her charms increased a hundred-fold by a 
 most becoming dress, by a thousand little coquettish 
 ways which nobody could assume with a better 
 grace, and all the sparkling expectation of that 
 accursed party. It is impossible to tell how Joe 
 hated that party, wherever it was, and all the other 
 people who were going to it, whoever they were. 
 
 And she hardly looked at him — no, hardly looked 
 at him. And when the chair was seen through the 
 open door coming blundering into the workshop, she 
 actually clapped her hands and seemed glad to go. 
 But Joe gave her his arm — there was some comfort 
 in that — and handed her into it. To see her seat 
 herself inside, with her laughing eyes brighter than 
 diamonds, and her hand — surely she had the pret- 
 tiest hand in the world — on the ledge of the open 
 window, and her little finger provokingly and pertly 
 tilted up, as if it wondered why Joe didn't squeeze 
 or kiss it ! To think how well one or two of the 
 modest snowdrops would have become that delicate 
 bodice, and how they were lying neglected outside 
 the parlor window ! To see how Miggs looked on, 
 with a face expressive of knowing how all this love- 
 liness was got up, and of being in the secret of 
 every string and pin and hook and eye, and of saying 
 it ain't half as real as you think, and I could look 
 quite as well myself if I took the pains ! To hear 
 that provoking precious little scream when the chair 
 was hoisted on its poles, and to catch that transient 
 but not-to-be-forgotten vision of the happy face 
 within — what torments and aggravations, and yet
 
 158 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 what delights were these ! The very chairmen seemed 
 favored rivals as they bore her down the street. 
 
 There never was such an alteration in a small 
 room in a small time as in that parlor when they 
 went back to tinish tea. So dark, so deserted, so 
 perfectly disenchanted. It seemed such sheer non- 
 sense to be sitting tamely there, when she was at a 
 dance with more lovers than man could calculate 
 fluttering about her — with the whole party doting 
 on and adoring her, and wanting to marry her. 
 Miggs was hovering about too ; and the fact of her 
 existence, the mere circumstance of her ever having 
 been born, appeared, after Dolly, such an unaccount- 
 able practical joke. It was impossible to talk. It 
 couldn't be done. He had nothing left for it but to 
 stir his tea round, and round, and round, and rumi- 
 nate on all the fascinations of the locksmith's 
 lovely daughter. 
 
 Gabriel was dull too. It was a part of the certain 
 uncertainty of Mrs. Varden's temper, that when 
 they were in this condition, she should be gay and 
 sprightly. 
 
 " I need have a cheerful disposition, I am sure," 
 said the smiling housewife, "to preserve any spirits 
 at all ; and how I do it I can scarcely tell." 
 
 " Ah, mim," sighed Miggs, " begging your pardon 
 for the interruption, there ain't a many like you." 
 
 " Take away, Miggs," said Mrs. Varden, rising, 
 "take away, pr-ay. I know I'm a restraint here, 
 and as I wish everybody to enjoy themselves as they 
 best can, I feel I had better go." 
 
 "No, no, Martha," cried the locksmith. "Stop 
 here. I'm sure we shall be very sorry to lose you, 
 eh, Joe ? " Joe started and said, " Certainly."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 159 
 
 "Thank you, Varden, my dear," returned his 
 wife ; " but I know your wishes better. Tobacco 
 and beer, or spirits, have much greater attractions 
 than any /can boast of, and therefore I shall go and 
 sit upstairs and look out of window, my love. 
 Good-night, Mr. Joseph. I'm very glad to have 
 seen yon, and only wish I could have provided some- 
 thing more suitable to your taste. Remember me 
 very kindly, if you please, to old Mr. Willet, and 
 tell him that whenever he comes here I have a crow 
 to pluck with him. Good-night ! " 
 
 Having uttered these words with great sweetness 
 of manner, the good lady dropped a curtsy remark- 
 able for its condescension, and serenely withdrew. 
 
 And it was for this Joe had looked forward to the 
 twenty-fifth of March for weeks and weeks, and had 
 gathered the flowers with so much care, and had 
 cocked his hat, and made himself so smart ! This 
 was the end of all his bold determination, resolved 
 upon for the hundredth time, to speak out to Dolly 
 and tell her how he loved her ! To see her for a 
 minute — for but a minute — to find her going out 
 to a party, and glad to go ; to be looked upon as a 
 common pipe-smoker, beer-bibber, spirit-guzzler, and 
 toss-pot ! He bade farewell to his friend the lock- 
 smith, and hastened to take horse at the Black Lion, 
 thinking as he turned towards home, as many 
 another Joe has thought before and since, that here 
 was an end to all his hopes — that the thing was 
 impossible, and never could be — that she didn't 
 care for him — that he was wretched for life — and 
 that the only congenial prospect left him was to go 
 for a soldier or a sailor, and get some obliging 
 enemy to knock his brains out as soon as possible.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Joe Willet rode leisurely along in his despond- 
 ing mood, picturing the locksmith's daughter going 
 down long country dances, and poussetting dreadfully 
 with bold strangers — which was almost too much 
 to bear — when he heard the tramp of a horse's feet 
 behind him, and looking back, saw a well-mounted 
 gentleman advancing at a smart canter. As this 
 rider passed, he checked his steed, and called him 
 of the Maypole by his name. Joe set spurs to the 
 gray mare, and was at his side directly. 
 
 " I thought it was you, sir," he said, touching his 
 hat. " A fair evening, sir. Glad to see you out of 
 doors again." 
 
 The gentleman smiled and nodded. " What gay 
 doings have been going on to-day, Joe ? Is she as 
 pretty as ever ? Nay, don't blush, man." 
 
 " If I colored at all, Mr. Edward," said Joe, 
 "it was to think I should have been such a fool as 
 ever to have any hope of her. She's as far out of 
 my reach as — as Heaven is." 
 
 " Well, Joe, I hope that's not altogether beyond 
 it," said Edward good-humoredly. " Eh ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " sighed Joe. " It's all very fine talking, sir. 
 Proverbs are easily made in cold blood. But it 
 can't be helped. Are you bound for our house, sir ? " 
 
 160
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 161 
 
 " Yes. As I am not quite strong yet, I shall stay 
 there to-night, and ride home coolly in the morning." 
 
 "If you're in no particular hurry," said Joe after 
 a short silence, " and will bear with the pace of this 
 poor jade, I shall be glad to ride on with you to the 
 Warren, sir, and hold your horse when you dismount. 
 It'll save you having to walk from the Maypole, 
 there and back again. I can spare the time well, 
 sir, for I am too soon." 
 
 " And so am I," returned Edward, " though I was 
 unconsciously riding fast just now, in compliment, I 
 suppose, to the pace of my thoughts, which were 
 travelling post. We will keep together, Joe, 
 willingly, and be as good company as may be. And 
 cheer up, cheer up ; think of the locksmith's daugh- 
 ter with a stout heart, and you shall win her yet." 
 
 Joe shook his head ; but there was something so 
 cheery in the buoyant hopeful manner of this speech, 
 that his spirits rose under its influence, and communi- 
 cated, as it would seem, some new impulse even to 
 the gray mare, who, breaking from her sober amble 
 into a gentle trot, emulated the pace of Edward 
 Chester's horse, and appeared to flatter herself that 
 he was doing his very best. 
 
 It was a fine dry night, and the light of a young 
 moon which was then just rising, shed around that 
 peace and tranquillity which gives to evening-time 
 its most delicious charm. The lengthened shadows 
 of the trees, softened as if reflected in still water, 
 threw their carpet on the path the travellers pursued, 
 and the light wind stirred yet more softly than 
 before, as though it were soothing nature in her 
 sleep. By little and little they ceased talking, and 
 rode on side by side in a pleasant silence. 
 vol. i.-ll.
 
 162 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 "The Maypole, lights are brilliant to-night," said 
 Edward, as they rode along the lane from which, 
 while the intervening trees were bare of leaves, 
 that hostelry was visible. 
 
 "Brilliant indeed, sir," returned Joe, rising in his 
 stirrups to get a better view. " Lights in the large 
 room, and a fire glimmering in the best bedchamber ? 
 Why, what company can this be for, I wonder ? " 
 
 "Some benighted horseman wending towards 
 London, and deterred from going on to-night by the 
 marvellous tales of my friend the highwayman, I 
 suppose," said Edward. 
 
 " He must be a horseman of good quality to have 
 such accommodations. Your bed too, sir ! " 
 
 "No matter, Joe. Any other room will do for 
 me. But come — there's nine striking. We may 
 push on." 
 
 They cantered forward at as brisk a pace as Joe's 
 charger could attain, and presently stopped in the 
 little copse where he had left her in the morning. 
 Edward dismounted, gave his bridle to his compan- 
 ion, and walked with a light step towards the house. 
 
 A female servant was waiting at a side-gate in the 
 garden wall, and admitted him without delay. He 
 harried along the terrace walk, and darted up a flight 
 of broad steps leading into an old and gloomy hall, 
 whose walls were ornamented with rusty suits of 
 armor, antlers, weapons of the chase, and such like 
 garniture. Here he paused, but not long ; for as he 
 looked round, as if expecting the attendant to have 
 followed, and wondering she had not done so, a 
 lovely girl appeared, whose dark hair next moment 
 rested on his breast. Almost at the same instant a 
 heavy hand was laid upon her arm, Edward felt
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 163 
 
 himself thrust away, and Mr. Haredale stood 
 between them. 
 
 He regarded the young man sternly without 
 removing his hat ; with one hand clasped his niece, 
 and with the other, in which he held his riding-whip, 
 motioned him towards the door. The young man 
 drew himself up, and returned his gaze. 
 
 "This is well done of you, sir, to corrupt my 
 servants, and enter my house unbidden and in 
 secret, like a thief ! " said Mr. Haredale. " Leave 
 it, sir, and return no more." 
 
 " Miss Haredale's presence," returned the young 
 man, "and your relationship to her, give you a 
 license which, if you are a brave man, you will not 
 abuse. You have compelled me to this course, and 
 the fault is yours — not mine." 
 
 " It is neither generous, nor honorable, nor the act 
 of a true man, sir," retorted the other, " to tamper 
 with the affections of a weak, trusting girl, while 
 you shrink, in your unworthiness, from her guardian 
 and protector, and dare not meet the light of day. 
 More than this I will not say to you, save that I 
 forbid you this house, and require you to be gone." 
 
 " It is neither generous, nor honorable, nor the act 
 of a true man to play the spy," said Edward. 
 " Your words imply dishonor, and I reject them with 
 the scorn they merit." 
 
 " You will find," said Mr. Haredale calmly, "your 
 trusty go-between in waiting at the gate by which 
 you entered. I have played no spy's part, sir. I 
 chanced to see you pass the gate, and followed. You 
 might have heard me knocking for admission, had 
 you been less swift of foot, or lingered in the gar- 
 den. Please to withdraw. Your presence here is
 
 164 BAKNABY RUDGE. 
 
 offensive to me and distressful to my niece." As he 
 said these words, he passed his arm about the waist 
 of the terrified and weeping girl, and drew her closer 
 to him ; and though the habitual severity of his 
 manner was scarcely changed, there was yet apparent 
 in the action an air of kindness and sympathy for 
 her distress. 
 
 "Mr. Haredale," said Edward, "your arm encircles 
 her on whom I have set my every hope and thought, 
 and to purchase one minute's happiness for whom 
 I would gladly lay down my life ; this house is the 
 casket that holds the precious jewel of my exist- 
 ence. Your niece has plighted her faith to me, and 
 I have plighted mine to her. What have I done 
 that you should hold me in this light esteem, and 
 give me these discourteous words ? " 
 
 "You have done that, sir," answered Mr. Hare- 
 dale, "which must be undone. You have tied a 
 lover's knot here which must be cut asunder. Take 
 good heed of what I say. Must. I cancel the 
 bond between ye. I reject you, and all of your 
 kith and kin — all the false, hollow, heartless 
 stock." 
 
 " High words, sir," said Edward scornfully. 
 
 "Words of purpose and meaning, as you will 
 find," replied the other. " Lay them to heart." 
 
 " Lay you then, these," said Edward. " Your 
 cold and sullen temper, which chills every breast 
 about you, which turns affection into fear, and 
 changes duty into dread, has forced us on this 
 secret course, repugnant to our nature and our wish, 
 and far more foreign, sir, to us than you. I am not 
 a false, a hollow, or a heartless man ; the character 
 is yours, who poorly venture on these injurious
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 165 
 
 terms, against the truth, and under the shelter 
 whereof I reminded you just now. You shall not 
 cancel the bond between us. I will not abandon 
 this pursuit. I rely upon your niece's truth and 
 honor, and set your influence at naught. I leave 
 her with a confidence in her pure faith, which you 
 will never weaken, and with no concern but that I 
 do not leave her in some gentler care." 
 
 With that, he pressed her cold hand to his lips, 
 and once more encountering and returning Mr. 
 Haredale's steady look, withdrew. 
 
 A few words to Joe as he mounted his horse suf- 
 ficiently explained what had passed, and renewed 
 all that young gentleman's despondency with ten- 
 fold aggravation. They rode back to the Maypole 
 without exchanging a syllable, and arrived at the 
 door with heavy hearts. 
 
 Old John, who had peeped from behind the red 
 curtain as they rode up shouting for Hugh, was out 
 directly, and said with great importance, as he held 
 the young man's stirrup, — 
 
 "He's comfortable in bed — the best bed. A 
 thorough gentleman ; the smilingest, affablest gen- 
 tleman I ever had to do with." 
 
 " Who, Willet ? " said Edward carelessly as he 
 dismounted. 
 
 " Your worthy father, sir," replied John. " Your 
 honorable, venerable father." 
 
 " What does he mean ? " said Edward, looking 
 with a mixture of alarm and doubt at Joe. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Joe. " Don't you 
 see Mr. Edward doesn't understand, father ? " 
 
 " Why, didn't you know of it, sir ? " said John, 
 opening his eyes wide. " How very singular !
 
 166 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Bless you, he's been here ever since noon to-day, 
 and Mr. Haredale has been having a long talk with 
 him, and hasn't been gone an hour." 
 
 " My father, Willet ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he told me so — a handsome, slim, up- 
 right gentleman, in green and gold. In your old 
 room up yonder, sir. No doubt you can go in, sir," 
 said John, walking backwards into the road, and 
 looking up at the window. " He hasn't put out his 
 candles yet, I see." 
 
 Edward glanced at the window also, and hastily 
 murmuring that he had changed his mind — forgot- 
 ten something — and must return to London, 
 mounted his horse again and rode away ; leaving 
 the Willets, father and son, looking at each other 
 in mute astonishment.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 At noon next day John Willet's guest sat linger- 
 ing over his breakfast in his own home, surrounded 
 by a variety of comforts, which left the Maypole's 
 highest flight and utmost stretch of accommodation 
 at an infinite distance behind, and suggested com- 
 parisons very much to the disadvantage and dis- 
 favor of that venerable tavern. 
 
 In the broad old-fashioned window-seat — as 
 capacious as many modern sofas, and cushioned 
 to serve the purpose of a luxurious settee — in the 
 broad old-fashioned window-seat of a roomy cham- 
 ber Mr. Chester lounged, very much at his ease, over 
 a well-furnished breakfast table. He had exchanged 
 his riding-coat for a handsome morning gown, his 
 boots for slippers ; had been at great pains to atone 
 for the having been obliged to make his toilet when 
 he rose without the aid of dressing-case and tiring 
 equipage ; and, having gradually forgotten through 
 these means the discomforts of an indifferent night 
 and an early ride, was in a state of perfect compla- 
 cency, indolence, and satisfaction. 
 
 The situation in which he found himself, indeed, 
 was particularly favorable to the growth of these 
 feelings ; for, not to mention the lazy influence of a 
 late and lonely breakfast, with the additional seda- 
 
 167
 
 168 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 tive of a newspaper, there was an air of repose 
 about his place of residence peculiar to itself, and 
 which hangs about it, even in these times, when it 
 is more bustling and busy than it was in days of 
 yore. 
 
 There are, still, worse places than the Temple, on 
 a sultry day, for basking in the sun, or resting idty 
 in the shade. There is yet a drowsiness in its 
 courts, and a dreamy dulness in its trees and gar- 
 dens : those who pace its lanes and squares may yet 
 hear the echoes of their footsteps on the sounding 
 stones, and read upon its gates, in passing from the 
 tumult of the Strand or Fleet Street, " Who enters 
 here leaves noise behind." There is still the plash 
 of falling water in fair Fountain Court, and there 
 are yet nooks and corners where dun-haunted stu- 
 dents may look down from their dusty garrets on a 
 vagrant ray of sunlight patching the shade of the 
 tall houses, and seldom troubled to reflect a passing 
 stranger's form. There is yet, in the Temple, some- 
 thing of a clerkly monkish atmosphere, which pub- 
 lic offices of law have not disturbed, and even legal 
 firms have failed to scare away. In summer time 
 its pumps suggest, to thirsty idlers, springs cooler, 
 and more sparkling, and deeper than other wells ; 
 and as they trace the spillings of full pitchers on 
 the heated ground, they snuff the freshness, and, 
 sighing, cast sad looks towards the Thames, and 
 think of baths and boats, and saunter on, despond- 
 ent. 
 
 It was in a room in Paper Buildings — a row of 
 goodly tenements, shaded in front by ancient trees, 
 and looking, at the back, upon the Temple Gardens 
 — that this, our idler, lounged ; now taking up
 
 WW ■ '■ >
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 169 
 
 again the paper he had laid down a hundred times ; 
 now trifling with the fragments of his meal ; now 
 pulling forth his golden toothpick, and glancing lei- 
 surely about the room, or out at window into the 
 trim garden walks, where a few early loiterers were 
 already pacing to and fro. Here a pair of lovers 
 met to quarrel and make up ; there a dark-eyed 
 nursery-maid had better eyes for Templars than her 
 charge ; on this hand an ancient spinster, with her 
 lap-dog in a string, regarded both enormities with 
 scornful sidelong looks ; on that a weazen old gen- 
 tleman, ogling the nursery-maid, looked with like 
 scorn upon the spinster, and wondered she didn't 
 know she was no longer young. Apart from all 
 these, on the river's margin two or three couple of 
 business talkers walked slowly up and down in ear- 
 nest conversation ; and one young man sat thought- 
 fully on a bench alone. 
 
 " Ned is amazingly patient ! " said Mr. Chester, 
 glancing at this last-named person as he set down 
 his teacup and plied the golden toothpick, "im- 
 mensely patient ! He was sitting yonder when I 
 began to dress, and has scarcely changed his posture 
 since. A most eccentric dog ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the figure rose, and came towards 
 him with a rapid pace. 
 
 " Really, as if he had heard me," said the father, 
 resuming his newspaper with a yawn. " Dear 
 Ned ! " 
 
 Presently the room-door opened, and the young 
 man entered ; to whom his father gently waved his 
 hand, and smiled. 
 
 "Are you at leisure for a little conversation, 
 sir ? " said Edward.
 
 170 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Surely, Ned. I am always at leisure. You 
 know my constitution. — Have you breakfasted ? " 
 
 " Three hours ago." 
 
 " "What a very early dog ! " cried his father, con- 
 templating him from behind his toothpick with a 
 languid smile. 
 
 "The truth is," said Edward, bringing a chair 
 forward, and seating himself near the table, "that. 
 I slept but ill last night, and was glad to rise. The 
 cause of my uneasiness cannot but be known to you, 
 sir ; and it is upon that I wish to speak." 
 
 " My dear boy," returned his father, " confide in 
 me, I beg. But you know my constitution — don't 
 be prosy, Ned." 
 
 " I will be plain and brief," said Edward. 
 
 "Don't say you will, my good fellow," returned 
 his father, crossing his legs, "or you certainly will 
 not. You are going to tell me " 
 
 "Plainly this, then," said the son with an air of 
 great concern, "that I know where you were last 
 night — from being on the spot, indeed — and whom 
 you saw. and what your purpose was." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " cried his father. " I am 
 delighted to hear it. It saves us the worry, and 
 terrible wear and tear, of a long explanation, and is 
 a great relief for both. At the very house ! Why 
 didn't you come up ? I should have been charmed 
 to see you." 
 
 " I knew that what I had to say would be better 
 said after a night's reflection, when both of us were 
 cool," returned the son. 
 
 "'Fore Gad, Ned," rejoined the father, "I was 
 cool enough last night. That detestable Maypole ! 
 By some infernal contrivance of the builder, it holds
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 171 
 
 the wind and keeps it fresh. You remember the 
 sharp east wind that blew so hard five weeks ago ? 
 I give you my honor it was rampant in that old 
 house last night, though out of doors there was a 
 dead calm. But you were saying — " 
 
 "I was about to say, Heaven knows how seriously 
 and earnestly, that you have made me wretched, sir. 
 Will you hear ine gravely for a moment ? " 
 
 " My dear Ned," said his father, " I will hear you 
 with the patience of an anchorite. Oblige me with 
 the milk." 
 
 " I saw Miss Haredale last night," Edward re- 
 sumed when he had complied with this request ; 
 " her uncle, in her presence, immediately after your 
 interview, and, as of course, I know, in consequence 
 of it, forbade me the house, and, with circumstances 
 of indignity which are of your creation I am sure, 
 commanded me to leave it on the instant." 
 
 "For his manner of doing so I give you my honor, 
 Ned, I am not accountable," said his father. " That 
 you must excuse. He is a mere boor, a log, a brute, 
 with no address in life. — Positively a fly in the 
 jug. The first I have seen this year." 
 
 Edward rose and paced the room. His impertur- 
 bable parent sipped his tea. 
 
 " Father," said the young man, stopping at length 
 before him, " we must not trifle in this matter. We 
 must not deceive each other, or ourselves. Let me 
 pursue the manly, open part I wish to take, and do 
 not repel me by this unkind indifference." 
 
 " Whether I am indifferent or no," returned the 
 other, " I leave you, my dear boy, to judge. A ride 
 of twenty-five or thirty miles through miry roads — 
 a Maypole dinner — a tete-a-tete with Haredale,
 
 172 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 which, vanity apart, was quite a Valentine and 
 Orson business — a Maypole bed — a Maypole land- 
 lord, and a Maypole retinue of idiots and centaurs ; 
 — whether the voluntary endurance of these things 
 looks like indifference, dear Ned, or like the exces- 
 sive anxiety, and devotion, and all that sort of 
 thing, of a parent, you shall determine for your- 
 self." 
 
 " I wish you to consider, sir," said Edward, " in 
 what a cruel situation I am placed. Loving Miss 
 Haredale as I do — " 
 
 "My dear fellow," interrupted his father with a 
 compassionate smile, " you do nothing of the kind. 
 Yon don't know anything about it. There's no such 
 thing, I assure you. Now, do take my word for it. 
 You have good sense, Ned, — great good sense. I 
 wonder you should be gnilty of such amazing ab- 
 surdities. You really surprise me." 
 
 " I repeat," said his son firmly, " that I love her. 
 You have interposed to part us, and have, to the 
 extent I have just now told you of, succeeded. May 
 I induce you, sir, in time to think more favorably of 
 our attachment, or is it your intention and your fixed 
 design to hold us asunder if you can ? " 
 
 "My dear Ned," returned his father, taking a 
 pinch of snuff and pushing his box towards him, 
 " that is my purpose most undoubtedly." 
 
 "The time that has elapsed," rejoined his son, 
 "since I began to know her worth, has flown in such 
 a dream that until now I have hardly once paused to 
 reflect upon my true position. What is it ? From 
 my childhood I have been accustomed to luxury and 
 idleness, and have been bred as though my fortune 
 were large, and my expectations almost without a
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 173 
 
 limit. The idea of wealth has been familiarized to 
 me from my cradle. I have been taught to look 
 upon those means, by which men raise themselves 
 to riches and distinction, as being beyond my heed- 
 ing, and beneath my care. I have been, as the 
 phrase is. liberally educated, and am fit for nothing. 
 I find n^self at last wholly dependent upon you, 
 with no resource but in your favor. In this mo- 
 mentous question of my life we do not, and it would 
 seem we never can, agree. I have shrunk instinc- 
 tively alike from those to whom you have urged me 
 to pay court, and from the motives of interest and 
 gain which have rendered them in your eyes visible 
 objects for my suit. If there never has been thus 
 much plain-speaking between us before, sir, the 
 fault has not been mine, indeed. If I seem to speak 
 too plainly now, it is, believe me, father, in the 
 hope that there may be a franker spirit, a worthier 
 reliance, and a kinder confidence between us in time 
 to come." 
 
 '• My good fellow," said his smiling father, "you 
 quite affect me. Go on, my dear Edward, I beg. 
 But remember your promise. There is great ear- 
 nestness, vast candor, a manifest sincerity in all you 
 say, but I fear I observe the faintest indications of 
 a tendency to prose." 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir." 
 
 " I am very sorry too, Ned, but you know that I 
 cannot fix my mind for any long period upon one 
 subject. If you'll come to the point at once, I'll 
 imagine all that ought to go before, and conclude it 
 said. Oblige me with the milk again. Listening 
 invariably makes me feverish." 
 
 "What I would say, then, tends to this," said
 
 174 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 Edward. " T cannot bear this absolute dependence, 
 sir, even upon you. Time has been lost and oppor- 
 tunity thrown away, but T am yet a young man, and 
 may retrieve it. Will you give me the means of 
 devoting such abilities and energies as I possess to 
 some worthy pursuit ? Will you let me try to 
 make for myself an honorable path in life ? For 
 any term you please to name — say for five years if 
 you will — I will pledge myself to move no further 
 in the matter of our difference without your full 
 concurrence. During that period I will endeavor 
 earnestly and patiently, if ever man did, to open 
 some prospect for mycelf, and free you from the 
 burden you fear I should become if I married one 
 whose worth and beauty are her chief endowments. 
 Will you do this, sir ? At the expiration of the 
 term we agree upon, let us discuss this subject 
 again. Till then, unless it is revived by you, let it 
 never be renewed between lis." 
 
 " My dear Ned," returned his father, laying down 
 the newspaper at which he had been glancing care- 
 lessly, and throwing himself back in the window- 
 seat, " I believe you know how very much I dislike 
 what are called family affairs, which are only fit 
 for plebeian Christmas-days, and have no manner of 
 business with people of our condition. But as you 
 are proceeding upon a mistake, Ned — altogether 
 upon a mistake — I will conquer my repugnance to 
 entering on such matters, and give you a perfectly 
 plain and candid answer, if you will do me the favor 
 to shut the door." 
 
 Edward having obeyed him, he took an elegant 
 little knife from his pocket, and paring his nails, 
 continued, —
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 175 
 
 "You have to thank me, Ned, for being of good 
 family ; for your mother, charming person as she 
 was, and almost broken-hearted, and so forth, as she 
 left me, when she was prematurely compelled to 
 become immortal — had nothing to boast of in that 
 respect." 
 
 " Her father was at least an eminent lawyer, sir," 
 said Edward. 
 
 "Quite right, Ned; perfectly so. He stood high 
 at the bar, had a great name and great wealth, but 
 having risen from nothing — I have always closed 
 my eyes to the circumstance, and steadily resisted 
 its contemplation, but I fear his father dealt in pork, 
 and that his business did once involve cow-heel and 
 sausages — he wished to marry his daughter into a 
 good family. He had his heart's desire, Ned. I 
 was a younger son's younger son, and I married her. 
 We each had our object, and gained it. She stepped 
 at once into the politest and best circles, and I 
 stepped into a fortune which I assure you was very 
 necessary to my comfort — quite indispensable. 
 Now, my good fellow, that fortune is among the 
 things that have been. It is gone, Ned, and has 
 been gone — How old are you? I always for- 
 get." 
 
 " Seven and twenty, sir." 
 
 "Are you indeed?" cried his father, raising his 
 eyelids in a languishing surprise. " So much ! 
 Then I should say. Ned, that, as nearly as I remem- 
 ber, its skirts vanished from human knowledge about 
 eighteen or nineteen years ago. It was about that 
 time when I came to live in these chambers (once 
 your grandfather's, and bequeathed by that extremely 
 respectable person to me), and commenced to live
 
 176 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 upon an inconsiderable annuity and my past 
 reputation." 
 
 " You are jesting with me, sir," said Edward. 
 
 "Not in the slightest degree, I assure you," re- 
 turned his father with great composure. " These 
 family topics are so extremely dry, that I am sorry 
 to say they don't admit of any such relief. It is for 
 that reason, and because they have an appearance of 
 business, that I dislike them so very much. Well ! 
 You know the rest. A son, Ned, unless he is old 
 enough to be a companion — that is to say, unless 
 he is some two or three and twenty — is not the 
 kind of thing to have about one. He is a restraint 
 upon his father, his father is a restraint upon him, 
 and they make each other mutually uncomfortable. 
 Therefore, until within the last four years or so — I 
 have a poor memory for dates, and, if I mistake, 
 you will correct me in your own mind — you pur- 
 sued your studies at a distance, and picked up a 
 great variety of accomplishments. Occasionally we 
 passed a week or two together here, and disconcerted 
 each other as only such near relations can. At last 
 you came home. I candidly tell you, my dear boy, 
 that if you had been awkward and overgrown, I should 
 have exported you to some distant part of the world." 
 
 " I wish with all my soul you had, sir," said 
 Edward. 
 
 "No, you don't, Ned," rejoined his father coolly; 
 "you are mistaken, I assure you. I found you a 
 handsome, prepossessing, elegant fellow, and I threw 
 you into the society I can still command. Having 
 done that, my dear fellow, I consider that I have 
 provided for you in life, and rely on your doing 
 something to provide for me in return."
 
 BARSTABY BUDGE. 177 
 
 " I do not understand your meaning, sir." 
 
 "My meaning, Ned, is obvious — I observe 
 another fly in the cream-jug, but have the goodness 
 not to take it out, as you did the first, for their 
 walk, when their legs are milky, is extremely un- 
 graceful and disagreeable — my meaning is, that 
 you must do as I did ; that you must marry well, 
 and make the most of yourself." 
 
 " A mere fortune-hunter ! " cried the son indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " What in the devil's name, Ned, wotild you be ? " 
 returned the father. " All men are fortune-hunters, 
 are they not ? The law, the church, the court, the 
 camp — see how they are all crowded with fortune- 
 hunters, jostling each other in the pursuit. The 
 Stock Exchange, the pulpit, the counting-house, the 
 royal drawing-room, the Senate, — what but fortune- 
 hunters are they filled with ? A fortune-hunter ! 
 Yes. You are one ; and you would be nothing else, 
 my dear Ned, if you were the greatest courtier, 
 lawyer, legislator, prelate, or merchant in existence. 
 If you are squeamish and moral, Ned, console your- 
 self with the reflection that at the worst your for- 
 tune-hunting can make but one person miserable, 
 or unhappy. How many people do you suppose 
 these other kinds of huntsmen crush in following 
 their sport — hundreds at a step ? Or thousands ? " 
 
 The young man leant his head upon his hand, 
 and made no answer. 
 
 "I am quite charmed," said the father, rising, 
 and walking slowly to and fro — stopping now and 
 then to glance at himself in a mirror, or survey a 
 picture through his glass with the air of a connois- 
 seur, " that we have had this conversation, Ned, un- 
 
 VOL. I.-12.
 
 178 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 promising as it was. It establishes a confidence 
 between us which is quite delightful, and was cer- 
 tainly necessary, though how you can ever have 
 mistaken our position and designs, I confess I can- 
 not understand. I conceived, until I found your 
 fancy for this girl, that all these points were tacitly 
 agreed upon between us." 
 
 " I knew you were embarrassed, sir," returned 
 the son, raising his head for a moment, and then 
 falling into his former attitude, " but I had no idea 
 we were the beggared wretches you describe. How 
 could I suppose it, bred as I have been ; witnessing 
 the life you have always led ; and the appearance 
 you have always made ? " 
 
 " My dear child," said the father — " for you 
 really talk so like a child that I must call you one 
 — you were bred upon a careful principle ; the very 
 manner of your education, I assure you, maintained 
 my credit surprisingly. As to the life I lead, I 
 must lead it, Ned. I must have these little refine- 
 ments about me. I have always been used to them, 
 and I cannot exist without them. They must sur- 
 round me, you observe, and therefore they are here. 
 With regard to our circumstances, Ned, you may set 
 your mind at rest upon that score. They are desper- 
 ate. Your own appearance is by no means despic- 
 able, and our joint pocket money alone devours our 
 income. That's the truth." 
 
 " Why have I never known this before ? Why 
 have you encouraged me, sir, to an expenditure and 
 mode of life to which we have no right or title ? " 
 
 " My good fellow," returned his father, more com- 
 passionately than ever, " if you made no appearance, 
 how could you possibly succeed in the pursuit for
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 179 
 
 which I destined you ? As to our mode of life, 
 every man has a right to live in the best way he 
 can ; and to make himself as comfortable as he can, 
 or he is an unnatural scoundrel. Our debts, I grant, 
 are very great, and therefore it the more behooves 
 you, as a young man of principle and honor, to pay 
 them off as speedily as possible." 
 
 " The villain's part," muttered Edward, " that I 
 have unconsciously played ! I to win the heart of 
 Emma Haredale ! I would, for her sake, I had died 
 first ! " 
 
 "I am glad you see, Ned," retui-ned his father, 
 "how perfectly self-evident it is that nothing can 
 be done in that quarter. But apart from this, and 
 the necessity of your speedily bestowing yourself in 
 another (as you know you could to-morrow, if you 
 chose), I wish you would look upon it pleasantly. 
 In a religious point of view alone, how could you 
 ever think of uniting yourself to a Catholic, unless 
 she was amazingly rich ? You who ought to be so 
 very Protestant, coming of such a Protestant family 
 as you do. Let us be moral, Ned, or we are nothing. 
 Even if one could set that objection aside, which is 
 impossible, we come to another which is quite con- 
 clusive. The very idea of marrying a girl whose 
 father was killed, like meat ! Good God, Ned, how 
 disagreeable ! Consider the impossibility of having 
 any respect for your father-in-law under such un- 
 pleasant circumstances — think of his having been 
 ' viewed ' by jurors, and ' sat upon ' by coroners, and 
 of his very doubtful position in the family ever after- 
 wards. It seems to me such an indelicate sort of 
 thing, that I really think the girl ought to have 
 been put to death by the state to prevent its hap-
 
 180 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 pening. But I tease you perhaps. You would 
 rather be alone. My dear Ned, most willingly. 
 God bless you ! I shall be going out presently, 
 but we shall meet to-night, or, if not to-night, 
 certainly to-morrow. Take care of yourself in the 
 mean time for both our sakes. You are a person of 
 great consequence to me, Ned — of vast consequence 
 indeed. God bless you ! " 
 
 With these words, the father, who had been ar- 
 ranging his cravat in the glass while he uttered 
 them in a disconnected careless manner, withdrew, 
 humming a tune as he went. The son, who had 
 appeared so lost in thought as not to hear or under- 
 stand them, remained quite still and silent. After 
 the lapse of half an hour or so, the elder Chester, 
 gayly dressed, went out. The younger still sat with 
 his head resting on his hands, in what appeared to 
 be a kind of stupor.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A series of pictures representing the streets of 
 London in the night, even at the comparatively 
 recent date of this tale, would present to the eye 
 something so very different in character from the 
 reality which is witnessed in these times, that it 
 would be difficult for the beholder to recognize his 
 most familiar walks in the altered aspect of little 
 more than half a century ago. 
 
 They were, one and all, from the broadest and 
 best to the narrowest and least frequented, very 
 dark. The oil and cotton lamps, though regularly 
 trimmed twice or thrice in the long winter nights, 
 burnt feebly at the best : and at a late hour, when 
 they were unassisted by the lamps and candles in 
 the shops, cast but a narrow track of doubtful light 
 upon the footway, leaving the projecting doors and 
 house-fronts in the deepest gloom. Many of the 
 courts and lanes were left in total darkness ; those 
 of the meaner sort, where one glimmering light 
 twinkled for a score of houses, being favored in no 
 slight degree. Even in these places the inhabitants 
 had often good reason for extinguishing their lamp 
 as soon as it was lighted; and the watch being 
 utterly inefficient and powerless to prevent them, 
 they did so at their pleasure. Thus, in the lightest 
 
 181
 
 182 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 thoroughfares, there was at every turn some obscure 
 and dangerous spot whither a thief might fly for 
 shelter, and few would care to follow ; and the 
 City being belted round by fields, green lanes, 
 waste grounds, and lonely roads, dividing it at 
 that time from the suburbs that have joined it 
 since, escape, even when the pursuit was hot, was 
 rendered easy. 
 
 It is no wonder that, with these favoring circum- 
 stances in full and constant operation, street rob- 
 beries, often accompanied by cruel wounds, and not 
 unfrequently by loss of life, should have been of 
 nightly occurrence in the very heart of London, or 
 that quiet folks should have had great dread of 
 traversing its streets after the shops were closed. 
 It was not unusual, for those who wended home 
 alone at midnight, to keep the middle of the road, 
 the better to guard against surprise from lurking 
 footpads ; few would venture to repair at a late 
 hour to Kentish Town or Hampstead, or even to 
 Kensington or Chelsea, unarmed and unattended; 
 while he who had been loudest and most valiant at 
 the supper-table or the tavern, and had but a mile 
 or so to go, was glad to fee a link-boy to escort him 
 home. 
 
 There were many other characteristics — not quite 
 so disagreeable — about the thoroughfares of Lon- 
 don then, with which they had been long familiar. 
 Some of the shops, especially those to the eastward 
 of Tern i ile Bar, still adhered to the old practice of 
 hanging out a sign; and the creaking and swinging 
 of these boards in their iron frames, on windy nights, 
 formed a strange and mournful concert for the ears 
 of those who lay awake in bed or hurried through
 
 l
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 183 
 
 the streets. Long stands of hackney chairs and 
 groups of chairmen, compared with whom the 
 coachmen of our day are gentle and polite, ob- 
 structed the way and filled the air with clamor; 
 night-cellars, indicated by a little stream of light 
 crossing the pavement, and stretching out half-way 
 into the road, and by the stifled roar of voices from 
 below, yawned for the reception and entertainment 
 of the most abandoned of both sexes ; under every 
 shed and bulk small groups of link-boys gamed 
 away the earnings of the day ; or one more weary 
 than the rest gave way to sleep, and let the frag- 
 ment of his torch fall hissing on the puddled 
 ground. 
 
 Then there was the watch, with staff and lantern, 
 crying the hour and the kind of weather ; and those 
 who woke up at his voice, and turned them round in 
 bed, were glad to hear it rained, or snowed, or blew, 
 or froze, for very comfort's sake. The solitary pas- 
 senger was startled by the chairmen's cry of " By 
 your leave there ! " as two came trotting past him 
 with their empty vehicle — carried backwards to 
 show its being disengaged — and hurried to the 
 nearest stand. Many a private chair too, enclos- 
 ing some fine lady, monstrously hooped and furbe- 
 lowed, and preceded by running footmen bearing 
 flambeaux — for which extinguishers are yet sus- 
 pended before the doors of a few houses of the 
 better sort — made the way gay and light as it 
 danced along, and darker and more dismal when 
 it had passed. It was not unusual for these run- 
 ning gentry, who carried it with a very high hand, 
 to quarrel in the servants' hall while waiting for 
 their masters and mistresses ; and, falling to blows
 
 184 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 either there or in the street without, to strew the 
 place of skirmish with hair-powder, fragments of 
 bag-wigs, and scattered nosegays. Gaming, the 
 vice which ran so high among all classes (the 
 fashion being, of course, set by the upper), was 
 generally the cause of those disputes ; for cards 
 and dice were as openly used, and worked as much 
 mischief, and yielded as much excitement below- 
 stairs as above. While incidents like these, arising 
 out of drums and masquerades and parties at qua- 
 drille, were passing at the West-end of the town, 
 heavy stage-coaches and scarce heavier wagons were 
 lumbering slowly towards the City, the coachman, 
 guard, and passengers armed to the teeth, and 
 the coach — a day or so, perhaps, behind its time, 
 but that was nothing — despoiled by highwaymen ; 
 who made no scruple to attack, alone and single- 
 handed, a whole caravan of goods and men, and 
 sometimes shot a passenger or two, and were some- 
 times shot themselves, just as the case might be. 
 On the morrow, rumors of this new act of daring 
 on the road yielded matter for a few hours' conver- 
 sation through the town, and a Public Progress of 
 some fine gentleman (half drunk) to Tyburn, dressed 
 in the newest fashion, and damning the ordinary 
 with unspeakable gallantry and grace, furnished to 
 the populace at once a pleasant excitement and a 
 wholesome and profound example. 
 
 Among all the dangerous characters who, in such 
 a state of society, prowled and skulked in the 
 metropolis at night, there was one man from whom 
 many as uncouth and fierce as he shrunk with an 
 involuntary dread. Who he was, or whence he 
 came, was a question often asked, but which none
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 185 
 
 could answer. His name was unknown, he had 
 never been seen until within eight days or there- 
 abouts, and was equally a stranger to the old ruf- 
 fians, upon whose haunts he ventured fearlessly, as 
 to the young. He could be no spy, for he never 
 removed his slouched hat to look about him, entered 
 into conversation with no man, heeded nothing that 
 passed, listened to no discourse, regarded nobody 
 that came or went. But so surely as the dead of 
 night set in, so surely this man was in the midst 
 of the loose concourse in the night-cellar where out- 
 casts of every grade resorted ; and there he sat till 
 morning. 
 
 He was not only a spectre at their licentious 
 feasts ; a something in the midst of their revelry 
 and riot that chilled and haunted them ; but out of 
 doors he was the same. Directly it was dark, he 
 was abroad — never in company with any one, but 
 always alone ; never lingering or loitering, but 
 always walking swiftly ; and looking (so they said 
 who had seen him) over his shoulder from time to 
 time, and, as he did so, quickening his pace. In the 
 fields, the lanes, the roads, in all quarters of the 
 town — east, west, north, and south — that man was 
 seen gliding on like a shadow. He was always hur- 
 rying away. Those who encountered him saw him 
 steal past, caught sight of the backward glance, and 
 so lost him in the darkness. 
 
 This constant restlessness and flitting to and fro 
 gave rise to strange stories. He was seen in such 
 distant and remote places, at times so nearly tallying 
 with each other, that some doubted whether there 
 were not two of them, or more — some, whether he 
 had not unearthly means of travelling from spot to
 
 186 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 spot. The footpad hiding in the ditch had marked 
 him passing like a ghost along its brink ; the vagrant 
 had met him on the dark high-road ; the beggar had 
 seen him panse upon the bridge to look down at the 
 water, and then sweep on again ; they who dealt in 
 bodies with the surgeons could swear he slept in 
 churchyards, and that they had beheld him glide 
 away among the tombs on their approach. And as 
 they told these stories to each other, one who had 
 looked about him would pull his neighbor by the 
 sleeve, and there he would be among them. 
 
 At last, one man — he was of those whose com- 
 merce lay among the graves — resolved to question 
 this strange companion. Next night, when he had 
 eat his poor meal voraciously (lie was accustomed to 
 do that, they had observed, as though he had no 
 other in the day), this fellow sat down at his elbow. 
 
 " A black night, master ! " 
 
 " It is a black night ! " 
 
 " Blacker than last, though that was pitchy, too. 
 Didn't I pass you near the turnpike in the Oxford 
 Road ? " 
 
 " It's like you may. I don't know." 
 
 "Come, come, master," cried the fellow, urged on 
 by the looks of his comrades, and slapping him on 
 the shoulder ; " be more companionable and commu- 
 nicative. Be more the gentleman in this good com- 
 pany. There are tales among us that you have sold 
 yourself to the devil, and I know not what." 
 
 •• We all have, have we not ? " returned the 
 stranger, looking up. " If we were fewer in number, 
 perhaps he would give better wages." 
 
 "It goes rather hard with you, indeed," said the 
 fellow, as the stranger disclosed his haggard un-
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 187 
 
 washed face and torn clothes. "What of that? 
 Be merry, master. A stave of a roaring song, 
 now — " 
 
 " Sing you, if you desire to hear one,'' replied the 
 other, shaking him roughly off ; " and don't touch 
 me if you're a prudent man ; I carry arms which go 
 off easily — they have done so before now — and 
 make it dangerous for strangers who don't know the 
 trick of them to lay hands upon me." 
 
 " Do you threaten ? " said the fellow. 
 
 "Yes," returned the other, rising and turning 
 upon him, and looking fiercely round as if in appre- 
 hension of a general attack. 
 
 His voice, and look, and bearing — all expressive 
 of the wildest recklessness and desperation — 
 daunted while they repelled the bystanders. Al- 
 though in a very different sphere of action now, 
 they were not without much of the effect they had 
 wrought at the Maypole Inn. 
 
 " I am what you all are, and live as you all do," 
 said the man sternly after a short silence. " I am in 
 hiding here like the rest, and, if we were surprised, 
 would perhaps do my part with the best of ye. If 
 it's my humor to be left to myself, let me have it. 
 Otherwise," — and here he swore a tremendous 
 oath, — " there'll be mischief done in this place, 
 though there are odds of a score against me." 
 
 A low murmur, having its origin perhaps in a 
 dread of the man and the mystery that surrounded 
 him, or perhaps in a sincere opinion, on the part of 
 some of those present, that it would be an incon- 
 venient precedent to meddle too curiously with a 
 gentleman's private affairs if he saw reason to con- 
 ceal them, warned the fellow who had occasioned
 
 188 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 this discussion that he had best pursue it no further. 
 After a short time the strange man lay down upon a 
 bench to sleep, and when they thought of him 
 again, they found that he was gone. 
 
 Next night, as soon as it was dark, he was abroad 
 again and traversing the streets ; he was before the 
 locksmith's house more thau once, but the family 
 were out, and it was close shut. This night he 
 crossed London Bridge and passed into Southwark. 
 As he glided down a by-street, a woman with a little 
 basket on her arm turned into it at the other end. 
 Directly he observed her, he sought the shelter of 
 an archway, and stood aside until she had passed. 
 Then he emerged cautiously from his hiding-place, 
 and followed. 
 
 She went into several shops to purchase various 
 kinds of household necessaries, and round every 
 place at which she stopped he hovered like her evil 
 spirit ; following her when she re-appeared. It was 
 nigh eleven o'clock, and the passengers in the streets 
 were thinning fast, when she turned, doubtless to go 
 home. The phantom still followed her. 
 
 She turned into the same by-street in which he 
 had seen her first, which, being free from shops, and 
 narrow, was extremely dark. She quickened her 
 pace here, as though distrustful of being stopped, 
 and robbed of such trifling property as she carried 
 with her. He crept along on the other side of the 
 road. Had she been gifted with the speed of wind, 
 it seemed as if his terrible shadow would have 
 tracked her down. 
 
 At length the widow — for she it was — reached 
 her own door, and, panting for breath, paused to 
 take the key from her basket. In a flush and glow
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 189 
 
 with the haste she had made, and the pleasure of 
 being safe at home, she stooped to draw it out when, 
 raising her head, she saw him standing silently be- 
 side her ; the apparition of a dream. 
 
 His hand was on her mouth, but that was need- 
 less, for her tongue clove to its roof, and her power 
 of utterance was gone. " I have been looking for 
 you many nights. Is the house empty ? Answer 
 me. Is any one inside ? " 
 
 She could only answer by a rattle in her throat. 
 
 " Make me a sign." 
 
 She seemed to indicate that there was no one 
 there. He took the key, unlocked the door, carried 
 her in, and secured it carefully behind them.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 It was a chilly night, and the fire in the widow's 
 parlor had burnt low. Her strange companion 
 placed her in a chair, and stooping down before the 
 half-extinguished ashes, raked them together and 
 fanned them with his hat. From time to time he 
 glanced at her over his shoulder, as though to assure 
 himself of her remaining quiet and making no 
 effort to depart ; and that done, busied himself 
 about the fire again. 
 
 It was not without reason that he took these 
 pains, for his dress was dank and drenched with 
 wet, his jaws rattled with cold, and he shivered 
 from head to foot. It had rained hard during the 
 previous night, and for some hours in the morning, 
 but since noon it had been fine. Wheresoever he 
 had passed the hours of darkness, his condition 
 sufficiently betokened that many of them had been 
 spent beneath the open sky. Besmeared with mire ; 
 his saturated clothes clinging with a damp embrace 
 about his limbs ; his beard unshaven, his face un- 
 washed, his meagre cheeks worn into deep hollows, 
 — a more miserable wretch could hardly be than 
 this man who now cowered down upon the widow's 
 hearth, and watched the struggling flame with 
 bloodshot eyes. 
 
 190
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 191 
 
 She had covered her face with her hands, fearing, 
 as it seemed, to look towards him. So they remained 
 for some short time in silence. Glancing round 
 again, he asked at length, — 
 
 " Is this your house ? " 
 
 " It is. Why, in the name of Heaven, do you 
 darken it ? " 
 
 " Give me meat and drink," he answered sullenly, 
 " or I dare do more than that. The very marrow in 
 my bones is cold with wet and hunger. I must have 
 warmth and food, and I will have them here." 
 
 " You were the robber on the Chigwell Road." 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " And nearly a murderer then." 
 
 " The will was not wanting. There was one came 
 upon me and raised the hue and cry, that it would 
 have gone hard with, but for his nimbleness. I 
 made a thrust at him." 
 
 " You thrust your sword at him ! " cried the 
 widow, looking upwards. " You hear this man ! 
 you hear and saw ! ' ' 
 
 He looked at her, as, with her head thrown back, 
 and her hands tight clenched together, she uttered 
 these words in an agony of appeal. Then, starting 
 to his feet as she had done, he advanced towards 
 her. 
 
 " Beware ! " she cried in a suppressed voice, whose 
 firmness stopped him midway. " Do not so much 
 as touch me with a finger, or you are lost ; body and 
 soul you are lost." 
 
 " Hear me," he replied, menacing her with his 
 hand. " I, that in the form of a man live the life 
 of a hunted beast ; that in the body am a spirit, a 
 ghost upon the earth, a thing from which all crea-
 
 192 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 tures shrink, save those cursed beings of another 
 world who will not leave me ; — I am, in my des- 
 peration of this night, past all fear but that of the 
 hell in which I exist from day to day. Give the 
 alarm, cry out, refuse to shelter me. I will not 
 hurt you. But I will not be taken alive ; and so 
 surely as. you threaten me above your breath, I fall 
 a dead man on this floor. The blood with which I 
 sprinkle it be on you and yours, in the name of the 
 Evil Spirit that tempts men to their ruin ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he took a pistol from his breast, and 
 firmly clutched it in his hand. 
 
 " Remove this man from me, good Heaven ! " 
 cried the widow. " In thy grace and mercy, give 
 him one minute's penitence, and strike him dead ! " 
 
 " It has no such purpose," he said, confronting 
 her. " It is deaf. Give me to eat and drink, lest I 
 do that it cannot help my doing, and will not do for 
 you." 
 
 " Will you leave me if I do thus much ? Will 
 you leave me and return no more ? " 
 
 " I will promise nothing," he rejoined, seating 
 himself at the table, " nothing but this — I will 
 execute my threat if you betray me." 
 
 She rose at length, and going to a closet or pantry 
 in the room, brought out some fragments of cold 
 meat and bread, and put them on the table. He 
 asked for brandy and for water. These she pro- 
 duced likewise ; and he ate and drank with the 
 voracity of a famished hound. All the time he was 
 so engaged she kept at the uttermost distance of the 
 chamber, and sat there shuddering, but with her 
 face towards him. She never turned her back upon 
 him once ; aud although, when she passed him (as
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 193 
 
 she was obliged to do in going to and from the cup- 
 board), she gathered the skirts of her garment about 
 her, as if even its touching his by chance were horri- 
 ble to think of, still, in the midst of all this dread 
 and terror, she kept her face directed to his own, and 
 watched his every movement. 
 
 His repast ended — if that can be called one which 
 was a mere ravenous satisfying of the calls of hun- 
 ger — he moved his chair towards the tire again, and 
 warming himself before the blaze which had now 
 sprung brightly up, accosted her once more. 
 
 " I am an outcast, to whom a roof above his head 
 is often an uncommon luxury, and the food a beggar 
 would reject is delicate fare. You live here at your 
 ease. Do you live alone ? " 
 
 " I do not," she made answer with an effort. 
 
 " Who dwells here besides ? " 
 
 " One — it is no matter who. You had best 
 begone, or he may find you here. "Why do you 
 linger ? " 
 
 " For warmth," he replied, spreading out his hands 
 before the fire. "For warmth. You are rich, 
 perhaps ? " 
 
 " Very," she said faintly. " Very rich. No doubt 
 I am very rich." 
 
 " At least you are not penniless. You have some 
 money. You were making purchases to-night." 
 
 " I have a little left. It is but a few shillings." 
 
 " Give me your purse. You had it in your hand 
 at the door. Give it to me." 
 
 She stepped to the table and laid it down. He 
 reached across, took it up, and told the contents into 
 his hand. As he was counting them, she listened 
 for a moment, and sprung towards him. 
 
 VOL. I.-13.
 
 194 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Take what there is, take all, take more if more 
 were there, but go before it is too late. I have 
 heard a wayward step without, I kuow full well. It 
 will return directly. Begone." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Do not stop to ask. I will not answer. Much 
 as I dread to touch you, I would drag you to the 
 door if I possessed the strength, rather than you 
 should lose an instant. Miserable wretch ! fly from 
 this place." 
 
 "If there are spies without, I am safer here," 
 replied the man, standing aghast. " I will remain 
 here, and will not fly till the danger is past." 
 
 " It is too late ! " cried the widow, who had 
 listened for the step, and not to him. "Hark to 
 that foot upon the ground. Do you tremble to hear 
 it ? It is my son, my idiot son ! " 
 
 As she said this wildly, there came a heavy knock- 
 ing at the door. He looked at her, and she at him. 
 
 " Let him come in," said the man hoarsely. " I 
 fear him less than the dark, houseless night. He 
 knocks again. Let him come in ! " 
 
 "The dread of this hour," returned the widow, 
 " has been upon me all my life, and I will not. Evil 
 will fall upon him, if you stand eye to eye. My 
 blighted boy ! Oh ! all good angels who know the 
 truth, hear a poor mother's prayer, and spare my boy 
 from knowledge of this man ! " 
 
 "He rattles at the shutters!" cried the man. 
 " He calls you. That voice and cry ! It was he 
 who grappled with me in the road. Was it he ? " 
 
 She had sunk upon her knees, and so knelt down, 
 moving her lips, but uttering no sound. As he 
 gazed upon her, uncertain what to do or where to
 
 BAKNABY RUDGE. 195 
 
 turn, the shutters flew open. He had barely time to 
 catch a knife from the table, sheath it in the loose 
 sleeve of his coat, hide in the closet, and do all with 
 a lightning's speed, when Barnaby tapped at the 
 bare glass, and raised the sash exultingly. 
 
 " Why, who can keep out Grip and me ? " he 
 cried, thrusting in his head, and staring round the 
 room. " Are you there, mother ? How long you 
 keep us from the fire and light ! " 
 
 She stammered some excuse, and tendered him 
 her hand. But Barnaby sprung lightly in without 
 assistance, and putting his arms about her neck, 
 kissed her a hundred times. 
 
 "We have been afield, mother — leaping ditches, 
 scrambling through hedges, running down steep 
 banks, up and away, and hurrying on. The wind 
 has been blowing, and the rushes and young plants 
 bowing and bending to it, lest it should do them 
 harm, the cowards — and Grip — ha, ha, ha ! — 
 brave Grip, who cares for nothing, and when the 
 wind rolls him over in the dust, turns manfully to 
 bite it — Grip, bold Grip, has quarrelled with every 
 little bowing twig — thinking, he told me, that it 
 mocked him — and has worried it like a bulldog. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 The raven, in his little basket at his master's back, 
 hearing this frequent mention of his name in a tone 
 of exultation, expressed his sympathy by crowing 
 like a cock, and afterwards running over his various 
 phrases of speech with such rapidity, and in so 
 many varieties of hoarseness, that they sounded 
 like the murmurs of a crowd of people. 
 
 " He takes such care of me, besides ! " said 
 Barnaby. " Such care, mother ! He watches all the
 
 196 BARNABY KUDGE. 
 
 time I sleep, and when I shut my eyes and make 
 believe to slumber, he practises new learning softly ; 
 but he keeps his eye on me the while, and if he 
 sees me laugh, though never so little, stops directly. 
 He won't surprise me till he's perfect." 
 
 The raven crowed again in a rapturous manner 
 which plainly said, " Those are certainly some of 
 my characteristics, and I glory in them." In the 
 mean time, Barnaby closed the window and secured 
 it, and coming to the fireplace, prepared to sit down 
 with his face to the closet. But his mother pre- 
 vented this by hastily taking that side herself, and 
 motioning him towards the other. 
 
 " How pale you are to-night ! " said Barnaby, 
 leaning on his stick. " We have been cruel, Grip, 
 and made her anxious." 
 
 Anxious in good truth, and sick at heart ! The 
 listener held the door of his hiding-place open with 
 his hand, and closely watched her son. Grip — 
 alive to everything his master was unconscious of — 
 had his head out of the basket, and, in return, was 
 watching him intently with his glistening eye. 
 
 " He flaps his wings," said Barnaby, turning 
 almost quickly enough to catch the retreating form 
 and closing door, " as if there were strangers here ; 
 but Grip is wiser than to fancy that. Jump then ! " 
 
 Accepting this invitation with a dignity peculiar 
 to himself, the bird hopped up on his master's 
 shoulder, from that to his extended hand, and so to 
 the ground. Barnaby unstrapping the basket, and 
 putting it down in a corner with the lid open, Grip's 
 first care was to shut it down with all possible de- 
 spatch, and then to stand upon it. Believing, no 
 doubt, that he had now rendered it utterly impossible,
 
 'S\
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 197 
 
 and beyond the power of mortal man, to shut him 
 up in it any more, he drew a great many corks in 
 triumph, and uttered a corresponding number of 
 hurrahs. 
 
 " Mother ! " said Barnaby, laying aside his hat and 
 stick, and returning to the chair from which he had 
 risen, " I'll tell you where we have been to-day, and 
 what we have been doing, — shall I ? " 
 
 She took his hand in hers, and holding it, nodded 
 the word she could not speak. 
 
 "You mustn't tell," said Barnaby, holding up his 
 finger, "for it's a secret, mind, and only known to 
 me, and Grip, and Hugh. We had the dog with us, 
 but he's not like Grip, clever as he is, and doesn't 
 guess it yet, I'll wager. — Why do you look behind 
 me so ? " 
 
 " Did I ? " she answered faintly. " I didn't know 
 I did. Come nearer me." 
 
 " You are frightened ! " said Barnaby, changing 
 color. " Mother — you don't see — " 
 
 " See what ? " 
 
 " There's — there's none of this about, is there ? " 
 he answered in a whisper, drawing closer to her, 
 and clasping the mark upon his wrist. " I am 
 afraid there is, somewhere. You make my hair 
 stand on end, and my flesh creep. Why do you 
 look like that ? Is it in the room as I have seen it 
 in my dreams, dashing the ceiling and the walls with 
 red ? Tell me. Is it ? " 
 
 He fell into a shivering fit as he put the question, 
 and shutting out the light with his hands, sat 
 shaking in every limb until it had passed away. 
 After a time he raised his head and looked about 
 him.
 
 198 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 " Is it gone ? " 
 
 "There has been nothing here," rejoined his 
 mother, soothing him. "Nothing indeed, dear Bar- 
 naby. Look ! You see that there are but you 
 and me." 
 
 He gazed at her vacantly, and, becoming re-assured 
 by degrees, burst into a wild laugh. 
 
 " But let us see," he said thoughtfully. " Were 
 we talking ? Was it you and me ? Where have we 
 been ? " 
 
 " Nowhere but here." 
 
 " Ay, but Hugh, and I," said Barnaby, — " that's 
 it. Maypole Hugh, and I, you know, and Grip — 
 we have been lying in the forest, and among the 
 trees by the roadside, with a dark-lantern after 
 night came on, and the dog in a noose ready to slip 
 him when the man came by." 
 
 " What man ? " 
 
 " The robber ; him that the stars winked at. We 
 have waited for him after dark these many nights, 
 and we shall have him. I'd know him in a thou- 
 sand. Mother, see here! This is the man. Look!" 
 
 He twisted his handkerchief round his head, 
 pulled his hat upon his brow, wrapped his coat 
 about him, and stood up before her : so like the 
 original he counterfeited, that the dark figure 
 peering out behind him might have passed for his 
 own shadow. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! We shall have him," he cried, 
 ridding himself of the semblance as hastily as he 
 had assumed it. " You shall see him, mother, bound 
 hand and foot, and brought to London at a saddle- 
 girth ; and you shall hear of him at Tyburn Tree if 
 we have luck. So Hugh says. You're pale again,
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 199 
 
 and trembling. And why do you look behind me 
 so?" 
 
 " It is nothing," she answered. " I am not quite 
 well. Go you to bed, dear, and leave me here." 
 
 " To bed ! " he answered. " I don't like bed. I 
 like to lie before the fire, watching the prospects in 
 the burning coals — the rivers, hills, and dells, 
 in the deep, red sunset, and the wild faces. I am 
 hungry, too, and Grip has eaten nothing since 
 broad noon. Let us to supper. Grip ! To supper, 
 lad ! " 
 
 The raven flapped his wings, and, croaking his 
 satisfaction, hopped to the feet of his master, and 
 there held his bill open, ready for snapping up such 
 lumps of meat as he should throw him. Of these 
 he received about a score in rapid succession without 
 the smallest discomposure. 
 
 "That's all," said Barnaby. 
 
 " More ! " cried Grip. " More ! " 
 
 But it appearing for a certainty that no more was 
 to be had, he retreated with his store ; and disgor- 
 ging the morsels one by one from his pouch, hid 
 them in various corners — taking particular care, 
 however, to avoid the closet, as being doubtful of 
 the hidden man's propensities and power of resist- 
 ing temptation. When he had concluded these 
 arrangements, he took a turn or two across the room 
 with an elaborate assumption of having nothing on 
 his mind (but with one eye hard upon his treasure 
 all the time), and then, and not till then, began to 
 drag it out piece by piece, and eat it with the utmost 
 relish. 
 
 Barnaby, for his part, having pressed his mother to 
 eat in vain, made a hearty supper too. Once, during
 
 200 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 the progress of his meal, he wanted more bread 
 from the closet, and rose to get it. She hurriedly 
 interposed to prevent him, and summoning her 
 utmost fortitude, passed into the recess, and brought 
 it out herself. 
 
 " Mother," said Barnaby, looking at her stead- 
 fastly as she sat down beside him, after doing so ; 
 " is to-day my birthday ? " 
 
 " To-day ! " she answered. " Don't you recollect 
 it was but a week or so ago, and that summer, 
 autumn, and winter have to pass before it comes 
 again ? " 
 
 " I remember that it has been so till now," said 
 Barnaby. " But I think to-day must be my birthday 
 too, for all that." 
 
 She asked him why. " I'll tell you why," he said. 
 " I have always seen you — I didn't let you know it, 
 but I have — on the evening of that day grow very 
 sad. I have seen you cry when Grip and I were 
 most glad ; and look frightened with no reason ; and 
 I have touched your hand, and felt that it was cold 
 — as it is now. Once, mother (on a birthday that 
 was, also), Grip and I thought of this after we went 
 upstairs to bed, and when it was midnight, striking 
 one o'clock, we came down to your door to see if you 
 were well. You were on your knees. I forget what 
 it was you said. Grip, what was it we heard her 
 say that night ? " 
 
 " I'm a devil ! " rejoined the raven promptly. 
 
 " No, no," said Barnaby. " But you said some- 
 thing in a prayer ; and when you rose and walked 
 about, you looked (as you have done ever since, 
 mother, towards night on my birthday) just as you 
 do now. I have found that out, you see, though I
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 201 
 
 am silly. So I say you're wrong ; and this must be 
 my birthday — my birthday, Grip ! " 
 
 The bird received this information with a crow of 
 such duration as a cock, gifted with intelligence 
 beyond all others of his kind, might usher in the 
 longest day with. Then, as if he had well consid- 
 ered the sentiment, and regarded it as apposite to 
 birthdays, he cried, " Never say die ! " a great many 
 times, and flapped his wings for emphasis. 
 
 The widow tried to make light of Barnaby's 
 remark, and endeavored to divert his attention to 
 some new subject ; too easy a task at all times, as 
 she knew. His supper done, Barnaby, regardless of 
 her entreaties, stretched himself on the mat before 
 the fire ; Grip perched upon his leg, and divided his 
 time between dozing in the grateful warmth, and 
 endeavoring (as it presently appeared) to recall a 
 new accomplishment he had been studying all 
 day. 
 
 A long and profound silence ensued, broken only 
 by some change of position on the part of Barnaby, 
 whose eyes were still wide open and intently fixed 
 upon the fire ; or by an effort of recollection on the 
 part of Grip, who would cry in a low voice from 
 time to time, "Polly put the ket — " and there 
 stop short, forgetting the remainder, and go off in 
 a doze again. 
 
 After a long interval, Barnaby's breathing grew 
 more deep and regular, and his eyes were closed. 
 But even then the unquiet spirit of the raven inter- 
 posed. " Polly put the ket — " cried Grip, and his 
 master was broad awake again. 
 
 At length Barnaby slept soundly ; and the bird, 
 with his bill sunk upon his breast, his breast itself
 
 202 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 puffed out into a comfortable alderman-like form, 
 and his bright eye growing smaller and smaller, 
 really seemed to be subsiding into a state of repose. 
 Now and then he muttered in a sepulchral voice, 
 " Polly put the ket — " but very drowsily, and 
 more like a drunken man than a reflecting raven. 
 
 The widow, scarcely venturing to breathe, rose 
 from her seat. The man glided from the closet and 
 extinguished the candle. 
 
 » — tie on," cried Grip, suddenly struck with an 
 idea, and very much excited. " — tie on. Hurrah ! 
 Polly put the ket-tle on, we'll all have tea ; Polly 
 put the ket-tle on, we'll all have tea. Hurrah, hur- 
 rah, hurrah ! I'm a devil, I'm a devil, I'm a ket-tle 
 on, Keep up your spirits, Never say die, Bow, wow, 
 wow, I'm a devil, I'm a ket-tle, I'm a — Polly put 
 the ket-tle on, we'll all have tea." 
 
 They stood rooted to the ground, as though it had 
 been a voice from the grave. 
 
 But even this failed to awaken the sleeper. He 
 turned over towards the fire, his arm fell to the 
 ground, and his head drooped heavily upon it. The 
 widow and her unwelcome visitor gazed at him and 
 at each other for a moment, and then she motioned 
 him towards the door. 
 
 "Stay," he whispered. "You teach your son 
 
 well." ' 
 
 " I have taught him nothing that you heard to- 
 night. Depart instantly, or I will rouse him." 
 
 " You are free to do so. Shall / rouse him ? " 
 
 " You dare not do that." 
 
 "I dare do anything, I have told you. He 
 knows me well, it seems. At least I will know 
 him."
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 203 
 
 " Would you kill him in his sleep ? " cried the 
 widow, throwing herself between them. 
 
 " Woman," he returned between his teeth, as he 
 motioned her aside, " I would see him nearer, and I 
 will. If you want one of us to kill the other, wake 
 him." 
 
 With that he advanced, and bending down over 
 the prostrate form, softly turned back the head and 
 looked into the face. The light of the tire was 
 upon it, and its every lineament was revealed dis- 
 tinctly. He contemplated it for a brief space, and 
 hastily uprose. 
 
 " Observe," he whispered in the widow's ear. 
 " In him, of whose existence I was ignorant until 
 to-night, I have you in my power. Be careful how 
 you use me. Be careful how you use me. I am 
 destitute and starving, and a wanderer upon the 
 earth. I may take a sure and slow revenge." 
 
 " There is some dreadful meaning in your words. 
 I do not fathom it." 
 
 "There is a meaning in them, and I see you 
 fathom it to its very depth. You have anticipated 
 it for years ; you have told me as much. I leave 
 you to digest it. Do not forget my warning." 
 
 He pointed, as he left her, to the slumbering form, 
 and stealthily withdrawing, made his way into the 
 street. She fell on her knees beside the sleeper, 
 and remained like one stricken into stone, until the 
 tears which fear had frozen so long came tenderly 
 to her relief. 
 
 "O Thou," she cried, "who hast taught me such 
 deep love for this one remnant of the promise of a 
 happy life, out of whose affliction even perhaps the 
 comfort springs that he is ever a relying, loving
 
 204 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 child to me — never growing old or cold at heart, 
 but needing my care and duty in his manly strength 
 as in his cradle-time — help him, in his darkened 
 walk through this sad world, or he is doomed, and 
 my poor heart is broken ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Gliding along the silent streets, and holding his 
 course where they were darkest and most gloomy, 
 the man who had left the widow's house crossed 
 London Bridge, and arriving in the City, plunged 
 into the back-ways, lanes, and courts between Corn- 
 hill and Smithtield ; with no more fixedness of pur- 
 pose than to lose himself among their windings, 
 and baffle pursuit, if any one were dogging his 
 steps. 
 
 It was the dead time of the night, and all was 
 quiet. Now and then a drowsy watchman's foot- 
 steps sounded on the pavement, or the lamplighter 
 on his rounds went flashing past, leaving behind a 
 little track of smoke mingled with glowing morsels 
 of his hot red link. He hid himself even from 
 these partakers of his lonely walk, and shrinking 
 in some arch or doorway while they passed, issued 
 forth again when they were gone, and so pursued 
 his solitary way. 
 
 To be shelterless and alone in the open country, 
 hearing the wind moan, and watching for day 
 through the whole long weary night ; to listen to 
 the falling rain, and crouch for warmth beneath the 
 lee of some old barn or rick, or in the hollow of a 
 tree ; are dismal things — but not so dismal as the 
 
 205
 
 206 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 wandering up and down where shelter is, and beds 
 and sleepers are by thousands, a houseless rejected 
 creature. To pace the echoing stones from hour to 
 hour, counting the dull chimes of the clocks ; to 
 watch the lights twinkling in chamber windows, to 
 think what happy forgetfulness each house shuts 
 in ; that here are children coiled together in their 
 beds, here youth, here age, here poverty, here 
 wealth, all equal in their sleep, and all at rest ; to 
 have nothing in common with the slumbering 
 world around, not even sleep, Heaven's gift to all 
 its creatures, and be akin to nothing but despair ; 
 to feel, by the wretched contrast with everything 
 on every hand, more utterly alone and cast away 
 than in a trackless desert ; this is a kind of 
 suffering on which the rivers of great cities close 
 full many a time, and which the solitude in crowds 
 alone awakens. 
 
 The miserable man paced up and down the streets 
 — so long, so wearisome, so like each other — and 
 often cast a wistful look towards the east, hoping 
 to see the first faint streaks of day. But obdurate 
 night had yet possession of the sky, and his dis- 
 turbed and restless walk found no relief. 
 
 One house in a back street was bright with the 
 cheerful glare of lights; there was the sound of 
 music in it, too, and the tread of dancers, and there 
 were cheerful voices, and many a burst of laughter. 
 To this place — to be near something that was 
 awake and glad — he returned again and again; and 
 more than one of those who left it when the merri- 
 ment was at its height, felt it a check upon their 
 mirthful mood to see him flitting to and fro like an 
 uneasy ghost. At last the guests departed one and
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 207 
 
 all ; and then the house was close shut up, and 
 became as dull and silent as the rest. 
 
 His wanderings brought him at one time to the 
 City jail. Instead of hastening from it as a place 
 of ill omen, and one he had cause to shun, he sat 
 down on some steps hard by, and resting his chin 
 upon his hand, gazed upon its rough and frowning 
 walls as though even they became a refuge in his 
 jaded eyes. He paced it round and round, came 
 back to the same spot, and sat down again. He did 
 this often, and once, with a hasty movement, 
 crossed to where some men were watching in the 
 prison lodge, and had his foot upon the steps as 
 though determined to accost them. But looking 
 round, he saw that the day began to break, and fail- 
 ing in his purpose, turned and fled. 
 
 He was soon in the quarter he had lately trav- 
 ersed, and pacing to and fro again as he had done 
 before. He was passing down a mean street, when 
 from an alley close at hand some shouts of revelry 
 arose, and there came straggling forth a dozen mad- 
 caps, whooping and calling to each other, who, pass- 
 ing noisily, took different ways and dispersed in 
 smaller groups. 
 
 Hoping that some low place of entertainment 
 which would afford him a safe refuge might be near 
 at hand, he turned into this court when they were 
 all gone, and looked about for a half-opened door, or 
 lighted window, or other indication of the place 
 whence they had come. It was so profoundly dark, 
 however, and so ill-favored, that he concluded they 
 had but turned up there, missing their way, and 
 were pouring out again when he observed them. 
 With this impression, and finding there was no
 
 208 BAENABT RUDGE. 
 
 outlet but that by which he had entered, he was 
 about to turn, when from a grating near his feet a 
 sudden stream of light appeared, and the sound of 
 talking came. He retreated into a doorway to see 
 who these talkers were, and to listen to them. 
 
 The light came to the level of the pavement as he 
 did this, and a man ascended, bearing in his hand 
 a torch. This figure unlocked and held open the 
 grating as for the passage of another, who presently 
 appeared, in the form of a young man of small 
 stature and uncommon self-importance, dressed in 
 an obsolete and very gaudy fashion. 
 
 "Good-night, noble captain," said he with the 
 torch. "Farewell, commander. Good luck, illus- 
 trious general ! " 
 
 In return to these compliments the other bade 
 him hold his tongue, and keep his noise to himself ; 
 and laid upon him many similar injunctions with 
 great fluency of speech and sternness of manner. 
 
 " Commend me, captain, to the stricken Miggs," 
 returned the torch-bearer in a lower voice. " My 
 captain flies at higher game than Miggses. Ha, ha, 
 ha ! My captain is an eagle, both as respects his 
 eye and soaring wings. My captain breaketh hearts 
 as other bachelors break eggs at breakfast." 
 
 " What a fool you are, Stagg ! " said Mr. Tapper- 
 tit, stepping on the pavement of the court, and 
 brushing from his legs the dust he had contracted 
 in his passage upward. 
 
 " His precious limbs ! " cried Stagg, clasping one 
 of his ankles. " Shall a Miggs aspire to these pro- 
 portions ? Xo, no, my captain. We will inveigle 
 ladies fair, and wed them in our secret cavern. We 
 will unite ourselves with blooming beauties, cap- 
 tain."

 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 209 
 
 " I'll tell you what, my buck," said Mr. Tappertit, 
 releasing his leg; "I'll trouble you not to take 
 liberties, and not to broach certain questions unless 
 certain questions are broached to you. Speak when 
 you're spoke to on particular subjects, and not 
 otherways. Hold the torch up till I've got to the 
 end of the court, and then kennel yourself, do you 
 hear ? " 
 
 " I hear you, noble captain." 
 
 " Obey, then," said Mr. Tappertit haughtily. 
 " Gentlemen, lead on ! " With which word of com- 
 mand (addressed to an imaginary staff or retinue) 
 he folded his arms, and walked with surpassing 
 dignity down the court. 
 
 His obsequious follower stood holding the torch 
 above his head, and then the observer saw for the 
 first time, from his place of concealment, that he was 
 blind. Some involuntary motion on his part caught 
 the quick ear of the blind man, before he was con- 
 scious of having moved an inch towards him, for he 
 turned suddenly and cried, " Who's there ? " 
 
 " A man," said the other, advancing. " A friend ! " 
 
 " A stranger ! " rejoined the blind man. " Strangers 
 are not my friends. What do you do there ? " 
 
 " I saw your company come out, and waited here 
 till they were gone ! I want a lodging." 
 
 " A lodging at this time ! " returned Stagg, point- 
 ing towards the dawn as though he saw it. " Do 
 you know the day is breaking ? " 
 
 " I know it," rejoined the other, " to my cost. I 
 have been traversing this iron-hearted town all 
 night." 
 
 "You had better traverse it again," said the 
 blind man, preparing to descend, " till you find 
 
 VOL. I.-14.
 
 210 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 some lodgings suitable to your taste. I don't let 
 any." 
 
 " Stay ! " cried the other, holding him by the 
 arm. 
 
 "I'll beat this light about that hangdog face of 
 yours (for hangdog it is, if it answers to your voice), 
 and rouse the neighborhood besides, if you detain 
 me," said the blind man. "Let me go. Do you 
 hear ? " 
 
 "Do you hear?" returned the other, chinking a 
 few shillings together, and hurriedly pressing them 
 into his hand. " I beg nothing of you. I will pay 
 for the shelter you give me. Death! Is it much 
 to ask of such as you? I have come from the 
 country, and desire to rest where there are none 
 to question me. I am faint, exhausted, worn out, 
 almost dead. Let me lie down, like a dog, before 
 your fire. I ask no more than that. If you would 
 be rid of me, I will depart to-morrow." 
 
 "If a gentleman has been unfortunate on the 
 road," muttered Stagg, yielding to the other, who, 
 pressing on him, had already gained a footing on 
 the steps — "and can pay for his accommoda- 
 tion—" 
 
 " I will pay you with all I have. I am just now 
 past the want of food, God knows, and wish but to 
 purchase shelter. What companions have you be- 
 low ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " Then fasten your grate there, and show me the 
 way. Quick." 
 
 The blind man complied after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, and they descended together. The dialogue 
 had passed as hurriedly as the words could be
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 211 
 
 spoken, and they stood in his wretched room before 
 he had had time to recover from his first surprise. 
 
 " May I see where that door leads to, and what is 
 beyond ? " said the man, glancing keenly round. 
 "You will not mind that ? " 
 
 " I will show you myself. Follow me, or go be- 
 fore. Take your choice." 
 
 He bade him lead the way, and, by the light of 
 the torch which his conductor held up for the pur- 
 pose, inspected all three cellars narrowly. Assured 
 that the blind man had spoken truth, and that he 
 lived there alone, the visitor returned with him to 
 the first, in which a fire was burning, and flung him- 
 self with a deep groan upon the ground before it. 
 
 His host pursued his usual occupation without 
 seeming to heed him any further. But directly he 
 fell asleep — and he noted his falling into a slumber 
 as readily as the keenest-sighted man could have 
 done — he knelt down beside him, and passed his 
 hand lightly but carefully over his face and person. 
 
 His sleep was checkered with starts and moans, 
 and sometimes with a muttered word or two. His 
 hands were clenched, his brow bent, and his mouth 
 firmly set. All this the blind man accurately 
 marked ; and as if his curiosity were strongly 
 awakened, and he had already some inkling of his 
 mystery, he sat watching him, if the expression may 
 be used, and listening until it was broad day.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Dolly Varden's pretty little head was yet bewil- 
 dered by various recollections of the party, and her 
 bright eyes were yet dazzled by a crowd of images, 
 dancing before them like motes in the sunbeams, 
 among which the effigy of one partner in particular 
 did especially figure, the same being a young coach- 
 maker (a master in his own right), who had given 
 her to understand, when he handed her into the 
 chair at parting, that it was his fixed resolve to 
 neglect his business from that time, and die slowly 
 for the love of her — Dolly's head, and eyes, and 
 thoughts, and seven senses, were all in a state of 
 flutter and confusion for which the party was ac- 
 countable, although it was now three days old, when, 
 as she was sitting listlessly at breakfast, reading all 
 manner of fortunes (that is to say, of married and 
 nourishing fortunes) in the grounds of her teacup, a 
 step was heard in the workshop, and Mr. Edward 
 Chester was descried through the glass door, stand- 
 ing among the rusty locks and keys, like love among 
 the roses — for which apt comparison the historian 
 may by no means take any credit to himself, the 
 same being the invention, in the sentimental mood, 
 of the chaste and modest Miggs, who, beholding 
 him from the door-steps she was then cleaning, did, 
 
 212
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 213 
 
 in her maiden meditation, give utterance to the 
 simile. 
 
 The locksmith, who happened at the moment to 
 have his eyes thrown upward and his head back- 
 ward in an intense communing with Toby, did not 
 see his visitor, until Mrs. Varden, more watchful 
 than the rest, had desired Sim Tappertit to open the 
 glass door and give him admission — from which 
 untoward circumstance the good lady argued (for 
 she could deduce a precious moral from the most 
 trifling event) that to take a draught of small ale in 
 the morning was to observe a pernicious, irreligious, 
 and Pagan custom, the relish whereof should be left 
 to swine and Satan, or at least to Popish persons, 
 and should be shunned by the righteous as a work 
 of sin and evil. She would no doubt have pursued 
 her admonition much farther, and would have 
 founded on it a long list of precious precepts of 
 inestimable value, but that the young gentleman 
 standing by in a somewhat uncomfortable and dis- 
 comfited manner while she read her spouse this 
 lecture, occasioned her to bring it to a premature 
 conclusion. 
 
 " I'm sure you'll excuse me, sir," said Mrs. Var- 
 den, rising and curtsying. "Varden is so very 
 thoughtless, and needs so much reminding — Sim, 
 bring a chair here." 
 
 Mr. Tappertit obeyed, with a flourish implying 
 that he did so under protest. 
 
 " And you can go, Sim," said the locksmith. 
 
 Mr. Tappertit obeyed again, still under protest; 
 and betaking himself to the workshop, began seri- 
 ously to fear that he might find it necessary to 
 poison his master before his time was out.
 
 214 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 In the mean time, Edward returned suitable 
 replies to Mrs. Varden's courtesies, and that lady- 
 brightened up very much ; so that when he accepted 
 a dish of tea from the fair hands of Dolly, she was 
 perfectly agreeable. 
 
 "I am sure if there's anything we can do, — 
 Varden or I, or Dolly either, — to serve you, sir, at 
 any time, you have only to say it, and it shall be 
 done," said Mrs. V. 
 
 u I am much obliged to you, I am sure," returned 
 Edward. " You encourage me to say that I have 
 come here now to beg your good offices." 
 
 Mrs. Varden was delighted beyond measure. 
 
 " It occurred to me that probably your fair daugh- 
 ter might be going to the Warren either to-day or 
 to-morrow," said Edward, glancing at Dolly ; " and 
 if so, and you will allow her to take charge of this 
 letter, ma'am, you will oblige me more than I can 
 tell you. The truth is, that while I am very anxious 
 it should reach its destination, I have particular 
 reasons for not trusting it to any other conveyance ; 
 so that, without your help, I am wholly at a loss." 
 
 " She was not going that way, sir, either to-day or 
 to-morrow, nor indeed all next week," the lady gra- 
 ciously rejoined, " but we shall be very glad to put 
 ourselves out of the way on your account, and if 
 you wish it, you may depend upon its going to-day. 
 You might suppose," said Mrs. Varden, frowning at 
 her husband, " from Varden's sitting there so glum 
 and silent, that he objected to this arrangement; 
 but you must not mind that, sir, if you please. It's 
 his way at home. Out of doors he can be cheerful 
 and talkative enough." 
 
 Now, the fact was that the unfortunate locksmith,
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 215 
 
 blessing his stars to find his helpmate in such good 
 humor, had been sitting with a beaming face, hear- 
 ing this discourse with a joy past all expression. 
 Wherefore this sudden attack quite took him by 
 surprise. 
 
 " My dear Martha — " he said. 
 
 "Oh yes, I dare say," interrupted Mrs. Varden 
 with a smile of mingled scorn and pleasantry. 
 " Very dear ! We all know that." 
 
 "No, but, my good soul," said Gabriel, "you are 
 quite mistaken. You are indeed. I was delighted 
 to find you so kind and ready. I waited, my dear, 
 anxiously, I assure you, to hear what you would 
 say." 
 
 " You waited anxiously," repeated Mrs. V. " Yes ! 
 Thank you, Varden. You waited, as you always do, 
 that I might bear the blame, if any came of it. 
 But I am used to it," said the lady with a kind of 
 solemn titter, " and that's my comfort." 
 
 " I give you my word, Martha — " said Gabriel. 
 
 " Let me give you my word, my dear," interposed 
 his wife with a Christian smile, "that such discus- 
 sions as these between married people are much 
 better left alone. Therefore, if you please, Varden, 
 we'll drop the subject. I have no wish to pursue 
 it. I could. I might say a great deal. But I 
 would rather not. Pray don't say any more." 
 
 "I don't want to say any more," rejoined the 
 goaded locksmith. 
 
 " Well, then, don't," said Mrs. Varden. 
 
 " Nor did I begin it, Martha," added the lock- 
 smith good-humoredly, " I must say that." 
 
 " You did not begin it, Varden ! " exclaimed his 
 wife, opening her eyes very wide, and looking round
 
 216 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 upon the company, as though she would say, You 
 hear this man! "You did not begin it, Varden! 
 But you shall not say I was out of temper. No, 
 you did not begin it, oh dear no, not you, my dear!" 
 
 " Well, well," said the locksmith. " That's set- 
 tled then." 
 
 " Oh yes," rejoined his wife, " quite. If you like 
 to say Dolly began it, my dear, I shall not contra- 
 dict you. I know my duty. I need know it, I am 
 sure. I am often obliged to bear it in mind, when 
 my inclination perhaps would be for the moment to 
 forget it. Thank you, Varden." And so, with a 
 mighty show of humility and forgiveness, she folded 
 her hands, and looked round again, with a smile 
 which plainly said, " If you desire to see the first 
 and foremost among female martyrs, here she is on 
 view ! " 
 
 This little incident, illustrative though it was of 
 Mrs. Varden's extraordinary sweetness and amiabil- 
 ity, had so strong a tendency to check the conversa- 
 tion and to disconcert all parties but that excellent 
 lady, that only a few monosyllables were uttered 
 until Edward withdrew; which he presently did, 
 thanking the lady of the house a great many times 
 for her condescension, and whispering in Dolly's ear 
 that he would call on the morrow, in case there 
 should happen to be an answer to the note — which, 
 indeed, she knew without his telling, as Barnaby 
 and his friend Grip had dropped in on the previous 
 night to prepare her for the visit which was then 
 terminating. 
 
 Gabriel, who had attended Edward to the door, 
 came back with his hands in his pockets ; and, after 
 fidgeting about the room in a very uneasy manner,
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 217 
 
 and casting a great many sidelong looks at Mrs. 
 Varden (who "with the calmest countenance in the 
 world was five fathoms deep in the Protestant Man- 
 ual), inquired of Dolly how she meant to go. Dolly 
 supposed by the stage-coach, and looked at her lady 
 mother, who, finding herself silently appealed to, 
 dived down at least another fathom into the Manual, 
 and became unconscious of all earthly things. 
 
 "Martha — " said the locksmith. 
 
 " I hear you, Varden," said his wife, without 
 rising to the surface. 
 
 "I am sorry, my dear, you have such an objection 
 to the Maypole and old John, for otherways as it's 
 a very fine morning, and Saturday's not a busy day 
 with us, we might have all three gone to Chigwell 
 in the chaise, and had quite a happy day of it." 
 
 Mrs. Varden immediately closed the Manual, and 
 bursting into tears, requested to be led upstairs. 
 
 "What is the matter now, Martha?" inquired 
 the locksmith. 
 
 To which Martha rejoined, " Oh ! don't speak to 
 me," and protested in agony that if anybody had 
 told her so, she wouldn't have believed it. 
 
 "But, Martha," said Gabriel, putting himself in 
 the way as she was moving off with the aid of 
 Dolly's shoulder, "wouldn't have believed what? 
 Tell me what's wrong now. Do tell me. Upon my 
 soul I don't know. Do you know, child ? Damme ! " 
 cried the locksmith, plucking at his wig in a kind 
 of frenzy, " nobody does know, I verily believe, but 
 Miggs ! " 
 
 "Miggs," said Mrs. Varden faintly, and with 
 symptoms of approaching incoherence, " is attached 
 to me, and that is sufficient to draw down hatred
 
 218 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 upon her in this house. She is a comfort to me, 
 whatever she may be to others." 
 
 " She's no comfort to me," cried Gabriel, made 
 bold by despair. " She is the misery of my life. 
 She's all the plagues of Egypt in one." 
 
 " She's considered so, I have no doubt," said Mrs. 
 Varden. " I was prepared for that ; it's natural ; 
 it's of a piece with the rest. When you taunt me as 
 you do to my face, how can I wonder that yc u u ,aunt 
 her behind her back ? " And here the incoherence 
 coming on very strong, Mrs. Varden wept, and 
 laughed, and sobbed, and shivered, and hiccoughed, 
 and choked ; and said she knew it was very foolish, 
 but she couldn't help it ; and that when she was 
 dead and gone, perhaps they would be sorry for it 
 — which really, under the circumstances, did not 
 appear quite so probable as she seemed to think — 
 with a great deal more to the same effect. In a 
 word, she passed with great decency through all the 
 ceremonies incidental to such occasions ; and being 
 supported upstairs, was deposited in a highly spas- 
 modic state on her own bed, where Miss Miggs 
 shortly afterwards flung herself upon the body. 
 
 The philosophy of all this was, that Mrs. Varden 
 wanted to go to Chigwell ; that she did not want to 
 make any concession or explanation ; that she 
 would only go on being implored and entreated so 
 to do ; and that she would accept no other terms. 
 Accordingly, after a vast amount of moaning and 
 crying upstairs, and much damping of foreheads, 
 and vinegaring of temples, and hartshorning of 
 noses, and so forth ; and after the most pathetic 
 adjurations from Miggs, assisted by warm brandy 
 and water not over-weak, and divers other cordials,
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 219 
 
 also of a stimulating quality, administered at first 
 in tea-spoonfuls and afterwards in increasing doses, 
 and of which Miss Miggs herself partook as a pre- 
 ventive measure (for fainting is infectious) ; after 
 all these remedies, and many more too numerous to 
 mention, but not to take, had been applied ; and 
 many verbal consolations, moral, religious, and mis- 
 cellaneous, had been superadded thereto ; the lock- 
 smith humbled himself, and the end was gained. 
 
 '• If it's only for the sake of peace and quietness, 
 father," said Dolly, urging him to go upstairs. 
 
 "Oh, Doll, Doll," said her good-natured father; 
 " if you ever have a husband of your own — " 
 
 Dolly glanced at the glass. 
 
 "Well, when you have," said the locksmith, 
 " never faint, my darling. More domestic unhappi- 
 ness has come of easy fainting, Doll, than from all 
 the greater passions put together. Kemember that, 
 my dear, if you would be really happy, which you 
 never can be if your husband isn't. And a word in 
 your ear, my precious. Never have a Miggs about 
 you ! " 
 
 With this advice he kissed his blooming daughter 
 on the cheek, and slowly repaired to Mrs. Yarden's 
 room ; where that lady, lying all pale and languid 
 on her couch, was refreshing herself with a sight of 
 her last new bonnet, which Miggs, as a means of 
 calming her scattered spirits, displayed to the best 
 advantage at her bedside. 
 
 " Here's master, mim," said Miggs. " Oh, what a 
 happiness it is when man and wife come round 
 again ! Oh gracious, to think that him and her 
 should ever have a word together ! " In the energy 
 of these sentiments, which were uttered as an apos-
 
 220 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 trophe to the Heavens in general, Miss Miggs 
 perched the bonnet on the top of her own head, and 
 folding her hands, turned on her tears. 
 
 "I can't help it," cried Miggs. "I couldn't, if I 
 was to be drownded in 'em. She has such a forgiv- 
 ing spirit ! She'll forget all that has passed, and go 
 along with you, sir. Oh, if it was to the world's 
 end, she'd go along with you." 
 
 Mrs. Varden with a faint smile gently reproved 
 her attendant for this enthusiasm, and reminded 
 her, at the same time, that she was far too unwell to 
 venture out that day. 
 
 " Oh no, you're not, mim, indeed you're not," said 
 Miggs. " I repeal to master ; master knows you're 
 not, mim. The hair, and motion of the shay, will 
 do you good, mim, and you must not give way, you 
 must not raly. She must keep up, mustn't she, sir, 
 for all our sakes ? I was a telling her that just 
 now. She must remember us, even if she forgets 
 herself. Master will persuade you, mim, I'm sure. 
 There's Miss Dolly's a-going, you know, and master, 
 and you, and all so happy and so comfortable. Oh ! " 
 cried Miggs, turning on the tears again, previous to 
 quitting the room in great emotion, "I never see 
 such a blessed one as she is for the forgiveness of 
 her spirit, I never, never, never did. Nor more did 
 master neither ; no, nor no one — never ! " 
 
 For five minutes, or thereabouts, Mrs. Varden re- 
 mained mildly opposed to all her husband's prayers 
 that she would oblige him by taking a day's pleas- 
 ure, but relenting at length, she suffered herself to 
 be persuaded, and granting him her free forgiveness 
 (the merit whereof, she meekly said, rested with the 
 Manual, and not with her), desired that Miggs might
 
 BARNABY EUDGE. 221 
 
 come and help her dress. The handmaid attended 
 promptly, and it is but justice to their joint exer- 
 tions to record that, when the good lady came down- 
 stairs in course of time, completely decked out for 
 the journey, she really looked as if nothing had 
 happened, and appeared in the very best health im- 
 aginable. 
 
 As to Dolly, there she was again, the very pink 
 and pattern of good looks, in a smart little cherry- 
 colored mantle with a hood of the same drawn over 
 her head, and, upon the top of that hood, a little straw 
 hat trimmed with cherry-colored ribbons, and worn 
 the merest trifle on one side — just enough, in short, 
 to make it the wickedest and most provoking head- 
 dress that ever malicious milliner devised. And not 
 to speak of the manner in which these cherry -colored 
 decorations brightened her eyes, or vied with her 
 lips, or shed a new bloom on her face, she wore such 
 a cruel little muff, and such a heartrending pair of 
 shoes, and was so surrounded and hemmed in, as it 
 were, by aggravations of all kinds, that when Mr. 
 Tappertit. holding the horse's head, saw her come 
 out of the house alone, such impulses came over him 
 to decoy her into the chaise and drive off like mad, 
 that he would unquestionably have done it, but for 
 certain uneasy doubts besetting him as to the short- 
 est way to Gretna Green ; whether it was up the 
 street or down, or up the right-hand turning or the 
 left; and whether, supposing all the turnpikes to 
 be carried by storm, the blacksmith in the end would 
 marry them on credit ; which, by reason of his cler- 
 ical office, appeared, even to his excited imagina- 
 tion, so unlikely, that he hesitated. And while he 
 stood hesitating, and looking post-chaises-and-six at
 
 222 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 Dolly, out came his master and his mistress, and 
 the constant Miggs, and the opportunity was gone 
 forever. For now the chaise creaked upon its 
 springs, and Mrs. Varden was inside ; and now it 
 creaked again, and more than ever, and the lock- 
 smith was inside ; and now it bounded once, as if its 
 heart beat lightly, and Dolly was inside ; and now 
 it was gone, and its place was empty, and he and 
 that dreary Miggs were standing in the street 
 together. 
 
 The hearty locksmith was in as good a humor as 
 if nothing had occurred for the last twelve months 
 to put him out of his way, Dolly was all smiles and 
 graces, and Mrs. Varden was agreeable beyond all 
 precedent. As they jogged through the streets 
 talking of this thing and of that, who should be 
 descried upon the pavement but that very coach- 
 maker, looking so genteel that nobody would have 
 believed he had ever had anything to do with a 
 coach but riding in it, and bowing like any noble- 
 man. To be sure Dolly was confused when she 
 bowed again, and to be sure the cherry-colored rib- 
 bons trembled a little when she met his mournful 
 eye, which seemed to say, " I have kept my word, I 
 have begun, the business is going to the devil, and 
 you are the cause of it." There he stood, rooted to 
 the ground : as Dolly said, like a statue ; and, as 
 Mrs. Varden said, like a pump : till they turned the 
 corner : and when her father thought it was like his 
 impudence, and her mother wondered what he meant 
 by it, Dolly blushed again till her very hood was 
 pale. 
 
 But on they went, not the less merrily for this, 
 and there was the locksmith, in the incautious ful-
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 223 
 
 ness of his heart, "pulling up" at all manner of 
 places, and evincing a most intimate acquaintance 
 with all the taverns on the road, and all the land- 
 lords and all the landladies, with whom, indeed, the 
 little horse was on equally friendly terms, for he 
 kept on stopping of his own accord. Never were 
 people so glad to see other people as these landlords 
 and landladies were to behold Mr. Varden and Mrs. 
 Varden and Miss Varden ; and wouldn't they get 
 out, said one ; and they really must walk upstairs, 
 said another; and she would take it ill, and be quite 
 certain they were proud, if they wouldn't have a 
 little taste of something, said a third; and so on, 
 that it really was quite a Progress rather than a 
 ride, and one continued scene of hospitality from 
 beginning to end. It was pleasant enough to be 
 held in such esteem, not to mention the refresh- 
 ments ; so Mrs. Varden said nothing at the time, 
 and was all affability and delight ; but such a body 
 of evidence as she collected against the unfortunate 
 locksmith that day, to be used thereafter as occasion 
 might require, never was got together for matrimo- 
 nial purposes. 
 
 In course of time — and in course of a pretty 
 long time too, for these agreeable interruptions 
 delayed them not a little — they arrived upon the 
 skirts of the Forest, and riding pleasantly on among 
 the trees, came at last to the Maypole, where the 
 locksmith's cheerful " Yoho ! " speedily brought to 
 the porch old John, and after him young Joe, both 
 of whom were so transfixed at sight of the ladies, 
 that for a moment they were perfectly unable to 
 give them any welcome, and could do nothing but 
 stare.
 
 224 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 It was only for a moment, however, that Joe for- 
 got himself, for, speedily reviving, he thrust his 
 drowsy father aside — to Mr. Willet's mighty and 
 inexpressible indignation — and darting out, stood 
 ready to help them to alight. It was necessary for 
 Dolly to get out first. Joe had her in his arms ; — 
 yes, though for a space of time no longer than you 
 could count one in, Joe had her in his arms. Here 
 was a glimpse of happiness ! 
 
 It would be difficult to describe what a flat and 
 commonplace affair the helping Mrs. Varden out 
 afterwards was, but Joe did it, and did it too with 
 the best grace in the world. Then old John, who, 
 entertaining a dull and foggy sort of idea that Mrs. 
 Varden wasn't fond of him, had been in some doubt 
 whether she might not have come for purposes of 
 assault and battery, took courage, hoped she was 
 well, and offered to conduct her into the house. 
 This tender being amicably received, they marched 
 in together; Joe and Dolly followed arm in arm 
 (happiness again !), and Varden brought up the rear. 
 
 Old John would have it that they must sit in the 
 bar, and nobody objecting, into the bar they went. 
 All bars are snug places, but the Maypole's was the 
 very snuggest, cosiest, and completest bar that ever 
 the wit of man devised. Such amazing bottles in 
 old oaken pigeon-holes ; such gleaming tankards 
 dangling from pegs at about the same inclination as 
 thirsty men would hold them to their lips ; such 
 sturdy little Dutch kegs ranged in rows on shelves ; 
 so many lemons hanging in separate nets, and form- 
 ing the fragrant grove already mentioned in this 
 chronicle, suggestive, with goodly loaves of snowy 
 sugar stowed away, hard by, of punch, idealized
 
 BAENABY RUDGE. 225 
 
 beyond all mortal knowledge; such closets, such 
 presses, such drawers full of pipes, such places for 
 putting things away in hollow window-seats, all 
 crammed to the throat with eatables, drinkables, or 
 savory condiments; lastly, and to crown all, as 
 typical of the immense resources of the establish- 
 ment, and its defiances to all visitors to cut and come 
 again, such a stupendous cheese ! 
 
 It is a poor heart that never rejoices — it must 
 have been the poorest, weakest, and most watery 
 heart that ever beat, which would not have warmed 
 towards the Maypole bar. Mrs. Varden's did 
 directly. She could no more have reproached John 
 Willet among those household gods, the kegs and 
 bottles, lemons, pipes, and cheese, than she could 
 have stabbed him with his own bright carving-knife. 
 The order for dinner, too — it might have soothed a 
 savage. "A bit of fish," said John to the cook, 
 "and some lamb chops (breaded, with plenty of 
 ketchup), and a good salad, and a roast spring 
 chicken, with a dish of sausages and mashed pota- 
 toes, or something of that sort." Something of that 
 sort ! The resources of these inns ! To talk care- 
 lessly about dishes, which in themselves were a first- 
 rate holiday kind of dinner, suitable to one's wedding 
 day, as something of that sort : meaning, if you 
 can't get a spring chicken, any other trifle in the 
 way of poultry will do — such as a peacock, per- 
 haps ! The kitchen, too, with its great broad cav- 
 ernous chimney ; the kitchen, where nothing in the 
 way of cookery seemed impossible ; where you could 
 believe in anything to eat they chose to tell you of. 
 Mrs. Varden returned from the contemplation of 
 these wonders to the bar again, with a head quite 
 
 VOL. I.-15.
 
 226 BAHNABY RTTDGE. 
 
 dizzy and bewildered. Her housekeeping capacity 
 was not large enough to comprehend them. She 
 was obliged to go to sleep. Waking was pain in the 
 midst of such immensity. 
 
 Dolly in the mean while, whose gay heart and 
 head ran upon other matters, passed out at the 
 garden door, and glancing back now and then (but 
 of course not wondering whether Joe saw her), 
 tripped away by a path across the fields with which 
 she was well acquainted, to discharge her mission at 
 the Warren ; and this deponent hath been informed, 
 and verily believes, that you might have seen many 
 less pleasant objects than the cherry-colored mantle 
 and ribbons as they went fluttering along the green 
 meadows in the bright light of the day, like giddy 
 things as they were.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The proud consciousness of her trust, and the 
 great importance she derived from it, might have 
 advertised it to all the house if she had had to run 
 the gantlet of its inhabitants ; but as Dolly had 
 played in every dull room and passage many and 
 many a time when a child, and had ever since been 
 the humble friend of Miss Haredale, whose foster- 
 sister she was, she was as free of the building as the 
 young lady herself. So, using no greater precaution 
 than holding her breath and walking on tiptoe as 
 she passed the library door, she went straight to 
 Emma's room as a privileged visitor. 
 
 It was the liveliest room in the building. The 
 chamber was sombre, like the rest for the matter of 
 that, but the presence of youth and beauty would 
 make a prison cheerful (saving, alas! that confine- 
 ment withers them), and lend some charms of their 
 own to the gloomiest scene. Birds, flowers, books, 
 drawing, music, and a hundred such graceful tokens 
 of feminine loves and cares, filled it with more of 
 life and human sympathy than the whole house 
 besides seemed made to hold. There was heart in 
 the room ; and who that has a heart ever fails to 
 recognize the silent presence of another ? 
 
 Dolly had one undoubtedly, and it was not a 
 
 227
 
 228 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 tough one either, though there was a little mist of 
 coquettishness about it, such as sometimes surrounds 
 that sun of life in its morning, and slightly dims its 
 lustre. Thus, when Emma rose to greet her, and, 
 kissing her affectionately on the cheek, told her, in 
 her quiet way, that she had been very unhappy, the 
 tears stood in Dolly's eyes, and she felt more sorry 
 than she could tell ; but next moment she happened 
 to raise them to the glass, and really there was 
 something there so exceedingly agreeable, that, as 
 she sighed, she smiled, and felt surprisingly con- 
 soled. 
 
 " I have heard about it, miss," said Dolly, " and 
 it's very sad indeed, but when things are at the 
 worst they are sure to mend." 
 
 " But are you sure they are at the worst ? " asked 
 Emma with a smile. 
 
 "Why, I don't see how they can very well be 
 more unpromising than they are ; I really don't," 
 said Dolly. " And I bring something to begin 
 with." 
 
 " Xot from Edward ? " 
 
 Dolly nodded and smiled, and feeling in her 
 pockets (there were pockets in those days) with 
 an affectation of not being able to find what she 
 wanted, which greatly enhanced her importance, at 
 length produced the letter. As Emma hastily broke 
 the seal and became absorbed in its contents, Dolly's 
 eyes, by one of those strange accidents for which 
 there is no accounting, wandered to the glass again. 
 She could not help wondering whether the coach- 
 maker suffered very much, and quite pitied the poor 
 man. 
 
 It was a long letter — a very long letter, written
 
 BATtNABY RUDGE. 229 
 
 close on all four sides of the sheet of paper, and 
 crossed afterwards ; but it was not a consolatory 
 letter, for, as Emma read it, she stopped from time 
 to time to put her handkerchief to her eyes. To be 
 sure Dolly marvelled greatly to see her in so much 
 distress, for, to her thinking, a love affair ought to 
 be one of the best jokes, and the slyest, merriest 
 kind of thing in life. But she set it down in her 
 own mind that all this came from Miss Haredale's 
 being so constant, and that if she would only take 
 on with some other young gentleman — just in the 
 most innocent way possible, to keep her first lover 
 up to the mark — she would find herself inexpres- 
 sibly comforted. 
 
 " I am sure that's what I should do if it was me," 
 thought Dolly. " To make one's sweethearts miser- 
 able is well enough, and quite right, but to be made 
 miserable one's self is a little too much ! " 
 
 However, it wouldn't do to say so, and therefore 
 she sat looking on in silence. She needed a pretty 
 considerable stretch of patience, for when the long 
 letter had been read once all through it was read 
 again, and when it had been read twice all through 
 it was read again. During this tedious process, 
 Dolly beguiled the time in the most improving 
 manner that occurred to her, by curling her hair 
 on her fingers, with the aid of the looking-glass 
 before mentioned, and giving it some killing twists. 
 
 Everything has an end. Even young ladies in 
 love cannot read their letters forever. In course 
 of time the packet was folded up, and it only 
 remained to write the answer. 
 
 But, as this promised to be a work of time like- 
 wise, Emma said she would put it off until after
 
 230 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 dinner, and that Dolly must dine with her. As 
 Dolly had made' up her mind to do so beforehand, 
 she required very little pressing; and when they 
 had settled this point, they went to walk in the 
 garden. 
 
 They strolled up and down the terrace walks, 
 talking incessantly — at least, Dolly never left off 
 once — and making that quarter of the sad and 
 mournful house quite gay. Not that they talked 
 loudly or laughed much, but they were both so 
 very handsome, and it was such a breezy day, and 
 their light dresses and dark curls appeared so free 
 and joyous in their abandonment, and Emma was so 
 fair, and Dolly so rosy, and Emma so delicately 
 shaped, and Dolly so plump, and — in short, there 
 are no flowers for any garden like such flowers, let 
 horticulturists say what they may, and both house 
 and garden seemed to know it, and to brighten up 
 sensibly. 
 
 After this came the dinner and the letter-writing, 
 and some more talking, in course of which Miss 
 Haredale took occasion to charge upon Dolly cer- 
 tain flirtish and inconstant propensities, which accu- 
 sations Dolly seemed to think very complimentary 
 indeed, and to be mightily amused with. Finding 
 her quite incorrigible in this respect, Emma suffered 
 her to depart; but not before she had confided to 
 her that important and never-sufficiently-to-be-taken- 
 care-of answer, and endowed her, moreover, with a 
 pretty little bracelet as a keepsake. Having clasped 
 it on her arm, and again advised her, half in jest and 
 half in earnest, to amend her roguish ways, for she 
 knew she was fond of Joe at heart (which Dolly 
 stoutly denied, with a great many haughty protesta-
 
 BARNABY RTTDGE. 231 
 
 tions that she hoped she could do better than that, 
 indeed ! and so forth), she bade her farewell ; and 
 after calling her back to give her more supplemen- 
 tary messages for Edward than anybody with ten- 
 fold the gravity of Dolly Varden could be reasonably 
 expected to remember, at length dismissed her. 
 
 Dolly bade her good-by, and tripping lightly down 
 the stairs, arrived at the dreaded library door, and 
 was about to pass it again on tiptoe, when it opened, 
 and behold ! there stood Mr. Haredale. Now, Dolly 
 had from her childhood associated with this gentle- 
 man the idea of something grim and ghostly, and 
 being at the moment conscience-stricken besides, 
 the sight of him threw her into such a flurry that 
 she could neither acknowledge his presence nor run 
 away, so she gave a great start, and then with down- 
 cast eyes stood still and trembled. 
 
 " Come here, girl," said Mr. Haredale, taking her 
 by the hand. " I want to speak to you." 
 
 "If you please, sir, I'm in a hurry," faltered 
 Dolly, " and — and you have frightened me by com- 
 ing so suddenly upon me, sir, — I would rather go, 
 sir, if you'll be so good as to let me." 
 
 "Immediately," said Mr. Haredale, who had by 
 this time led her into the room and closed the 
 door. " You shall go directly. You have just left 
 Emma?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, just this minute. — Father's waiting 
 for me, sir, if you'll please to have the good- 
 ness — " 
 
 " I know, I know," said Mr. Haredale. " Answer 
 me a question. What did you bring here to-day ? " 
 
 " Bring here, sir ? " faltered Dolly. 
 
 " You will tell me the truth, I am sure. Yes."
 
 232 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Dolly hesitated for a little while, and, somewhat 
 emboldened by his manner, said at last, " Well then, 
 sir, it was a letter." 
 
 " From Mr. Edward Chester, of course. And you 
 are the bearer of the .answer ? " 
 
 Dolly hesitated again, and not being able to decide 
 upon any other course of action, burst into tears. 
 
 " You alarm yourself without cause," said Mr. 
 Haredale. " Why are you so foolish ? Surely you 
 can answer me. You know that I have but to put 
 the question to Emma, and learn the truth directly. 
 Have you the answer with you ? " 
 
 Dolly had what is popularly called a spirit of her 
 own, and, being now fairly at bay, made the best 
 of it. 
 
 "Yes, sir," she rejoined, trembling and frightened 
 as she was. " Yes, sir, I have. You may kill me if 
 you please, sir, but I won't give it up. I'm very 
 sorry, — but I won't. There, sir." 
 
 h I commend your firmness and your plain speak- 
 ing," said Mr. Haredale. " Rest assured that I have 
 as little desire to take your letter as your life. You 
 are a very discreet messenger and a good girl." 
 
 Not feeling quite certain, as she afterwards said, 
 whether he might not be " coming over her " with 
 these compliments, Dolly kept as far from him as 
 she could, cried again, and resolved to defend her 
 pocket (for the letter was there) to the last ex- 
 tremity. 
 
 " I have some design," said Mr. Haredale after a 
 short silence, during which a smile, as he regarded 
 her, had struggled through the gloom and melan- 
 choly that was natural to his face, " of providing a 
 companion for my niece ; for her life is a very lonely
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 233 
 
 one. Would you like the office ? You are the old- 
 est friend she has, and the best entitled to it." 
 
 " I don't know, sir," answered Dolly, not sure but 
 he was bantering her ; " I can't say. I don't know 
 what they might wish at home. I couldn't give an 
 opinion, sir." 
 
 " If your friends had no objection, would you have 
 any ? " said Mr. Haredale. " Come. There's a plain 
 question, and easy to answer." 
 
 "None at all that I know of, sir," replied Dolly. 
 " I should be very glad to be near Miss Emma, of 
 course, and always am." 
 
 " That's well," said Mr. Haredale. « That is all 
 I had to say. You are anxious to go. Don't let me 
 detain you." 
 
 Dolly didn't let him, nor did she wait for him to 
 try, for the words had no sooner passed his lips than 
 she was out of the room, out of the house, and in 
 the fields again. 
 
 The first thing to be done, of course, when she 
 came to herself, and considered what a flurry she 
 had been in, was to cry afresh ; and the next thing, 
 when she reflected how well she had got over it, 
 was to laugh heartily. The tears, once banished, 
 gave place to the smiles, and at last Dolly laughed 
 so much that she was fain to lean against a tree, 
 and give vent to her exultation. When she could 
 laugh no longer, and was quite tired, she put her 
 head-dress to rights, dried her eyes, looked back 
 very merrily and triumphantly at the Warren chim- 
 neys, which were just visible, and resumed her 
 walk. 
 
 The twilight had come on, and it was quickly 
 growing dusk, but the path was so familiar to her
 
 234 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 from frequent traversing that she hardly thought of 
 this, and certainly felt no uneasiness at being alone. 
 Moreover, there was the bracelet to admire ; and 
 when she had given it a good rub, and held it out 
 at arm's-length, it sparkled and glittered so beauti- 
 fully on her wrist, that to look at it in every point 
 of view, and with every possible turn of the arm, 
 was quite an absorbing business. There was the 
 letter, too, and it looked so mysterious and know- 
 ing, when she took it out of her pocket, and it held, 
 as she knew, so much inside, that to turn it over 
 and over, and think about it, and wonder how it 
 began, and how it ended, and what it said all 
 through, was another matter of constant occupa- 
 tion. Between the bracelet and the letter, there 
 was quite enough to do without thinking of any- 
 thing else ; and admiring each by turns, Dolly went 
 on gayly. 
 
 As she passed through a wicket-gate to where the 
 path was narrow, and lay between two hedges gar- 
 nished here and there with trees, she heard a rus- 
 tling close at hand, which brought her to a sudden 
 stop. She listened. All was very quiet, and she 
 went on again — not absolutely frightened, but a 
 little quicker than before, perhaps, and possibly not 
 quite so much at her ease, for a check of that kind 
 is startling. 
 
 She had no sooner moved on again than she was 
 conscious of the same sound, which was like that of 
 a person trampling stealthily among bushes and 
 brushwood. Looking towards the spot whence it 
 appeared to come, she almost fancied she could 
 make out a crouching figure. She stopped again. 
 All was quiet as before. On she went once more —
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 235 
 
 decidedly faster now — and tried to sing softly to 
 herself. It must be the wind. 
 
 But how came the wind to blow only when she 
 walked, and cease when she stood still ? She 
 stopped involuntarily as she made the reflection, 
 and the rustling noise stopped likewise. She was 
 really frightened now, and was yet hesitating what 
 to do, when the bushes crackled and snapped, and a 
 man came plunging through them, close before her.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 It was for the moment an inexpressible relief to 
 Dolly to recognize in the person who forced himself 
 into the path so abruptly, and now stood directly in 
 her way, Hugh of the Maypole, whose name she 
 uttered in a tone of delighted surprise that came 
 from her heart. 
 
 " Was it you ? " she said. " How glad I am to 
 see you ! and how could you terrify me so ? " 
 
 In answer to which he said nothing at all, but 
 stood quite still, looking at her. 
 
 " Did you come to meet me ? " asked Dolly. 
 
 Hugh nodded, and muttered something to the 
 effect that he had been waiting for her, and had ex- 
 pected her sooner. 
 
 " I thought it likely they would send," said Dolly, 
 greatly re-assured by this. 
 
 " Nobody sent me," was the sullen answer. " I 
 came of my own accord." 
 
 The rough bearing of this fellow, and his wild, 
 uncouth appearance, had often filled the girl with a 
 vague apprehension, even when other people were 
 by, and had occasioned her to shrink from him in- 
 voluntarily. The having him for an unbidden com- 
 panion in so solitary a place, with the darkness fast 
 gathering about them, renewed and even increased 
 the alarm she had felt at first. 
 
 236

 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 237 
 
 If his manner had been merely dogged and pas- 
 sively fierce, as usual, she would have had no 
 greater dislike to his company than she always felt 
 — perhaps, indeed, would have been rather glad to 
 have had him at hand. But there was something of 
 coarse bold admiration in his look, which terrified 
 her very much. She glanced timidly towards him, 
 uncertain whether to go forward or retreat, and he 
 stood gazing at her like a handsome satyr ; and so 
 they remained for some short time without stirring 
 or breaking silence. At length Dolly took courage, 
 shot past him, and hurried on. 
 
 '•'Why do you spend so much breath in avoiding 
 me ? " said Hugh, accommodating his pace to hers, 
 and keeping close at her side. 
 
 " I wish to get back as quickly as I can, and you 
 walk too near me," answered Dolly. 
 
 " Too near ! " said Hugh, stooping over her so 
 that she could feel his breath upon her forehead. 
 " Why too near ? You're always proud to me, mis- 
 tress." 
 
 " I am proud to no one. You mistake me," an- 
 swered Dolly. "Fall back, if you please, or go 
 on." 
 
 "Nay, mistress," he rejoined, endeavoring to 
 draw her arm through his. " I'll walk with you." 
 
 She released herself, and clenching her little 
 hand, struck him with right good will. At this 
 Maypole Hugh burst into a roar of laughter, and 
 passing his arm about her waist, held her in his 
 strong grasp as easily as if she had been a bird. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! Well done, mistress ! Strike 
 again. You shall beat my face, and tear my hair, 
 and pluck my beard up by the roots, and welcome,
 
 238 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 for the sake of your bright eyes. Strike again, 
 mistress. Do. Ha, ha, ha ! I like it." 
 
 " Let me go," she cried, endeavoring with "both 
 her hands to push him off. " Let me go this mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " You had as good be kinder to me, Sweetlips," 
 said Hugh. " You had, indeed. Come. Tell me 
 now. Why are you always so proud ? I don't 
 quarrel with you for it. I love you when you're 
 proud. Ha, ha, ha ! You can't hide your beauty 
 from a poor fellow ; that's a comfort ! " 
 
 She gave him no answer, but, as he had not yet 
 checked her progress, continued to press forward as 
 rapidly as she could. At length, between the hurry 
 she had made, her terror, and the tightness of his 
 embrace, her strength failed her, and she could go 
 no farther. 
 
 " Hugh," cried the panting girl, " good Hugh, if 
 you will leave me I will give you anything — every- 
 thing I have — and never tell one word of this to 
 any living creature." 
 
 " You had best not," he answered. " Harkye, little 
 dove, you had best not. All about here know me, 
 and what I dare do if I have a mind. If ever you 
 are going to tell, stop when the words are on your 
 lips, and think of the mischief you'll bring, if you 
 do, upon some innocent heads that you wouldn't 
 wish to hurt a hair of. Bring trouble on me, and 
 I'll bring trouble and something more on them in 
 return. I care no more for them than for so many 
 dogs; not so much — why should I? I'd sooner 
 kill a man than a dog any day. I've never been 
 sorry for a man's death in all my life, and I have 
 for a dog's."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 239 
 
 There was something so thoroughly savage in the 
 manner of these expressions, and the looks and ges- 
 tures by which they were accompanied, that her 
 great fear of him gave her new strength, and 
 enabled her by a sudden effort to extricate herself 
 and run fleetly from him. But Hugh was as nim- 
 ble, strong, and swift of foot as any man in broad 
 England, and it was but a fruitless expenditure of 
 energy, for he had her in his encircling arms again 
 before she had gone a hundred yards. 
 
 "Softly, darling — gently. Would you fly from 
 rough Hugh, that loves you as well as any drawing- 
 room gallant ? " 
 
 " I would," she answered, struggling to free her- 
 self again. " I will. Help ! " 
 
 " A fine for crying out," said Hugh. " Ha, ha, 
 ha ! A fine, pretty one, from your lips. I pay my- 
 self ! Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " Help ! help ! help ! " As she shrieked with the 
 utmost violence she could exert, a shout was heard 
 in answer, and another, and another. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! " cried the girl in an ecstasy. 
 " Joe, dear Joe, this way. Help ! " 
 
 Her assailant paused, and stood irresolute for a 
 moment, but the shouts drawing nearer and coming 
 quick upon them, forced him to a speedy decision. 
 He released her, whispered with a menacing look, 
 " Tell him : and see what follows ! " and leaping the 
 hedge, was gone in an instant. Dolly darted off, 
 and fairly ran into Joe Willet's open arms. 
 
 " What is the matter ? are you hurt ? what was it ? 
 who was it ? where is he ? what was he like ? " with 
 a great many encouraging expressions and assur- 
 ances of safety, were the first words Joe poured
 
 240 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 forth. But poor little Dolly was so breathless and 
 terrified that for some time she was quite unable to 
 answer him, and hung upon his shoulder, sobbing 
 and crying as if her heart would break. 
 
 Joe had not the smallest objection to have her 
 hanging on his shoulder ; no, not the least, though 
 it crushed the cherry-colored ribbons sadly, and put 
 the smart little hat out of all shape. But he 
 couldn't bear to see her cry ; it went to his very 
 heart. He tried to console her, bent over her, whis- 
 pered to her — some say kissed her, but that's a 
 fable. At any rate, he said all the kind and tender 
 things he could think of, and Dolly let him go on 
 and didn't interrupt him once, and it was a good 
 ten minutes before she was able to raise her head 
 and thank him. 
 
 " What was it that frightened you ? " said Joe. 
 
 A man whose person was unknown to her had 
 followed her, she answered ; he began by begging, 
 and went on to threats of robbery, which he was on 
 the point of carrying into execution, and would 
 have executed, but for Joe's timely aid. The hesi- 
 tation and confusion with which she said this, Joe 
 attributed to the fright she had sustained, and no 
 suspicion of the truth occurred to him for a moment. 
 
 " Stop when the words are on your lips." A hun- 
 dred times that night, and very often afterwards, 
 when the disclosure was rising to her tongue, Dolly 
 thought of that, and repressed it. A deeply rooted 
 dread of the man ; the conviction that his ferocious 
 nature, once roused, would stop at nothing ; and the 
 strong assurance that if she impeached him, the full 
 measure of his wrath and vengeance would be 
 wreaked on Joe, who had preserved her ; these were
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 241 
 
 considerations she had not the courage to overcome, 
 and inducements to secrecy too powerful for her to 
 surmount. 
 
 Joe, for his part, was a great deal too happy to 
 inquire very curiously into the matter; and Dolly 
 being yet too tremulous to walk without assistance, 
 they went forward very slowly, and in his mind 
 very pleasantly, until the Maypole lights were near 
 at hand, twinkling their cheerful welcome, when 
 Dolly stopped suddenly, and with a half-scream 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 " The letter ! " 
 
 " What letter ? " cried Joe. 
 
 "That I was carrying — I had it in my hand. 
 My bracelet, too," she said, clasping her wrist. " I 
 have lost them both ! " 
 
 " Do you mean just now ? " said Joe. 
 
 " Either I dropped them then, or they were taken 
 from me," answered Dolly, vainly searching her 
 pocket and rustling her dress. " They are gone, 
 both gone. What an unhappy girl I am ! " With 
 these words poor Dolly, who, to do her justice, was 
 quite as sorry for the loss of the letter as for her 
 bracelet, fell a crying again, and bemoaned her fate 
 most movingly. 
 
 Joe tried to comfort her with the assurance that, 
 directly he had housed her safely in the Maypole, 
 he would return to the spot with a lantern (for it 
 was now quite dark), and make strict search for the 
 missing articles, which there was great probability 
 of his finding, as it was not likely that anybody had 
 passed that way since, and she was not conscious of 
 their having been forcibly taken from her. Dolly 
 thanked him very heartily for this offer, though 
 
 VOL. 1.-16.
 
 242 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 with no great hope of his quest being successful; 
 and so, with many lamentations on her side, and 
 many hopeful words on his, and much weakness on 
 the part of Dolly, and much tender supporting on 
 the part of Joe, they reached the Maypole bar at 
 last, where the locksmith and his wife and old John 
 were yet keeping high festival. 
 
 Mr. Willet received the intelligence of Dolly's 
 trouble with that surprising presence of mind and 
 readiness of speech for which he was so eminently 
 distinguished above all other men. Mrs. Varden 
 expressed her sympathy for her daughter's distress 
 by scolding her roundly for being so late ; and the 
 honest locksmith divided himself between condoling 
 with and kissing Dolly, and shaking hands heartily 
 with Joe, whom he could not sufficiently praise or 
 thank. 
 
 In reference to this latter point, old John was far 
 from agreeing with his friend ; for, besides that he 
 by no means approved of an adventurous spirit in 
 the abstract, it occurred to him that if his son and 
 heir had been seriously damaged in a scuffle, the 
 consequences would assuredly have been expensive 
 and inconvenient, and might perhaps have proved 
 detrimental to the Maypole business. Wherefore, 
 and because he looked with no favorable eye upon 
 young girls, but rather considered that they and the 
 whole female sex were a kind of nonsensical mis- 
 take on the part of Nature, he took occasion to 
 retire and shake his head in private at the boiler ; 
 inspired by which silent oracle, he was moved to 
 give Joe various stealthy nudges with his elbow, as 
 a parental reproof and gentle admonition to mind 
 his own business, and not make a fool of himself.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 243 
 
 Joe, however, took down the lantern and lighted 
 it ; and arming himself with a stout stick, asked 
 whether Hugh was in the stable. 
 
 " He's lying asleep before the kitchen fire, sir," 
 said Mr. Willet. " What do you want him for ? " 
 
 " I want him to come with me to look after this 
 bracelet and letter," answered Joe. " Halloa there ! 
 Hugh ! " 
 
 Dolly turned pale as death, and felt as if she 
 must faint forthwith. After a few moments, Hugh 
 came staggering in, stretching himself and yawning 
 according to custom, and presenting every appear- 
 ance of having been roused from a sound nap. 
 
 " Here, sleepy -head," said Joe, giving him the 
 lantern. " Carry this, and bring the dog, and that 
 small cudgel of yours. And woe betide the fellow 
 if we come upon him." 
 
 " What fellow ? " growled Hugh, rubbing his eyes 
 and shaking himself. 
 
 " What fellow ? " returned Joe, who was in a 
 state of great valor and bustle ; " a fellow you ought 
 to know of, and be more alive about. It's well for 
 the like of you, lazy giant that you are, to be snor- 
 ing your time away in chimney-corners, when honest 
 men's daughters can't cross even our quiet meadows 
 at nightfall without being set upon by footpads, and 
 frightened out of their precious lives." 
 
 " They never rob me," cried Hugh with a laugh. 
 " I have got nothing to lose. But I'd as lief knock 
 them at head as any other men. How many are 
 there ? " 
 
 "Only one," said Dolly faintly, for everybody 
 looked at her. 
 
 " And what was he like, mistress ? " said Hugh
 
 244 BAKNABY BUDGE. 
 
 with a glance at young Willet, so slight and momen- 
 tary that the scowl it conveyed was lost on all but 
 her. " About my height ? " 
 
 " Not — not so tall,'' Dolly replied, scarce know- 
 ing what she said. 
 
 " His dress," said Hugh, looking at her keenly, 
 " like — like any of ours now ? I know all the 
 people hereabouts, and maybe could give a guess at 
 the man if I had anything to guide me." 
 
 Dolly faltered and turned paler yet ; then answered 
 that he was wrapped in a loose coat, and had his face 
 hidden by a handkerchief, and that she could give 
 no other description of him. 
 
 " You wouldn't know him if you saw him then, 
 belike ? " said Hugh with a malicious grin. 
 
 "I should not," answered Dolly, bursting into 
 tears again. " I don't wish to see him. I can't 
 bear to think of him. I can't talk about him any 
 more. Don't go to look for these things, Mr. Joe, 
 pray don't. I entreat you not to go with that man." 
 
 "Not to go with me!" cried Hugh. "I'm too 
 rough for them all. They're all afraid of me. Why, 
 bless you, mistress, I've the tenderest heart alive. 
 I love all the ladies, ma'am," said Hugh, turning to 
 the locksmith's wife. 
 
 Mrs. Varden opined that if he did, he ought to be 
 ashamed of himself ; such sentiments being more 
 consistent (so she argued) with a benighted Mussul- 
 man or wild Islander than with a stanch Protestant. 
 Arguing from this imperfect state of his morals, 
 Mrs. Varden further opined that he had never 
 studied the Manual. Hugh admitting that he never 
 had, and moreover that he couldn't read, Mrs. Varden 
 declared, with much severity, that he ought to be
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 245 
 
 even more ashamed of himself than before, and 
 strongly recommended him to save up his pocket 
 money for the purchase of one, and further, to teach 
 himself the contents with all convenient diligence. 
 She was still pursuing this train of discourse, when 
 Hugh, somewhat unceremoniously and irreverently, 
 followed his young master out, and left her to edify 
 the rest of the company. This she proceeded to do, 
 and finding that Mr. Willet's eyes were fixed upon 
 her with an appearance of deep attention, gradually 
 addressed the whole of her discourse to him, whom 
 she entertained with o, moral and theological lecture 
 of considerable length, in the conviction that great 
 workings were taking place in his spirit. The sim- 
 ple truth was, however, that Mr. Willet, although 
 his eyes were wide open, and he saw a woman before 
 him whose head, by long and steady looking at, 
 seemed to grow bigger and bigger until it filled the 
 whole bar, was to all other intents and purposes fast 
 asleep ; and so sat leaning back in his chair, with 
 his hands in his pockets, until his son's return 
 caused him to wake up with a deep sigh, and a faint 
 impression that he had been dreaming about pickled 
 pork and greens — a vision of his slumbers which 
 was no doubt referable to the circumstance of Mrs. 
 Yarden's having frequently pronounced the word 
 " Grace " with much emphasis ; which word, enter- 
 ing the portals of Mr. Willet's brain as they stood 
 ajar, and coupling itself with the words "before 
 meat," which were there ranging about, did in time 
 suggest a particular kind of meat, together with 
 that description of vegetable which is usually its 
 companion. 
 
 The search was wholly unsuccessful. Joe had
 
 246 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 groped along the path a dozen times, and among the 
 grass, and in the dry ditch, and in the hedge, but 
 all in vain. Dolly, who was quite inconsolable for 
 her loss, wrote a note to Miss Haredale, giving her 
 the same account of it that she had given at the 
 Maypole, which Joe undertook to deliver as soon as 
 the family were stirring next day. That done, they 
 sat down to tea in the bar, where there was an un- 
 common display of buttered toast, and — in order 
 that they might not grow faint for want of suste- 
 nance, and might have a decent halting-place or 
 half-way house between dinner and supper — a few 
 savory trifles in the shape of great rashers of broiled 
 ham, which, being well cured, done to a turn, and 
 smoking hot, sent forth a tempting and delicious 
 fragrance. 
 
 Mrs. Varden was seldom very Protestant at meals, 
 unless it happened that they were underdone or 
 overdone, or indeed that anything occurred to put 
 her out of humor. Her spirits rose considerably on 
 beholding these goodly preparations, and, from the 
 nothingness of good works, she passed to the some- 
 thingness of ham and toast with great cheerfulness. 
 Nay, under the influence of these wholesome stimu- 
 lants, she sharply reproved her daughter for being 
 low and despondent (which she considered an unac- 
 ceptable frame of mind), and remarked, as she held 
 her own plate for a fresh supply, that it would be 
 well for Dolly, who pined over the loss of a toy and 
 a sheet of paper, if she would reflect upon the vol- 
 untary sacrifices of the missionaries in foreign parts, 
 who lived chiefly on salads. 
 
 The proceedings of such a day occasioned various 
 fluctuations in the human thermometer, and espe-
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 247 
 
 cially in instruments so sensitively and delicately 
 constructed as Mrs. Varden. Thus at dinner Mrs. 
 V. stood at summer heat ; genial, smiling, and 
 delightful. After dinner, in the sunshine of the 
 wine, she went up at least half a dozen degrees, 
 and was perfectly enchanting. As its effect sub- 
 sided she fell rapidly, went to sleep for an hour or 
 so at temperate, and woke at something below 
 freezing. Now she was at summer heat again in 
 the shade ; and when tea was over, and old John, 
 producing a bottle of cordial from one of the oaken 
 cases, insisted on her sipping two glasses thereof in 
 slow succession, she stood steadily at ninety for one 
 hour and a quarter. Profiting by experience, the 
 locksmith took advantage of this genial weather to 
 smoke his pipe in the porch, and, in consequence of 
 this prudent management, he was fully prepared, 
 when the glass went down again, to start homewards 
 directly. 
 
 The horse was accordingly put in, and the chaise 
 brought round to the door. Joe, who would on no 
 account be dissuaded from escorting them until they 
 had passed the most dreary and solitary part of the 
 road, led out the gray mare at the same time ; and, 
 having helped Dolly into her seat (more happiness !), 
 sprung gayly into the saddle. Then, after many 
 good-nights, and admonitions to wrap up, and glan- 
 cing of lights, and handing in of cloaks and shawls, 
 the chaise rolled away, and Joe trotted beside it — 
 on Dolly's side, no doubt, and pretty close to the 
 wheel too.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 It was a fine bright night, and for all her lowness 
 of spirits Dolly kept looking up at the stars in a 
 manner so bewitching (and she knew it !) that Joe 
 was clean out of his senses, and plainly showed that 
 if ever a man were, not to say over head and ears, 
 but over the Monument and the top of St. Paul's in 
 love, that man was himself. The road was a very 
 good one ; not at all a jolting road, or an uneven 
 one ; and yet Dolly held the side of the chaise with 
 one little hand all the way. If there had been an 
 executioner behind him with an uplifted axe ready 
 to chop off his head if he touched that hand, Joe 
 couldn't have helped doing it. From putting his 
 own hand upon it as if by chance, and taking it 
 away again after a minute or so, he got to riding 
 along without taking it off at all ; as if he, the 
 escort, were bound to do that as an important part 
 of his duty, and had come out for the purpose. The 
 most curious circumstance about this little incident 
 was, that Dolly didn't seem to know of it. She 
 looked so innocent and unconscious when she turned 
 her eyes on Joe, that it was quite provoking. 
 
 SI ie talked, though ; talked about her fright, and 
 about Joe's coming up to rescue her, and about her 
 gratitude, and about her fear that she might not 
 
 248
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 249 
 
 have thanked him enough, and about their always 
 being friends from that time forth — and about all 
 that sort of thing. And when Joe said, not friends 
 he hoped, Dolly was quite surprised, and said, not 
 enemies she hoped ; and when Joe said, couldn't 
 they be something much better than either ? Dolly 
 all of a sudden found out a star which was brighter 
 than all the other stars, and begged to call his atten- 
 tion to the same, and was ten thousand times more 
 innocent and unconscious than ever. 
 
 In this manner they travelled along, talking very 
 little above a whisper, and wishing the road could 
 be stretched out to some dozen times its natural 
 length — at least, that was Joe's desire — when, as 
 they were getting clear of the forest and emerging 
 on the more frequented road, they heard behind 
 them the sound of a horse's feet at a round trot, 
 which, growing rapidly louder as it drew nearer, 
 elicited a scream from Mrs. Varden, and the cry " A 
 friend ! " from the rider, who now came panting up, 
 and checked his horse beside them. 
 
 " This man again ! " cried Dolly, shuddering. 
 
 " Hugh ! " said Joe. " What errand are you 
 upon ? " 
 
 " I come to ride back with you," he answered, 
 glancing covertly at the locksmith's daughter. " He 
 sent me." 
 
 " My father ! " said poor Joe ; adding under his 
 breath, with a very unfilial apostrophe, "Will he 
 never think me man enough to take care of myself ? " 
 
 "Ay!" returned Hugh to the first part of the 
 inquiry. "The roads are not safe just now, he 
 says, and you'd better have a companion." 
 
 "Eide on, then," said Joe. "I'm not going to 
 turn yet."
 
 250 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Hugh complied, and they went on again. It was 
 his whim or humor to ride immediately before the 
 chaise, and from this position he constantly turned 
 his head, and looked back. Dolly felt that he looked 
 at her, but she averted her eyes and feared to raise 
 them once, so great was the dread with which he 
 had inspired her. 
 
 This interruption, and the consequent wakeful- 
 ness of Mrs. Varden, who had been nodding in her 
 sleep up to this point, except for a minute or two 
 at a time, when she roused herself to scold the 
 locksmith for audaciously taking hold of her to pre- 
 vent her nodding herself out of the chaise, put a 
 restraint upon the whispered conversation, and made 
 it difficult of resumption. Indeed, before they had 
 gone another mile, Gabriel stopped at his wife's 
 desire, and that good lady protested she would not 
 hear of Joe's going a step farther on any account 
 whatever. It was in vain for Joe to protest, on the 
 other hand, that he was by no means tired, and 
 would turn back presently, and would see them 
 safely past such and such a point, and so forth. 
 Mrs. Varden was obdurate, and, being so, was not 
 to be overcome by mortal agency. 
 
 " Good-night — if I must say it," said Joe sor- 
 rowfully. 
 
 " Good-night," said Dolly. She would have added, 
 " Take care of that man, and pray don't trust him," 
 but he had turned his horse's head, and was standing 
 close to them. She had, therefore, nothing for it 
 but to suffer Joe to give her hand a gentle squeeze, 
 and when the chaise had gone on for some distance, 
 to look back and wave it, as he still lingered on the 
 spot where they had parted, with the tall dark figure 
 of Hugh beside him.
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 251 
 
 What she thought about, going home ; and whether 
 the coachmaker held as favorable a place in her 
 meditations as he had occupied in the morning, is 
 unknown. They reached home at last — at last, for 
 it was a long way, made none the shorter by Mrs. 
 Varden's grumbling. Miggs, hearing the sound of 
 wheels, was at the door immediately. 
 
 " Here they are, Simmun ! Here they are ! " cried 
 Miggs, clapping her hands, and issuing forth to help 
 her mistress to alight. "Bring a chair, Simmun. 
 Now, ain't you better for it, mim ? Don't you feel 
 more yourself than you would have done if you'd 
 have stopped at home ? Oh gracious ! how cold you 
 are ! Goodness me, sir, she's a perfect heap of ice." 
 
 " I can't help it, my good girl. You had better 
 take her in to the fire," said the locksmith. 
 
 " Master sounds unfeeling, mim," said Miggs in a 
 tone of commiseration, " but such is not his inten- 
 tions, Fin sure. After what he has seen of you this 
 day, I never will believe but that he has a deal more 
 affection in his heart than to speak unkind. Come 
 in and sit yourself down by the fire ; there's a good 
 dear — do." 
 
 Mrs. Varden complied. The locksmith followed 
 with his hands in his pockets, and Mr. Tappertit 
 trundled off with the chaise to a neighboring stable. 
 
 " Martha, my dear," said the locksmith, when they 
 reached the parlor, " if you'll look to Dolly your- 
 self, or let somebody else do it, perhaps it will be 
 only kind and reasonable. She has been frightened 
 you know, and is not at all well to-night." 
 
 In fact, Dolly had thrown herself upon the sofa, 
 quite regardless of all the little finery of which 
 she had been so proud in the morning, and, with
 
 252 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 her face buried in her hands, was crying very 
 much. 
 
 At first sight of this phenomenon (for Dolly was 
 by no means accustomed to displays of this sort, 
 rather learning from her mother's example to avoid 
 them as much as possible), Mrs. Varden expressed 
 her belief that never was any woman so beset as 
 she : that her life was a continued scene of trial • 
 that whenever she was disposed to be well and 
 cheerful, so sure were the people around her to 
 throw, by some means or other, a damp upon her 
 spirits ; and that, as she had enjoyed herself that 
 day, and Heaven knew it was very seldom she did 
 enjoy herself, so she was now to pay the penalty. 
 To all such propositions Miggs assented freely. 
 Poor Dolly, however, grew none the better for these 
 restoratives, but rather worse, indeed; and seeing 
 that she was really ill, both Mrs. Varden and Miggs 
 were moved to compassion, and tended her in 
 earnest. 
 
 But even then their very kindness shaped itself 
 into their usual course of policy, and though Dolly 
 was in a swoon, it was rendered clear to the meanest 
 capacity that Mrs. Varden was the sufferer. Thus 
 when Dolly began to get a little better, and passed 
 into that stage in which matrons hold that remon- 
 strance and argument may be successfully applied, 
 her mother represented to her, with tears in her eyes, 
 that if she had been flurried and worried that day, 
 she must remember it was the common lot of 
 humanity, and in especial of womankind, who 
 through the whole of their existence must expect 
 no less, and were bound to make up their minds to 
 meek endurance and patient resignation. Mrs.
 
 BAEXABY BUDGE. 253 
 
 Varden entreated her to remember that one of these 
 days she would, in all probability, have to do violence 
 tc her feelings so far as to be married ; and that 
 marriage, as she might see every day of her life 
 (and truly she did), was a state requiring great 
 fortitude and forbearance. She represented to her 
 in lively colors, that if she (Mrs. V.) had not, in 
 steering her course through this vale of tears, been 
 supported by a strong principle of duty, which alone 
 upheld and prevented her from drooping, she must 
 have been in her grave many years ago ; in which 
 case she desired to know what would have become 
 of that errant spirit (meaning the locksmith), of 
 whose eyes she was the very apple, and in whose 
 path she was, as it were, a shining light and guiding 
 star? 
 
 Miss Miggs also put in her word to the same 
 effect. She said that indeed and indeed Miss Dolly 
 might take pattern by her blessed mother, who, she 
 always had said, and always would say, though she 
 were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered for it next 
 minute, was the mildest, amiablest, forgivingest- 
 spirited, long-sufferingest female as ever she could 
 have believed ; the mere narration of whose excel- 
 lences had worked such a wholesome change in the 
 mind of her own sister-in-law, that, whereas, before, 
 she and her husband lived like cat and dog, and were 
 in the habit of exchanging brass candlesticks, pot- 
 lids, flat-irons, and other such strong resentments, 
 they were now the happiest and affectionatest couple 
 upon earth ; as could be proved any day on applica- 
 tion at Golden Lion Court, number twenty-sivin, 
 second bell-handle on the right-hand door-post. 
 After glancing at herself as a comparatively worth-
 
 254 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 less vessel, but still as one of some desert, she 
 besought her to bear in mind that her aforesaid dear 
 and only mother was of a weakly constitution and 
 excitable temperament, who had constantly to sus- 
 tain afflictions in domestic life, compared with which 
 thieves and robbers were as nothing, and yet never 
 sunk down or gave way to despair or wrath, but, in 
 prize-fighting phraseology, always came up to time 
 with a cheerful countenance, and went in to win as 
 if nothing had happened. When Miggs had finished 
 her solo, her mistress struck in again, and the two 
 together performed a duet to the same purpose ; the 
 burden being that Mrs. Varden was persecuted per- 
 fection, and Mr. Varden as the representative of 
 mankind in that apartment, a creature of vicious 
 and brutal habits, utterly insensible to the blessings 
 he enjoyed. Of so refined a character, indeed, was 
 their talent of assault under the mask of sympathy, 
 that when Dolly, recovering, embraced her father 
 tenderly, as if in vindication of his goodness, Mrs. 
 Varden expressed her solemn hope that this would 
 be a lesson to him for the remainder of his life, and 
 that he would do some little justice to a woman's 
 nature ever afterwards — in which aspiration Miss 
 Miggs by divers sniffs and coughs, more significant 
 than the longest oration, expressed her entire 
 concurrence. 
 
 But the great joy of Miggs's heart was, that she 
 not only picked up a full account of what had hap- 
 pened, but had the exquisite delight of conveying it 
 to Mr. Tappertit for his jealousy and torture. For 
 that gentleman on account of Dolly's indisposition, 
 had been required to take his supper in the work- 
 shop, and it was conveyed thither by Miss Miggs's 
 own fair hands.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 255 
 
 " Oh, Simmun ! " said the young lady, " such 
 goings on to-day ! Oh, gracious me, Simmun ! " 
 
 Mr. Tappertit, who was not in the best of humors, 
 and who disliked Miss Miggs more when she laid 
 her hand on her heart and panted for breath than at 
 any other time, as her deficiency of outline was 
 most apparent under such circumstances, eyed her 
 over in his loftiest style, and deigned to express no 
 curiosity whatever. 
 
 " I never heard the like, nor nobody else," pursued 
 Miggs. " The idea of interfering with her ! What 
 people can see in her to make it worth their while to 
 do so, that's the joke — he, he, be ! " 
 
 Finding there was a lady in the case, Mr. Tappertit 
 haughtily requested his fair friend to be more expli- 
 cit, and demanded to know what she meant by " her." 
 
 " Why, that Dolly," said Miggs, with an extremely 
 sharp emphasis On the name. " But oh, upon my 
 word and honor, young Joseph Willet is a brave 
 one, and he do deserve her, that he do." 
 
 "Woman!" said Mr. Tappertit, jumping off the 
 counter on which he was seated ; " beware ! " 
 
 " My stars, Simmun ! " cried Miggs in affected 
 astonishment. " You frighten me to death ! What's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " There are strings," said Mr. Tappertit, flourish- 
 ing his bread and cheese knife in the air, " in the 
 human heart that had better not be wibrated. 
 That's what's the matter." 
 
 "Oh, very well — if you're in a huff — " cried 
 Miggs, turning away. 
 
 " Huff or no huff," said Mr. Tappertit, detaining 
 her by the wrist. " What do you mean, Jezebel ? 
 What were you going to say ? Answer me ! "
 
 256 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 Notwithstanding this uncivil exhortation, Miggs 
 gladly did as she was required ; and told him how 
 that their young mistress, being alone in the mead- 
 ows after dark, had been attacked by three or four 
 tall men, who would have certainly borne her away, 
 and perhaps murdered her, but for the timely ar- 
 rival of Joseph Willet, who with his own single 
 hand put them all to flight, and rescued her ; to the 
 lasting admiration of his fellow-creatures generally, 
 and to the eternal love and gratitude of Dolly 
 Varden. 
 
 "Very good," said Mr. Tappertit, fetching a long 
 breath when the tale was told, and rubbing his hair 
 up till it stood stiff and straight on end all over his 
 head. " His clays are numbered." 
 
 " Oh, Simmun ! " 
 
 "I tell you," said the 'prentice, "his days are 
 numbered. Leave me. Get along with you." 
 
 Miggs departed at his bidding, but less because of 
 his bidding than because she desired to chuckle in 
 secret. When she had given vent to her satisfaction, 
 she returned to the parlor ; where the locksmith, 
 stimulated by quietness and Toby, had become 
 talkative, and was disposed to take a cheerful re- 
 view of the occurrences of the day. But Mrs. Var- 
 den, whose practical religion (as is not uncommon) 
 was usually of the retrospective order, cut him short 
 by declaiming on the sinfulness of such junketings, 
 and holding that it was high time to go to bed. To 
 bed, therefore, she withdrew, with an aspect as grim 
 and gloomy as that of the Maypole's own state 
 couch ; and to bed the rest of the establishment 
 soon afterwards repaired.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Twilight had given place to night some hours, 
 and it was high noon in those quarters of the town 
 in which "the world " condescended to dwell — the 
 world being then, as now, of very limited dimensions 
 and easily lodged — when Mr. Chester reclined upon 
 a sofa in his dressing-room in the Temple, entertain- 
 ing himself with a book. 
 
 He was dressing, as it seemed, by easy stages, 
 and having performed half the journey, was taking 
 a long rest. Completely attired, as to his legs and 
 feet, in the trimmest fashion of the day, he had yet 
 the remainder of his toilet to perform. The coat 
 was stretched, like a refined scarecrow, on its sepa- 
 rate horse ; the waistcoat was displayed to the best 
 advantage ; the various ornamental articles of dress 
 were severally set out in most alluring order ; and 
 yet he lay dangling his legs between the sofa and 
 the ground, as intent upon his book as if there were 
 nothing but bed before him. 
 
 " Upon my honor," he said, at length raising his 
 eyes to the ceiling with the air of a man who was 
 reflecting seriously on what he had read ; " upon my 
 honor, the most masterly composition, the most deli- 
 cate thoughts, the finest code of morality, and the 
 most gentlemanly sentiments in the universe ! 
 vol. I.-17. 257
 
 258 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Ah, Ned, Ned, if you would but form your mind 
 by such precepts, we should have but one common 
 feeling on every subject that could possibly arise 
 between us ! " 
 
 This apostrophe was addressed, like the rest of 
 his remarks, to empty air: for Edward was not 
 present, and the father was quite alone. 
 
 "My Lord Chesterfield," he said, pressing his 
 hand tenderly upon the book as he laid it down, " if 
 I could but have profited by your genius soon enough 
 to have formed my son on the model you have left 
 to all wise fathers, both he and I would have been 
 rich men. Shakespeare was undoubtedly very fine 
 in his way ; Milton good, though prosy ; Lord Bacon 
 deep, and decidedly knowing ; but the writer who 
 should be his country's pride is my Lord Chester- 
 field." 
 
 He became thoughtful again, and the toothpick 
 was in requisition. 
 
 " I thought I was tolerably accomplished as a man 
 of the world," he continued. " I nattered myself 
 that I was pretty well versed in all those little arts 
 and graces which distinguish men of the world from 
 boors and peasants, and separate their character 
 from those intensely vulgar sentiments which are 
 called the national character. Apart from any nat- 
 ural prepossession in my own favor, I believed I 
 was. Still, in every page of this enlightened 
 writer, I find some captivating hypocrisy which has 
 never occurred to me before, or some superlative 
 piece of selfishness to which I was utterly a stran- 
 ger. I should quite blush for myself before this 
 stupendous creature, if, remembering his precepts, 
 one might blush at anything. An amazing man !
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 259 
 
 A nobleman indeed ! Any King or Queen may make 
 a Lord, but only the Devil himself — and the Graces 
 — can make a Chesterfield." 
 
 Men who are thoroughly false and hollow seldom 
 try to hide those vices from themselves ; and yet, in 
 the very act of avowing them, they lay claim, to the 
 virtues they feign most to despise. "For," say 
 they, " this is honesty, this is truth. All mankind 
 are like us, but they have not the candor to avow it." 
 The more they affect to deny the existence of any 
 sincerity in the world, the more they would be 
 thought to possess it in its boldest shape ; and this 
 is an unconscious compliment to Truth on the part 
 of these philosophers, which will turn the laugh 
 against them to the Day of Judgment. 
 
 Mr. Chester, having extolled his favorite author as 
 above recited, took up the book again in the excess 
 of his admiration, and was composing himself for a 
 further perusal of its sublime morality, when he was 
 disturbed by a noise at the outer door ; occasioned, 
 as it seemed, by the endeavors of his servant to 
 obstruct the entrance of some umvelcome visitor. 
 
 "A late hour for an importunate creditor," he 
 said, raising his eyebrows with as indolent an 
 expression of wonder as if the noise were in the 
 street, and one with which he had not the smallest 
 personal concern. "Much after their accustomed 
 time. The usual pretence I suppose. No doubt a 
 heavy payment to make up to-morrow. Poor fellow, 
 he loses time, and time is money, as the good proverb 
 says — I never found it out, though. Well, what 
 now ? You know I am not at home." 
 
 " A man, sir," replied the servant, who was to the 
 full as cool and negligent in his way as his master,
 
 260 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 " has brought home the riding-whip you lost the 
 other clay. I told him you were out, but he said he 
 was to wait while I brought it iu, and wouldn't go 
 till I did." 
 
 " He was quite right," returned his master, " and 
 you're a blockhead, possessing no judgment or dis- 
 cretion whatever. Tell him to come in, and see that 
 he rubs his shoes for exactly five minutes first." 
 
 The man laid the whip on a chair, and withdrew. 
 The master, who had only heard his foot upon the 
 ground, and had not taken the trouble to turn round 
 and look at him, shut his book, and pursued the train 
 of ideas his entrance had disturbed. 
 
 u If time were money," he said, handling his snuff- 
 box, "I would compound with my creditors, and give 
 them — let me see — how much a day ? There's my 
 nap after dinner — an hour — they're extremely wel- 
 come to that, and to make the most of it. In the 
 morning, between my breakfast and the paper, I 
 could spare them another hour; in the evening, 
 before dinner, say another. Three hours a day. 
 They might pay themselves in calls, with interest, 
 in twelve months. I think I shall propose it to them. 
 Ah, my centaur, are you there ? " 
 
 " Here I am," replied Hugh, striding in, followed 
 by a dog as rough and sullen as himself ; " and 
 trouble enough I've had to get here. What do 
 you ask me to come for, and keep me out when I do 
 come ? " 
 
 •• .My good fellow," returned the other, raising his 
 head a little from the cushion, and carelessly survey- 
 ing him from top to toe, "I am delighted to see 
 you, and to have, in your being here, the very best 
 proof that you are not kept out. How are you ? "
 
 BARNTABY EUDGE. 261 
 
 "I'm well enough," said Hugh impatiently. 
 
 " You look a perfect marvel of health. Sit 
 down." 
 
 " I'd rather stand," said Hugh. 
 
 " Please yourself, my good fellow," returned Mr. 
 Chester, rising, slowly pulling off the loose robe he 
 wore, and sitting down before the dressing-glass. 
 "Please yourself by all means." 
 
 Having said this in the politest and blandest tone 
 possible, he went on dressing, and took no further 
 notice of his guest, who stood in the same spot, as 
 uncertain what to do next, eying him sulkily from 
 time to time. 
 
 " Are you going to speak to me, master ? " he said 
 after a long silence. 
 
 '•' My worthy creature," returned Mr. Chester, 
 "you are a little ruffled and out of humor. I'll 
 wait till you're quite yourself again. I am in no 
 hurry." 
 
 This behavior had its intended effect. It humbled 
 and abashed the man, and made him still more irres- 
 olute and uncertain. Hard words he could have 
 returned, violence he would have repaid with inter- 
 est ; but this cool, complacent, contemptuous, self- 
 possessed reception caused him to feel his inferiority 
 more completely than the most elaborate arguments. 
 Everything contributed to this effect. His own 
 rough speech, contrasted with the soft persuasive 
 accents of the other ; his rude bearing, and Mr. 
 Chester's polished manner ; the disorder and negli- 
 gence of his ragged dress, and the elegant attire he 
 saw before him : with all the unaccustomed luxuries 
 and comforts of the room, and the silence that gave 
 him leisure to observe these things, and feel how ill
 
 262 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 at ease they made hiin ; all these influences, which 
 have too often some effect on tutored minds, and 
 become of almost resistless power when brought to 
 bear on such a mind as his, quelled Hugh completely. 
 He moved by little and little nearer to Mr. Chester's 
 chair, and glancing over his shoulder at the reflec- 
 tion of his face in the glass, as if seeking for some 
 encouragement in its expression, said at length, with 
 a rough attempt at conciliation, — 
 
 " Are you going to speak to me, master, or am I to 
 go away ? " 
 
 " Speak you," said Mr. Chester, " speak you, good 
 fellow. I have spoken, have I not ? I am waiting 
 for you." 
 
 " Why, lookee, sir," returned Hugh with increased 
 embarrassment, " am I the man that you privately 
 left your whip with before you rode away from the 
 Maypole, and told to bring it back whenever he 
 might want to see you on a certain subject ? " 
 
 " No doubt the same, or you have a twin brother," 
 said Mr. Chester, glancing at the reflection of his 
 anxious face ; " which is not probable, I should say." 
 
 " Then I have come, sir," said Hugh, " and I have 
 brought it back, and something else along with it. 
 A letter, sir, it is, that I took from the person who 
 had charge of it." As he spoke, he laid upon the 
 dressing-table Dolly's lost epistle. The very letter 
 that had cost her so much trouble. 
 
 " Did you obtain this by force, my good fellow ? " 
 said Mr. Chester, casting his eye upon it without 
 the least perceptible surprise or pleasure. 
 
 " Not quite," said Hugh. " Partly." 
 
 "Who was the messenger from whom you took 
 it?"
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 263 
 
 " A woman. One Yarden's daughter." 
 
 " Oh indeed ! " said Mr. Chester gayly. " What 
 else did you take from her ? " 
 
 " What else ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the other in a drawling manner, for 
 he was fixing a very small patch of sticking-plaster 
 on a very small pimple near the corner of his 
 mouth. " What else ? " 
 
 " Well — a kiss," replied Hugh after some hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 " And what else ? " 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 " I think," said Mr. Chester in the same easy tone, 
 and smiling twice or thrice to try if the patch 
 adhered — "I think there was something else. I 
 have heard a trifle of jewellery spoken of — a mere 
 trifle — a thing of such little value, indeed, that 
 you may have forgotten it. Do you remember any- 
 thing of the kind — such as a bracelet now, for 
 instance ? " 
 
 Hugh with a muttered oath thrust his hand into 
 his breast, and drawing the bracelet forth, wrapped 
 in a scrap of hay, was about to lay it on the table 
 likewise, when his patron stopped his hand and 
 bade him put it up again. 
 
 " You took that for yourself, my excellent friend," 
 he said, " and may keep it. I am neither a thief 
 nor a receiver. Don't show it to me. You had 
 better hide it again, and lose no time. Don't let me 
 see where you put it either," he added, turning away 
 his head. 
 
 " You're not a receiver ! " said Hugh bluntly, 
 despite the increasing awe in which he held him. 
 " What do you call that, master ? " striking the 
 letter with his heavy hand.
 
 264 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " I call that quite another thing," said Mr. Ches- 
 ter coolly. " I shall prove it presently, as you will 
 see. You are thirsty, I suppose ? " 
 
 Hugh drew his sleeve across his lips, and gruffly 
 answered yes. 
 
 "Step to that closet, and bring me a bottle you 
 will see there, and a glass." 
 
 He obeyed. His patron followed him with his 
 eyes, and when his back was turned, smiled as he 
 had never done when he stood beside the mirror. 
 On his return, he filled the glass and bade him 
 drink. That dram despatched, he poured him out 
 another, and another. 
 
 " How many can you bear ? " he said, filling the 
 glass again. 
 
 " As many as you like to give me. Pour on. Fill 
 high. A bumper with a bead in the middle ! Give 
 me enough of this," he added, as he tossed it down 
 his hairy throat, " and I'll do murder if you ask 
 me!" 
 
 " As I don't mean to ask you, and you might pos- 
 sibly do it Avithout being invited if you went on 
 much further," said Mr. Chester with great com- 
 posure, " we will stop, if agreeable to you, my good 
 friend, at the next glass. — You were drinking 
 before you came here." 
 
 "I always am when I can get it," cried Hugh 
 boisterously, waving the empty glass above his head, 
 and throwing himself into a rude dancing attitude. 
 " I always am. Why not ? Ha, ha, ha ! What's 
 so good to me as this ? What ever has been ? 
 What else has kept away the cold on bitter nights, 
 and driven hunger off in starving times ? What 
 else has given me the strength and courage of a

 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 265 
 
 man, when men would have left me to die, a puny- 
 child ? I should never have had a man's heart but 
 for this. I should have died in a ditch. Where's 
 he who, when I was a weak and sickly wretch, with 
 trembling legs and fading sight, bade me cheer up 
 as this did ? I never knew him; not I. I drink to 
 the drink, master. Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " You are an exceedingly cheerful young man," 
 said Mr. Chester, putting on his cravat with great 
 deliberation, and slightly moving his head from side 
 to side to settle his chin in its proper place. " Quite 
 a boon companion." 
 
 " Do you see this hand, master," said Hugh, " and 
 this arm ? " baring the brawny limb to the elbow. 
 " It was once mere skin and bone, and would have 
 been dust in some poor churchyard by this time, but 
 for the drink." 
 
 " You may cover it," said Mr. Chester ; " it's suffi- 
 ciently real in your sleeve." 
 
 " I should never have been spirited up to take a 
 kiss from the proud little beauty, master, but for 
 the drink," cried Hugh. " Ha, ha, ha ! It was a 
 good one. As sweet as honeysuckle, I warrant you. 
 I thank the drink for it. I'll drink to the drink 
 again, master. Fill me one more. Come. One 
 more ! " 
 
 " You are such a promising fellow," said his 
 patron, putting on his waistcoat with great nicety, 
 and taking no heed of this request, "that I must 
 caution you against having too many impulses from 
 the drink, and getting hung before your time. 
 What's your age ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " At any rate," said Mr. Chester, " you are young
 
 266 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 enough to escape what I may call a natural death 
 for some years to come. How can you trust your- 
 self in my hands, on so short an acquaintance, with 
 a halter round your neck ? What a confiding nature 
 yours must be ! " 
 
 Hugh fell back a pace or two, and surveyed him 
 with a look of mingled terror, indignation, and sur- 
 prise. Regarding himself in the glass with the same 
 complacency as before, and speaking as smoothly as 
 if he were discussing some pleasant chit-chat of 
 the town, his patron went on, — 
 
 " Robbery on the king's highway, my young 
 friend, is a very dangerous and ticklish occupation. 
 It is pleasant, I have no doubt, while it lasts ; but, 
 like many other pleasures in this transitory world, 
 it seldom lasts long. And really if, in the ingenu- 
 ousness of youth, you open your heart so readily on 
 the subject, I am afraid your career will be an 
 extremely short one." 
 
 " How's this ? " said Hugh. " What do you talk 
 of, master ? Who was it set me on ? " 
 
 " Who ? " said Mr. Chester, wheeling sharply 
 round, and looking full at him for the first time. 
 " I didn't hear you. Who was it ? " 
 
 Hugh faltered, and muttered something which 
 was not audible. 
 
 " Who was it ? I am curious to know," said Mr. 
 Chester with surpassing affability. " Some rustic 
 beauty, perhaps ? But be cautious, my good friend. 
 They are not always to be trusted. Do take my 
 advice now, and be careful of yourself." With 
 these words he turned to the glass again, and went 
 on with his toilet. 
 
 Hugh would have answered him that he, the ques-
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 267 
 
 tioner himself, had. set him on, but the words stuck 
 in his throat. The consummate art with which his 
 patron had led him to this point, and managed the 
 whole conversation, perfectly baffled him. He did 
 not doubt that if he had made the retort which was 
 on his lips when Mr. Chester turned round and ques- 
 tioned him so keenly, he would straightway have 
 given him into custody, and had him dragged before 
 a justice with the stolen property upon him ; in 
 which case it was as certain he would have been 
 hung as it was that he had been born. The ascend- 
 ency which it was the purpose of the man of the 
 world to establish over this savage instrument was 
 gained from that time. Hugh's submission was 
 complete. He dreaded him beyond description ; 
 and felt that accident and artifice had spun a web 
 about him which, at a touch from such a master 
 hand as his, would bind him to the gallows. 
 
 With these thoughts passing through his mind, 
 and yet wondering at the very same time how he, 
 who came there rioting in the confidence of this 
 man (as he thought), should be so soon and so thor- 
 oughly subdued, Hugh stood cowering before him, 
 regarding him uneasily from time to time, while he 
 finished dressing. AVhen he had done so, he took 
 up the letter, broke the seal, and throwing himself 
 back in his chair, read it leisurely through. 
 
 " Very neatly worded, upon my life ! Quite a 
 woman's letter, full of what people call tenderness, 
 and disinterestedness, and heart, and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 As he spoke, he twisted it up, and glancing lazily 
 round at Hugh as though he would say, " You see 
 this ? " held it in the flame of the candle. When it
 
 268 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 was in a full blaze, he tossed it into the grate, and 
 there it smouldered away. 
 
 " It was directed to my son," he said, turning to 
 Hugh, " and you did quite right to bring it here. I 
 opened it on my own responsibility, and you see 
 what I have done with it. Take this for your 
 trouble." 
 
 Hugh stepped forward to receive the piece of 
 money he held out to him. As he put it in his 
 hand he added, — 
 
 " If you should happen to find anything else of 
 this sort, or to pick up any kind of information you 
 may think I would like to have, bring it here, will 
 you, my good fellow ? " 
 
 This was said with a smile which implied — or 
 Hugh thought it did — "Fail to do so at your 
 peril!" He answered that he would. 
 
 " And don't," said his patron with an air of the 
 very kindest patronage, "don't be at all downcast 
 or uneasy respecting that little rashness we have 
 been speaking of. Your neck is as safe in my 
 hands, my good fellow, as though a baby's fingers 
 clasped it, I assure you. — Take another glass. 
 You are quieter now." 
 
 Hugh accepted it from his hand, and looking stealth- 
 ily at his smiling face, drank the contents in silence. 
 
 "Don't you — ha, ha! — don't you drink to the 
 drink any more?" said Mr. Chester in his most 
 winning manner. 
 
 " To you, sir," was the sullen answer, with some- 
 thing approaching to a bow. " I drink to you." 
 
 " Thank you. God bless you. By the by, what 
 is your name, my good soul ? You are called Hugh, 
 I know, of course. Your other name ? "
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 269 
 
 " I have no other name." 
 
 " A very strange fellow ! Do you mean that you 
 never knew one, or that you don't choose to tell it ? 
 Which ? " 
 
 " I'd tell it if I could," said Hugh quickly. " I 
 can't. I have been always called Hugh; nothing 
 more. I never knew, nor saw, nor thought about a 
 father ; and I was a boy of six — that's not very old 
 — when they hung my mother up at Tyburn for a 
 couple of thousand men to stare at. They might 
 have let her live. She was poor enough." 
 
 "How very sad!" exclaimed his patron with a 
 condescending smile. " I have no doubt she was an 
 exceedingly fine woman." 
 
 " You see that dog of mine ? " said Hugh 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Faithful, I dare say ? " rejoined his patron, look- 
 ing at him through his glass ; " and immensely 
 clever ? Virtuous and gifted animals, whether man 
 or beast, always are so very hideous." 
 
 " Such a dog as that, and one of the same breed, 
 was the only living thing except me that howled 
 that day," said Hugh. " Out of the two thousand 
 odd — there was a larger crowd for its being a woman 
 — the dog and I alone had any pity. If he'd been 
 a man, he'd have been glad to be quit of her, for she 
 had been forced to keep him lean and half starved ; 
 but being a dog, and not having a man's sense, he 
 was sorry." 
 
 "It was dull of the brute, certainly," said Mr. 
 Chester, " and very like a brute." 
 
 Hugh made no rejoinder, but whistling to his dog, 
 who sprung up at the sound, and came jumping and 
 sporting about him, bade his sympathizing friend 
 good-night.
 
 270 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Good-night," he returned. " Remember ; you're 
 safe with me — quite safe. So long as you deserve 
 it, my good fellow, as I hope you always will, you 
 have a friend in me, on whose silence you may rely. 
 Now do be careful of yourself, pray do, and consider 
 what jeopardy you might have stood in. Good- 
 night. Bless you ! " 
 
 Hugh truckled before the hidden meaning of these 
 words as much as such a being could, and crept out 
 of the door so submissively and subserviently — 
 with an air, in short, so different from that with 
 which he had entered — that his patron, on being 
 left alone, smiled more than ever. 
 
 " And yet," he said as he took a pinch of snuff, 
 " I do not like their having hanged his mother. 
 The fellow has a fine eye, and I am sure she was 
 handsome. But very probably she was coarse — 
 red-nosed perhaps, and had clumsy feet. Ay, it 
 was all for the best, no doubt." 
 
 With this comforting reflection, he put on his 
 coat, took a farewell glance at the glass, and sum- 
 moned his man, who promptly attended, followed 
 by a chair and its two bearers. 
 
 "Foh!" said Mr. Chester. "The very atmos- 
 phere that centaur has breathed seems tainted with 
 the cart and ladder. Here, Peak. Bring some scent 
 and sprinkle the floor ; and take away the chair he 
 sat upon and air it ; and dash a little of that mix- 
 ture upon me. I am stifled ! " 
 
 The man obeyed ; and the room and its master 
 being both purified, nothing remained for Mr. 
 Chester but to demand his hat, to fold it jauntily 
 under his arm, to take his seat in the chair, and be 
 carried off ; humming a fashionable tune.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How the accomplished gentleman spent the even- 
 ing in the midst of a dazzling and brilliant circle ; 
 how he enchanted all those with whom he mingled 
 by the grace of his deportment, the politeness of his 
 manner, the vivacity of his conversation, and the 
 sweetness of his voice ; how it was observed in 
 every corner, that Chester was a man of that 
 happy disposition that nothing ruffled him, that 
 he was one on whom the world's cares and errors 
 sat lightly as his dress, and in whose smiling face a 
 calm and tranquil mind was constantly reflected ; 
 how honest men, who by instinct knew him better, 
 bowed down before him nevertheless, deferred to 
 his every word, and courted his favorable notice ; 
 how people, who really had good in them, went 
 with the stream, and fawned and flattered, and 
 approved, and despised themselves while they did 
 so, and yet had not the courage to resist ; how, in 
 short, he was one of those who are received and 
 cherished in society (as the phrase is) by scores 
 who individually would shrink from and be re- 
 pelled by the object of their lavish regard; are 
 things of course, which will suggest themselves. 
 Matter so commonplace needs but a passing glance, 
 and there an end. 
 
 271
 
 272 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 The despisers of mankind — apart from the mere 
 fools and mimics, of that creed — are of two sorts. 
 They who believe their merit neglected and unap- 
 preciated make up one class ; they who receive 
 adulation and flattery, knowing their own worth- 
 lessness, compose the other. Be sure that the 
 coldest-hearted misanthropes are ever of this last 
 order. 
 
 Mr. Chester sat up in bed next morning, sipping 
 his coffee, and remembering with a kind of con- 
 temptuous satisfaction how he had shone last night, 
 and how he had been caressed and courted, when 
 his servant brought in a very small scrap of dirty 
 paper, tightly sealed in two places, on the inside 
 whereof was inscribed, in pretty large text, these 
 words : " A friend. Desiring of a conference. Im- 
 mediate. Private. Burn it when you've read it." 
 
 " Where in the name of the Gunpowder Plot did 
 you pick up this ? " said his master. 
 
 It was given him by a person then waiting at the 
 door, the man replied. 
 
 " With a cloak and dagger ? " said Mr. Chester. 
 
 With nothing more threatening about him, it 
 appeared, than a leather apron and a dirty face. 
 " Let him come in." In he came — Mr. Tappertit ; 
 with his hair still on end, and a great lock in his 
 hand, which he put down on the floor in the middle 
 of the chamber, as if he were about to go through 
 some performances in which it was a necessary 
 agent. 
 
 "Sir," said Mr. Tappertit with a low bow, "I 
 thank you for this condescension, and am glad to 
 see you. Pardon the menial office in which I am 
 engaged, sir, and extend your sympathies to one
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 273 
 
 who, humble as his appearance is, has inn'ard work- 
 ings far above his station." 
 
 Mr. Chester held the bed-curtain farther back, 
 and looked at him with a vague impression that he 
 was some maniac, who had not only broken open 
 the door of his place of confinement, but had 
 brought away the lock. Mr. Tappertit bowed 
 again, and displayed his legs to the best advan- 
 tage. 
 
 " You have heard, sir," said Mr. Tappertit, laying 
 his hand upon his breast, "of G. Varden Locksmith 
 and Bell-hanger and repairs neatly executed in town 
 and country, Clerkenwell, London ? " 
 
 " What then ? " asked Mr. Chester. 
 
 " I am his 'prentice, sir." 
 
 « What then ? " 
 
 " Ahem ! " said Mr. Tappertit. " Would you per- 
 mit me to shut the door, sir, and will you further, 
 sir, give me your honor bright that what passes 
 between us is in the strictest confidence ? " 
 
 Mr. Chester laid himself calmly down in bed again, 
 and turning a perfectly undisturbed face towards the 
 strange apparition, which had by this time closed 
 the door, begged him to speak out, and to be as 
 rational as he could, without putting himself to any 
 very great personal inconvenience. 
 
 " In the first place, sir," said Mr. Tappertit, produ- 
 cing a small pocket-handkerchief, and shaking it out 
 of the folds, "as I have not a card about me (for 
 the envy of masters debases us below that level), 
 allow me to offer the best substitute that circum- 
 stances will admit of. If you will take that in 
 your own hand, sir, and cast your eye on the right- 
 hand corner," said Mr. Tappertit, offering it with 
 
 VOL. I.-18.
 
 274 BAKNABY RUDGE. 
 
 a graceful air, "you will meet with my creden- 
 tials." 
 
 "Thank you," answered Mr. Chester, politely 
 accepting, and turning to some blood-red charac- 
 ters at one end. " ' Four. Simon Tappertit. One.' 
 Is that the — " 
 
 "Without the numbers, sir, that is my name," 
 replied the 'prentice. " They are merely intended 
 as directions to the washerwoman, and have no con- 
 nection with myself or family. Your name, sir," 
 said Mr. Tappertit, looking very hard at his night- 
 cap, " is Chester, I suppose ? You needn't pull it 
 off, sir, thank you. I observe E. C. from here. We 
 will take the rest for granted." 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Tappertit," said Mr. Chester, " has 
 that complicated piece of ironmongery which you 
 have done me the favor to bring with you, any 
 immediate connection with the business we are to 
 discuss ? " 
 
 "It has not, sir," rejoined the 'prentice. "It's 
 going to be fitted on a ware'us door in Thames 
 Street." 
 
 "Perhaps, as that is the case," said Mr. Chester, 
 " and as it has a stronger flavor of oil than I usually 
 refresh my bedroom with, you will oblige me so far 
 as to put it outside the door ? " 
 
 " By all means, sir." said Mr. Tappertit, suiting 
 the action to the word. 
 
 " You'll excuse my mentioning it, I hope ? " 
 
 "Don't apologize, sir, I beg. And now, if you 
 please, to business." 
 
 During the whole of this dialogue Mr. Chester 
 had suffered nothing but his smile of unvarying 
 serenity and politeness to appear upon his face.
 
 BARNABY RTTDGE. 275 
 
 Sim Tappertit, who had far too good an opinion of 
 himself to suspect that anybody could be playing 
 upon him, thought within himself that this was 
 something like the respect to which he was en- 
 titled, and drew a comparison, from this courteous 
 demeanor of a stranger, by no means favorable to 
 the worthy locksmith. 
 
 " From what passes in our house," said Mr. Tap- 
 pertit, " I am aware, sir, that your son keeps com- 
 pany with a young lady against your inclinations. 
 Sir, your son has not used me well." 
 
 " Mr. Tappertit," said the other, " you grieve me 
 beyond description." 
 
 "Thank yon, sir," replied the 'prentice. "I'm 
 glad to hear you say so. He's very proud, sir, is 
 your son ; very haughty." 
 
 "I am afraid he is haughty," said Mr. Chester. 
 " Do you know, I was really afraid of that before ; 
 and you confirm me." 
 
 " To recount the menial offices I've had to do for 
 your son, sir," said Mr. Tappertit ; " the chairs I've 
 had to hand him, the coaches I've had to call for 
 him ; the numerous degrading duties, wholly uncon- 
 nected with my indenters, that I've had to do for 
 him, would fill a family Bible. Besides which, sir, 
 he is but a young man himself, and I do not con- 
 sider 'Thankee, Sim,' a proper form of address on 
 those occasions." 
 
 "Mr. Tappertit, your wisdom is beyond your 
 years. Pray go on." 
 
 "I thank you for your good opinion, sir," said 
 Sim, much gratified, "and will endeavor so to do. 
 Now, sir, on this account (and perhaps for another 
 reason or two which I needn't go into), I am on
 
 276 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 your side. And what I tell you is this — that as 
 long as our people go backwards and forwards, to 
 and fro, up and down, to that there jolly old May- 
 pole, lettering and messaging, and fetching and car- 
 rying, you couldn't help your son keeping company 
 with that young lady by deputy, — not if he was 
 minded night and day by all the Horse Guards, and 
 every man of 'em in the very fullest uniform." 
 
 Mr. Tappertit stopped to take breath after this, 
 and then started fresh again. 
 
 " Now, sir, I am a-coming to the point. You will 
 inquire of me, ' How is this to be prevented ? ' I'll 
 tell you how. If an honest, civil, smiling gentle- 
 man like you — " 
 
 " Mr. Tappertit — really — " 
 
 " No, no, I'm serious," rejoined the 'prentice ; " I 
 am, upon my soul. If an honest, civil, smiling gen- 
 tleman like you was to talk but ten minutes to our 
 old woman — that's Mrs. Varden — and flatter her 
 up a bit, you'd gain her over forever. Then 
 there's this point got — that her daughter Dolly " 
 — here a flush came over Mr. Tappertit's face — 
 "wouldn't be allowed to be a go-between from that 
 time forward ; and till that point's got, there's noth- 
 ing ever will prevent her. Mind that." 
 
 " Mr. Tappertit, your knowledge of human na- 
 ture — " 
 
 " Wait a minute," said Sim, folding his arms with 
 a dreadful calmness. " Now I come to the point. 
 Sir, there is a villain at that Maypole, a monster in 
 human shape, a vagabond of the deepest dye, that 
 unless you get rid of, and have kidnapped and car- 
 ried off at the very least — nothing less will do — 
 will marry your son to that young woman, as cer-
 
 BARNABY RTTDGE. 277 
 
 tainly and surely as if he was the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury himself. He will, sir, for the hatred 
 and malice that he bears to you; let alone the 
 pleasure of doing a bad action, which to him is its 
 own reward. If you knew how this chap, this 
 Joseph Willet — that's his name — comes back- 
 wards and forwards to our house, libelling and de- 
 nouncing, and threatening you, and how I shudder 
 when I hear him, you'd hate him worse than I do 
 — worse than I do, sir," said Mr. Tappertit wildly, 
 putting his hair up straighter, and making a crunch- 
 ing noise with his teeth ; " if sich a thing is pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " A little private vengeance in this, Mr. Tapper- 
 tit ? " 
 
 " Private vengeance, sir, or public sentiment, or 
 both combined — destroy him," said Mr. Tappertit. 
 " Miggs says so too. Miggs and me both say so. 
 We can't bear the plotting and undermining that 
 takes place. Our souls recoil from it. Barnaby 
 Rudge and Mrs. Rudge are in it likewise ; but the 
 villain, Joseph Willet, is the ringleader. Their 
 plottings and schemes are known to me and Miggs. 
 If you want information of 'em, apply to us. Put 
 Joseph Willet down, sir. Destroy him. Crush 
 him. And be happy." 
 
 With these words, Mr. Tappertit, who seemed to 
 expect no reply, and to hold it as a necessary conse- 
 quence of his eloquence that his hearer should be 
 utterly stunned, dumfoundered, and overwhelmed, 
 folded his arms so that the palm of each hand 
 rested on the opposite shoulder, and disappeared 
 after the manner of those mysterious warners of 
 whom he had read in cheap story-books.
 
 278 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " That fellow," said Mr. Chester, relaxing his face 
 when he was fairly gone, " is good practice. I have 
 some command of my features, beyond all doubt. 
 He fully confirms what I suspected, though ; and 
 blunt tools are sometimes found of use, where 
 sharper instruments would fail. I fear I may be 
 obliged to make great havoc among these worthy peo- 
 ple. A troublesome necessity ! I quite feel for 
 them." 
 
 With that he fell into a quiet slumber : — subsided 
 into such a gentle, pleasant sleep, that it was quite 
 infantine.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Leaving the favored, and well-received, and flat- 
 tered of the world; him of the world most worldly, 
 who never compromised himself by an ungentle- 
 manly action, and never was guilty of a manly one ; 
 to lie smilingly asleep — for even sleep, working 
 but little change in his dissembling face, became 
 with him a piece of cold, conventional hypocrisy — 
 we follow in the steps of two slow travellers on 
 foot, making towards Chigwell. 
 
 Barnaby and his mother. Grip in their company, 
 of course. 
 
 The widow, to whom each painful mile seemed 
 longer than the last, toiled wearily along; while 
 Barnaby, yielding to every inconstant impulse, flut- 
 tered here and there, now leaving her far behind, 
 now lingering far behind himself, now darting into 
 some by -lane or path and leaving her to pursue her 
 way alone, until he stealthily emerged again and 
 came upon her with a wild shout of merriment, as 
 his wayward and capricious nature prompted. Now 
 he would call to her from the topmost branch of 
 some high tree by the roadside ; now, using his tall 
 staff as a leaping-pole, come flying over ditch or 
 hedge or five-barred gate ; now run with surprising 
 swiftness for a mile or more on the straight road, 
 
 279
 
 280 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 and halting, sport upon a patch of grass with Grip 
 till she came up. These were his delights ; and 
 when his patient mother heard his merry voice, or 
 looked into his flushed and healthy face, she would 
 not have abated them by one sad word or murmur, 
 though each had been to her a source of suffering 
 in the same degree as it was to him of pleasure. 
 
 It is something to look upon enjoyment, so that 
 it be free and wild and in the face of nature, though 
 it is but the enjoyment of an idiot. It is something 
 to know that heaven has left the capacity of glad- 
 ness in such a creature's breast ; it is something to 
 be assured that, however lightly men may crush 
 that faculty in their fellows, the Great Creator of 
 mankind imparts it even to his despised and 
 slighted work. Who would not rather see a poor 
 idiot happy in the sunlight than a wise man pining 
 in a darkened jail ? 
 
 Ye men of gloom and austerity, who paint the 
 face of Infinite Benevolence with an eternal frown, 
 read in the Everlasting Book, wide open to your 
 view, the lesson it would teach. Its pictures are 
 not in black and sombre hues, but bright and glow- 
 ing tints ; its music — save when ye drown it — is 
 not in sighs and groans, but songs and cheerful 
 sounds. Listen to the million voices in the summer 
 air, and find one dismal as your own. Remember, 
 if ye can, the sense of hope and pleasure which 
 every glad return of day awakens in the breast of 
 all your kind who have not changed their nature ; 
 and learn some wisdom even from the witless, when 
 their hearts are lifted up, they know not why, by 
 all the mirth and happiness it brings. 
 
 The widow's breast was full of care, was laden
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 281 
 
 heavily with secret dread and sorrow ; but her boy's 
 gayety of heart gladdened her, and beguiled the 
 long journey. Sometimes he would bid her lean 
 upon his arm, and would keep beside her steadily 
 for a short distance ; but it was more his nature to 
 be rambling to and fro, and she better liked to see 
 him free and happy, even than to have him near 
 her, because she loved him better than herself. 
 
 She had quitted the place to which they were 
 travelling directly after the event which had 
 changed her whole existence ; and for two and 
 twenty years had never had courage to revisit it. 
 It was her native village. How many recollections 
 crowded on her mind when it appeared in sight ! 
 
 Two and twenty years. Her boy's whole life and 
 history. The last time she looked back upon those 
 roofs among the trees, she carried him in her arms, 
 an infant. How often since that time had she sat 
 beside him night and day, watching for the dawn of 
 mind that never came ; how had she feared, and 
 doubted, and yet hoped, long after conviction forced 
 itself upon her ! The little stratagems she had de- 
 vised to try him, the little tokens he had given in 
 his childish way — not of dulness, but of something 
 infinitely worse, so ghastly and unchildlike in its 
 cunning — came back as vividly as if but yesterday 
 had intervened. The room in which they used to 
 be ; the spot in which his cradle stood ; he old and 
 elfin-like in face, but ever dear to her, gazing at her 
 with a wild and vacant eye, and crooning some un- 
 couth song as she sat by and rocked him ; every cir- 
 cumstance of his infancy came thronging back, and 
 the most trivial, perhaps, the most distinctly. 
 
 His older childhood, too ; the strange imaginings
 
 282 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 he had; his terror of certain senseless things — 
 familiar objects he endowed with life ; the slow and 
 gradual breaking-out of that one horror in which, 
 before his birth, his darkened intellect began ; how, 
 in the midst of all, she had found some hope and 
 comfort in his being unlike another child, and had 
 gone on almost believing in the slow development 
 of his mind until he grew a man, and then his child- 
 hood was complete and lasting ; one after another, 
 all these old thoughts sprung up within her, strong 
 after their long slumber, and bitterer than ever. 
 
 She took his arm, and they hurried through the 
 village street. It was the same as it was wont to 
 be in old times, yet different too, and wore another 
 air. The change was in herself, not it ; but she 
 never thought of that, and wondered at its altera- 
 tion, and where it lay, and what it was. 
 
 The people all knew Barnaby, and the children of 
 the place came flocking round him — as she remem- 
 bered to have done with their fathers and mothers, 
 round some silly beggarman, when a child herself. 
 None of them knew her; they passed each well- 
 remembered house, and yard, and homestead; and 
 striking into the fields, were soon alone again. 
 
 The Warren was the end of their journey. Mr. 
 Haredale was walking in the garden, and seeing 
 them as they passed the iron gate, unlocked it, and 
 bade them enter that way. 
 
 " At length you have mustered heart to visit the 
 old place," he said to the widow. " I am glad you 
 have." 
 
 " For the first time, and the last, sir," she replied. 
 
 " The first for many years, but not the last ? " 
 
 "The very last."
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 283 
 
 " You mean," said Mr. Haredale, regarding her 
 with some surprise, " that having made this effort, 
 you are resolved not to persevere, and are deter- 
 mined to relapse ? This is unworthy of you. I 
 have often told you, you should return here. You 
 would be happier here than elsewhere, I know. As 
 to Barnaby, it's quite his home." 
 
 " And Grip's," said Barnaby, holding the basket 
 open. The raven hopped gravely out, and perching 
 on his shoulder and addressing himself to Mr. Hare- 
 dale, cried — as a hint, perhaps, that some temperate 
 refreshment would be acceptable — " Polly put the 
 ket-tle on, we'll all have tea ! " 
 
 "Hear me, Mary," said Mr. Haredale kindly, as 
 he motioned her to walk with him towards the 
 house. " Your life has been an example of patience 
 and fortitude, except in this one particular, which 
 has often given me great pain. It is enough to 
 know that you were cruelly involved in the calamity 
 which deprived me of an only brother, and Emma 
 of her father, without being obliged to suppose (as 
 I sometimes am) that you associate us with the 
 author of our joint misfortunes." 
 
 " Associate you with him, sir ! " she cried. 
 
 "Indeed," said Mr. Haredale, "I think you do. 
 I almost believe that because your husband was 
 bound by so many ties to our relation, and died in 
 his service and defence, you have come in some sort 
 to connect us with his murder." 
 
 " Alas ! " she answered. " You little know my 
 heart, sir. You little know the truth ! " 
 
 " It is natural you should do so ; it is very prob- 
 able you may, without being conscious of it," said 
 Mr. Haredale, speaking more to himself than her.
 
 284 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 "We are a fallen house. Money, dispensed with 
 the most lavish hand, would be a poor recompense 
 for sufferings like yours ; and thinly scattered by 
 hands so pinched and tied as ours, it becomes a 
 miserable mockery. I feel it so, God knows," he 
 added hastily. " Why should I wonder if she 
 does ? " 
 
 " You do me wrong, dear sir, indeed," she rejoined 
 with great earnestness ; " and yet, when you come 
 to hear what I desire your leave to say — " 
 
 " I shall find my doubts confirmed ? " he said, 
 observing that she faltered and became confused. 
 " Well ? " 
 
 He quickened his pace for a few steps, but fell 
 back again to her side, and said, — 
 
 " And have you come all this way at last, solely 
 to speak to me ? " 
 
 She answered, "Yes." 
 
 " A curse," he muttered, " upon the wretched state 
 of us proud beggars, from whom the poor and rich 
 are equally at a distance ; the one being forced to 
 treat us with a show of cold respect ; the other con- 
 descending to us in their every deed and word, and 
 keeping more aloof the nearer they approach us ! — 
 Why, if it were pain to you (as it must have been) 
 to break for this slight purpose the chain of habit 
 forged through two and twenty years, could you not 
 let me know your wish, and beg me to come to you ? " 
 
 "There was not time, sir," she rejoined. "I took 
 my resolution but last night, and taking it, felt that 
 I must not lose a day — a day ! an hour — in having 
 speech with you." 
 
 They had by this time reached the house. Mr. 
 Haredale paused for a moment, and looked at her as
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 285 
 
 if surprised by the energy of her manner. Observ- 
 ing, however, that she took no heed of him, but 
 glanced up, shuddering, at the old walls with which 
 such horrors were connected in her mind, he led her 
 by a private stair into his library, where Emma was 
 seated in a window, reading. 
 
 The young lady, seeing who approached, hastily 
 rose and laid aside her book, and with many kind 
 words, and not without tears, gave her a warm and 
 earnest welcome. But the widow shrunk from her 
 embrace as though she feared her, and sunk down 
 trembling on a chair. 
 
 " It is the return to this place after so long an 
 absence," said Emma gently. " Pray ring, dear 
 uncle — or stay — Barnaby will run himself and ask 
 for wine — " 
 
 "Not for the world," she cried. " It would have 
 another taste — I could not touch it. I want but a 
 minute's rest. Nothing but that." 
 
 Miss Haredale stood beside her chair, regarding 
 her with silent pity. She remained for a little time 
 quite still ; then rose and turned to Mr. Haredale, 
 who had sat down in his easy-cbair, and was con- 
 templating her with fixed attention. 
 
 The tale connected with the mansion borne in 
 mind, it seemed, as has been already said, the chosen 
 theatre for such a deed as it had known. The room 
 in which this group were now assembled — hard by 
 the very chamber where the act was done — dull, 
 dark, and sombre ; heavy with worm-eaten books ; 
 deadened and shut in by faded hangings, muffling 
 every sound ; shadowed mournfully by trees whose 
 rustling boughs gave ever and anon a spectral knock- 
 ing at the glass ; wore, beyond all others in the
 
 286 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 house, a ghostly, gloomy air. Nor were the group 
 assembled there unfitting tenants of the spot. The 
 widow, with her marked and startling face and 
 downcast eyes ; Mr. Haredale, stern and despondent 
 ever; his niece beside him, like, yet most unlike, 
 the picture of her father, which gazed reproachfully 
 down upon them from the blackened Avail ; Barnaby, 
 with his vacant look and restless eye ; were all in 
 keeping with the place, and actors in the legend. 
 Nay, the very raven, who had hopped upon the 
 table, and with the air of some old necromancer 
 appeared to be profoundly studying a- great folio 
 volume that lay open on a desk, was strictly in 
 unison with the rest, and looked like the embodied 
 spirit of evil biding his time of mischief. 
 
 " I scarcely know," said the widow, breaking 
 silence, "how to begin. You will think my mind 
 disordered." 
 
 " The whole tenor of your quiet and reproachless 
 life since you were last here," returned Mr. Hare- 
 dale mildly, " shall bear witness for you. Why do 
 you fear to awaken such a suspicion ? You do not 
 speak to strangers. You have not to claim our in- 
 terest or consideration for the first time. Be more 
 yourself. Take heart. Any advice or assistance 
 that I can give you, you know is yours of right, and 
 freely yours." 
 
 " What if I came, sir," she rejoined, " I who have 
 but one other friend on earth, to reject your aid 
 from this moment, and to say that henceforth I 
 launch myself upon the world alone and unassisted, 
 to sink or swim as Heaven may decree ? " 
 
 " You would have, if you came to me for such a 
 purpose," said Mr. Haredale calmly, "some reason
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 287 
 
 to assign for conduct so extraordinary, -which — if 
 one may entertain the possibility of anything so 
 wild and strange — would have its weight, of 
 course." 
 
 " That, sir," she answered, " is the misery of my 
 distress. I can give no reason whatever. My own 
 bare word is all that I can offer. It is my duty, my 
 imperative and bounden duty. If I did not discharge 
 it, I should be a base and guilty wretch. Having 
 said that, my lips are sealed, and I can say no 
 more." 
 
 As though she felt relieved at having said so 
 much, and had nerved herself to the remainder of 
 her task, she spoke from this time with a firmer 
 voice and heightened courage. 
 
 " Heaven is my witness, as my own heart is — 
 and yours, dear young lady, will speak for me, I 
 know — that I have lived, since that time we have 
 all bitter reason to remember, in unchanging devo- 
 tion and gratitude to this family. Heaven is my 
 witness that, go where I may, I shall preserve those 
 feelings unimpaired. And it is my witness, too, 
 that they alone impel me to the course I must take, 
 and from which nothing now shall turn me, as I 
 hope for mercy." 
 
 " These are strange riddles," said Mr. Haredale. 
 
 " In this world, sir," she replied, " they may, per- 
 haps, never be explained. In another, the Truth 
 will be discovered in its own good time. And may 
 that time," she added in a low voice, " be far dis- 
 tant ! " 
 
 " Let me be sure," said Mr. Haredale, " that I un- 
 derstand you, for I am doubtful of my own senses. 
 Do you mean that you are resolved voluntarily to
 
 288 BAKNABY BUDGE. 
 
 deprive yourself of those means of support you have 
 received from us so long — that you are determined 
 to resign the annuity we settled on you twenty 
 years ago — to leave house, and home, and goods, 
 and begin life anew — and this for some secret rea- 
 son or monstrous fancy which is incapable of expla- 
 nation, which only now exists, and has been dormant 
 all this time ? In the name of God, under what 
 delusion are you laboring ? " 
 
 "As I am deeply thankful," she made answer, 
 " for the kindness of those, alive and dead, who 
 have owned this house ; and as I would not have its 
 roof fall down and crush me, or its very walls drip 
 blood, my name being spoken in their hearing; I 
 never will again subsist upon their bounty, or let it 
 help me to subsistence. You do not know," she 
 added suddenly, " to what uses it may be applied ; 
 into what hands it may pass. I do, and I renounce 
 it." 
 
 " Surely," said Mr. Haredale, " its uses rest with 
 you." 
 
 "They did. They rest with me no longer. It 
 may be — it is — devoted to purposes that mock the 
 dead in their graves. It never can prosper with me. 
 It will bring some other heavy judgment on the 
 head of my dear son, whose innocence will suffer 
 for his mother's guilt." 
 
 " What words are these ? " cried Mr. Haredale, 
 regarding her with wonder. " Among what asso- 
 ciates have you fallen ? Into what guilt have you 
 ever been betrayed ? " 
 
 " I am guilty, and yet innocent ; wrong, yet right ; 
 good in intention, though constrained to shield and 
 aid the bad. Ask me no more questions, sir ; but
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 289 
 
 believe that I am rather to be pitied than con- 
 demned. I must leave my house to-morrow, for 
 while I stay there, it is haunted. My future dwell- 
 ing, if I am to live in peace, must be a secret. If 
 my poor boy should ever stray this way, do not 
 tempt him to disclose it, or have him watched when 
 he returns ; for if we are hunted, we must fly again. 
 And now this load is off my mind, I beseech you — 
 and you, dear Miss Haredale, too — to trust me if 
 you can, and think of me kindly as you have been 
 used to do. If I die, and cannot tell my secret even 
 then (for that may come to pass), it will sit the 
 lighter on my breast in that hour for this day's 
 work ; and on that day, and every day until it 
 comes, I will pray for and thank you both, and 
 trouble you no more." 
 
 With that she would have left them, but they 
 detained her, and with many soothing words and 
 kind entreaties besought her to consider what she 
 did, and above all to repose more freely upon them, 
 and say what weighed so sorely on her mind. Find- 
 ing her deaf to their persuasions, Mr. Haredale sug- 
 gested, as a last resource, that she should confide in 
 Emma, of whom, as a youug person, and one of her 
 own sex, she might stand in less dread than of him- 
 self. From this proposal, however, she recoiled with 
 the same indescribable repugnance she had mani- 
 fested when they met. The utmost that could be 
 wrung from her was a promise that she would re- 
 ceive Mr. Haredale at her own house next evening, 
 and in the mean time reconsider her determination 
 and their dissuasions — though any change on her 
 part, as she told them, was quite hopeless. This 
 condition made at last, they reluctantly suffered her 
 vol. i. -19.
 
 290 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 to depart, since she would neither eat nor drink 
 within the house ; and she, and Barnaby, and Grip 
 accordingly went out as they had come, by the pri- 
 vate stair and garden-gate; seeing and being seen 
 of no one by the way. 
 
 It was remarkable in the raven that during the 
 whole interview he had kept his eye on his book 
 with exactly the air of a very sly human rascal, who, 
 under the mask of pretending to read hard, was 
 listening to everything. He still appeared to have 
 the conversation very strongly in his mind, for al- 
 though, when they were alone again, he issued 
 orders for the instant preparation of innumerable 
 kettles for purposes of tea, he was thoughtful, and 
 rather seemed to do so from an abstract sense of 
 duty than with any regard to making himself agree- 
 able, or being what is commonly called good com- 
 pany. 
 
 They were to return by the coach. As there was 
 an interval of full two hours before it started, and 
 they needed rest and some refreshment, Barnaby 
 begged hard for a visit to the Maypole. But his 
 mother, who had no wish to be recognized by any of 
 those who had known her long ago, and who feared, 
 besides, that Mr. Haredaie might, on second thoughts, 
 despatch some messenger to that place of entertain- 
 ment in quest of her, proposed to wait in the church- 
 yard instead. As it was easy for Barnaby to buy 
 and carry thither such humble viands as they re- 
 quired, he cheerfully assented, and in the church- 
 yard they sat down to take their frugal dinner. 
 
 Here, again, the raven was in a highly reflective 
 state ; walking up and down, when he had dined, with 
 an air of elderly complacency which was strongly
 
 BARNABY EUDGE. 291 
 
 suggestive of his having his hands under his coat- 
 tails ; and appearing to read the tombstones with a 
 very critical taste. Sometimes, after a long inspec- 
 tion of an epitaph, he would strop his beak upon 
 the grave to which it referred, and cry in his hoarse 
 tones, " I'm a devil, I'm a devil, I'm a devil ! " but 
 whether he addressed his observations to any sup- 
 posed person below, or merely threw them off as a 
 general remark, is matter of uncertainty. 
 
 It was a quiet pretty spot, but a sad one for 
 Barnaby's mother; for Mr. Reuben Haredale lay 
 there, and near the vault in which his ashes rested 
 was a stone to the memory of her own husband, with 
 a brief inscription recording how and when he had 
 lost his life. She sat here, thoughtful and apart, 
 until their time was out, and the distant horn told 
 that the coach was coming. 
 
 Barnaby, who had been sleeping on the grass, 
 sprung up quickly at the sound ; and Grip, who 
 appeared to understand it equally well, walked into 
 his basket straightway, entreating society in gen- 
 eral (as though he intended a kind of satire upon 
 them in connection with churchyards) never to say 
 die on any terms. They were soon on the coach-top 
 and rolling along the road. 
 
 It went round by the Maypole, and stopped at the 
 door. Joe was from home, and Hugh came slug- 
 gishly out to hand up the parcel that it called for. 
 There was no fear of old John coming out. They 
 could see him from the coach roof fast asleep in his 
 cosey bar. It was a part of John's character. He 
 made a point of going to sleep at the coach's time. 
 He despised gadding about ; he looked upon coaches 
 as things that ought to be indicted ; as disturbers of
 
 292 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 the peace of mankind; as restless, bustling, busy, 
 horn-blowing contrivances, quite beneath the dig- 
 nity of men, and only suited to giddy girls that did 
 nothing but chatter and go a shopping. " We know 
 nothing about coaches here, sir," John would say, 
 if any unlucky stranger made inquiry touching the 
 offensive vehicles ; " we don't book for 'em ; we'd 
 rather not ; they're more trouble than they're worth, 
 with their noise and rattle. If you like to wait for 
 'em you can; but we don't know anything about 
 'em ; they may call, and they may not — there's a 
 carrier — he was looked upon as quite good enough 
 for us when / was a boy." 
 
 She dropped her veil as Hugh climbed up, and 
 while he hung behind and talked to Barnaby in 
 whispers. But neither he nor any other person 
 spoke to her, or noticed her, or had any curiosity 
 about her; and so, an alien, she visited and left 
 the village where she had been born, and had lived 
 a merry child, a comely girl, a happy wife — where 
 she had known all her enjoyment of life, and had 
 entered on its hardest sorrows.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 "And you're not surprised to hear this, Var- 
 den?" said Mr. Haredale. "Well! You and she 
 have always been the best friends, and you should 
 understand her, if anybody does." 
 
 " I ask your pardon, sir," rejoined the locksmith. 
 "I didn't say I understood her. I wouldn't have 
 the presumption to say that of any woman. It's 
 not so easily done. But I am not so much surprised, 
 sir, as you expected me to be, certainly." 
 
 " May I ask why not, my good friend ? " 
 
 "I have seen, sir," returned the locksmith with 
 evident reluctance, " I have seen, in connection with 
 her, something that has filled me with distrust and 
 uneasiness. She has made bad friends — how, or 
 when, I don't know ; but that her house is a refuge 
 for one robber and cut-throat, at least, I am certain. 
 There, sir ! Now it's out." 
 
 "Varden!" 
 
 " My own eyes, sir, are my witnesses, and for her 
 sake I would be willingly half blind, if I could but 
 have the pleasure of mistrusting 'em. I have kept 
 the secret till now, and it will go no further than 
 yourself, I know ; but I tell you that with my own 
 eyes — broad awake — I saw, in the passage of her 
 house one evening after dark, the highwayman who 
 
 293
 
 294 BAENABT ETJDGE. 
 
 robbed and wounded Mr. Edward Chester, and on 
 the same night threatened me." 
 
 " And you made no effort to detain him ? " said 
 Mr. Haredale quickly. 
 
 " Sir," returned the locksmith, " she herself pre- 
 vented me — held me with all her strength, and hung 
 about me until he had got clear off." And, having 
 gone so far, he related circumstantially all that had 
 passed upon the night in question. 
 
 This dialogue was held in a low tone in the lock- 
 smith's little parlor, into which honest Gabriel had 
 shown his visitor on his arrival. Mr. Haredale had 
 called upon him to entreat his company to the 
 widow's, that he might have the assistance of his 
 persuasion and influence ; and out of this circum- 
 stance the conversation had arisen. 
 
 "I forbore," said Gabriel, "from repeating one 
 word of this to anybody, as it could do her no good, 
 and might do her great harm. I thought and hoped, 
 to say the truth, that she would come to me, and 
 talk to me about it, and tell me how it was ; but 
 though I have purposely put myself in her way 
 more than once or twice, she has never touched 
 upon the subject — except by a look. And indeed," 
 said the good-natured locksmith, " there was a good 
 deal in the look, more than could have been put into 
 a great many words. It said, among other matters, 
 ' Don't ask me anything,' so imploringly, that I 
 didn't ask her anything You'll think me an old 
 fool I know, sir. If it's any relief to call me one, 
 pray do." 
 
 " I am greatly disturbed by what you tell me," 
 said Mr. Haredale after a silence. " What meaning 
 do you attach to it ? "
 
 BARNABY RtJDGE. 295 
 
 The locksmith shook his head, and looked doubt- 
 fully out of window at the failing light. 
 
 "She cannot have married again," said Mr. Hare- 
 dale. 
 
 " Not without our knowledge surely, sir." 
 
 " She may have done so, in the fear that it would 
 lead, if known, to some objection or estrangement. 
 Suppose she married incautiously — it is not im- 
 probable, for her existence has been a lonely and 
 monotonous one for many years — and the man 
 turned out a ruffian, she would be anxious to screen 
 him, and yet would revolt from his crimes. This 
 might be. It bears strongly on the whole drift of 
 her discourse yesterday, and would quite explain 
 her conduct. Do you suppose Barnaby is privy to 
 these circumstances ? " 
 
 " Quite impossible to say, sir," returned the lock- 
 smith, shaking his head again : " and next to impos- 
 sible to find out from him. If what you suppose is 
 really the case, I tremble for the lad — a notable 
 person, sir, to put to bad uses — " 
 
 " It is not possible, Varden," said Mr. Haredale 
 in a still lower tone of voice than he had spoken 
 yet, "that we have been blinded and deceived by 
 this woman from the beginning ? It is not possible 
 that this connection was formed in her husband's 
 lifetime, and led to his and my brother's — " 
 
 " Good God, sir," cried Gabriel, interrupting him, 
 " don't entertain such dark thoughts for a moment. 
 Five and twenty years ago, where was there a girl 
 like her ? A gay, handsome, laughing, bright-eyed 
 damsel ! Think what she was, sir. It makes my 
 heart ache now, even now, though I'm an old man, 
 with a woman for a daughter, to think what she was
 
 296 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 and what she is. We all change, but that's with 
 Time ; Time does his work honestly, and I don't 
 mind him. A fig for Time, sir. Use him well, and 
 he's a hearty fellow, and scorns to have you at a 
 disadvantage. But care and suffering (and those 
 have changed her) are devils, sir — secret, stealthy, 
 undermining devils — who tread down the bright- 
 est flowers in Eden, and do more havoc in a month 
 than Time does in a year. Picture to yourself for 
 one minute what Mary was before they went to 
 work with her fresh heart and face — do her that 
 justice — and say whether such a thing is possi- 
 ble." 
 
 "You're a good fellow, Varden," said Mr. Hare- 
 dale, " and are quite right. I have brooded on that 
 subject so long, that every breath of suspicion car- 
 ries me back to it. You are quite right." 
 
 " It isn't, sir," cried the locksmith with brightened 
 eyes, and sturdy, honest voice ; " it isn't because I 
 courted her before Budge, and failed, that I say she 
 was too good for him. She would have been as 
 much too good for me. But she was too good for 
 him ; he wasn't free and frank enough for her. I 
 don't reproach his memory with it, poor fellow ; 
 I only want to put her before you as she really 
 was. For myself, I'll keep her old picture in my 
 mind ; and thinking of that, and what has altered 
 her, I'll stand her friend, and try to win her back 
 to peace. And damme, sir," cried Gabriel, "with 
 your pardon for the word, I'd do the same if she 
 had married fifty highwaymen in a twelvemonth; 
 and think it in the Protestant Manual too, though 
 Martha said it wasn't, tooth and nail, till dooms- 
 day ! "
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 297 
 
 If the dark little parlor had been filled with a 
 dense fog, which, clearing away in an instant, left it 
 all radiance and brightness, it could not have been 
 more suddenly cheered than by this outbreak on the 
 part of the hearty locksmith. In a voice nearly as 
 full and round as his own, Mr. Haredale cried " Well 
 said ! " and bade him come away without more 
 parley. The locksmith complied right willingly ; 
 and both getting into a hackney coach which was 
 waiting at the door, drove off straightway. 
 
 They alighted at the street corner, and, dismissing 
 their conveyance, walked to the house. To their 
 first knock at the door there was no response. A 
 second met with the like result. But in answer to 
 the third, which was of a more vigorous kind, the 
 parlor window-sash was gently raised, and a musical 
 voice cried, — 
 
 " Haredale, my dear fellow, I am extremely glad 
 to see you. How very much you have improved in 
 your appearance since our last meeting ! I never 
 saw you looking better. How do you do ? " 
 
 Mr. Haredale turned his eyes towards the case- 
 ment whence the voice proceeded, though there was 
 no need to do so, to recognize the speaker, and Mr. 
 Chester waved his hand, and smiled a courteous 
 welcome. 
 
 " The door will be opened immediately," he said. 
 " There is nobody but a very dilapidated female to 
 perform such offices. You will excuse her infirmi- 
 ties ? If she were in a more elevated station of 
 society, she would be gouty. Being but a hewer of 
 wood and drawer of water, she is rheumatic. My 
 dear Haredale, these are natural class distinctions, 
 depend upon it."
 
 298 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 Mr. Haredale, whose face resumed its lowering 
 and distrustful look the moment he heard the voice, 
 inclined his head stiffly, and turned his back upon 
 the speaker. 
 
 " Not opened yet ! " said Mr. Chester. " Dear 
 me ! I hope the aged soul has not caught her foot 
 in some unlucky cobweb by the way. She is there 
 at last ! Come in, I beg ! " 
 
 Mr. Haredale entered, followed by the locksmith. 
 Turning with a look of great astonishment to the 
 old woman Avho had opened the door, he inquired 
 for Mrs. Rudge — for Barnaby. They were both 
 gone, she replied, wagging her ancient head, for 
 good. There was a gentleman in the parlor, who 
 perhaps could tell them more. That was all she 
 knew. 
 
 "Pray, sir," said Mr. Haredale, presenting him- 
 self before this new tenant, "where is the person 
 whom I came here to see ? " 
 
 " My dear friend," he returned, " I have not the 
 least idea." 
 
 " Your trifling is ill timed," retorted the other 
 in a suppressed tone and voice, " and its subject 
 ill chosen. Reserve it for those who are your 
 friends, and do not expend it on me. I lay no 
 claim to the distinction, and have the self-denial to 
 reject it." 
 
 "My dear, good sir," said Mr. Chester, "you are 
 heated with walking. Sit down, I beg. Our friend 
 is—" 
 
 " Is but a plain honest man," returned Mr. Hare- 
 dale, " and quite unworthy of your notice." 
 
 " Gabriel Varden by name, sir," said the locksmith 
 bluntly.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 299 
 
 " A worthy English yeoman ! " said Mr. Chester. 
 " A most worthy yeoman, of whom I have frequently 
 heard my son Ned — darling fellow — speak, and 
 have often wished to see. Varden, my good friend, 
 I am glad to know you. You wonder now," he said, 
 turning languidly to Mr. Haredale, " to see me here. 
 Now, I am sure you do." 
 
 Mr. Haredale glanced at him — not fondly or 
 admiringly — smiled, and held his peace. 
 
 " The mystery is solved in a moment," said Mr. 
 Chester ; " in a moment. Will you step aside with 
 me one instant ? You remember our little compact 
 in reference to Ned and your dear niece, Haredale ? 
 You remember the list of assistants in their inno- 
 cent intrigue ? You remember these two people 
 being among them ? My dear fellow, congratulate 
 yourself and me. I have bought them off." 
 
 " You have done what ? " said Mr. Haredale. 
 
 " Bought them off," returned his smiling friend. 
 " I have found it necessary to take some active steps 
 towards setting this boy-and-girl attachment quite 
 at rest, and have begun by removing these two 
 agents. You are surprised ? Who can withstand 
 the influence of a little money ? They wanted it, 
 and have been bought off. We have nothing more 
 to fear from them. They are gone." 
 
 " Gone ! " echoed Mr. Haredale. " Where ? " 
 
 "My dear fellow — and you must permit me to 
 say again that you never looked so young ; so posi- 
 tively boyish as you do to-night — the Lord knows 
 where ; I believe Columbus himself wouldn't find 
 them. Between you and me, they have their hidden 
 reasons, but upon that point I have pledged myself 
 to secrecy. She appointed to see you here to-night
 
 300 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 I know, but found it inconvenient, and couldn't 
 wait. Here is the key of the door. I am afraid 
 you'll find it inconveniently large ; but as the tene- 
 ment is yours, your good nature will excuse that, 
 Haredale, I am certain."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Mr. Haredale stood in the widow's parlor with 
 the door-key in his hand, gazing by turns at Mr. 
 Chester and at Gabriel Varden, and occasionally glan- 
 cing downward at the key, as in the hope that of its 
 own accord it would unlock the mystery ; until Mr. 
 Chester, putting on his hat and gloves, and sweetly 
 inquiring whether they were walking in the same 
 direction, recalled him to himself. 
 
 " No," he said. " Our roads diverge — widely, as 
 you know. For the present I shall remain here." 
 
 " You will be hipped, Haredale ; you will be 
 miserable, melancholy, utterly wretched," returned 
 the other. " It's a place of the very last descrip- 
 tion for a man of your temper. I know it will 
 make you very miserable." 
 
 "Let it," said Mr. Haredale, sitting down; "and 
 thrive upon the thought. Good-night ! " 
 
 Feigning to be wholly unconscious of the abrupt 
 wave of the hand which rendered this farewell tan- 
 tamount to a dismissal, Mr. Chester retorted with a 
 bland and heartfelt benediction, and inquired of 
 Gabriel in what direction he was going. 
 
 " Yours, sir, would be too much honor for the like 
 of me," replied the locksmith, hesitating. 
 
 " I wish you to remain here a little while, Var-
 
 302 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 den," said Mr. Haredale, without looking towards 
 them. " I have a word or two to say to you." 
 
 " I will not intrude upon your conference another 
 moment," said Mr. Chester with inconceivable 
 politeness. " May it be satisfactory to you both ! 
 God bless you ! " So saying, and bestowing upon the 
 locksmith a most refulgent smile, he left them. 
 
 " A deplorably constituted creature, that rugged 
 person," he said as he walked along the street : " he 
 is an atrocity that carries its own punishment along 
 with it — a bear that gnaws himself. And here is 
 one of the inestimable advantages of having a per- 
 fect command over one's inclinations. I have been 
 tempted, in these two short interviews, to draw 
 upon that fellow fifty times. Five men in six would 
 have yielded to the impulse. By suppressing mine, 
 I wound him deeper and more keenly than if I were 
 the best swordsman in all Europe, and he the worst. 
 You are the wise man's very last resource," he said, 
 tapping the hilt of his weapon ; " we can but appeal 
 to you when all else is said and done. To come to 
 you before, and thereby spare our adversaries so 
 much, is a barbarian mode of warfare quite un- 
 worthy any man with the remotest pretensions to 
 delicacy of feeling or refinement." 
 
 He smiled so very pleasantly as he communed 
 with himself after this manner, that a beggar was 
 emboldened to follow him for alms, and to dog his 
 footsteps for some distance. He was gratified by 
 the circumstance, feeling it complimentary to his 
 power of feature, and as a reward suffered the man 
 to follow him until he called a chair, when he gra- 
 ciously dismissed him with a fervent blessing. 
 
 "Which is as easy as cursing," he wisely added
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 303 
 
 as he took his seat, "and more becoming to the face. 
 — To Clerkenwell, my good creatures, if you 
 please ! " The chairmen were rendered quite viva- 
 cious by having such a courteous burden, and to 
 Clerkenwell they went at a fair round trot. 
 
 Alighting at a certain point he had indicated to 
 them upon the road, and paying them something 
 less than they had expected from a fare of such 
 gentle speech, he turned into the street in which the 
 locksmith dwelt, and presently stood beneath the 
 shadow of the Golden Key. Mr. Tappertit, who was 
 hard at work by lamplight in a corner of the work- 
 shop, remained unconscious of his presence until a 
 hand upon his shoulder made him start and turn his 
 head. 
 
 " Industry," said Mr. Chester, " is the soul of 
 business, and the keystone of prosperity. Mr. 
 Tappertit, I shall expect you to invite me to 
 dinner when you are Lord Mayor of London." 
 
 " Sir," returned the 'prentice, laying down his 
 hammer, and rubbing his nose on the back of a very 
 sooty hand, "I scorn the Lord Mayor and every- 
 thing that belongs to him. We must have another 
 state of society, sir, before you catch me being 
 Lord Mayor. How de do, sir ? " 
 
 " The better, Mr. Tappertit, for looking into your 
 ingenuous face once more. I hope you are well." 
 
 " I am as well, sir," said Sim, standing up to get 
 nearer to his ear, and whispering hoarsely, " as any 
 man can be under the aggrawations to which I am 
 exposed. My life's a burden to me. If it wasn't 
 for wengeance, I'd play at pitch-and-toss with it on 
 the losing hazard." 
 
 " Is Mrs. Varden at home ? " said Mr. Chester.
 
 304 BARNABY RTTDGE. 
 
 " Sir," returned Sim, eying him over with a look 
 of concentrated expression, " she is. Did you wish 
 to see her ? " 
 
 Mr. Chester nodded. 
 
 (i Then come this way, sir," said Sim, wiping his 
 face upon his apron. "Follow me, sir. — Would 
 you permit me to whisper in your ear one-half a 
 second ? " 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 Mr. Tappertit raised himself on tiptoe, applied 
 his lips to Mr. Chester's ear, drew back his head 
 without saying anything, looked hard at him, ap- 
 plied them to his ear again, again drew back, and 
 finally whispered — " The name is Joseph Willet. 
 Hush ! I say no more." 
 
 Having said that much, he beckoned the visitor 
 with a mysterious aspect to follow him to the par- 
 lor door, where he announced him in the voice of a 
 gentleman usher — " Mr. Chester." 
 
 " And not Mr. Ed'dard, mind," said Sim, looking 
 into the door again, and adding this by way of post- 
 script in his own person ; " it's his father." 
 
 " But do not let his father," said Mr. Chester, 
 advancing hat in hand, as he observed the effect of 
 this last explanatory announcement, " do not let his 
 father be any check or restraint on your domestic 
 occupations, Miss Varden." 
 
 " Oh ! Now ! There ! Ain't I always a saying 
 it ? " exclaimed Miggs, clapping her hands. "If he 
 ain't been and took missis for her own daughter ! 
 Well, she do look like it, that she do. On'y think 
 of that, mim ! " 
 
 " Is it possible," said Mr. Chester in his softest 
 tones, " that this is Mrs. Varden ? I am amazed.
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 305 
 
 That is not your daughter, Mrs. Varden ? No, no. 
 Your sister." 
 
 " My daughter, indeed, sir," returned Mrs. V., 
 blushing with great juvenility. 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Varden ! " cried the visitor. " Ah, 
 ma'am — humanity is indeed a happy lot when we 
 can repeat ourselves in others, and still be young 
 as they. You must allow me to salute you — the 
 custom of the country, my dear madam — your 
 daughter too." 
 
 Dolly showed some reluctance to perform this 
 ceremony, but was sharply reproved by Mrs. Varden, 
 who insisted on her undergoing it that minute. 
 For pride, she said with great' severity, was one of 
 the seven deadly sins, and humility and lowliness 
 of heart were virtues. Wherefore she desired that 
 Dolly would be kissed immediately, on pain of her 
 just displeasure; at the same time giving her to 
 understand that whatever she saw her mother do, 
 she might safely do herself, without being at the 
 trouble of any reasoning or reflection on the subject 
 — which, indeed, was offensive and undutiful, and 
 in direct contravention of the Church Catechism. 
 
 Thus admonished, Dolly complied, though by no 
 means willingly ; for there was a broad, bold look 
 of admiration in Mr. Chester's face, refined and 
 polished though it sought to be, which distressed 
 her very much. As she stood with downcast eyes, 
 not liking to look up and meet his, he gazed upon 
 her with an approving air, and then turned to her 
 mother. 
 
 " My friend Gabriel (whose acquaintance I only 
 made this very evening) should be a happy man, 
 Mrs. Varden." 
 vol. i. -20.
 
 306 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Ah ! " sighed Mrs. V., shaking her head. 
 
 " Ah ! " echoed Miggs. 
 
 " Is that the case ? " said Mr. Chester compassion- 
 ately. " Dear me ! " 
 
 " Master has no intentions, sir," murmured Miggs 
 as she sidled up to him, " but to be as grateful as his 
 natur will let him, for everythink he owns which it 
 is in his powers to appreciate. But we never, sir " 
 — said Miggs, looking sideways at Mrs. Varden, and 
 interlarding her discourse with a sigh — " we never 
 know the full value of some wines and fig-trees, till 
 we lose 'em. So much the worse, sir, for them as 
 has the slighting of 'em on their consciences when 
 they're gone to be in full blow elsewhere." And 
 Miss Miggs cast up her eyes to signify where that 
 might be. 
 
 As Mrs. Varden distinctly heard, and was in- 
 tended to hear, all that Miggs said, and as these 
 words appeared to convey, in metaphorical terms, a 
 presage or foreboding that she would at some early 
 period droop beneath her trials and take an easy 
 flight towards the stars, she immediately began to 
 languish, and taking a volume of the Manual from 
 a neighboring table, leant her arm upon it as though 
 she were Hope, and that her Anchor. Mr. Chester 
 perceiving this, and seeing how the volume was let- 
 tered on the back, took it gently from her hand, and 
 turned the fluttering leaves. 
 
 " My favorite book, dear madam. How often, how 
 very often in his early life — before he can remem- 
 ber " — (this clause was strictly true) — " have I de- 
 duced little easy moral lessons from its pages for my 
 dear son Ned ! You know Ned ? " 
 
 Mrs. Varden had that honor, and a fine affable 
 young gentleman he was.
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 307 
 
 "You're a mother, Mrs. Varden," said Mr. Chester, 
 taking a pinch of snuff, " and you know what I, as 
 a father, feel when he is praised. He gives me some 
 uneasiness — much uneasiness — he's of a roving 
 nature, ma'am — from flower to flower — from sweet 
 to sweet — but his is the butterfly time of life, and 
 we must not be hard upon such trifling." 
 
 He glanced at Dolly. She was attending evidently 
 to what he said. Just what he desired ! 
 
 " The only thing I object to in this little trait of 
 Ned's is," said Mr. Chester — " and the mention of 
 his name reminds me, by the way, that I am about 
 to beg the favor of a minute's talk with you alone 
 — the only thing I object to in it is, that it does par- 
 take of insincerity. Now, however I may attempt 
 to disguise the fact from myself in my affection for 
 Ned, still I always revert to this — that if we are 
 not sincere, we are nothing. Nothing upon earth. 
 Let us be sincere, my dear madam — " 
 
 " — And Protestant," murmured Mrs. Varden. 
 
 " And Protestant above all things. Let us be sin- 
 cere and Protestant, strictly moral, strictly just 
 (though always with a leaning towards mercy), 
 strictly honest, and strictly true, and we gain — it is 
 a slight point, certainly, but still it is something tan- 
 gible ; we throw up a groundwork and foundation, 
 so to speak, of goodness, on which we may after- 
 wards erect some worthy superstructure." 
 
 Now, to be sure, Mrs. Varden thought, here is a 
 perfect character. Here is a meek, righteous, thor- 
 ough-going Christian, who, having mastered all these 
 qualities, so difficult of attainment; who, having 
 dropped a pinch of salt on the tails of all the cardi- 
 nal virtues, and caught them every one ; makes
 
 308 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 light of their possession, and pants for more mor- 
 ality. For the good woman never doubted (as many- 
 good men and women never do) that this slighting 
 kind of profession, this setting so little store by 
 great matters, this seeming to say, " I am not proud, 
 I am what you hear, but I consider myself no better 
 than other people ; let us change the subject, pray " 
 — was perfectly genuine and true. He so contrived 
 it, and said it in that way that it appeared to have 
 been forced from him, and its effect was marvellous. 
 
 Aware of the impression he had made — few men 
 were quicker than he at such discoveries — Mr. 
 Chester followed up the blow by propounding cer- 
 tain virtuous maxims, somewhat vague and general 
 in their nature, doubtless, and occasionally partak- 
 ing of the character of truisms, worn a little out at 
 elbow, but delivered in so charming a voice, and 
 with such uncommon serenity and peace of mind, 
 that they answered as well as the best. Nor is this 
 to be wondered at ; for, as hollow vessels produce a 
 far more musical sound in falling than those which 
 are substantial, so it will oftentimes be found that 
 sentiments which have nothing in them make the 
 loudest ringing in the world, and are the most 
 relished. 
 
 Mr. Chester, with the volume gently extended in 
 one hand, and with the other planted lightly on his 
 breast, talked to them in the most delicious manner 
 possible ; and quite enchanted all his hearers, not- 
 withstanding their conflicting interests and thoughts. 
 Even Dolly, who, between his keen regards and her 
 eying over by Mr. Tappertit, was put quite out of 
 countenance, could not help owning within herself, 
 that he was the sweetest-spoken gentleman she had
 
 ^2 
 
 
 ; 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
 1 

 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 309 
 
 ever seen. Even Miss Miggs, who was divided 
 between admiration of Mr. Chester and a mortal 
 jealousy of her young mistress, had sufficient leisure 
 to be propitiated. Even Mr. Tappertit, though 
 occupied as we have seen in gazing at his heart's 
 delight, could not wholly divert his thoughts from 
 the voice of the other charmer. Mrs. Varden, to 
 her own private thinking, had never been so im- 
 proved in all her life; an<l when Mr. Chester, rising 
 and craving permission to speak with her apart, took 
 her by the hand and led her at armVlength upstairs 
 to the best sitting-room, she almost deemed him 
 something more than human. 
 
 " Dear madam," he said, pressing her hand deli- 
 cately to his lips ; " be seated." 
 
 .Mrs. Varden called up quite a courtly air, and 
 became seated. 
 
 " You guess my object ? " said Mr. Chester, draw- 
 ing a chair towards her. "You divine my pur- 
 pose ? I am an affectionate parent, my dear Mrs. 
 Varden." 
 
 " That I am sure you are, sir," said Mrs. V. 
 
 "Thank you," returned Mr. Chester, tapping his 
 snuff-box lid. " Heavy moral responsibilities rest 
 with parents, Mrs. Varden." 
 
 Mrs. Varden slightly raised her hands, shook her 
 head, and looked at the ground as though she saw 
 straight through the globe, out at the other end, and 
 into the immensity of space beyond. 
 
 " I may confide in you," said Mr. Chester, " with- 
 out reserve. I love my son, ma'am, dearly ; and, 
 loving him as I do, I would save him from working 
 certain misery. You know of his attachment to 
 Miss Haredale. You have abetted him in it, and
 
 310 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 very kind of you it was to do so. I am deeply 
 obliged to you — most deeply obliged to you — for 
 your interest in his behalf ; but, my dear ma'am, it 
 is a mistaken one, I do assure you." 
 
 Mrs. Varden stammered that she was sorry — 
 
 " Sorry, my dear ma'am ! " he interposed. " Never 
 be sorry for what is so very amiable, so very good 
 in intention, so perfectly like yourself. But there 
 are grave and weighty reasons, pressing family con- 
 siderations, and, apart even from these, points of 
 religious difference, which interpose themselves, and 
 render their union impossible ; utterly impossible. 
 I should have mentioned these circumstances to your 
 husband ; but he has — you will excuse my saying 
 this so freely — he has not your quickness of appre- 
 hension or depth of moral sense. What an extremely 
 airy house this is, and how beautifully kept ! For 
 one like myself — a widower so long — these tokens 
 of female care and superintendence have inexpressi- 
 ble charms." 
 
 Mrs. Varden began to think (she scarcely knew 
 why) that the young Mr. Chester must be in the 
 wrong, and the old Mr. Chester must be in the right. 
 
 "My son Ned," resumed her tempter with his 
 most winning air, " has had, I am told, your lovely 
 daughter's aid, and your open-hearted husband's." 
 
 « — Much more than mine, sir," said Mrs. Varden ; 
 " a great deal more. I have often had my doubts. 
 It's a — " 
 
 "A bad example," suggested Mr. Chester. "It 
 is. No doubt it is. Your daughter is at that age 
 when to set before her an encouragement for young 
 persons to rebel against their parents on this most 
 important point is particularly injudicious. You
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 311 
 
 are quite right. I ought to have thought of that 
 myself, but it escaped me, I confess — so far superior 
 are your sex to ours, dear madam, in point of 
 penetration and sagacity." 
 
 Mrs. Varden looked as wise as if she had really 
 said something to deserve this compliment — firmly 
 believed she had, in short — and her faith in her own 
 shrewdness increased considerably. 
 
 " My dear ma'am," said Mr. Chester, " you 
 embolden me to be plain with you. My son and I 
 are at variance on this point. The young lady and 
 her natural guardian differ upon it also. And the 
 closing point is, that my son is bound, by his duty to 
 me, by his honor, by every solemn tie and obligation, 
 to marry some one else." 
 
 " Engaged to marry another lady ! " quoth Mrs. 
 Varden, holding up her hands* 
 
 "My dear madam, brought up, educated, and 
 trained expressly for that purpose. Expressly for 
 that purpose. — Miss Haredale, I am told, is a very 
 charming creature." 
 
 " I am her foster-mother, and should know — the 
 best young lady in the world," said Mrs. Varden. 
 
 " I have not the smallest doubt of it. I am sure 
 she is. And you, who have stood in that tender 
 relation towards her, are bound to consult her happi- 
 ness. Now, can I — as I have said to Haredale, 
 who quite agrees — can I possibly stand by, and 
 suffer her to throw herself away (although she is of a 
 Catholic family) upon a young fellow who, as yet, 
 has no heart at all ? It is no imputation upon him 
 to say he has not, because young men who have 
 plunged deeply into the frivolities and convention- 
 alities of society very seldom have. Their hearts
 
 312 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 never grow, my dear ma'am, till after thirty. I don't 
 believe, no, I do not believe, that I had any heart 
 myself when I was Ned's age." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Mrs. Varden, " I think you must 
 have had. It's impossible that you, who have so 
 much now, can ever have been without any." 
 
 "I hope," he answered, shrugging his shoulders 
 meekly, "I have a little; I hope, a very little — 
 Heaven knows ! But to return to Ned : I have no 
 doubt you thought, and therefore interfered benevo- 
 lently in his behalf, that I objected to Miss Hare- 
 dale. How very natural ! My dear madam, I 
 object to him — to him — emphatically to Ned 
 himself." 
 
 Mrs. Varden was perfectly aghast at the disclosure. 
 
 " He has, if he honorably fulfils this solemn obli- 
 gation of which I have told you — and he must be 
 honorable, dear Mrs. Varden, or he is no son of 
 mine — a fortune within his reach. He is of most 
 expensive, ruinously expensive habits ; and if, in a 
 moment of caprice and wilfulness, he were to marry 
 this young lady, and so deprive himself of the 
 means of gratifying the tastes to which he has been 
 so long accustomed, he would — my dear madam, he 
 would break the gentle creature's heart. Mrs. 
 Varden, my good lady, my dear soul, I put it to you 
 — is such a sacrifice to be endured ? Is the female 
 heart a thing to be trifled with in this way ? Ask 
 your own, my dear madam. Ask your own, I 
 beseech you." 
 
 " Truly," thought Mrs. Varden, "this gentleman 
 is a saint. But," she added aloud, and not unnatu- 
 rally, "if you take Miss Emma's lover away, sir, 
 what becomes of the poor thing's heart then ? "
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 313 
 
 "The very point," said Mr. Chester, not at all 
 abashed, " to which I wished to lead you. A mar- 
 riage with my son, whom I should be compelled to 
 disown, would be followed by years of misery ; they 
 would be separated, my dear madam, in a twelve- 
 month. To break off this attachment, which is more 
 fancied, than real, as you and I know very well, will 
 cost the dear girl but a few tears, and she is happy 
 again. Take the case of your own daughter, the 
 young lady downstairs who is your breathing image " 
 — Mrs. Varden coughed and simpered — "there 
 is a young man (I am sorry to say, a dissolute 
 fellow, of very indifferent character), of whom I 
 have heard Ned speak — Bullet was it — Pullet — 
 Mullet — " 
 
 " There is a young man of the name of Joseph 
 Willet, sir," said Mrs. Varden, folding her hands 
 loftily. 
 
 " That's he," cried Mr. Chester. " Suppose this 
 Joseph Willet, now, were to aspire to the affections 
 of your charming daughter, and were to engage 
 them ? " 
 
 "It would be like his impudence," interposed 
 Mrs. Varden, bridling, " to dare to think of such a 
 thing ! " 
 
 " My dear madam, that's the whole case. I know 
 it would be like his impudence. It is like Ned's 
 impudence to do as he has done ; but you would not 
 on that account, or because of a few tears from your 
 beautiful daughter, refrain from checking their 
 inclinations in their birth. I meant to have rea- 
 soned thus with your husband when I saw him at 
 Mrs. Rudge's this evening — " 
 
 " My husband," said Mrs. Varden, interposing
 
 314 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 with emotion, "would be a great deal better at 
 home than going to Mrs. Rudge's so often. I don't 
 know what he does there. I don't see what occa- 
 sion he has to busy himself in her affairs at all, 
 sir." 
 
 " If I don't appear to express my concurrence in 
 those last sentiments of yours," returned Mr. 
 Chester, " quite so strongly as you might desire, it 
 is because his being there, my dear madam, and not 
 proving conversational, led me hither, and procured 
 me the happiness of this interview with one in 
 whom the whole management, conduct, and prosper- 
 ity of her family are centred, I perceive." 
 
 With that he took Mrs. Varden's hand again, and 
 having pressed it to his lips with the high-flown 
 gallantry of the day — a little burlesqued, to render 
 it the more striking in the good lady's unaccustomed 
 eyes — proceeded, in the same strain of mingled 
 sophistry, cajolery, and flattery, to entreat that 
 her utmost influence might be exerted to restrain 
 her husband and daughter from any further promo- 
 tion of Edward's suit to Miss Haredale, and from 
 aiding or abetting either party in any way. Mrs. 
 Varden was but a woman, and had her share of 
 vanity, obstinacy, and love of power. She entered 
 into a secret treaty of alliance, offensive and defen- 
 sive, with her insinuating visitor ; and really did 
 believe, as many others would have done who saw 
 and heard him, that in so doing she furthered the 
 ends of truth, justice, and morality in a very 
 uncommon degree. 
 
 Overjoyed by the success of his negotiation, and 
 mightily amused within himself, Mr. Chester con- 
 ducted her downstairs in the same state as before ;
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 315 
 
 and having repeated the previous ceremony of salu- 
 tation, which also, as before, comprehended Dolly, 
 took his leave ; first completing the conquest of 
 Miss Miggs's heart by inquiring if "this young lady" 
 would light him to the door. 
 
 " Oh, mim ! " said Miggs, returning with the 
 candle. " Oh, gracious me, mim, there's a gentle- 
 man ! Was there ever such an angel to talk as he 
 is — and such a sweet-looking man ? So upright 
 and noble, that he seems to despise the very ground 
 he walks on ; and yet so mild and condescending, 
 that he seems to say, ' But I will take notice on it 
 too.' And to think of his taking you for Miss 
 Dolly, and Miss Dolly for your sister ! Oh, my 
 goodness me, if I was master, wouldn't I be jealous 
 of him ! " 
 
 Mrs. Varden reproved her handmaid for this vain 
 speaking ; but very gently and mildly — quite smil- 
 ingly indeed — remarking that she was a foolish, 
 giddy, light-headed girl, whose spirits carried her 
 beyond all bounds, and who didn't mean half she 
 said, or she would be quite angry with her. 
 
 " For my part," said Dolly in a thoughtful man- 
 ner, " I half believe Mr. Chester is something like 
 Miggs in that respect. For all his politeness and 
 pleasant speaking, I am pretty sure he was making 
 game of us more than once." 
 
 " If you venture to say such a thing again, and to 
 speak ill of people behind their backs in my pres- 
 ence, miss," said Mrs. Varden, " I shall insist upon 
 your taking a candle and going to bed directly. 
 How dare you, Dolly ? I'm astonished at you. 
 The rudeness of your whole behavior this evening 
 has been disgraceful. Did anybody ever hear,"
 
 316 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 cried the enraged matron, bursting into tears, " of a 
 daughter telling her own mother she has been made 
 game of ? " 
 
 What a very uncertain temper Mrs. Varden's 
 was !
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Repairing to a noted coffee-house in Covent Gar- 
 den when he left the locksmith's, Mr. Chester sat 
 long over a late dinner, entertaining himself exceed- 
 ingly with the whimsical recollection of his recent 
 proceedings, and congratulating himself very much 
 on his great cleverness. Influenced by these 
 thoughts, his face wore an expression so benign and 
 tranquil, that the waiter in immediate attendance 
 upon him felt he could almost have died in his 
 defence, and settled in his own mind (until the 
 receipt of the bill, and a very small fee for very 
 great trouble, disabused it of the idea) that such an 
 apostolic customer was worth half a dozen of the 
 ordinary run of visitors, at least. 
 
 A visit to the gaming-table — not as a heated, 
 anxious venturer, but one whom it was quite a treat 
 to see staking his two or three pieces in deference 
 to the follies of society, and smiling with equal 
 benevolence on winners and losers — made it late 
 before he reached home. It was his custom to bid 
 his servant go to bed at his own time unless he had 
 orders to the contrary, and to leave a candle on the 
 common stair. There was a lamp on the landing by 
 which he could always light it when he came home 
 late, and having a key of the door about him, he 
 could enter and go to bed at his pleasure. 
 
 317
 
 318 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 He opened the glass of the dull lamp, whose 
 wick, burnt up and swollen like a drunkard's nose, 
 came flying off in little carbuncles at the candle's 
 touch, and scattering hot sparks about, rendered it 
 matter of some difficulty to kindle the laz}^ taper ; 
 when a noise, as of a man snoring deeply some steps 
 higher up, caused him to pause and listen. It was 
 the heavy breathing of a sleeper close at hand. 
 Some fellow had lain down on the open staircase, 
 and was slumbering soundly. Having lighted the 
 candle at length, and opened his own door, he softly 
 ascended, holding the taper high above his head, 
 and peering cautiously about ; curious to see what 
 kind of man had chosen so comfortless a shelter for 
 his lodging. 
 
 With his head upon the landing, and his great 
 limbs flung over half a dozen stairs, as carelessly as 
 though he were a dead man whom drunken bearers 
 had thrown down by chance, there lay Hugh, face 
 uppermost, his long hair drooping like some wild 
 weed upon his wooden pillow, and his huge chest 
 heaving with the sounds which so unwontedly dis- 
 turbed the place and hour. He who came upon him 
 so unexpectedly was about to break his rest by 
 thrusting him with his foot, when glancing at his 
 upturned face, he arrested himself in the very 
 action, and stooping down and shading the candle 
 with his hand, examined his features closely. Close 
 as his first inspection was, it did not suffice, for he 
 passed the light, still carefully shaded as before, 
 across and across his face, and yet observed him 
 with a searching eye. 
 
 While he was thus engaged, the sleeper, without 
 any starting or turning round, awoke. There was a
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 319 
 
 kind of fascination in meeting his steady gaze so 
 suddenly, which took from the other the presence 
 of mind to withdraw his eyes, and forced him, as it 
 were, to meet his look. So they remained staring 
 at each other, until Mr. Chester at last broke silence, 
 and asked him, in a low voice, why he lay sleeping 
 there. 
 
 " I thought," said Hugh, struggling into a sitting 
 posture and gazing at him intently still, " that you 
 were a part of my dream. It was a curious one. I 
 hope it may never come true, master." 
 
 " What makes you shiver ? " 
 
 "The — the cold, I suppose," he growled as he 
 shook himself and rose. " I hardly know where I 
 am yet." 
 
 " Do you know me ? " said Mr. Chester. 
 
 "Ay, I know you," he answered. "I was dream- 
 ing of you — we're not where I thought we were. 
 That's a comfort." 
 
 He looked round him as he spoke, and in particu- 
 lar looked above his head, as though he half ex- 
 pected to be standing under some object which had 
 had existence in his dream. Then he rubbed his 
 eyes and shook himself again, and followed his con- 
 ductor into his own rooms. 
 
 Mr. Chester lighted the candles which stood upon 
 his dressing-table, and wheeling an easy-chair towards 
 the fire, which was yet burning, stirred up a cheer- 
 ful blaze, sat down before it, and bade his uncouth 
 visitor " Come here," and draw his boots off. 
 
 " You have been drinking again, my fine fellow," 
 he said, as Hugh went down on one knee, and did as 
 he was told. 
 
 "As I'm alive, master, I've walked the twelve
 
 820 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 long miles, and waited here I don't know how long, 
 and had no drink between my lips since dinner-time 
 at noon." 
 
 "And can you do nothing better, my pleasant 
 friend, than fall asleep, and shake the very building 
 with your snores ? " said Mr. Chester. " Can't you 
 dream in your straw at home, dull dog as you are, 
 that you need come here to do it ? — Reach me 
 those slippers, and tread softly." 
 
 Hugh obeyed in silence. 
 
 "And harkee, my dear young gentleman," said 
 Mr. Chester as he put them on, " the next time you 
 dream, don't let it be of me, but of some dog or 
 horse with whom you are better acquainted. Fill 
 the glass once — you'll find it and the bottle in the 
 same place — and empty it to keep yourself awake." 
 
 Hugh obeyed again — even more zealously — and 
 having done so, presented himself before his patron. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Chester, " what do you want 
 with me ? " 
 
 " There was news to-day," returned Hugh. " Your 
 son was at our house — came down on horseback. 
 He tried to see the young woman, but couldn't get 
 sight of her. He left some letter or some message, 
 which our Joe had charge of, but he and the old one 
 quarrelled about it when your son had gone, and the 
 old one wouldn't let it be delivered. He says 
 (that's the old one does) that none of his people 
 shall interfere and get him into trouble. He's a 
 landlord he says, and lives on everybody's custom." 
 
 "He is a jewel," smiled Mr. Chester, "and the 
 better for being a dull one. — Well ? " 
 
 "Varden's daughter — that's the girl I kissed — " 
 
 " — And stole the bracelet from upon the king's
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 321 
 
 highway," said Mr. Chester composedly. " Yes ; 
 what of her ? " 
 
 " She wrote a note at our house to the young 
 woman, saying she lost the letter I brought to you, 
 and you burnt. Our Joe was to carry it, but the 
 old one kept him at home all next day, on purpose 
 that he shouldn't. Next morning he gave it to me 
 to take ; and here it is." 
 
 "You didn't deliver it then, my good friend?" 
 said Mr. Chester, twirling Dolly's note between his 
 finger and thumb, and feigning to be surprised. 
 
 " I supposed you'd want to have it," retorted 
 Hugh. " Burn one, burn all, I thought." 
 
 " My devil-may-care acquaintance," said Mr. 
 Chester — " really, if you do not draw some nicer 
 distinctions, your career will be cut short with most 
 surprising suddenness. Don't you know that the 
 letter you brought to me was directed to my son, 
 who resides in this very place ? And can you de- 
 scry no difference between his letters and those ad- 
 dressed to other people ? " 
 
 " If you don't want it," said Hugh, disconcerted 
 by this reproof, for he had expected high praise, 
 " give it me back, and I'll deliver it. I don't know 
 how to please you, master." 
 
 "I shall deliver it," returned his patron, putting 
 it away after a moment's consideration, "myself. 
 Does the young lady walk out on fine mornings ? " 
 
 " Mostly — about noon is her usual time." 
 
 " Alone ? " 
 
 " Yes, alone." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 "In the grounds before the house. Them that 
 the footpath crosses." 
 
 VOL. I.-21.
 
 322 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 " If the weather should be fine, I may throw my- 
 self in her way to-morrow, perhaps," said Mr. 
 Chester, as coolly as if she were one of his ordinary 
 acquaintance. " Mr. Hugh, if I should ride up to 
 the Maypole door, you will do me the favor only to 
 have seen me once. You must suppress your grati- 
 tude, and endeavor to forget my forbearance in the 
 matter of the bracelet. It is natural it should break 
 out, and it does you honor ; but, when other folks 
 are by, you must, for your own sake and safety, be 
 as like your usual self as though you owed me no 
 obligation whatever, and had never stood within 
 these walls. You comprehend me ? " 
 
 Hugh understood him perfectly. After a pause 
 he muttered that he hoped his patron would involve 
 him in no trouble about this last letter ; for he had 
 kept it back solely with the view of pleasing him. 
 He was continuing in this strain, when Mr. Chester, 
 with a most beneficent and patronizing air, cut him 
 short by saying, — 
 
 " My good fellow, you have my promise, my word, 
 my sealed bond (for a verbal pledge with me is 
 quite as good), that I will always protect you so long 
 as you deserve it. Now, do set your mind at rest. 
 Keep it at ease, I beg of you. When a man puts 
 himself in my power so thoroughly as you have 
 done, I really feel as though he had a kind of claim 
 upon me. I am more disposed to mercy and for- 
 bearance under such circumstances than I can tell 
 you, Hugh. Do look upon me as your protector, 
 and rest assured, I entreat you, that on the subject 
 of that indiscretion you may preserve, as long as 
 you and I are friends, the lightest heart that ever 
 beat within a human breast. Fill that glass once
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 323 
 
 more to cheer you on your road homewards — I am 
 really quite ashamed to think how far you have to 
 go — and then God bless you for the night." 
 
 "They think," said Hugh, when he had tossed 
 the liquor down, "that I am sleeping soundly in 
 the stable. Ha, ha, ha ! The stable door is shut, 
 but the steed's gone, master." 
 
 " You are a most convivial fellow," returned his 
 friend, "and I love your humor of all things. Good- 
 night. Take the greatest possible care of yourself, 
 for my sake ! " 
 
 It was remarkable that, during the whole inter- 
 view, each had endeavored to catch stolen glances 
 of the other's face, and had never looked full at it. 
 They interchanged one brief and hasty glance as 
 Hugh went out, averted their eyes directly, and so 
 separated. Hugh closed the double doors behind 
 him carefully and without noise ; and Mr. Chester 
 remained in his easy-chair, with his gaze intently 
 fixed upon the fire. 
 
 " Well ! " he said, after meditating for a long 
 time — and said with a deep sigh and an uneasy 
 shifting of his attitude, as though he dismissed 
 some other subject from his thoughts, and returned 
 to that which had held possession of them all the 
 day — " the plot thickens ; I have thrown the shell ; 
 it will explode, I think, in eight and forty hours, 
 and should scatter these good folks amazingly. We 
 shall see ! " 
 
 He went to bed and fell asleep, but had not slept 
 long when he started up and thought that Hugh 
 was at the outer door, calling in a strange voice, 
 very different from his own, to be admitted. The 
 delusion was so strong upon him, and was so full of
 
 324 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 that vague terror of the night in which such visions 
 have their being, that he rose, and taking his sheathed 
 sword in his hand, opened the door, and looked out 
 upon the staircase, and towards the spot where 
 Hugh had lain asleep; and even spoke to him by 
 name. But all was dark and quiet, and creeping 
 back to bed again, he fell, after an hour's uneasy 
 watching, into a second sleep, and woke no more 
 till morning.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The thoughts of worldly men are forever regu- 
 lated by a moral law of gravitation, which, like the 
 physical one, holds them down to earth. The bright 
 glory of day, and the silent wonders of a starlit 
 night, appeal to their minds in vain. There are no 
 signs in the sun, or in the moon, or in the stars, for 
 their reading. They are like some wise men, who, 
 learning to know each planet by its Latin name, 
 have quite forgotten such small heavenly constella- 
 tions as Charity, Forbearance, Universal Love, and 
 Mercy, although they shine by night and day so 
 brightly that the blind may see them ; and who, 
 looking upward at the spangled sky, see nothing 
 there but the reflection of their own great wisdom 
 and book-learning. 
 
 It is curious to imagine these people of the world, 
 busy in thought, turning their eyes toward the 
 countless spheres that shine above us, and making 
 them reflect the only images their minds contain. 
 The man who lives but in the breath of princes has 
 nothing in his sight but stars for courtiers' breasts. 
 The envious man beholds his neighbors' honors even 
 m the sky ; to the money-hoarder, and the mass of 
 worldly folk, the whole great universe above glitters 
 with sterling coin — fresh from the mint — stamped 
 
 325
 
 326 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 with the sovereign's head, coming always between 
 them and heaven, turn where they may. So do the 
 shadows of our own desires stand between us and 
 our better angels, and thus their brightness is 
 eclipsed. 
 
 Everything was fresh and gay, as though the 
 world were but that morning made, when Mr. 
 Chester rode at a tranquil pace along the Forest 
 road. Though early in the season, it was warm and 
 genial weather; the trees were budding into leaf, 
 the hedges and the grass were green, the air was 
 musical with songs of birds, and high above them 
 all the lark poured out her richest melody. In 
 shady spots the morning dew sparkled on each 
 young leaf and blade of grass ; and, where the sun 
 was shining, some diamond drops yet glistened 
 brightly, as in unwillingness to leave so fair a 
 world, and have such brief existence. Even the 
 light wind, whose rustling was as gentle to the ear 
 as softly falling water, had its hope and promise ; 
 and, leaving a pleasant fragrance in its track as it 
 went fluttering by, whispered of its intercourse with 
 Summer, and of his happy coming. 
 
 The solitary rider went glancing on among the 
 trees, from sunlight into shade and back again, at 
 the same even pace — looking about him, certainly, 
 from time to time, but with no greater thought of 
 the day or the scene through which he moved than 
 that he was fortunate (being choicely dressed) to 
 have such favorable weather. He smiled very com- 
 placently at such times, but rather as if he were 
 satisfied with himself than with anything else : and 
 so went riding on upon his chestnut cob, as pleasant 
 to look upon as his own horse, and probably far less
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 327 
 
 sensitive to the many cheerful influences by which 
 he was surrounded. 
 
 In course of time the Maypole's massive chimneys 
 rose upon his view : but he quickened not his pace 
 one jot, and with the same cool gravity rode up to 
 the tavern porch. John Willet, who was toasting 
 his red face before a great fire in the bar, and who, 
 with surpassing foresight and quickness of appre- 
 hension, had been thinking, as he looked at the blue 
 sky, that if that state of things lasted much longer, 
 it might ultimately become necessary to leave off 
 fires and throw the windows open, issued forth to 
 hold his stirrup ; calling lustily for Hugh. 
 
 " Oh, you're here, are you, sir ? " said John, 
 rather surprised by the quickness with which he 
 appeared. " Take this here valuable animal into 
 the stable, and have more than particular care of 
 him, if you want to keep your place. A mortal 
 lazy fellow, sir ; he needs a deal of looking 
 after." 
 
 " But you have a son," returned Mr. Chester, 
 giving his bridle to Hugh as he dismounted, and 
 acknowledging his salute by a careless motion of 
 his hand towards his hat. " Why don't you make 
 htm useful ? " 
 
 " Why, the truth is, sir," replied John with great 
 importance, " that my son — What, you're a listen- 
 ing, are you, villain ? " 
 
 " Who's listening ? " returned Hugh angrily. " A 
 treat, indeed, to hear you speak ! Would you have 
 me take him in till he's cool ? " 
 
 " Walk him up and down further off then, sir," 
 cried old John, " and when you see me and a noble 
 gentleman entertaining ourselves with talk, keep
 
 328 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 your distance. If you don't know your distance, 
 sir," added Mr. Willet after an enormously long 
 pause, during which he fixed his great dull eyes on 
 Hugh, and waited with exemplary patience for any 
 little property in the way of ideas that might be 
 coming to him, "we'll find a way to teach you 
 pretty soon." 
 
 Hugh shrugged his shoulders scornfully, and, in 
 his reckless swaggering way, crossed to the other 
 side of the little green, and there, with the bridle 
 slung loosely over his shoulder, led the horse to and 
 fro, glancing at his master every now and then, from 
 under his bushy eyebrows, with as sinister an aspect 
 as one would desire to see. • 
 
 Mr. Chester, who, without appearing to do so, 
 had eyed him attentively during this brief dispute, 
 stepped into the porch, and turning abruptly to Mr. 
 Willet, said, — 
 
 " You keep strange servants, John." 
 
 " Strange enough to look at, sir, certainly," an- 
 swered the host ; " but out of doors ; for horses, 
 dogs, and the like of that ; there ain't a better man 
 in England than is that Maypole Hugh yonder. He 
 ain't fit for indoors," added Mr. Willet, with the 
 confidential air of a man who felt his own superior 
 nature ; " / do that ; but if that chap had only a 
 little imagination, sir — " 
 
 " He's an active fellow now, I dare swear," said 
 Mr. Chester in a musing tone, which seemed to sug- 
 gest that he would have said the same had there 
 been nobody to hear him. 
 
 " Active, sir ! " retorted John, with quite an ex- 
 pression in his face; "that chap! Hallo there! 
 You, sir ! Bring that horse here, and go and hang
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 329 
 
 my wig on the weathercock, to show this gentleman 
 whether you're one of the lively sort or not." 
 
 Hugh made no answer, but throwing the bridle to 
 his master, and snatching his wig from his head in 
 a manner so unceremonious and hasty that the 
 action discomposed Mr. Willet not a little, though 
 performed at his own special desire, climbed nimbly 
 to the very summit of the maypole before the house, 
 and hanging the wig upon the weathercock, sent it 
 twirling round like a roasting-jack. Having 
 achieved this performance, he cast it on the ground, 
 and sliding down the pole with inconceivable rapid- 
 ity, alighted on his feet almost as soon as it had 
 touched the earth. • 
 
 " There, sir," said John, relapsing into his usual 
 stolid state, "you won't see that at many houses 
 besides the Maypole, where there's good accommo- 
 dation for man and beast — nor that neither, though 
 that with him is nothing." 
 
 This last remark bore reference to his vaulting on 
 horseback, as upon Mr. Chester's first visit, and 
 quickly disappearing by the stable gate. 
 
 " That with him is nothing," repeated Mr. Willet, 
 brushing his wig with his wrist, and inwardly re- 
 solving to distribute a small charge for dust and 
 damage to that article of dress through the various 
 items of his guest's bill ; " he'll get out of a'most 
 any winder in the house. There never was such a 
 chap for flinging himself about, and never hurting 
 his bon°s. It's my opinion, sir, that it's pretty 
 nearly all owing to his not having any imagination ; 
 and that, if imagination could be (which it can't) 
 knocked into him, he'd never be able to do it any 
 more. But we was a talking, sir, about my son."
 
 330 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 "True, Willet, true," said his visitor, turning 
 again towards the landlord with his accustomed 
 serenity of face. " My good friend, what about 
 him ? " 
 
 It has been reported that Mr. Willet, previously 
 to making answer, winked. But, as he never was 
 known to be guilty of such lightness of conduct 
 either before or afterwards, this may be looked upon 
 as a malicious invention of his enemies — founded, 
 perhaps, upon the undisputed circumstance of his 
 taking his guest by the third breast-button of his 
 coat, counting downwards from the chin, and pour- 
 ing his reply into his ear. 
 
 " Sir," whispered John with dignity, " I know my 
 duty. We want no love-making here, sir, unbe- 
 known to parents. I respect a certain young gen- 
 tleman, taking him in the light of a young gentle- 
 man ; I respect a certain young lady, taking her in 
 the light of a young lady ; but of the two as a 
 couple I have no knowledge, sir, none whatever. 
 My son, sir, is upon his patrole." 
 
 " I thought I saw him looking through the corner 
 window but this moment," said Mr. Chester, who 
 naturally thought that being on patrole implied 
 walking about somewhere. 
 
 " No doubt you did, sir," returned John. " He is 
 upon his patrole of honor, sir, not to leave the 
 premises. Me and some friends of mine that use 
 the Maypole of an evening, sir, considered what was 
 best to be done with him to prevent his doing any- 
 thing unpleasant in opposing your desires ; and 
 we've put him on his patrole. And what's more, 
 sir, he won't be off his patrole for a pretty long 
 time to come, I can tell you that."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 331 
 
 When he had communicated this bright idea, 
 which had had its origin in the perusal by the vil- 
 lage cronies of a newspaper containing, among 
 other matters, an account of how some officer pend- 
 ing the sentence of some court-martial had been en- 
 larged on parole, Mr. Willet drew back from his 
 guest's ear, and, without any visible alteration of 
 feature, chuckled thrice audibly. This nearest ap- 
 proach to a laugh in which he ever indulged (and 
 that but seldom, and only on extreme occasions), 
 never even curled his lip or effected the smallest 
 change in — no, not so much as a slight wagging of 
 — his great, fat, double chin, which at these times, 
 as at all others, remained a perfect desert in the 
 broad map of his face ; one changeless, dull, tremen- 
 dous blank. 
 
 Lest it should be matter of surprise to any that 
 Mr. "Willet adopted this bold course in opposition to 
 one whom he had often entertained, and who had 
 always paid his way at the Maypole gallantly, it 
 may be remarked that it was his very penetration 
 and sagacity in this respect which occasioned him 
 to indulge in those unusual demonstrations of jocu- 
 larity just now recorded. For Mr. Willet, after 
 carefully balancing father and son in his mental 
 scales, had arrived at the distinct conclusion that 
 the old gentleman was a better sort of customer 
 than the young one. Throwing his landlord into 
 the same scale, which was already turned by this 
 consideration, and heaping upon him, again, his 
 strong desires to run counter to the unfortunate 
 Joe, and his opposition, as a general principle, to all 
 matters of love and matrimony, it went down to the 
 very ground straightway, and sent the light cause of
 
 332 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 the younger gentleman flying upwards to the ceil- 
 ing. Mr. Chester was not the kind of man to be by 
 any means dim-sighted to Mr. Willet ! s motives, but 
 he thanked him as graciously as if he had been one 
 of the most disinterested martyrs that ever shone 
 on earth ; and leaving him, with many complimen- 
 tary reliances on his great taste and judgment, to 
 prepare whatever dinner he might deem most fitting 
 the occasion, bent his steps towards the Warren. 
 
 Dressed with more than his usual elegance ; 
 assuming a gracefulness of manner which, though 
 it was the result of long study, sat easily upon him 
 and became him well ; composing his features into 
 their most serene and prepossessing expression ; and 
 setting, in short, that guard upon himself, at every 
 point, which denoted that he attached no slight im- 
 portance to the impression he was about to make ; 
 he entered the bounds of Miss Haredale's usual 
 walk. He had not gone far, or looked about him 
 long, when he descried coming towards him a female 
 figure. A glimpse of the form and dress, as she 
 crossed a little wooden bridge which lay between 
 them, satisfied him that he had found her whom he 
 desired to see. He threw himself in her way, and 
 a very few paces brought them close together. 
 
 He raised his hat from his head, and yielding the 
 path, suffered her to pass him. Then, as if the idea 
 had but that moment occurred to him, he turned 
 hastily back and said in an agitated voice, — 
 
 " I beg pardon — do I address Miss Haredale ? " 
 
 She stopped in some confusion at being so unex- 
 pectedly accosted by a stranger; and answered 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Something told me," he said, looking a compli-
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 333 
 
 ment to her beauty, " that it could be no other. 
 Miss Haredale, I bear a name which is not unknown 
 to you — which it is a pride, and yet a pain to me to 
 know, sounds pleasantly in your ears. I am a man 
 advanced in life, as you see. I am the father of 
 him whom you honor and distinguish above all other 
 men. May I, for weighty reasons which fill me with 
 distress, beg but a minute's conversation with you 
 here ? " 
 
 Who that was inexperienced in deceit, and had a 
 frank and youthful heart, could doubt the speaker's 
 truth — could doubt it, too, when the voice that 
 spoke was like the faint echo of one she knew so 
 well, and so much loved to hear ? She inclined 
 her head, and stopping, cast her eyes upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " A little more apart — among these trees. It is 
 an old man's hand, Miss Haredale ; an honest one, 
 believe me." 
 
 She put hers in it as he said these words, and suf- 
 fered him to lead her to a neighboring seat. 
 
 " You alarm me, sir," she said in a low voice. 
 " You are not the bearer of any ill news, I hope ? " 
 
 " Of none that you anticipate," he answered, sit- 
 ting down beside her. "Edward is well — quite 
 well. It is of him I wish to speak, certainly ; but 
 I have no misfortune to communicate." 
 
 She bowed her head again, and made as though 
 she would have begged him to proceed; but said 
 nothing. 
 
 "I am sensible that I speak to you at a disad- 
 vantage, dear Miss Haredale. Believe me that I am 
 not so forgetful of the feelings of my younger days 
 as not to know that you are little disposed to view
 
 334 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 me with favor. You have heard me described as 
 cold-hearted, calculating, selfish — " 
 
 " I have never, sir," she interposed with an altered 
 manner and a firmer voice ; " I have never heard you 
 spoken of in harsh or disrespectful terms. You do 
 a great wrong to Edward's nature if you believe him 
 capable of any mean or base proceeding." 
 
 "Pardon me, my sweet young lady, but your 
 uncle — " 
 
 " Nor is it my uncle's nature either," she replied, 
 with a heightened color in her cheek. "It is not 
 his nature to stab in the dark, nor is it mine to love 
 such deeds." 
 
 She rose as she spoke, and would have left him ; 
 but he detained her with a gentle hand, and be- 
 sought her in such persuasive accents to hear him 
 but another minute, that she was easily prevailed 
 upon to comply, and so sat down again. 
 
 " And it is," said Mr. Chester, looking upward, 
 and apostrophizing the air : " it is this frank, in- 
 genuous, noble nature, Ned, that you can wound so 
 lightly. Shame — shame upon you, boy ! " 
 
 She turned towards him quickly, and with a scorn- 
 ful look and flashing eyes. There were tears in Mr. 
 Chester's, but he dashed them hurriedly away, as 
 though unwilling that his Aveakness should be 
 known, and regarded her with mingled admiration 
 and compassion. 
 
 "I never until now," he said, "believed that the 
 frivolous actions of a young man could move me 
 like these of my own son. I never knew till now 
 the worth of a woman's heart, which boys so lightly 
 win, and lightly fling away. Trust me, dear young 
 lady, that I never until now did know your worth ;
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 335 
 
 and though an abhorrence of deceit and falsehood 
 has impelled me to seek you out, and would have 
 done so had you been the poorest and least gifted of 
 your sex, I should have lacked the fortitude to sus- 
 tain this interview, could I have pictured you to my 
 imagination as you really are." 
 
 Oh ! If Mrs. Varden could have seen the virtu- 
 ous gentleman as he said these words, with indigna- 
 tion sparkling from his eyes — if she could have 
 heard his broken, quavering voice — if she could 
 have beheld him as he stood bareheaded in the sun- 
 light, and with unwonted energy poured forth his 
 eloquence ! 
 
 With a haughty face, but pale and trembling too, 
 Emma regarded him in silence. She neither spoke 
 nor moved, but gazed upon him as though she would 
 look into his heart. 
 
 " I throw off," said Mr. Chester, " the restraint 
 which natural affection would impose on some men, 
 and reject all bonds but those of truth and duty. 
 Miss Haredale, you are deceived ; you are deceived 
 by your unworthy lover, and my unworthy son." 
 
 Still she looked at him steadily, and still said not 
 one word. 
 
 " I have ever opposed his professions of love for 
 you ; you will do me the justice, dear Miss Hare- 
 dale, to remember that. Your uncle and myself 
 were enemies in early life, and if I had sought retal- 
 iation, I might have found it here. But, as we 
 grow older, we grow wiser — better, I would fain 
 hope — and from the first I have opposed him in 
 this attempt. I foresaw the end, and would have 
 spared you if I could." 
 
 " Speak plainly, sir," she faltered. " You deceive
 
 336 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 me, or are deceived yourself. I do not believe you — 
 I cannot — I sliould not." 
 
 "First," said Mr. Chester soothingly, "for there 
 may be in your mind some latent angry feeling to 
 which I would not appeal, pray take this letter. 
 It reached my hands by chance, and by mistake, and 
 should have accounted to you (as I am told) for my 
 son's not answering some other note of yours. God 
 forbid, Miss Haredale," said the good gentleman 
 with great emotion, " that there should be in your 
 gentle breast one causeless ground of quarrel with 
 him. You should know, and you will see, that he 
 was in no fault here." 
 
 There appeared something so very candid, so 
 scrupulously honorable, so very truthful and just in 
 this course — something which rendered the upright 
 person who resorted to it so worthy of belief — that 
 Emma's heart, for the first time, sunk within her. 
 She turned away, and burst into tears. 
 
 " I would," said Mr. Chester, leaning over her, and 
 speaking in mild and venerable accents; "I would, 
 dear girl, it were my task to banish, not increase, 
 those tokens of your grief. My son, my erring son, — 
 I will not call him deliberately criminal in this, for 
 men so young, who have been inconstant twice or 
 thrice before, act without reflecting, almost without 
 a knowledge of the wrong they do, — will break 
 his [(lighted faith to you ; has broken it even now. 
 Shall I stop here, and, having given you this warn- 
 ing, leave it to be fulfilled; or shall I go on ?" 
 
 " You will go on, sir," she answered, " and speak 
 more plainly yet in justice both to him and me." 
 
 " My dear girl," said Mr. Chester, bending over 
 her more affectionately still ; " whom I would call my
 
 BAHNABY RUDGE. 337 
 
 daughter, but the Fates forbid, Edward seeks to 
 break with you upon a false and most unwarrant- 
 able pretence. I have it on his own showing; in 
 his own hand. Forgive me if I have had a watch 
 upon his conduct ; I am his father ; I had a regard 
 for your peace and his honor, and no better resource 
 was left me. There lies on his desk at this mo- 
 ment, ready for transmission to you, a letter in 
 which he tells you that our poverty — our poverty ; 
 his and mine, Miss Haredale — forbids him to 
 pursue his claim upon your hand; in which he 
 offers, voluntarily proposes, to free you from 
 your pledge ; and talks magnanimously (men 
 do so, very commonly, in such cases) of being in 
 time more worthy your regard — and so forth. A 
 letter, to be plain, in which he not only jilts you — 
 pardon the word ; I would summon to your aid your 
 pride and dignity — not only jilts you, I fear, in 
 favor of the object whose slighting treatment first 
 inspired his brief passion for yourself, and gave it 
 birth in wounded vanity, but affects to make a merit 
 and a virtue of the act." 
 
 She glanced proudly at him once more, as by an 
 involuntary impulse, and with a swelling breast re- 
 joined, " If what you say be true, he takes much need- 
 less trouble, sir, to compass his design. He is very 
 tender of my peace of mind. I quite thank him.'' 
 
 " The truth of what I tell you, dear young lady," 
 he replied, "you will test by the receipt or non- 
 receipt of the letter of which I speak. — Haredale, 
 my dear fellow, I am delighted to see you, although 
 we meet under singular circumstances, and upon a 
 melancholy occasion. I hope you are very well." 
 
 At these words the young lady raised her eyes, 
 vol. I.-22.
 
 338 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 which were filled with tears ; and seeing that her 
 uncle indeed stood before them, and being quite un- 
 equal to the trial of hearing or of speaking one 
 word more, hurriedly withdrew, and left them. 
 They stood looking at each other, and at her retreat- 
 ing figure, and for a long time neither of them 
 spoke. 
 
 " What does this mean ? Explain it," said Mr. 
 Haredale at length. " Why are you here, and why 
 with her ? " 
 
 " My dear friend," rejoined the other, resuming 
 his accustomed manner with infinite readiness, and 
 throwing himself upon the bench with a weary air, 
 " you told me not very long ago, at that delightful 
 old tavern of which you are the esteemed proprie- 
 tor (and a most charming establishment it is for 
 persons of rural pursuits and in robust health, who 
 are not liable to take cold), that I had the head and 
 heart of an evil spirit in all matters of deception. 
 I thought at the time ; I really did think ; you flat- 
 tered me. But now I begin to wonder at your dis- 
 cernment, and, vanity apart, do honestly believe you 
 spoke the truth. Did you ever counterfeit extreme 
 ingenuousness and honest indignation ? My dear 
 fellow, you have no conception, if you never did, 
 how faint the effort makes one." 
 
 Mr. Haredale surveyed him with a look of cold 
 contempt. " You may evade an explanation, I 
 know," he said, folding his arms. "Bat I must 
 have it. I can wait." 
 
 " Not at all. Not at all, my good fellow. You 
 shall not wait a moment," returned his friend, as he 
 lazily crossed his legs. "The simplest thing in the 
 world. It lies in a nutshell. Ned has written her
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 339 
 
 a letter — a boyish, honest, sentimental composition, 
 which remains as yet in his desk, because he hasn't 
 had the heart to send it. I have taken the liberty, 
 for which my parental affection and anxiety are a 
 sufficient excuse, and possessed myself of the con- 
 tents. I have described them to your niece (a most 
 enchanting person, Haredale ; quite an angelic crea- 
 ture), with a little coloring and description adapted 
 to our purpose. It's done. You may be quite easy. 
 It's all over. Deprived of their adherents and medi 
 ators ; her pride and jealousy roused to the utmost ; 
 with nobody to undeceive her, and you to confirm 
 me ; you will find that their intercourse will close 
 with her answer. If she receives Ned's letter by 
 to-morrow noon, you may date their parting from to- 
 morrow night. No thanks, I beg ; you owe me none. 
 I have acted for myself; and if I have forwarded 
 our compact with all the ardor even you could have 
 desired, I have done so selfishly, indeed." 
 
 " I curse the compact, as you call it, with my 
 whole heart and soul," returned the other. " It was 
 made in an evil hour. I have bound myself to a lie ; 
 I have leagued myself with you ; and though I did 
 so with a righteous motive, and though it cost me 
 such an effort as haply few men know, I hate and 
 despise myself for the deed." 
 
 " You are very warm," said Mr. Chester with a 
 languid smile. 
 
 " I am warm. I am maddened by your coldness. 
 'Death, Chester, if your blood ran warmer in your 
 veins, and there were no restraints upon me, such as 
 those that hold and drag me back — Well, it is 
 done ; you tell me so, and on such a point I may be- 
 lieve you. When I am most remorseful for this
 
 340 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 treachery, I will think of you and your marriage, 
 and try to justify myself in such remembrances for 
 having torn asunder Emma and your son, at any 
 cost. Our bond is cancelled now, and we may part." 
 
 Mr. Chester kissed his hand gracefully ; and with 
 the same tranquil face he had preserved throughout 
 — even when he had seen his companion so tortured 
 and transported by his passion that his whole frame 
 was shaken — lay in his lounging posture on the 
 seat, and watched him as he walked away. 
 
 " My scapegoat and my drudge at school," he said, 
 raising his head to look after him ; " my friend of 
 later days, who could not keep his mistress when he 
 had won her, and threw me in her way to carry off 
 the prize ; I triumph in the present and the past. 
 Bark on, ill-favored, ill-conditioned cur ; fortune has 
 ever been with me — I like to hear you." 
 
 The spot where they had met was in an avenue 
 of trees. Mr. Haredale, not passing out on either 
 hand, had walked straight on. He chanced to turn 
 his head when at some considerable distance, and 
 seeing that his late companion had by that time 
 risen and was looking after him, stood still, as 
 though he half expected him to follow, and waited 
 for his coming up. 
 
 " It may come to that one day, but not yet," said 
 Mr. Chester, waving his hand, as though they were 
 the best of friends, and turning away. "Not yet, 
 Haredale. Life is pleasant enough to me ; dull and 
 full of heaviness to you. No. To cross swords with 
 such a man — to indulge his humor unless upon ex- 
 tremity — would be weak indeed." 
 
 For all that, he drew his sword as he walked 
 along, and in an absent humor ran his eye from hilt
 
 BAENABY RUDGE. 341 
 
 to point full twenty times. But thoughtfulness 
 begets wrinkles. Remembering this, he soon put it 
 up, smoothed his contracted brow, hummed a gay 
 tune with greater gayety of manner, and was his 
 unruffled self again.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A homely proverb recognizes the existence of a 
 troublesome class of persons who, having an inch 
 conceded them, will take an ell. Not to quote the 
 illustrious examples of those heroic scourges of 
 mankind, whose amiable path in life has been from 
 birth to death through blood, and fire, and ruin, and 
 who would seem to have existed for no better pur- 
 pose than to teach mankind that as the absence of 
 pain is pleasure, so the earth, purged of their pres- 
 ence, may be deemed a blessed place — not to quote 
 such mighty instances, it will be sufficient to refer 
 to old John Willet. 
 
 Old John having long encroached a good standard 
 inch, full measure, on the liberty of Joe, and having 
 snipped off a Flemish ell in the matter of the parole, 
 grew so despotic and so great that his thirst for con- 
 quest knew no bounds. The more young Joe sub- 
 mitted, the more absolute old John became. The 
 ell soon faded into nothing. Yards, furlongs, miles 
 arose ; and on went old John in the pleasantest 
 manner possible, trimming off an exuberance in 
 this place, shearing away some liberty of speech 
 or action in that, and conducting himself in his 
 small way with as much high mightiness and ma- 
 jesty as the most glorious tyrant that ever had his 
 
 342
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 343 
 
 statue reared in the public ways, of ancient or of 
 modern times. 
 
 As great men are urged on to the abuse of power 
 (when they need urging, which is not often) by their 
 flatterers and dependants, so old John was impelled 
 to these exercises of authority by the applause and 
 admiration of his Maypole cronies, who, in the in- 
 tervals of their nightly pipes and pots, would shake 
 their heads and say that Mr. Willet was a father of 
 the good old English sort ; that there were no new- 
 fangled notions or modern ways in him ; that he 
 put them in mind of what their fathers were when 
 they were boys ; that there Avas no mistake about 
 him ; that it would be well for the country if there 
 were more like him, and more was the pity that 
 there were not ; with many other original remarks 
 of that nature. Then they would condescendingly 
 give Joe to understand that it was all for his good, 
 and he would be thankful for it one day ; and, in 
 particular, Mr. Cobb would acquaint him that when 
 he was his age, his father thought no more of giving 
 him a parental kick, or a box on the ears, or a cuff 
 on the head, or some little admonition of that sort, 
 than he did of any other ordinary duty of life ; and 
 he Avould further remark, with looks of great signifi- 
 cance, that but for this judicious bringing up, he 
 might have never been the man he was at that pres- 
 ent speaking ; which was probable enough, as he 
 was, beyond all question, the dullest dog of the 
 party. In short, between old John, and old John's 
 friends, there never was an unfortunate young fel- 
 low so bullied, badgered, worried, fretted, and brow- 
 beaten ; so constantly beset, or made so tired of his 
 life, as poor Joe Willet.
 
 344 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 This had come to be the recognized and estab- 
 lished state of things ; but, as John was very anx- 
 ious to nourish his supremacy before the eyes of 
 Mr. Chester, he did that day exceed himself, and 
 did so goad and chafe his son and heir, that but for 
 Joe's having made a solemn vow to keep his hands 
 in his pockets when they were not otherwise en- 
 gaged, it is impossible to say what he might have 
 done with them. But the longest day has an end, 
 and at length Mr. Chester came downstairs to mount 
 his horse, which was ready at the door. 
 
 As old John was not in the way at the moment, 
 Joe, who was sitting in the bar ruminating on his 
 dismal fate and the manifold perfections of Dolly 
 Varden, ran out to hold the guest's stirrup, and to 
 assist him to mount. Mr. Chester was scarcely in 
 the saddle, and Joe was in the very act of making 
 him a graceful bow, when old John came diving out 
 of the porch, and collared him. 
 
 " None of that, sir," said John, " none of that, sir. 
 No breaking of patroles. How dare you come out 
 of the door, sir, without leave ? You're trying to 
 get away, sir, are you, and to make a traitor of your- 
 self again ? What do you mean, sir ? " 
 
 " Let me go, father," said Joe imploringly, as he 
 marked the smile upon their visitor's face, and ob- 
 served the pleasure his disgrace afforded him. 
 " This is too bad. Who wants to get away ? " 
 
 " Who wants to get away ? " cried John, shaking 
 him. " Why you do, sir, you do. You're the boy, 
 sir," added John, collaring with one hand, and 
 aiding the effect of a farewell bow to the visitor 
 with the other, " that wants to sneak into houses, 
 and stir up differences between noble gentlemen
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 345 
 
 and their sons, are you, eh ? Hold your tongue, 
 
 sir." 
 
 Joe made no effort to reply. It was the crowning 
 circumstance of his degradation. He extricated 
 himself from his father's grasp, darted an angry 
 look at the departing guest, and returned into the 
 house. 
 
 " But for her," thought Joe, as he threw his arms 
 upon a table in the common room, and laid his head 
 upon them, "but for Dolly, who I couldn't bear 
 should think me the rascal they would make me 
 out to be if I ran away, this house and I should part 
 to-night." 
 
 It being evening by this time, Solomon Daisy, 
 Tom Cobb, and Long Parkes were all in the common 
 room too, and had from the window been witnesses 
 of what had just occurred. Mr. Willet, joining 
 them soon afterwards, received the compliments of 
 the company with great composure, and lighting his 
 pipe, sat down among them. 
 
 " We'll see, gentlemen," said John after a long 
 pause, " who's the master of this house, and who 
 isn't. We'll see whether boys are to govern men, or 
 men are to govern boys." 
 
 " And quite right, too," assented Solomon Daisy 
 with some approving nods ; " quite right, Johnny. 
 Very good, Johnny. Well said, Mr. Willet. Brayvo, 
 sir." 
 
 John slowly brought his eyes to bear upon him, 
 looked at him for a long time, and finally made 
 answer, to the unspeakable consternation of his 
 hearers, " When I want encouragement from you, 
 sir, I'll ask you for it. You let me alone, sir. I can 
 get on without you, I hope. Don't you tackle me, 
 sir, if you please."
 
 346 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Don't take it ill, Johnny ; I didn't mean any" 
 harm," pleaded the little man. 
 
 "Very good, sir," said John, more than usually 
 obstinate after his late success. " Never mind, sir. 
 I can stand pretty firm of myself, sir, I believe, 
 without being shored up by you." And, having 
 given utterance to this retort, Mr. Willet fixed his 
 eyes upon the boiler, and fell into a kind of tobacco- 
 trance. 
 
 The spirits of the company being somewhat 
 damped by this embarrassing line of conduct on the 
 part of their host, nothing more was said for a long 
 time ; but at length Mr. Cobb took upon himself 
 to remark, as he rose to knock the ashes out of 
 his pipe, that he hoped Joe would thenceforth 
 learn to obey his father in all things ; that he had 
 found, that day, he was not one of the sort of men 
 who were to be trifled with ; and that he would rec- 
 ommend him, poetically speaking, to mind his eye 
 for the future. 
 
 " I'd recommend you, in return," said Joe, looking 
 up with a flushed face, " not to talk to me." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir," cried Mr. Willet, sud- 
 denly rousing himself, and turning round. 
 
 "I won't, father," cried Joe, smiting the table 
 with his fist, so that the jugs and glasses rung 
 again ; " these things are hard enough to bear from 
 you ; from anybody else I never will endure them 
 any more. Therefore I say, Mr. Cobb, don't talk 
 to me." 
 
 " Why, who are you," said Mr. Cobb sneeringly, 
 " that you're not to be talked to, eh, Joe ? " 
 
 To which Joe returned no answer, but, with a very 
 ominous shake of the head, resumed his old position,
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 347 
 
 which he would have peacefully preserved until the 
 house shut up at night, but that Mr. Cobb, stimu- 
 lated by the wonder of the company at the young 
 man's presumption, retorted with sundry taunts, 
 which proved too much for flesh and blood to bear. 
 Crowding into one moment the vexation and the 
 wrath of years, Joe started up, overturned the table, 
 fell upon his long enemy, pommelled him with all 
 his might and main, and finished by driving him 
 with surprising swiftness against a heap of spittoons 
 in one corner ; plunging into which, head foremost, 
 with a tremendous crash, he lay at full length among 
 the ruins, stunned and motionless. Then, without 
 waiting to receive the compliments of the bystanders 
 on the victory he had won, he retreated to his own 
 bedchamber, and considering himself in a state of 
 siege, piled all the portable furniture against the 
 door by way of barricade. 
 
 " I have done it now," said Joe, as he sat down 
 upon his bedstead and wiped his heated face. " I 
 knew it would come at last. The Maypole and I 
 must part company. I'm a roving vagabond — she 
 hates me forevermore — it's all over!"
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 Pondering on his unhappy lot, Joe sat and lis- 
 tened for a long time, expecting every moment to 
 hear their creaking footsteps on the stairs, or to be 
 greeted by his worthy father with a summons to 
 capitulate unconditionally, and deliver himself up 
 straightway. But neither voice nor footstep came ; 
 and though some distant echoes, as of closing doors 
 and people hurrying in and out of rooms, resounding 
 from time to time through the great passages, and 
 penetrating to his remote seclusion, gave note of 
 unusual commotion downstairs, no nearer sound dis- 
 turbed his place of retreat, which seemed the quieter 
 for these far-off noises, and was as dull and full of 
 gloom as any hermit's cell. 
 
 It came on darker and darker. The old-fashioned 
 furniture of the chamber, which was a kind of hos- 
 pital for all the invalided movables in the house, 
 grew indistinct and shadowy in its many shapes ; 
 chairs and tables, which by day were as honest 
 cripples as need be, assumed a doubtful and mysteri- 
 ous character ; and one old leprous screen of faded 
 India leather and gold binding, which had kept out 
 many a cold breath of air in days of yore, and shut 
 in many a jolly face, frowned on him with a spectral 
 aspect, and stood at full height in its allotted corner, 
 
 343
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 349 
 
 like some gaunt ghost who waited to be questioned. 
 A portrait opposite the window — a queer, old gray- 
 eyed general, in an oval frame — seemed to wink and 
 doze as the light decayed, and at length, when the 
 last faint glimmering speck of day went out, to shut 
 its eyes in good earnest, and fall sound asleep. 
 There was such a hush and mystery about every- 
 thing, that Joe could not help following its exam- 
 ple ; and so went off into a slumber likewise, and 
 dreamed of Dolly, till the clock of Chigwell Church 
 struck two. 
 
 Still nobody came. The distant noises in the 
 house had ceased, and out of doors all was quiet 
 too, save for the occasional barking of some deep- 
 mouthed dog, and the shaking of the branches by 
 the night wind. He gazed mournfully out of win- 
 dow at each well-known object as it lay sleeping in 
 the dim light of the moon ; and creeping back to 
 his former seat, thought about the late uproar, until, 
 with long thinking of, it seemed to have occurred a 
 month ago. Thus, between dozing, and thinking, 
 and walking to the window and looking out, the 
 night wore away ; the grim old screen, and the 
 kindred chairs and tables, began slowly to reveal 
 themselves in their accustomed forms ; the gray- 
 eyed general seemed to wink and yawn and rouse 
 himself ; and at last he was broad awake again, and 
 very uncomfortable and cold and haggard he looked 
 in the dull gray light of morning. 
 
 The sun had begun to peep above the forest trees, 
 and already flung across the curling mist bright 
 bars of gold, when Joe dropped from his window, 
 on the ground below, a little bundle and his trusty 
 stick, and prepared to descend himself.
 
 350 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 It was not a very difficult task ; for there were 
 so many projections and gable-ends in the way, that 
 they formed a series of clumsy steps, with no greater 
 obstacle than a jump of some few feet at last. Joe, 
 with his stick and bundle on his shoulder, quickly 
 stood on the firm earth, and looked up at the old 
 Maypole, it might be for the last time. 
 
 He didn't apostrophize it, for he was no great 
 scholar. He didn't curse it, for he had little ill will 
 to give to anything on earth. He felt more affec- 
 tionate and kind to it than ever he had done in all 
 his life before, so said with all his heart, " God 
 bless you ! " as a parting wish, and turned away. 
 
 He walked along at a brisk pace, big with great 
 thoughts of going for a soldier, and dying in some 
 foreign country where it was very hot and sandy, 
 and leaving God knows what unheard-of wealth in 
 prize-money to Dolly, who would be very much 
 affected when she came to know of it ; and full of 
 such youthful visions, which were sometimes san- 
 guine and sometimes melancholy, but always had 
 her for their main point and centre, pushed on vig- 
 orously until the noise of London sounded in his 
 ears, and the Black Lion hove in sight. 
 
 It was only eight o'clock then, and very much 
 astonished the Black Lion was to see him come 
 walking in with dust upon his feet at that early 
 hour, with no gray mare to bear him company. But 
 as he ordered breakfast to be got ready with all 
 speed, and, on its being set before him, gave indis- 
 putable tokens of a hearty appetite, the Lion re- 
 ceived him, as usual, with a hospitable welcome ; 
 and treated him with those marks of distinction 
 which, as a regular customer, and one within
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 351 
 
 the freemasonry of the trade, he had a right to 
 claim. 
 
 This Lion, or landlord, — for he was called both 
 man and beast, by reason of his having instructed 
 the artist who painted his sign to convey into the 
 features of the lordly brute whose effigy it bore, as 
 near a counterpart of his own face as his skill could 
 compass and devise, — was a gentleman almost as 
 quick of apprehension, and of almost as subtle a 
 wit, as the mighty John himself. But the difference 
 between them lay in this : that whereas Mr. Willet's 
 extreme sagacity and acuteness were the efforts of 
 unassisted nature, the Lion stood indebted, in no 
 small amount, to beer ; of which he swigged such 
 copious draughts, that most of his faculties were 
 utterly drowned and washed away, except the one 
 great faculty of sleep, which he retained in surpris- 
 ing perfection. The creaking Lion over the house- 
 door was, therefore, to say the truth, rather a 
 drowsy, tame, and feeble lion ; and, as these social 
 representatives of a savage class are usually of a 
 conventional character (being depicted, for the most 
 part, in impossible attitudes and of unearthly colors), 
 he was frequently supposed, by the more ignorant 
 and uninformed among the neighbors, to be the 
 veritable portrait of the host as he appeared on the 
 occasion of some great funeral ceremony or public 
 mourning. 
 
 " What noisy fellow is that in the next room ? " 
 said Joe, when he had disposed of his breakfast, and 
 had washed and brushed himself. 
 
 " A recruiting sergeant," replied the Lion. 
 
 Joe started involuntarily. Here was the very 
 thing he had been dreaming of all the way along.
 
 352 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 "And I wish," said the Lion, "he was anywhere 
 else but here. The party make noise enough, but 
 they don't call for much. There's great cry there, 
 Mr. Willet, but very little wool. Your father 
 wouldn't like 'em, i" know." 
 
 Perhaps not much under any circumstances. 
 Perhaps, if he could have known what was passing 
 at that moment in Joe's mind, he would have liked 
 them still less. 
 
 " Is he recruiting for a — for a fine regiment ? " 
 said Joe, glancing at a little round mirror that hung 
 in the bar. 
 
 " I believe he is," replied the host. " It's much 
 the same thing, whatever regiment he's recruiting 
 for. I'm told there ain't a deal of difference be- 
 tween a fine man and another one when they're 
 shot through and through." 
 
 " They're not all shot," said Joe. 
 
 "No," the Lion answered, "not all. Those that 
 are — supposing it's done easy — are the best off in 
 my opinion." 
 
 " Ah ! " retorted Joe, " but you don't care for 
 glory." 
 
 " For what ? " said the Lion. 
 
 " Glory." 
 
 " No," returned the Lion with supreme indiffer- 
 ence. " I don't. You're right in that, Mr. Willet. 
 When Glory comes here, and calls for anything to 
 drink, and changes a guinea to pay for it, I'll give it 
 him for nothing. It's my belief, sir, that the 
 Glory's Arms wouldn't do a very strong business." 
 
 These remarks were not at all comforting. Joe 
 walked out, stopped at the door of the next room, 
 and listened. The sergeant was describing a military
 
 BAEXABY BUDGE. 35 S 
 
 life. It was all drinking, he said, except that there 
 were frequent intervals of eating and love-making. 
 A battle was the finest thing in the world — when 
 your side won it — and Englishmen always did that. 
 " Supposing you should be killed, sir ? " said a timid 
 voice in one corner. "Well, sir, supposing you 
 should be," said the sergeant, " what then ? Your 
 country loves you, sir; his Majesty King George 
 the Third loves you ; your memory is honored, re- 
 vered, respected ; everybody's fond of you, and 
 grateful to you ; your name's wrote down at full 
 length in a book in the War Office. Damme, gen- 
 tlemen, we must all die some time or another, eh ? " 
 
 The voice coughed, and said no more. 
 
 Joe walked into the room. A group of half a 
 dozen fellows had gathered together in the taproom, 
 and were listening with greedy ears. One of them, 
 a carter in a smock-frock, seemed wavering and dis- 
 posed to enlist. The rest, who were by no means 
 disposed, strongly urged him to do so (according to 
 the custom of mankind), backed the sergeant's argu- 
 ments, and grinned among themselves. " I say 
 nothing, boys," said the sergeant, who sat a little 
 apart drinking his liquor. " For lads of spirit " — 
 here he cast an eye on Joe — " this is the time. I 
 don't want to inveigle you. The king's not come to 
 that, I hope. Brisk young blood is what we want ; 
 not milk and water. We won't take five men out 
 of six. We want top-sawyers, we do. I'm not 
 a-going to tell tales out of school, but, damme, if 
 every gentleman's son that carries arms in our 
 corps, through being under a cloud and having little 
 differences with his relations, was counted up — " 
 Here . his eye fell on Joe again, and so good-na- 
 vol. i. -23.
 
 354 BARNABY RtJDGE. 
 
 turedly, that Joe beckoned him out. He came 
 directly. 
 
 " You're a gentleman, by G — ! " was his first 
 remark, as he slapped him on the back. " You're a 
 gentleman in disguise. So am I. Let's swear a 
 friendship." 
 
 Joe didn't exactly do that, but he shook hands 
 with him, and thanked him for his good opinion. 
 
 " You want to serve," said his new friend. " You 
 shall. You were made for it. You're one of us by 
 nature. What'll you take to drink ? " 
 
 " Nothing just now," replied Joe, smiling faintly. 
 " I haven't quite made up my mind." 
 
 " A mettlesome fellow like you, and not made up 
 his mind ! " cried the sergeant. " Here — let me 
 give the bell a pull, and you'll make up your mind 
 in half a minute, I know." 
 
 "You're right so far," answered Joe, "for if you 
 pull the bell here, where I'm known, there'll be an 
 end of my soldiering inclinations in no time. Look 
 in my face. You see me, do you ? " 
 
 " I do," replied the sergeant with an oath, " and a 
 finer young fellow, or one better qualified to serve 
 his king and country, I never set my " — he used an 
 adjective in this place — " eyes on." 
 
 " Thank you," said Joe ; " I didn't ask you for 
 want of a compliment, but thank you all the same. 
 Do I look like a sneaking fellow or a liar ? ' : 
 
 The sergeant rejoined, with many choice assevera- 
 tions, that he didn't ; and that if his (the sergeant's) 
 own father were to say he did, he would run the old 
 gentleman through the body cheerfully, and con- 
 sider it a meritorious action. 
 
 Joe expressed his obligations, and continued,
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 355 
 
 " You can trust me then, and credit what I say. I 
 believe I shall enlist into your regiment to-night. 
 The reason I don't do so now is because I don't 
 want, until to-night, to do what I can't recall. 
 Where shall I find you this evening ? " 
 
 His friend replied with some unwillingness, and 
 after much ineffectual entreaty having for its object 
 the immediate settlement of the business, that his 
 quarters would be at the Crooked Billet, in Tower 
 Street, where he would be found waking until mid- 
 night, and sleeping until breakfast-time to-morrow. 
 
 " And if I do come — which it's a million to one 
 I shall — when will you take me out of London ? " 
 demanded Joe. 
 
 " To-morrow morning, at half after eight o'clock," 
 replied the sergeant. " You'll go abroad — a coun- 
 try where it's all sunshine and plunder — the finest 
 climate in the world." 
 
 " To go abroad," said Joe, shaking hands with 
 him, " is the very thing I want. You may expect 
 me." 
 
 "You're the kind of lad for us," cried the ser- 
 geant, holding Joe's hand in his, in the excess of his 
 admiration. " You're the boy to push your fortune. 
 I don't say it because I bear you any envy, or would 
 take away from the credit of the rise you'll make, 
 but if I had been bred and taught like you, I'd have 
 been a colonel by this time." 
 
 " Tush, man ! " said Joe ; " I'm not so young as 
 that. Needs must when the devil drives ; and the 
 devil that drives me is an empty pocket and an un- 
 happy home. For the present, good-by." 
 
 " For king and country ! " cried the sergeant, 
 flourishing his cap.
 
 356 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " For bread and meat ! " cried Joe, snapping his 
 fingers. And so they parted. 
 
 He had very little money in his pocket ; so little, 
 indeed, that after paying for his breakfast (which 
 he was too honest, and perhaps too proud, to score 
 up to his father's charge) he had but a penny left. 
 He had courage, notwithstanding, to resist all the 
 affectionate importunities of the sergeant, who way- 
 laid him at the door with many protestations of 
 eternal friendship, and did in particular request that 
 he would do him the favor to accept of only one 
 shilling as a temporary accommodation. Rejecting 
 his offers both of cash and credit, Joe walked away 
 with stick and bundle as before, bent upon getting 
 through the day as he best could, and going down 
 to the locksmith's in the dusk of the evening ; for 
 it should go hard, he had resolved, but he would 
 have a parting word with charming Dolly Varden. 
 
 He went out by Islington, and so on to Highgate, 
 and sat on many stones and gates, but there were no 
 voices in the bells to bid him turn. Since the time 
 of noble Whittington, fair flower of merchants, 
 bells have come to have less sympathy with human- 
 kind. They only ring for money and on state occa- 
 sions. Wanderers have increased in number ; ships 
 leave the Thames for distant regions, carrying from 
 stem to stern no other cargo ; the bells are silent ; 
 they ring out no entreaties or regrets ; they are 
 used to it, and have grown worldly. 
 
 Joe bought a roll, and reduced his purse to the 
 condition (with a difference) of that celebrated 
 purse of Fortunatus, which, whatever were its 
 favored owner's necessities, had one unvarying 
 amount in it. In these real times, when all the
 
 BARNABY KDDGE. 357 
 
 Fairies are dead and buried, there are still a great 
 many purses which possess that quality. The sum- 
 total they contain is expressed in arithmetic by a 
 circle, and whether it be added to. or multiplied by 
 its own amount, the result of the problem is more 
 easily stated than any known in figures. 
 
 Evening drew on at last. With the desolate and 
 solitary feeling of one who had no home or shelter, 
 and was alone utterly in the world for the first time, 
 he bent his steps towards the locksmith's house. 
 He had delayed till now, knowing that Mrs. Varden 
 sometimes went out alone, or with Miggs for her 
 sole attendant, to lectures in the evening ; and 
 devoutly hoping that this might be one of her 
 nights of moral culture. 
 
 He had walked up and down before the house, on 
 the opposite side of the way, two or three times, 
 when, as he returned to it again, he caught a glimpse 
 of a fluttering skirt at the door. It was Dolly's. 
 To whom else could it belong ? No dress but hers 
 had such a flow as that. He plucked up his spirits, 
 and followed it into the workshop of the Golden 
 Key. 
 
 His darkening the door caused her to look round. 
 Oh that face ! " If it hadn't been for that," thought 
 Joe, " I should never have walked into poor Tom 
 Cobb. She's twenty times handsomer than ever. 
 She might marry a lord ! " 
 
 He didn't say this. He only thought it — per- 
 haps looked it also. Dolly was glad to see him, 
 and was so sorry her father and mother were away 
 from home. Joe begged she wouldn't mention it on 
 any account. 
 
 Dolly hesitated to lead the way into the parlor,
 
 358 BARNABY KUDGE. 
 
 for there it was nearly dark ; at the same time, she 
 hesitated to stand talking in the workshop, which 
 was yet light and open to the street. They had got 
 by some means, too, before the little forge ; and Joe 
 having her hand in his (which he had no right to 
 have, for Dolly only gave it him to shake), it was so 
 like standing before some homely altar being mar- 
 ried, that it was the most embarrassing state of 
 things in the world. 
 
 " I have come," said Joe, " to say good-by — to 
 say good-by for I don't know how many years ; per- 
 haps forever. I am going abroad." 
 
 Now this was exactly what he should not have 
 said. Here he was, talking like a gentleman at 
 large who was free to come and go and roam about 
 the world at his pleasure, when that gallant coach- 
 maker had vowed, but the night before, that Miss 
 Varden held him bound in adamantine chains ; and 
 had positively stated in so many words that she was 
 killing him by inches, and that in a fortnight more, 
 or thereabouts, he expected to make a decent end, 
 and leave the business to his mother. 
 
 Dolly released her hand and said " Indeed !" She 
 remarked in the same breath that it was a fine night, 
 and, in short, betrayed no more emotion than the 
 forge itself. 
 
 "I couldn't go," said Joe, "without coming to see 
 you. I hadn't the heart to." 
 
 Dolly was more sorry than she could tell, that he 
 should have taken so much trouble. It was such a 
 long way, and he must have such a deal to do. And 
 how was Mr. Willet — that dear old gentleman — 
 
 " Is this all you say ? " cried Joe. 
 
 All ! Good gracious, what did the man expect ?
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 359 
 
 She was obliged to take her apron in her hand, and 
 run her eyes along the hem from corner to corner, 
 to keep herself from laughing in his face ; — not 
 because his gaze confused her — not at all. 
 
 Joe had small experience in love affairs, and had 
 no notion how different young ladies are at different 
 times ! he had expected to take Dolly up again at 
 the very point where he had left her after that deli- 
 cious evening ride, and was no more prepared for 
 such an alteration than to see the sun and moon 
 change places. He had buoyed himself up all day 
 with an indistinct idea that she would certainly say 
 "Don't go," or "Don't leave us," or "Why do you 
 go ? " or " Why do you leave us ? " or would give 
 him some little encouragement of that sort ; he had 
 even entertained the possibility of her bursting 
 into tears, of her throwing herself into his arms, 
 of her falling down in a fainting fit without 
 previous word or sign ; but any approach to such 
 a line of conduct as this had been so far from his 
 thoughts, that he could only look at her in silent 
 wonder. 
 
 Dolly in the mean while turned to the corners of 
 her apron, and measured the sides, and smoothed 
 out the wrinkles, and was as silent as he. At last, 
 after a long pause, Joe said good-by. " Good-by," 
 said Dolly, with as pleasant a smile as if he were 
 going into the next street, and were coming back to 
 supper ; " good-by." 
 
 "Come," said Joe, putting out both his hands, 
 "Dolly, dear Dolly, don't let us part like this. I 
 love you dearly, with all my heart and soul ; with 
 as much truth and earnestness as ever man loved 
 woman in this world, I do believe. I am a poor
 
 360 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 fellow, as you know — poorer now than ever, for I 
 have fled from home, not being able to bear it any- 
 longer, and must fight my own way without help. 
 You are beautiful, admired, are loved by everybody, 
 are well off and happy ; and may you ever be so ! 
 Heaven forbid I should ever make you otherwise; 
 but give me a word of comfort. Say something 
 kind to me. I have no right to expect it of you, I 
 know, but I ask it because I love you, and shall 
 treasure the slightest word from you all through 
 my life. Dolly, dearest, have you nothing to say to 
 me?" 
 
 No. Nothing. Dolly was a coquette by na- 
 ture, and a spoilt child. She had no notion of 
 being carried by storm in this way. The coach- 
 maker would have been dissolved in tears, and 
 would have knelt down, and called himself names, 
 and clasped his hands, and beat his breast, and 
 tugged wildly at his cravat, and done all kinds of 
 poetry. Joe had no business to be going abroad. 
 He had no right to be able to do it. If he was in 
 adamantine chains, he couldn't. 
 
 "I have said good-by," said Dolly, "twice. Take 
 your arm away directly, Mr. Joseph, or I'll call 
 Miggs." 
 
 " I'll not reproach you," answered Joe ; " it's my 
 fault, no doubt. I have thought sometimes that you 
 didn't quite despise me, but I was a fool to think 
 so. Every one must who has seen the life I have 
 led — you most of all. God bless you ! " 
 
 He was gone, actually gone. Dolly waited a 
 little while, thinking he would return, peeped out 
 at the door, looked up the street and down as well 
 as the increasing darkness would allow, came in
 
 1VI & 1 
 
 J J
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 361 
 
 again, waited a little longer, went upstairs hum- 
 ming a tune, bolted herself in, laid her head down 
 on her bed, and cried as if her heart would break. 
 'And yet such natures are made up of so many con- 
 tradictions, that if Joe Willet had come back that 
 night, next day, next week, next month, the odds 
 are a hundred to one she would have treated him in 
 the very same manner, and have wept for it after- 
 wards with the very same distress. 
 
 She had no sooner left the workshop than there 
 cautiously peered out, from behind the chimney of 
 the forge, a face which had already emerged from 
 the same concealment twice or thrice unseen, and 
 which, after satisfying itself that it was now alone, 
 was followed by a leg, a shoulder, and so on by 
 degrees, until the form of Mr. Tappertit stood con- 
 fessed, with a brown-paper cap stuck negligently on 
 one side of its head, and its arms very much 
 a-kimbo. 
 
 " Have my ears deceived me," said the 'prentice, 
 " or do I dream ? Am I to thank thee, Fortun', or 
 to cuss thee — which ? " 
 
 He gravely descended from his elevation, took 
 down his piece of looking-glass, planted it against 
 the wall upon the usual bench, twisted his head 
 round, and looked closely at his legs. 
 
 "If they're a dream," said Sim, "let sculptures 
 have such wisions, and chisel 'em out when they 
 wake. This is reality. Sleep has no such limbs as 
 them. Tremble, Willet, and despair. She's mine! 
 She's mine ! " 
 
 With these triumphant expressions, he seized a 
 hammer and dealt a heavy blow at a vice, which in 
 his mind's eye represented the sconce or head of
 
 362 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Joseph Willet. That done, he burst into a peal of 
 laughter which startled Miss Miggs even in her dis- 
 tant kitchen, and dipping his head into a bowl of 
 water, had recourse to a jack-towel inside the closet 
 door, which served the double purpose of smother- 
 ing his feelings and drying his face. 
 
 Joe, disconsolate and down-hearted, but full of 
 courage too, on leaving the locksmith's house, made 
 the best of his way to the Crooked Billet, and there 
 inquired for his friend the sergeant, who, expecting 
 no man less, received him with open arms. In the 
 course of five minutes after his arrival at that house 
 of entertainment, he was enrolled among the gallant 
 defenders of his native land ; and within half an 
 hour was regaled with a steaming supper of boiled 
 tripe and onions, prepared, as his friend assured 
 him more than once, at the express command of 
 his most Sacred Majesty the King. To this meal, 
 which tasted very savory after his long fasting, he 
 did ample justice ; and when he had followed it up, 
 or down, with a variety of loyal and patriotic toasts, 
 he was conducted to a straw mattress in a loft over 
 the stable, and locked in there for the night. 
 
 The next morning, he found that the obliging 
 care of his martial friend had decorated his hat 
 with sundry party-colored streamers, which made a 
 very lively appearance ; and in company with that 
 officer, and three other military gentlemen newly 
 enrolled, who were under a cloud so dense that it 
 only left three shoes, a boot, and a coat and a half 
 visible among them, repaired to the river-side. 
 Here they were joined by a corporal and four more 
 heroes, of whom two were drunk and daring, and 
 two sober and penitent, but each of whom, like Joe,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 363 
 
 had his dusty stick and bundle. The party em- 
 barked in a passage-boat bound for Gravesend, 
 whence they were to proceed on foot to Chatham ; 
 the wind was in their favor, and they soon left Lon- 
 don behind them, a mere dark mist — a giant phan- 
 tom in the air.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Misfortunes, saith the adage, never come singly. 
 There is little doubt that troubles are exceedingly 
 gregarious in their nature, and flying in flocks, are 
 apt to perch capriciously ; crowding on the heads of 
 some poor wights until there is not an inch of room 
 left on their unlucky crowns, and taking no more 
 notice of others, who offer as good resting-places for 
 the soles of their feet, than if they had no existence. 
 It may have happened that a flight of troubles 
 brooding over London, and looking out for Joseph 
 Willet, whom they couldn't find, darted down hap- 
 hazard on the first young man that caught their 
 fancy, and settled on him instead. However this 
 may be, certain it is that on the very day of Joe's 
 departure they swarmed about the ears of Edward 
 Chester, and did so buzz and flap their wings, and 
 persecute him, that he was most profoundly 
 wretched. 
 
 It was evening, and just eight o'clock, when he 
 and his father, having wine and dessert set before 
 them, were left to themselves for the first time that 
 day. They had dined together, but a third person 
 had been present during the meal, and until they 
 met at table they had not seen each other since the 
 
 previous night. 
 
 364
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 365 
 
 Edward was reserved and silent, Mr. Chester was 
 more than usually gay ; but not caring, as it seemed, 
 to open a conversation with one whose humor was 
 so different, he vented the lightness of his spirit in 
 smiles and sparkling looks, and made no effort to 
 awaken his attention. So they remained for some 
 time : the father lying on a sofa with his accustomed 
 air of graceful negligence ; the son seated opposite 
 to him with downcast eyes, busied, it was plain, 
 with painful and uneasy thoughts. 
 
 " My dear Edward," said Mr. Chester at length, 
 with a most engaging laugh, "do not extend your 
 drowsy influence to the decanter. Suffer that to cir- 
 culate, let your spirits be never so stagnant." 
 
 Edward begged his pardon, passed it, and relapsed 
 into his former state. 
 
 " You do wrong not to fill your glass," said Mr. 
 Chester, holding up his own before the light. 
 " Wine in moderation — not in excess, for that 
 makes men ugly — has a thousand pleasant influ- 
 ences. It brightens the eye, improves the voice, 
 imparts a new vivacity to one's thoughts and con- 
 versation : you should try it, Ned." 
 
 " Ah, father ! " cried his son, " if — " 
 
 " My good fellow," interposed the parent hastily, 
 as he set down his glass, and raised his eyebrows 
 with a startled and horrified expression, "for 
 Heaven's sake don't call me by that obsolete and 
 ancient name. Have some regard for delicacy. Am 
 I gray, or wrinkled, do I go on crutches, have I lost 
 my teeth, that you adopt such a mode of address ? 
 Good God, how very coarse ! " 
 
 " I was about to speak to you from my heart, 
 sir," returned Edward, "in the confidence which
 
 366 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 should subsist between us ; and you check me in 
 the outset." 
 
 "Now do, Ned, do not," said Mr. Chester, raising 
 his delicate hand imploringly, "talk in that mon- 
 strous manner. About to speak from your heart ! 
 Don't you know that the heart is an ingenious part 
 of our formation — the centre of the blood-vessels 
 and all that sort of thing — which has no more to 
 do with what you say or think than your knees 
 have ? How can you be so very vulgar and absurd ? 
 These anatomical allusions should be left to gentle- 
 men of the medical profession. They are really not 
 agreeable in society. You quite surprise me, Ned." 
 
 " Well ! there are no such things to wound, or 
 heal, or have regard for. I know your creed, sir, 
 and will say no more," returned his son. 
 
 " There again," said Mr. Chester, sipping his 
 wine, "you are wrong. I distinctly say there are 
 such things. We know there are. The hearts of 
 animals — of bullocks, sheep, and so forth — are 
 cooked and devoured, as I am told, by the lower 
 classes, with a vast deal of relish. Men are some- 
 times stabbed to the heart, shot to the heart ; but 
 as to speaking from the heart, or to the heart, or 
 being warm-hearted, or cold-hearted, or broken- 
 hearted, or being all heart, or having no heart — 
 pah ! these things are nonsense, Ned." 
 
 " No doubt, sir," returned his son, seeing that he 
 paused for him to speak. " No doubt." 
 
 " There's Haredale's niece, your late flame," said 
 Mr. Chester, as a careless illustration of his mean- 
 ing. "No doubt in your mind she was all heart 
 once. Now she has none at all. Yet she is the 
 same person, Ned, exactly."
 
 A ' 

 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 367 
 
 " She is a changed person, sir," cried Edward, 
 reddening ; " and changed by vile means, I be- 
 lieve." 
 
 "You have had a cool dismissal, have you?" 
 said his father. " Poor Ned ! I told you last night 
 what would happen. — May I ask you for the nut- 
 crackers ? " 
 
 " She has been tampered with, and most treacher- 
 ously deceived," cried Edward, rising from his seat. 
 " I never will believe that the knowledge of my 
 real position, given her by myself, has worked this 
 change. I know she is beset and tortured. But 
 though our contract is at an end, and broken past 
 all redemption ; though I charge upon her want of 
 firmness and Avant of truth, both to herself and me ; 
 I do not now, and never will believe that any sordid 
 motive, or her own unbiassed will, has led her to 
 this course — never ! " 
 
 " You make me blush," returned his father gayly, 
 " for the folly of your nature, in which — but we 
 never know ourselves — I devoutly hope there is no 
 reflection of my own. With regard to the young 
 lady herself, she has done what is very natural and 
 proper, my dear fellow ; what you yourself proposed, 
 as I learn from Haredale ; and what I predicted — 
 with no great exercise of sagacity — she would do. 
 She supposed you to be rich, or at least quite rich 
 enough ; and found you poor. Marriage is a civil 
 contract ; people marry to better their worldly con- 
 dition and improve appearances ; it is an affair of 
 house and furniture, of liveries, servants, equipage, 
 and so forth. The lady being poor, and you poor 
 also, there is an end of the matter. You cannot 
 enter upon these considerations, and have no manner
 
 368 BAKNABY KUDGE. 
 
 of business with the ceremony. I drink her health 
 in this glass, and respect and honor her for her 
 extreme good sense. It is a lesson to you. Fill 
 yours, ISTed." 
 
 "It is a lesson," returned his son, "by which I 
 hope I may never profit, and if years and their ex- 
 perience impress it on — " 
 
 " Don't say on the heart," interposed his father. 
 
 " On men whom the world and its hypocrisy have 
 spoiled," said Edward warmly, "Heaven keep me 
 from its knowledge." 
 
 "Come, sir," returned his father, raising himself 
 a little on the sofa, and looking straight towards 
 him ; " we have had enough of this. Remember, if 
 you please, your interest, your duty, your moral 
 obligations, your filial affections, and all that sort of 
 thing, which it is so very delightful and charming 
 to reflect upon ; or you will repent it." 
 
 " I shall never repent the preservation of my self- 
 respect, sir," said Edward. " Forgive me if I say 
 that I will not sacrifice it at your bidding, and that 
 I will not pursue the track which you would have 
 me take, and to which the secret share you have 
 had in this late separation tends." 
 
 His father rose a little higher still, and looking 
 at him as though curious to know if he were quite 
 resolved and earnest, dropped gently down again, 
 and said in the calmest voice — eating his nuts 
 meanwhile, — 
 
 "Edward, my father had a son who, being a fool 
 like you, and, like yon, entertaining low and dis- 
 obedient sentiments, he disinherited and cursed one 
 morning after breakfast. The circumstance occurs 
 to me with a singular clearness of recollection this
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 369 
 
 evening. I remember eating muffins at the time, 
 with marmalade. He led a miserable life (the son 
 I mean), and died early : it was a happy release on 
 all accounts ; he degraded the family very much. 
 It is a sad circumstance, Edward, when a father 
 finds it necessary to resort to such strong meas- 
 ures." 
 
 "It is," replied Edward, "and it is sad when a 
 son, proffering him his love and duty in their best 
 and truest sense, finds himself repelled at every 
 turn, and forced to disobey. Dear father," he 
 added more earnestly, though in a gentler tone, 
 " I have reflected many times on what occurred 
 between us when we first discussed this subject. 
 Let there be a confidence between us ; not in terms, 
 but truth. Hear what I have to say." 
 
 " As I anticipate what it is, and cannot fail to do 
 so, Edward," returned his father coldly, " I decline. 
 I couldn't possibly. I am sure it would put me 
 out of temper, which is a state of mind I can't en- 
 dure. If you intend to mar my plans for your 
 establishment in life, and the preservation of that 
 gentility and becoming pride which our family have 
 so long sustained — if, in short, you are resolved to 
 take your own course, you must take it, and my 
 curse with it. I am very sorry, but there's really 
 no alternative." 
 
 " The curse may pass your lips," said Edward, 
 " but it will be but empty breath. I do not believe 
 that any man on earth has greater power to call one 
 down upon his fellow — least of all upon his own 
 child — than he has to make one drop of rain or 
 flake of snow fall from the clouds above us at his 
 impious bidding. Beware, sir, what you do." 
 vol. i.-24.
 
 370 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 "You are so very irreligious, so exceedingly un- 
 dutiful, so horribly profane," rejoined his father, 
 turning his face lazily towards him, and cracking 
 another nut, " that I positively must interrupt you 
 here. It is quite impossible we can continue to go 
 on upon such terms as these. If you will do me 
 the favor to ring the bell, the servant will show } r ou 
 to the door. Return to this roof no more, I beg 
 you. Go, sir, since you have no moral sense remain- 
 ing ; and go to the Devil, at my express desire. 
 Good-day." 
 
 Edward left the room without another word or 
 look, and turned his back upon the house forever. 
 
 The father's face was slightly flushed and heated, 
 but his manner was quite unchanged, as he rang 
 the bell again, and addressed his servant on his 
 entrance. 
 
 "Peak — if that gentleman who has just gone 
 out — " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, Mr. Edward ? " 
 
 " Were there more than one, dolt, that you ask 
 the question? — If that gentleman should send here 
 for his wardrobe, let him have it, do you hear ? If 
 he should call himself at any time, I'm not at home. 
 You'll tell him so, and shut the door." 
 
 So, it soon got whispered about that Mr. Chester 
 was very unfortunate in his son, who had occasioned 
 him great grief and sorrow. And the good people 
 who heard this, and told it again, marvelled the 
 more at his equanimity and even temper, and said 
 what an amiable nature that man must have, who, 
 having undergone so much, could be so placid and 
 so calm. And when Edward's name was spoken,
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 371 
 
 Society shook its head and laid its finger on its lip, 
 and sighed, and looked very grave ; and those who 
 had sons about his age waxed wrathful and indignant, 
 and hoped, for Virtue's sake, that he was dead. 
 And the world went on turning round, as usual, for 
 five years, concerning which this Narrative is silent.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 On t e wintry evening, early in the year of our Lord 
 one thousand seven hundred and eighty, a keen 
 north wind arose as it grew dark, and night came on 
 with black and dismal looks. A bitter storm of 
 sleet, sharp, dense, and icy-cold, swept the wet 
 streets, and rattled on the trembling windows. Sign- 
 boards, shaken past endurance in their creaking 
 frames, fell crashing on the pavement ; old tottering 
 chimneys reeled and staggered in the blast ; and 
 many a steeple rocked again that night, as though 
 the earth were troubled. 
 
 It was not a time for those who could by any 
 means get light and warmth to brave the fury of the 
 weather. In coffee-houses of the better sort guests 
 crowded round the fire, forgot to be political, and 
 told each other with a secret gladness that the blast 
 grew fiercer every minute. Each humble tavern by 
 the water-side had its group of uncouth figures round 
 the hearth ; who talked of vessels foundering at 
 sea, and all hands lost, related many a dismal tale 
 of shipwreck and drowned men, and hoped that 
 some they knew were safe, and shook their heads 
 in doubt. In private dwellings children clustered 
 near the blaze ; listening with timid pleasure to 
 tales of ghosts and goblins and tall figures clad in 
 
 372
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 373 
 
 white standing by bedsides, and people who had 
 gone to sleep in old churches, and being overlooked, 
 had found themselves alone there at the dead hour 
 of the night : until they shuddered at the thought 
 of the dark rooms upstairs, yet loved to hear the 
 wind moan too, and hoped it would continue bravely. 
 From time to time these happy indoor people 
 stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried 
 " Hark ! " and then, above the rumbling in the 
 chimney and the fast pattering on the glass, was 
 heard a wailing, rushing sound, which shook the 
 walls as though a giant's hand were on them ; then 
 a hoarse roar as if the sea had risen; then such 
 a whirl and tumult that the air seemed mad ; and 
 then, with a lengthened howl, the waves of wind 
 swept on, and left a moment's interval of rest. 
 
 Cheerily, though there were none abroad to see 
 it, shone the Maypole light that evening. Blessings 
 on the red — deep ruby, glowing red — old curtain 
 of the window ; blending into one rich stream of 
 brightness fire and candle, meat, drink, and company, 
 and gleaming like a jovial eye upon the bleak waste 
 out of doors ! Within, what carpet like its crunch- 
 ing sand, what music merry as its crackling logs, 
 what perfume like its kitchen's dainty breath, what 
 weather genial as its hearty warmth ? Blessings 
 on the old house, how sturdily it stood ! How did 
 the vexed wind chafe and roar about its stalwart 
 roof ; how did it pant and strive with its wide chim- 
 neys, which still poured forth, from their hospitable 
 throats, great clouds of smoke, and puffed defiance 
 in its face ; how, above all, did it drive and rattle at 
 the casement, emulous to extinguish that cheerful 
 glow, which would not be put down, and seemed the 
 brighter for the conflict !
 
 374 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 The profusion too, the rich and lavish bounty, of 
 that goodly tavern ! It was not enough that one 
 fire roared and sparkled on its spacious hearth ; in 
 the tiles which paved and compassed it, five 
 hundred nickering fires burnt brightly also. It was 
 not enough that one red curtain shut the wild 
 night out, and shed its cheerful influence on the 
 room. In every saucepan lid, and candlestick, and 
 vessel of copper, brass, or tin that hung upon the 
 walls, were countless ruddy hangings, flashing and 
 gleaming with every motion of the blaze, and offer- 
 ing, let the eye wander where it might, interminable 
 vistas of the same rich color. The old oak wainscot- 
 ing, the beams, the chairs, the seats, reflected it in 
 a deep dull glimmer. There were fires and red 
 curtains in the very eyes of the drinkers, in their 
 buttons, in their liquor, in the pipes they smoked. 
 
 Mr. Willet sat in what had been his accustomed 
 place five years before, with his eyes on the eternal 
 boiler; and had sat there since the clock struck 
 eight, giving no other signs of life than breathing 
 with a loud and constant snore (though he was wide 
 awake), and from time to time putting his glass to 
 his lips, or knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and 
 filling it anew. It was now half-past ten. Mr. 
 Cobb and long Phil Parkes were his companions, as 
 of old, and for two mortal hours and a half none of 
 the company had pronounced one word. 
 
 Whether people, by dint of sitting together in the 
 same place and the same relative positions, and 
 doing exactly the same things for a great many 
 years, acquire a sixth sense, or some unknown 
 power of influencing each other which serves them 
 in its stead, is a question for philosophy to settle.
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 375 
 
 But certain it. is that old John Willet, Mr. Parkes, 
 and Mr. Cobb were one and all firmly of opinion 
 that they were very jolly companions — rather 
 choice spirits than otherwise ; that they looked at 
 each other every now and then as if there were a 
 perpetual interchange of ideas going on among 
 them ; that no man considered himself or his neigh- 
 bor by any means silent ; and that each of them 
 nodded occasionally when he caught the eye of 
 another, as if he would say, " You have expressed 
 yourself extremely well, sir, in relation to that 
 sentiment, and I quite agree with you." 
 
 The room was so very warm, the tobacco so very 
 good, and the fire so very soothing, that Mr. Willet 
 by degrees began to doze ; but as he had perfectly 
 acquired, by dint of long habit, the art of smoking 
 in his sleep, and as his breathing was pretty much 
 the same, awake or asleep, saving that in the latter 
 case he sometimes experienced a slight difficulty in 
 respiration (such as a carpenter meets with when he 
 is planing and comes to a knot), neither of his 
 companions was aware of the circumstance until he 
 met with one of these impediments, and was obliged 
 to try again. 
 
 "Johnny's dropped off," said Mr. Parkes in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " Fast as a top," said Mr. Cobb. 
 
 Neither of them said any more until Mr. Willet 
 came to another knot — one of surpassing obduracy 
 — which bade fair to throw him into convulsions, 
 but which he got over at last without waking, by an 
 effort quite superhuman. 
 
 " He sleeps uncommon hard," said Mr. Cobb. 
 
 Mr. ParkeSj who was possibly a hard sleeper him-
 
 376 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 self, replied with some disdain, " Not a bit on it ; " 
 and directed his eyes towards a handbill pasted over 
 the chimney-piece, which was decorated at the top 
 with a woodcut representing a youth of tender years 
 running away very fast, with a bundle over his 
 shoulder at the end of a stick, and — to carry out 
 the idea — a finger-post and a milestone beside him. 
 Mr. Cobb likewise turned his eyes in the same direc- 
 tion, and surveyed the placard as if that were the 
 first time he had ever beheld it. Now, this was a 
 document which Mr. Willet had himself indited on 
 the disappearance of his son Joseph, acquainting the 
 nobility and gentry and the public in general with 
 the circumstances of his having left his home ; de- 
 scribing his dress and appearance ; and offering a 
 reward of five pounds to any person or persons who 
 would pack him up and return him safely to the 
 Maypole at Chigwell, or lodge him in any of his 
 Majesty's jails until such time as his father should 
 come and claim him. In this advertisement Mr. 
 Willet had obstinately persisted, despite the advice 
 and entreaties of his friends, in describing his son 
 as a " young boy ; " and furthermore as being from 
 eighteen inches to a couple of feet shorter than he 
 really was ; two circumstances which perhaps ac- 
 counted, in some degree, for its never having been 
 productive of any other effect than the transmission 
 to Chigwell at various times, and at a vast expense, 
 of some five and forty runaways varying from six 
 years old to twelve. 
 
 Mr. Cobb and Mr. Parkes looked mysteriously at 
 this composition, at each other, and at old John. 
 From the time he had pasted it up with his own 
 hands, Mr. Willet had never by word or sign alluded
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 377 
 
 to the subject, or encouraged any one else to do so. 
 Nobody had the least notion what his thoughts or 
 opinions were connected with it ; whether he re- 
 membered it or forgot it ; whether he had any idea 
 that such an event had ever taken place. There- 
 fore, even while he slept, no one ventured to refer 
 to it in his presence ; and for such sufficient reasons, 
 these his chosen friends were silent now. 
 
 Mr. Willet had got by this time into such a com- 
 plication of knots, that it was perfectly clear he 
 must wake or die. He chose the former alterna- 
 tive, and opened his eyes. 
 
 "If he don't come in five minutes," said John, "I 
 shall have supper without him." 
 
 The antecedent of this pronoun had been men- 
 tioned for the last time at eight o'clock. Messrs. 
 Parkes and Cobb, being used to this style of con- 
 versation, replied without difficulty that to be sure 
 Solomon was very late, and they wondered what had 
 happened to detain him. 
 
 "He ain't blown away, I suppose," said Parkes. 
 "It's enough to carry a man of his figure off his 
 legs, and easy too. Do you hear it ? It blows 
 great guns, indeed. There'll be many a crash in 
 the Forest to-night, I reckon, and many a broken 
 branch upon the ground to-morrrow." 
 
 " It won't break anything in the Maypole, I take 
 it, sir," returned old John. " Let it try. I give it 
 leave. What's that ? " 
 
 " The wind," cried Parkes. " It's howling like a 
 Christian, and has been all night long." 
 
 "Did you ever, sir," asked John, after a minute's 
 contemplation, " hear the wind say ' Maypole ' ? " 
 
 " Why, what man ever did ? " said Parkes.
 
 378 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 "Nor 'ahoy,' perhaps ? " added John. 
 
 "No. Nor that neither." 
 
 "Very good, sir," said Mr. Willet, perfectly un- 
 moved; "then if that was the wind just now, and 
 you'll wait a little time without speaking, you'll 
 hear it say both words very plain." 
 
 Mr. Willet was right. After listening for a few 
 moments, they could clearly hear, above the roar 
 and tumult out of doors, this shout repeated ; and 
 that with a shrillness and energy which denoted 
 that it came from some person in great distress or 
 terror. They looked at each other, turned pale, and 
 held their breath. No man stirred. 
 
 It was in this emergency that Mr. Willet dis- 
 played something of that strength of mind and 
 plenitude of mental resource which rendered him 
 the admiration of all his friends and neighbors. 
 After looking at Messrs. Parkes and Cobb for some 
 time in silence, he clapped his two hands to his 
 cheeks, and sent forth a roar which made the glasses 
 dance and rafters ring — a long-sustained, discord- 
 ant bellow, that rolled onward with the wind, and 
 startling every echo, made the night a hundred 
 times more boisterous — a deep, loud, dismal bray, 
 that sounded like a human gong. Then, with every 
 vein in his head and face swollen with the great 
 exertion, and his countenance suffused with a lively 
 purple, he drew a little nearer to the fire, and turn- 
 ing his back upon it, said with dignity, — 
 
 "If that's any comfort to anybody, they're wel- 
 come to it. If it ain't, I'm sorry for 'em. If either 
 of you two gentlemen likes to go out and see what's 
 the matter, you can. I'm not curious myself." 
 
 While he spoke the cry drew nearer and nearer,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 379 
 
 footsteps passed the window, the latch of the door 
 was raised, it opened, was violently shut again, and 
 Solomon Daisy, with a lighted lantern in his hand, 
 and the rain streaming from his disordered dress, 
 dashed into the room. 
 
 A more complete picture of terror than the little 
 man presented, it would be difficult to imagine. 
 The perspiration stood in beads upon his face, his 
 knees knocked together, his every limb trembled, 
 the power of articulation was quite gone ; and there 
 he stood, panting for breath, gazing on them with 
 such livid ashy looks, that they were infected with 
 his fear, though ignorant of its occasion, and, reflect- 
 ing his dismayed and horror-stricken visage, stared 
 back again without venturing to question him ; until 
 old John Willet, in a fit of temporary insanity, made 
 a dive at his cravat, and seizing him by that portion 
 of his dress, shook him to and fro until his very 
 teeth appeared to rattle in his head. 
 
 " Tell us what's the matter, sir," said John, " or 
 I'll kill you. Tell us what's the matter, sir, or in 
 another second I'll have your head under the biler. 
 How dare you look like that ? Is anybody a fol- 
 lowing of you ? What do you mean ? Say some- 
 thing, or I'll be the death of you, I will." 
 
 Mr. Willet, in his frenzy, was so near keeping his 
 word to the very letter (Solomon Daisy's eyes 
 already beginning to roll in an alarming manner, 
 and certain guttural sounds, as of a choking man, 
 to issue from his throat), that the two bystanders, 
 recovering in some degree, plucked him off his vic- 
 tim by main force, and placed the little clerk of 
 Chigwell in a chair. Directing a fearful gaze all 
 round the room, he implored them in a faint voice
 
 380 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 to give him some drink ; and above all to lock the 
 house-door and close and bar the shutters of the 
 room without a moment's loss of time. The latter 
 request did not tend to re-assure his hearers, or to 
 fill them with the most comfortable sensations ; 
 they complied with it, however, with the greatest 
 expedition ; and having handed him a bumper of 
 brandy and water, nearly boiling hot, waited to hear 
 what he might have to tell them. 
 
 " Oh, Johnny ! " said Solomon, shaking him by 
 the hand. " Oh, Parkes ! Oh, Tommy Cobb ! 
 Why did I leave this house to-night ! On the 
 nineteenth of March — of all nights in the year, on 
 the nineteenth of March ! " 
 
 They all drew closer to the fire. Parkes, who was 
 nearest to the door, started and looked over his 
 shoulder. Mr. Willet, with great indignation, 
 inquired what the devil he meant by that — and 
 then said, " God forgive me," and glanced over his 
 own shoulder, and came a little nearer. 
 
 " When I left here to-night," said Solomon Daisy, 
 " I little thought what day of the month it was. I 
 have never gone alone into the church after dark on 
 this day for seven and twenty years. I have heard 
 it said that as we keep our birthdays when we are 
 alive, so the ghosts of dead people, who are not easy 
 in their graves, keep the day they died upon. — How 
 the wind roars ! " 
 
 Nobody spoke. All eyes were fastened on Solo- 
 mon. 
 
 " I might have known," he said, " what night it 
 was by the foul weather. There's no such night in 
 the whole year round as this is always. I never sleep 
 quietly in my bed on the nineteenth of March."
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 381 
 
 " Go on," said Tom Cobb in a low voice. " Nor I 
 neither." 
 
 Solomon Daisy raised his glass to his lips ; put it 
 down upon the floor with such a trembling hand that 
 the spoon tinkled in it like a little bell ; and contin- 
 ued thus : — 
 
 " Have I ever said that we are always brought 
 back to this subject in some strange way when the 
 nineteenth of this month comes round ? Do you 
 suppose it was by accident I forgot to wind up the 
 church clock ? I never forgot it at any other time, 
 though it's such a clumsy thing that it has to be 
 wound up every day. Why should it escape my 
 memory on this day of all others ? 
 
 "I made as much haste down there as I could 
 when I went from here, but I had to go home first 
 for the keys ; and the wind and rain being dead 
 against me all the way, it was pretty well as much 
 as I could do at times to keep my legs. I got there 
 at last, opened the church-door, and went in. I had 
 not met a soul all the way, and you may judge 
 whether it was dull or not. Neither of you would 
 bear me company. If you could have known what 
 was to come, you'd have been in the right. 
 
 " The wind was so strong, that it was as much as 
 I could do to shut the church-door by putting my 
 whole weight against it ; and even as it was, it 
 burst wide open twice, with such strength that 
 any of you would have sworn, if you had been lean- 
 ing against it as I was, that somebody was pushing 
 on the other side. However, I got the key turned, 
 went into the belfry, and wound up the clock — 
 which was very near run down, and would have stood 
 stock-still in half an hour.
 
 382 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 "As I took up my lantern again to leave the 
 church, it came upon me all at once that this was 
 the nineteenth of March. It came upon me with a 
 kind of shock, as if a hand had struck the thought 
 upon my forehead ; at the very same moment, I 
 heard a voice outside the tower — rising from among 
 the graves." 
 
 Here old John precipitately interrupted the 
 speaker, and begged that if Mr. Parkes (who was 
 seated opposite to him, and was staring directly 
 over his head) saw anything, he would have the 
 goodness to mention it. Mr. Parkes apologized, and 
 remarked that he was only listening ; to which Mr. 
 Willet angrily retorted, that his listening with that 
 kind of expression in his face was not agreeable, 
 and that, if he couldn't look like other people, he 
 had better put his pocket-handkerchief over his head. 
 Mr. Parkes with great submission pledged himself 
 to do so, if again required, and John Willet, turning 
 to Solomon, desired him to proceed. After waiting 
 until a violent gust of wind and rain, which seemed 
 to shake even that sturdy house to its foundation, 
 had passed away, the little man complied : — 
 
 " Never tell me that it was my fancy, or that it 
 was any other sound which I mistook for that I tell 
 you of. I heard the wind whistle through the 
 arches of the church. I heard the steeple strain 
 and creak. I heard the rain as it came driving 
 against the walls. I felt the bells shake. I saw 
 the ropes sway to and fro. And I heard that 
 voice." 
 
 " What did it say ? " asked Tom Cobb. 
 
 " I don't know what ; I don't know that it spoke. 
 It gave a kind of cry, as any one of us might do if
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 383 
 
 something dreadful followed us in a dream, and 
 came upon us unawares ; and then it died off : seem- 
 ing to pass quite round the church." 
 
 " I don't see much in that," said John, drawing a 
 long breath, and looking round him like a man who 
 felt relieved. 
 
 " Perhaps not," returned his friend, " but that's 
 not all." 
 
 " What more do you mean to say, sir, is to come ? " 
 asked John, pausing in the act of wiping his face 
 upon his apron. " What are you a-going to tell us 
 of next ? " 
 
 " What I saw." 
 
 " Saw ! " echoed all three, bending forward. 
 
 " When I opened the church-door to come out," 
 said the little man, with an expression of face which 
 bore ample testimony to the sincerity of his convic- 
 tion, "when I opened the church-door to come out, 
 which I did suddenly, for I wanted to get it shut 
 again before another gust of wind came up, there 
 crossed me — so close, that by stretching out my 
 finger I could have touched it — something in the 
 likeness of a man. It was bareheaded to the storm. 
 It turned its face without stopping, and fixed its 
 eyes on mine. It was a ghost — a spirit." 
 
 " Whose ? " they all three cried together. 
 
 In the excess of his emotion (for he fell back 
 trembling in his chair, and waved his hand as if 
 entreating them to question him no further), his 
 answer was lost on all but old John Willet, who 
 happened to be seated close beside him. 
 
 " Who ? " cried Parkes and Tom Cobb, looking 
 eagerly by turns at Solomon Daisy and Mr. Willet. 
 " Who was it ? "
 
 384 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Mr. Willet after a long pause, 
 "you needn't ask. The likeness of a murdered 
 man. This is the nineteenth of March." 
 
 A profound silence ensued. 
 
 " If you'll take my advice," said John, " we had 
 better, one and all, keep this a secret. Such tales 
 would not be liked at the Warren. Let us keep it 
 to ourselves for the present time at all events, or we 
 may get into trouble, and Solomon may lose his 
 place. Whether it was really as he says, or whether 
 it wasn't, is no matter. Right or wrong, nobody 
 would believe him. As to the probabilities, I don't 
 myself think," said Mr. AVillet, eying the corners 
 of the room in a manner which showed that, like 
 some other philosophers, he was not quite easy in 
 his theory, " that a ghost as had been a man of sense 
 in his lifetime would be out a walking in such weather 
 — I only know that i" wouldn't, if I was one." 
 
 But this heretical doctrine was strongly opposed 
 by the other three, who quoted a great many prece- 
 dents to show that bad weather was the very time 
 for such appearances ; and Mr. Parkes (who had had 
 a ghost in his family, by the mother's side) argued 
 the matter with so much ingenuity and force of illus- 
 tration, that John was only saved from having to 
 retract his opinion by the opportune appearance of 
 supper, to which they applied themselves with a 
 dreadful relish. Even Solomon Daisy himself, by 
 dint of the elevating influences of fire, lights, 
 brandy, and good company, so far recovered as to 
 handle his knife and fork in a highly creditable 
 manner, and to display a capacity both of eating and 
 drinking such as banished all fear of his having sus- 
 tained any lasting injury from his fright.
 
 BAENABY RUDGE. 385 
 
 Supper done, they crowded round the fire again, 
 and, as is common on such occasions, propounded 
 all manner of leading questions calculated to sur- 
 round the story with new horrors and surprises. 
 But Solomon Daisy, notwithstanding these tempta- 
 tions, adhered so steadily to his original account, 
 and repeated it so often, with such slight variations, 
 and with such solemn asseverations of its truth and 
 reality, that his hearers were (with good reason) 
 more astonished than at first. As he took John 
 Willet's view of the matter in regard to the pro- 
 priety of not bruiting the tale abroad, unless the 
 spirit should appear to him again, in which case it 
 would be necessary to take immediate counsel with 
 the clergyman, it was solemnly resolved that it 
 should be hushed up and kept quiet. And as most 
 men like to have a secret to tell which may exalt 
 their own importance, they arrived at this conclu- 
 sion with perfect unanimity. 
 
 As it was by this time growing late, and was long 
 past their usual hour of separating, the cronies 
 parted for the night. Solomon Daisy, with a fresh 
 candle in his lantern, repaired homewards under 
 the escort of long Phil Parkes and Mr. Cobb, who 
 were rather more nervous than himself. Mr. Wil- 
 let, after seeing them to the door, returned to col- 
 lect his thoughts with the assistance of the boiler, 
 and to listen to the storm of wind and rain, which 
 had not yet abated one jot of its fury. 
 vol. i.-25.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Before old John had looked at the boiler quite 
 twenty minutes, he got his ideas into a focus, and 
 brought them to bear upon Solomon Daisy's story. 
 The more he thought of it, the more impressed he 
 became with a sense of his own wisdom, and a 
 desire that Mr. Haredale should be impressed with 
 it likewise. At length, to the end that he might 
 sustain a principal and important character in the 
 affair ; and might have the start of Solomon and his 
 two friends, through whose means he knew the ad- 
 venture, with a variety of exaggerations, would be 
 known to at least a score of people, and most likely 
 to Mr. Haredale himself, by breakfast-time to-mor- 
 row ; he determined to repair to the Warren before 
 going to bed. 
 
 " He's my landlord," thought John, as he took a 
 candle in his hand, and setting it down in a corner 
 out of the wind's way, opened a casement in the 
 rear of the house, looking towards the stables. 
 "We haven't met of late years so often as we 
 used to do — changes are taking place in the fam- 
 ily — it's desirable that I should stand as well with 
 them, in point of dignity, as possible — the whisper- 
 ing about of this here tale will anger him — it's good 
 to have confidences with a gentleman of his natur', 
 
 386
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 387 
 
 and set one's self right besides. Halloa there ! 
 Hugh — Hugh ! Hal-loa ! " 
 
 When he had repeated this shout a dozen times, 
 and startled every pigeon from its slumbers, a door 
 in one of the ruinous old buildings opened, and a 
 rough voice demanded what was amiss now, that a 
 man couldn't even have his sleep in quiet. 
 
 " What ! Haven't you sleep enough, growler, that 
 you're not to be knocked up for once ? " said John. 
 
 " No," replied the voice, as the speaker yawned 
 and shook himself. " Not half enough." 
 
 " I don't know how you can sleep, with the wind 
 a bellowsing and roaring about you, making the 
 tiles fly like a pack of cards," said John ; " but 
 no matter for that. Wrap yourself up in some- 
 thing or another, and come here, for you must go 
 as far as the Warren with me. And look sharp 
 about it." 
 
 Hugh, with much low growling and muttering, 
 went back into his lair ; and presently re-appeared, 
 carrying a lantern and a cudgel, and enveloped from 
 head to foot in an old, frowzy, slouching horse-cloth. 
 Mr. Willet received this figure at the back-door, and 
 ushered him into the bar, while he wrapped himself 
 in sundry great-coats and capes, and so tied and 
 knotted his face in shawls and handkerchiefs, that 
 how he breathed was a mystery. 
 
 " You don't take a man out of doors at near mid- 
 night in such weather, without putting some heart 
 into him, do you, master ? " said Hugh. 
 
 "Yes, I do, sir," returned Mr. Willet. "I put 
 the heart (as you call it) into him when he has 
 brought me safe home again, and his standing 
 steady on his legs ain't of so much consequence.
 
 388 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 So hold that light up, if you please, and go on a 
 step or two before to show the way." 
 
 Hugh obeyed with a very indifferent grace, and a 
 longing glance at the bottles. Old John, laying 
 strict injunctions on his cook to keep the doors 
 locked in his absence, and to open to nobody but 
 himself on pain of dismissal, followed him into the 
 blustering darkness out of doors. 
 
 The way was wet and dismal, and the night so 
 black, that if Mr. Willet had been his own pilot, he 
 would have walked into a deep horse-pond within a 
 few hundred yards of his own house, and would 
 certainly have terminated his career in that ignoble 
 sphere of action. But Hugh, who had a sight as keen 
 as any hawk's, and, apart from that endowment, could 
 have found his way blindfold to any place within a 
 dozen miles, dragged old John along, quite deaf to 
 his remonstrances, and took his own course without 
 the slightest reference to, or notice of, his master. 
 So they made head against the wind as they best 
 could; Hugh brushing the wet grass beneath his 
 heavy tread, and stalking on after his ordinary 
 savage fashion; John Willet following at arm's- 
 length, picking his steps, and looking about him, 
 now for bogs and ditches, and now for such stray 
 ghosts as might be wandering abroad, with looks of 
 as much dismay and uneasiness as his immovable 
 face was capable of expressing. 
 
 At length they stood upon the broad gravel-walk 
 before the Warren house. The building was pro- 
 foundly dark, and none were moving near it save 
 themselves. From one solitary turret chamber, 
 however, there shone a ray of light; and towards 
 this speck of comfort in the cold, cheerless, silent 
 scene Mr. Willet bade his pilot lead him.
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 389 
 
 " The old room," said John, looking timidly up- 
 ward ; " Mr. Keuben's own apartment, God be with 
 us ! I wonder his brother likes to sit there so late 
 at night — on this night too." 
 
 " Why, where else should he sit ? " asked Hugh, 
 holding the lantern to his breast to keep the candle 
 from the wind, while he trimmed it with his fingers. 
 " It's snug enough, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Snug ! " said John indignantly. " You have a 
 comfortable idea of snugness, you have, sir. Do 
 you know what was done in that room, you ruf- 
 fian ? " 
 
 " Why, what is it the worse for that ? " cried 
 Hugh, looking into John's fat face. " Does it keep 
 out the rain, and snow, and wind, the less for that ? 
 Is it less warm or dry because a man was killed 
 there ? Ha, ha, ha ! Never believe it, master. 
 One man's no such matter as that comes to." 
 
 Mr. Willet fixed his dull eyes on his follower, 
 and began — by a species of inspiration — to think 
 it just barely possible that he was something of a 
 dangerous character, and that it might be advisable 
 to get rid of him one of these days. He was too 
 prudent to say anything, with the journey home 
 before him ; and therefore turned to the iron gate 
 before which this brief dialogue had passed, and 
 pulled the handle of the bell that hung beside it. 
 The turret in which the light appeared being at one 
 corner of the building, and only divided from the 
 path by one of the garden walks, upon which this 
 gate opened, Mr. Haredale threw up the window 
 directly, and demanded who was there. 
 
 "Begging pardon, sir," said John, "I knew you 
 sat up late, and made bold to come round, having a 
 word to say to you."
 
 390 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Willet — is it not ? " 
 
 " Of the Maypole — at your service, sir." 
 
 Mr. Haredale closed the window, and withdrew. 
 He presently appeared at the door in the bottom of 
 the turret, and coming across the garden walk, un- 
 locked the gate and let them in. 
 
 "You are a late visitor, Willet. What is the 
 matter ? " 
 
 " Nothing to speak of, sir," said John ; " an idle 
 tale I thought you ought to know of; nothing 
 
 more." 
 
 " Let your man go forward with the lantern, and 
 give me your hand. The stairs are crooked and 
 narrow. Gently with your light, friend. You 
 swing it like a censer." 
 
 Hugh, who had already reached the turret, held it 
 more steadily, and ascended first, turning round 
 from time to time to shed its light downward on 
 the steps. Mr. Haredale, following next, eyed his 
 lowering face with no great favor ; and Hugh, look- 
 ing down on him, returned his glances with interest, 
 as they climbed the winding stair. 
 
 It terminated in a little ante-room adjoining that 
 from which they had seen the light. Mr. Haredale 
 entered first, and led the way through it into the 
 latter chamber, where he seated himself at a writ- 
 ing-table from which he had risen when they rang 
 the bell. 
 
 " Come in," he said, beckoning to old John, who 
 remained bowing at the door. " Not you, friend," 
 he added hastily to Hugh, who entered also. "Wil- 
 let, why do you bring that fellow here ? " 
 
 " Why, sir," returned John, elevating his eye- 
 brows, and lowering his voice to the tone in which
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 391 
 
 the question had been asked him, "he's a good 
 guard, you see." 
 
 "Don't be too sure of that," said Mr. Haredale, 
 looking towards him as he spoke. "I doubt it. 
 He has an evil eye." 
 
 "There's no imagination in his eye," said Mr. 
 Willet, glancing over his shoulder at the organ in 
 question, " certainly." 
 
 "There's no good there, be assured," said Mr. 
 Haredale. "Wait in that little room, friend, and 
 close the door between us." 
 
 Hugh shrugged his shoulders, and with a disdain- 
 ful look, which showed either that he had overheard 
 or that he guessed the purport of their whispering, 
 did as he was told. When he was shut out, Mr. 
 Haredale turned to John, and bade him go on with 
 what he had to say, but not to speak too loud, for 
 there were quick ears yonder. 
 
 Thus cautioned, Mr. Willet, in an oily whisper, 
 recited all that he had heard and said that night ; 
 laying particular stress upon his own sagacity, upon 
 his great regard for the family, and upon his solici- 
 tude for their peace of mind and happiness. The 
 story moved his auditor much more than he had 
 expected. Mr. Haredale often changed his attitude, 
 rose and paced the room, returned again, desired 
 him to repeat, as nearly as he could, the very words 
 that Solomon had used, and gave so many other 
 signs of being disturbed and ill at ease, that even 
 Mr. Willet was surprised. 
 
 "You did quite right," he said at the end of a 
 long conversation, "to bid them keep this story 
 secret. It is a foolish fancy on the part of this 
 weak-brained man, bred in his fears and superstition.
 
 392 BABXABY BUDGE. 
 
 But Miss Haredale, though she would know it to 
 be so, would be disturbed by it if it reached her 
 ears; it is too nearly connected with a subject very 
 painful to us all, to be heard with indifference. You 
 were most prudent, and have laid me under a great 
 obligation. I thank you very much." 
 
 This was equal to John's most sanguine expecta- 
 tions ; but he would have preferred Mr. Haredale's 
 looking at him, when he spoke, as if he really did 
 thank him, to his walking up and down, speaking 
 by fits and starts, often stopping with his eyes fixed 
 on the ground, moving hurriedly on again, like one 
 distracted, and seeming almost unconscious of what 
 he said or did. 
 
 This, however, was his manner ; and it was so em- 
 barrassing to John that he sat quite passive for a 
 long time, not knowing what to do. At length he 
 rose. Mr. Haredale stared at him for a moment as 
 though he had quite forgotten his being present, 
 then shook hands with him and opened the door. 
 Hugh, who was, or feigned to be, fast asleep on the 
 ante-chamber floor, sprang up on their entrance, and 
 throwing his cloak about him, grasped his stick and 
 lantern, and prepared to descend the stairs. 
 
 "Stay," said Mr. Haredale. "Will this man 
 drink ? " 
 
 " Drink ! He'd drink the Thames up, if it was 
 strong enough, sir," replied John Willet. "He'll 
 have something when he gets home. He's better 
 without it now, sir." 
 
 "Xay, half the distance is done," said Hugh. 
 " What a hard master you are ! I shall go home the 
 better for one glassful half-way. Come ! " 
 
 As John made no reply, Mr. Haredale brought
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 393 
 
 out a glass of liquor, and gave it to Hugh, who, as 
 he took it in his hand, threw part of it upon the 
 floor. 
 
 "What do you mean by splashing your drink 
 about a gentleman's house, sir ? " said John. 
 
 " I'm drinking a toast," Hugh rejoined, holding 
 the glass above his head, and fixing his eyes on Mr. 
 Haredale's face ; " a toast to this house and its 
 master." With that he muttered something to 
 himself, and drank the rest, and setting down the 
 glass, preceded them without another word. 
 
 John was a good deal scandalized by this observ- 
 ance, but seeing that Mr. Haredale took little heed 
 of what Hugh said or did, and that his thoughts were 
 otherwise employed, he offered no apology, and went 
 in silence down the stairs, across the walk, and 
 through the garden-gate. They stopped upon the 
 outer side for Hugh to hold the light while Mr. 
 Haredale locked it on the inner; and then John 
 saw with wonder (as he often afterwards related), 
 that he was very pale, and that his face had changed 
 so much and grown so haggard since their entrance, 
 that he almost seemed another man. 
 
 They were in the open road again, and John Wil- 
 let was walking on behind his escort, as he had 
 come, thinking very steadily of what he had just 
 now seen, when Hugh drew him suddenly aside, and 
 almost at the same instant three horsemen swept 
 past — the nearest brushed his shoulder even then 
 — who, checking their steeds as suddenly as they 
 could, stood still, and waited for their coming up.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 When John Willet saw that the horsemen wheeled 
 smartly round and drew up three abreast in the nar- 
 row road, waiting for him and his man to join them, 
 it occurred to him with unusual precipitation that 
 they must be highwaymen; and had Hugh been 
 armed with a blunderbuss, in place of his stout 
 cudgel, he would certainly have ordered him to fire 
 it off at a venture, and would, while the word of 
 command was obeyed, have consulted his own per- 
 sonal safety in immediate flight. Under the circum- 
 stances of disadvantage, however, in which he and 
 his guard were placed, he deemed it prudent to , 
 adopt a different style of generalship, and therefore 
 whispered his attendant to address them in the most 
 peaceable and courteous terms, By way of acting 
 up to the spirit and letter of this instruction, Hugh 
 stepped forward, and flourishing his staff before the 
 very eyes of the rider nearest to him, demanded 
 roughly what he and his fellows meant by so nearly 
 galloping over them, and why they scoured the king's 
 highway at that late hour of night. 
 
 The man whom he addressed was beginning an 
 angry reply in the same strain, when he was checked 
 by the horseman in the centre, who, interposing 
 
 394
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 395 
 
 with an air of authority, inquired in a somewhat 
 loud but not harsh or unpleasant voice : — 
 
 " Pray is this the London Road ? " 
 
 "If you follow it right, it is," replied Hugh 
 roughly. 
 
 " Nay, brother," said the same person, " you're but 
 a churlish Englishman, if Englishman you be — 
 which I should much doubt but for your tongue. 
 Your companion, I am sure, will answer me more 
 civilly. How say you, friend ? " 
 
 "I say it is the London Road, sir," answered 
 John. " And I wish," he added in a subdued voice, 
 as he turned to Hugh, " that you was in any other 
 road, you vagabond. Are you tired of your life, sir, 
 that you go a trying to provoke three great neck-or- 
 nothing chaps, that could keep on running over us, 
 backwards and for'ards, till we was dead, and then 
 take our bodies up behind 'em, and drown us ten 
 miles off?" 
 
 " How far is it to London ? " inquired the same 
 speaker. 
 
 " Why, from here, sir," answered John persua- 
 sively, " it's thirteen very easy mile." 
 
 The adjective was thrown in as an inducement to 
 the travellers to ride away with all speed; but, 
 instead of having the desired effect, it elicited from 
 the same person the remark, " Thirteen miles ! 
 That's a long distance ! " which was followed by a 
 short pause of indecision. 
 
 " Pray," said the gentleman, " are there any inns 
 hereabouts ? " 
 
 At the word " inns," John plucked up his spirit in 
 a surprising manner ; his fears rolled off like smoke; 
 all the landlord stirred within him.
 
 396 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 "There are no inns," rejoined Mr. Willet, with a 
 strong emphasis on the plural number ; " but there's 
 a Inn — one Inn — the Maypole Inn. That's a 
 Inn indeed. You won't see the like of that Inn 
 often." 
 
 " You keep it perhaps ? " said the horseman, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I do, sir," replied John, greatly wondering how 
 he had found this out. 
 
 " And how far is the Maypole from here ? " 
 
 " About a mile." John was going to add that it 
 was the easiest mile in all the world, when the third 
 rider, who had hitherto kept a little in the rear, sud- 
 denly interposed : — 
 
 "And have you one excellent bed, landlord? 
 Hem ! A bed that you can recommend — a bed that 
 you are sure is well aired — a bed that has been 
 slept in by some perfectly respectable and unex- 
 ceptionable person." 
 
 " We don't take in no tagrag and bobtail at our 
 house, sir," answered John. "And as to the bed 
 itself — " 
 
 " Say, as to three beds," interposed the gentleman 
 who had spoken before ; " for we shall want three if 
 we stay, though my friend only speaks of one." 
 
 " No, no, my lord ; you are too good, you are too 
 kind ; but your life is of far too much importance 
 to the nation, in these portentous times, to be placed 
 upon a level with one so useless and so poor as mine. 
 A great cause, my lord, a mighty cause, depends on 
 you. You are its leader and its champion, its ad- 
 vanced guard and its van. It is the cause of our 
 altars and our homes, our country and our faith. 
 Let me sleep on a chair — the carpet — anywhere.
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 897 
 
 No one will repine if I take cold or fever. Let John 
 Grueby pass the night beneath the open sky — no 
 one will repine for him. But forty thousand men 
 of this our island in the wave (exclusive of women 
 and children) rivet their eyes and thoughts on Lord 
 George Gordon ; and every day, from the rising up 
 of the sun to the going down of the same, pray for 
 Ins health and vigor. My lord," said the speaker, 
 rising in his stirrups, "it is a glorious cause, and 
 must not be forgotten. My lord, it is a mighty 
 cause, and must not be endangered. My lord, it is a 
 holy cause, and must not be deserted." 
 
 " It is a holy cause," exclaimed his lordship, lift- 
 ing up his hat with great solemnity. " Amen ! " 
 
 " John Grueby," said the long-winded gentleman, 
 in a tone of mild reproof, "his lordship said 
 Amen." 
 
 " I heard my lord, sir," said the man, sitting like 
 a statue on his horse. 
 
 "And do not you say Amen, likewise ? " 
 
 To which John Grueby made no reply at all, but 
 sat looking straight before him. 
 
 " You surprise me, Grueby," said the gentleman. 
 " At a crisis like the present, when Queen Elizabeth, 
 that maiden monarch, weeps within her tomb, and 
 Bloody Mary, with a brow of gloom and shadow, 
 stalks triumphant — " 
 
 " Oh, sir," cried the man gruffly, " where's the use 
 of talking of Bloody Mary under such circumstances 
 as the present, when my lord's wet through and 
 tired with hard riding ? Let's either go on to Lon- 
 don, sir, or put up at once ; or that unfort'nate 
 Bloody Mary will have more to answer for — and 
 she's done a deal more harm in her grave than she 
 ever did in her lifetime, I believe."
 
 398 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 By this time Mr. Willet, who had never heard so 
 many words spoken together at one time, or deliv- 
 ered with such volubility and emphasis as by the 
 long-winded gentleman ; and whose brain, being 
 wholly unable to sustain or compass them, had 
 quite given itself up for lost ; recovered so far as to 
 observe that there was ample accommodation at the 
 Maypole for all the party : good beds ; neat wines ; 
 excellent entertainment for man and beast ; private 
 rooms for large or small parties ; dinners dressed 
 upon the shortest notice; choice stabling and a 
 lock-up coach-house ; and, in short, to run over such 
 recommendatory scraps of language as were painted 
 up on various portions of the building, and which, 
 in the course of some forty years, he had learned to 
 repeat with some tolerable correctness. He was con- 
 sidering whether it was at all possible to insert any 
 novel sentences to the same purpose, when the gen- 
 tleman who had spoken first, turning to him of the 
 long wind, exclaimed, "What say you, Gashford? 
 Shall we tarry at this house he speaks of, or press 
 forward ? You shall decide." 
 
 "I would submit, my lord, then," returned the 
 person he appealed to, in a silky tone, " that your 
 health and spirits — so important, under Providence, 
 to our great cause, our pure and truthful cause " — 
 here his lordship pulled off his hat again, though 
 it was raining hard — "require refreshment and 
 repose." 
 
 " Go on before, landlord, and show the way," 
 said Lord George Gordon ; " we will follow at a 
 foot-pace." 
 
 " If you'll give me leave, my lord," said John 
 Grueby in a low voice, " I'll change my proper place,
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 399 
 
 and ride before you. The looks of the landlord's 
 friend are not over-honest, and it may be as well to 
 be cautious with him." 
 
 "John Grueby is quite right," interposed Mr. 
 Gashford, falling back hastily. " My lord, a life so 
 precious as yours must not be put in peril. Go for- 
 ward, John, by all means. If you have any reason 
 to suspect the fellow, blow his brains out." 
 
 John made no answer, but looking straight before 
 him, as his custom seemed to be when the secretary 
 spoke, bade Hugh push on, and followed close behind 
 him. Then came his lordship, with Mr. Willet at 
 his bridle rein ; and, last of all, his lordship's secre- 
 tary — for that, it seemed, was Gashford's office. 
 
 Hugh strode briskly on, often looking back at 
 the servant, whose horse was close upon his heels, 
 and glancing with a leer at his holster case of pis- 
 tols, by which he seemed to set great store. He 
 was a square-built, strong-made, bull-necked fellow, 
 of the true English breed ; and as Hugh measured 
 him with his eye, he measured Hugh, regarding 
 him meanwhile with a look of bluff disdain. He 
 was much older than the Maypole man, being to all 
 appearance five and forty ; but was one of those self- 
 possessed, hard-headed, imperturbable fellows, who, 
 if they ever are beat at fisticuffs, or other kind of 
 warfare, never know it, and go on coolly till they 
 win. 
 
 " If I led you wrong now," said Hugh tauntingly, 
 " you'd — ha, ha, ha ! — you'd shoot me through the 
 head, I suppose." 
 
 John Grueby took no more notice of this remark 
 than if he had been deaf, and Hugh dumb : but kept 
 riding on, quite comfortably, with his eyes fixed on 
 the horizon.
 
 400 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " Did you ever try a fall with a man when you 
 were young, master ? " said Hugh. " Can you make 
 any play at single-stick ? " 
 
 John Grueby looked at him sideways with the 
 same contented air, but deigned not a word in 
 answer. 
 
 " — Like this ? " said Hugh, giving his cudgel 
 one of those skilful flourishes in which the rustic 
 of that time delighted. " Whoop ! " 
 
 " — Or that," returned John Grueby, beating down 
 his guard with his whip, and striking him on the 
 head with its but-end. "Yes, I played a little 
 once. You wear your hair too long ; I should have 
 cracked your crown if it had been a little shorter." 
 
 It was a pretty smart, loud-sounding rap as it was, 
 and evidently astonished Hugh ; who, for the mo- 
 ment, seemed disposed to drag his new acquaintance 
 from his saddle. But his face betokening neither 
 malice, triumph, rage, nor any lingering idea that 
 he had given him offence ; his eyes gazing steadily 
 in the old direction, and his manner being as care- 
 less and composed as if he had merely brushed 
 away a fly ; Hugh was so puzzled, and so disposed 
 to look upon him as a customer of almost supernat- 
 ural toughness, that he merely laughed, and cried 
 " "Well done ! " then, sheering off a little, led the 
 way in silence. 
 
 Before the lapse of many minutes the party 
 halted at the Maypole door. Lord George and his 
 secretary, quickly dismounting, gave their horses to 
 their servant, who, under the guidance of Hugh, 
 repaired to the stables. Eight glad to escape from 
 the inclemency of the night, they followed Mr. Wil- 
 let into the common room, and stood warming them-
 
 BARNABY EUDGE. 401 
 
 selves and drying their clothes before the cheerful 
 fire, while he busied himself with such orders and 
 preparations as his guest's high quality required. 
 
 As he bustled in and out of the room, intent on 
 these arrangements, he had an opportunity of ob- 
 serving the two travellers, of whom, as yet, he 
 knew nothing but the voice. The lord, the great 
 personage, who did the Maypole so much honor, 
 was about the middle height, of a slender make, and 
 sallow complexion, with an aquiline nose, and long 
 hair of a reddish brown, combed perfectly straight 
 and smooth about his ears, and slightly powdered, 
 but without the faintest vestige of a curl. He was 
 attired, under his great-coat, in a full suit of black, 
 quite free from any ornament, and of the most pre- 
 cise and sober cut. The gravity of his dress, to- 
 gether with a certain lankness of cheek and stiffness 
 of deportment, added nearly ten years to his age, 
 but his figure was that of one not yet past thirty. 
 As he stood musing in the red glow of the fire, it 
 was striking to observe his very bright large eye, 
 which betrayed a restlessness of thought and pur- 
 pose, singularly at variance with the studied com- 
 posure and sobriety of his mien, and with his quaint 
 and sad apparel. It had nothing harsh or cruel in 
 its expression ; neither had his face, which was thin 
 and mild, and wore an air of melancholy ; but it was 
 suggestive of an indefinable uneasiness, which in- 
 fected those who looked upon him, and filled them 
 with a kind of pity for the man : though why it did 
 so they would have had some trouble to explain. 
 
 Gashford, the secretary, was taller, angularly 
 made, high-shouldered, bony, and ungraceful. His 
 dress, in imitation of his superior, was demure and 
 vol. I.-26.
 
 402 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 staid in the extreme ; his manner, formal and con- 
 strained. This gentleman had an overhanging brow, 
 great hands and feet and ears, and a pair of eyes 
 that seemed to have made an unnatural retreat into 
 his head, and to have dug themselves a cave to hide 
 in. His manner was smooth and humble, but very 
 sly and slinking. He wore the aspect of a man who 
 was always lying in wait for something that wouldn't 
 come to pass ; but he looked patient — very patient 
 — and fawned like a spaniel dog. Even now, while 
 he warmed and rubbed his hands before the blaze, 
 he had the air of one who only presumed to enjoy 
 it in his degree as a commoner; and though he 
 knew his lord was not regarding him, he looked 
 into his face from time to time, and, with a meek 
 and deferential manner, smiled as if for practice. 
 
 Such were the guests whom old John Willet, 
 with a fixed and leaden eye, surveyed a hundred 
 times, and to whom he now advanced, with a state 
 candlestick in each hand, beseeching them to follow 
 him into a worthier chamber. " For, my lord," said 
 John — it is odd enough, but certain people seem to 
 have as great a pleasure in pronouncing titles as 
 their owners have in wearing them — " this room, 
 my lord, isn't at all the sort of place for your lord- 
 ship, and I have to beg your lordship's pardon for 
 keeping you here, my lord, one minute." 
 
 With this address John ushered them upstairs 
 into the state apartment, which, like many other 
 things of state, was cold and comfortless. Their 
 own footsteps, reverberating through the spacious 
 room, struck upon their hearing with a hollow 
 sound ; and its damp and chilly atmosphere was 
 rendered doubly cheerless by contrast with the 
 homely warmth they had deserted.
 
 
 *&m?
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 403 
 
 It was of no use, however, to propose a return to 
 the place they had quitted, for the preparations 
 went on so briskly that there was no time to stop 
 them. John, with the tall candlesticks in his hands, 
 bowed them up to the fireplace ; Hugh, striding in 
 with a lighted brand and a pile of firewood, cast it 
 down upon the hearth and set it in a blaze ; John 
 Grueby (who had a great blue cockade in his hat, 
 which he appeared to despise mightily) brought in 
 the portmanteau he had carried on his horse, and 
 placed it on the floor ; and presently all three were 
 busily engaged in drawing out the screen, laying the 
 cloth, inspecting the beds, lighting fires in the bed- 
 rooms, expediting the supper, and making everything 
 as cosey and as snug as might be on so short a notice. 
 In less than an hour's time supper had been served 
 and ate, and cleared away ; and Lord George and 
 his secretary, with slippered feet and legs stretched 
 out before the fire, sat over some hot mulled wine 
 together. 
 
 " So ends, my lord," said Gashford, filling his glass 
 with great complacency, " the blessed work of a most 
 blessed day." 
 
 " And of a blessed yesterday," said his lordship, 
 raising his head. 
 
 " Ah ! " — and here the secretary clasped his hands 
 — "a blessed yesterday indeed ! The Protestants 
 of Suffolk are godly men and true. Though others 
 of our countrymen have lost their way in darkness, 
 even as we, my lord, did lose our road to-night, theirs 
 is the light and glory." 
 
 " Did I move them, Gashford ?" said Lord George. 
 
 " Move them, my lord ! Move them ! They cried 
 to be led on against the Papists, they vowed a dread-
 
 404 BARNABY RTTDGE. 
 
 ful vengeance on their heads, they roared like men 
 possessed — " 
 
 " But not by devils," said his lord. 
 
 " By devils ! my lord ! By angels." 
 
 " Yes — oh, surely — by angels, no doubt," said 
 Lord George, thrusting his hands into his pockets, 
 taking them out again to bite his nails, and looking 
 uncomfortably at the fire. "Of course by angels — 
 eh, Gashford ? " 
 
 " You do not doubt it, my lord ? " said the secre- 
 tary. 
 
 " No — no," returned his lord. " No. Why 
 should I ? I suppose it would be decidedly irre- 
 ligious to doubt it — wouldn't it, Gashford ? Though 
 there certainly were," he added, without waiting for 
 an answer, "some plaguy ill-looking characters 
 among them." 
 
 " When you warmed," said the secretary, looking 
 sharply at the other's downcast eyes, which bright- 
 ened slowly as he spoke ; " when you warmed into 
 that noble outbreak : when you told them that you 
 were never of the lukewarm or the timid tribe, and 
 bade them take heed that they were prepared to fol- 
 low one who would lead them on, though to the very 
 death ! when you spoke of a hundred and twenty 
 thousand men across the Scottish border who would 
 take their own redress at any time, if it were not 
 conceded ; when you cried, ' Perish the Pope and all 
 his base adherents ; the penal laws against them 
 shall never be repealed while Englishmen have 
 hearts and hands ' — and waved your own, and touched 
 your sword ; and when they cried, ' No Popery ! ' 
 and you cried ' No ; not even if we wade in blood,' 
 and they threw up their hats and cried, ' Hurrah !
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 405 
 
 not even if we wade in blood ! No Popery ! Lord 
 George ! Down with the Papists — vengeance on 
 their heads ; ' when this was said and done, and a 
 word from yon, my lord, could raise or still the 
 tumult — ah ! then I felt what greatness was indeed, 
 and thought, When was there ever power like this 
 of Lord George Gordon's ? " 
 
 " It's a great power. You're right. It is a great 
 power ! " he cried with sparkling eyes. " But — 
 dear Gashf ord — did I really say all that ? " 
 
 " And how much more ! " cried the secretary, look- 
 ing upwards. " Ah ! how much more ! " 
 
 " And I told them what you say about the one 
 hundred and forty thousand men in Scotland, did 
 I ? " he asked with evident delight. " That was 
 bold." 
 
 " Our cause is boldness. Truth is always bold." 
 
 "Certainly. So is religion. She's bold, Gash- 
 ford ? " 
 
 " The true religion is, my lord." 
 
 " And that's ours," he rejoined, moving uneasily 
 in his seat, and biting his nails as though he would 
 pare them to the quick. " There can be no doubt of 
 ours being the true one. You feel as certain of that 
 as I do, Gashford, don't you ? " 
 
 " Does my lord ask me," whined Gashford, draw- 
 ing his chair nearer with an injured air, and laying 
 his broad flat hand upon the table ; " me" he re- 
 peated, bending the dark hollows of his eyes upon 
 him with an unwholesome smile, " who, stricken by 
 the magic of his eloquence in Scotland but a year 
 ago, abjured the errors of the Romish church, and 
 clung to him as one whose timely hand had plucked 
 me from the pit ? "
 
 406 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 " True. No — no. I — I didn't mean it," replied 
 the other, shaking him by the hand, rising from his 
 seat, and pacing restlessly about the room. " It's a 
 proud thing to lead the people, Gashford," he added 
 as he made a sudden halt. 
 
 " By force of reason too," returned the pliant sec- 
 retary. 
 
 " Ay, to be sure. They may cough, and jeer, and 
 groan in Parliament, and call me fool and madman, 
 but which of them can raise this human sea and 
 make it swell and roar at pleasure ? Not one." 
 
 " Not one," repeated Gashford. 
 
 " Which of them can say for his honesty what I 
 can say for mine ; which of them has refused a min- 
 ister's bribe of one thousand pounds a year, to resign 
 his seat in favor of another ? Not one." 
 
 " Not one," repeated Gashford again — taking the 
 lion's share of the mulled wine between whiles. 
 
 "And as we are honest, true, and in a sacred 
 cause, Gashford," said Lord George, with a height- 
 ened color and in a louder voice, as he laid his fevered 
 hand upon his shoulder, " and are the only men who 
 regard the mass of people out of doors, or are 
 regarded by them, we will uphold them to the last ; 
 and will raise a cry against these un-English Papists 
 which shall re-echo through the country, and roll 
 with a noise like thunder. I will be worthy of the 
 motto on my coat of arms, ' Called and chosen and 
 faithful.'" * 
 
 "Called," said the secretary, "by Heaven." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Chosen by the people." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Faithful to both."
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 407 
 
 "To the block!" 
 
 It would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of 
 the excited manner in which he gave these answers 
 to the secretary's promptings ; of the rapidity of his 
 utterance, or the violence of his tone and gesture ; 
 in which, struggling through his Puritan's demeanor, 
 was something wild and ungovernable which broke 
 through all restraint. For some minutes he walked 
 rapidly up and down the room, then stopping sud- 
 denly, exclaimed, — 
 
 " Gashford — You moved them yesterday too. 
 Oh yes! You did." 
 
 " I shone with a reflected light, my lord," replied 
 the humble secretary, laying his hand upon his 
 heart. " I did my best." 
 
 " You did well," said his master, " and are a great 
 and worthy instrument. If you will ring for John 
 Grueby to carry the portmanteau into my room, and 
 will wait here while I undress, we will dispose of 
 business as usual, if you are not too tired." 
 
 " Too tired, my lord ! — But this is his considera- 
 tion ! — Christian from head to foot." With which 
 soliloquy, the secretary tilted the jug, and looked 
 very hard into the mulled wine, to see how much 
 remained. 
 
 John Willet and John Grueby appeared together. 
 The one bearing the great candlesticks, and the 
 other the portmanteau, showed the deluded lord 
 into his chamber ; and left the secretary alone, to 
 yawn and shake himself, and finally, to fall asleep 
 before the fire, 
 
 "Now, Mr. Gashford, sir," said John Grueby in 
 his ear, after what appeared to him a moment of un- 
 consciousness ; " my lord's abed."
 
 408 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 " Oh ! Very good, John," was his mild reply. 
 " Thank you, John. Nobody need sit up. I know 
 my room." 
 
 " I hope you're not a-going to trouble your head 
 to-night, or my lord's head neither, with anything 
 more about Bloody Mary," said John. " I wish the 
 blessed old creetur had never been born." 
 
 " I said you might go to bed, John," returned the 
 secretary. " You didn't hear me, I think." 
 
 " Between Bloody Marys, and blue cockades, and 
 glorious Queen Besses, and no Poperys, and Protes- 
 tant associations, and making of speeches," pursued 
 John Grueby, looking, as usual, a long way off, and 
 taking no notice of this hint, " my lord's half off his 
 head. When we go out o' doors, such a set of raga- 
 muffins comes a shouting after us, ' Gordon forever ! ' 
 that I'm ashamed of myself, and don't know where 
 to look. When we're indoors, they come a roaring 
 and screaming about the house like so many devils ; 
 and my lord, instead of ordering them to be drove 
 away, goes out into the balcony and demeans him- 
 self by making speeches to 'em, and calls 'em ' Men 
 of England,' and ' Fellow-countrymen,' as if he was 
 fond of 'em, and thanked 'em for coming. I can't 
 make it out, but they're all mixed up somehow or 
 another with that unfort'nate Bloody Mary, and call 
 her name out till they're hoarse. They're all Prot- 
 estants too — every man and boy among 'em : and 
 Protestants is very fond of spoons I find, and silver 
 plate in general, whenever area-gates is left open 
 accidentally. I wish that was the worst of it, and 
 that no more harm might be to come ; but if you 
 don't stop these ugly customers in time, Mr. Gash- 
 ford (and I know you; you're the man that blows
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 409 
 
 the fire), you'll find 'em grow a little bit too strong 
 for you. One of these evenings, when the weather 
 gets warmer and Protestants are thirsty, they'll be 
 pulling London down, — and I never heerd that 
 Bloody Mary went as far as that." 
 
 Gashford had vanished long ago, and these re- 
 marks had been bestowed on empty air. Not at all 
 discomposed by the discovery, John Grueby fixed 
 his hat on wrong side foremost, that he might be 
 unconscious of the shadow of the obnoxious cock- 
 ade, and withdrew to bed; shaking his head in a 
 very gloomy and prophetic manner until he reached 
 his chamber.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Gashford, with a smiling face, but still with 
 looks of profound deference and humility, betook 
 himself towards his master's room, smoothing his 
 hair down as he went, and humming a psalm tune. 
 As he approached Lord George's door, he cleared his 
 throat and hummed more vigorously. 
 
 There was a remarkable contrast between this 
 man's occupation at the moment, and the expression 
 of his countenance, which was singularly repulsive 
 and malicious. His beetling brow almost obscured 
 his eyes ; his lip was curled contemptuously ; his 
 very shoulders seemed to sneer in stealthy whisper- 
 ings with his great flapped ears. 
 
 " Hush ! " he muttered softly, as he peeped in at 
 the chamber door. " He seems to be asleep. Pray 
 Heaven he is ! Too much watching, too much care, 
 too much thought — ah ! Lord preserve him for a 
 martyr! He is a saint, if ever saint drew breath on 
 this bad earth." 
 
 Placing his light upon a table, he walked on tip- 
 toe to the fire, and sitting in a chair before it with 
 his back towards the bed, went on communing with 
 himself like one who thought aloud : — 
 
 " The savior of his country and his country's reli- 
 gion, the friend of his poor countrymen, the enemy 
 
 410
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 411 
 
 of the proud and harsh ; beloved of the rejected and 
 oppressed, adored by forty thousand bold and loyal 
 English hearts — what happy slumbers his should 
 be ! " And here he sighed, and warmed his hands, 
 and shook his head as men do when their hearts are 
 full, and heaved another sigh, and warmed his hands 
 again. 
 
 " Why, Gashford ? " said Lord George, who was 
 lying broad awake upon his side, and had been star- 
 ing at him from his entrance. 
 
 " My — my lord," said Gashford, starting and 
 looking round as though in great surprise. "I 
 have disturbed you ! " 
 
 " I have not been sleeping." 
 
 " Not sleeping ! " he repeated with assumed con- 
 fusion. " What can I say for having in your pres- 
 ence given utterance to thoughts — but they were 
 sincere — they were sincere!" exclaimed the secre- 
 tary, drawing his sleeve in a hasty way across his 
 eyes, " and why should I regret your having heard 
 them ? " 
 
 " Gashford," said the poor lord, stretching out his 
 hand with manifest emotion, " do not regret it. You 
 love me well, I know — too well. I don't deserve 
 such homage." 
 
 Gashford made no reply, but grasped the hand 
 and pressed it to his lips. Then rising, and taking 
 from the trunk a little desk, he placed it on a table 
 near the tire, unlocked it with a key he carried in 
 his pocket, sat down before it, took out a pen, and, 
 before dipping it in the inkstand, sucked it — to 
 compose the fashion of his mouth perhaps, on which 
 a smile was hovering yet. 
 
 " How do our numbers stand since last enrolling
 
 412 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 night?" inquired Lord George. "Are we really 
 forty thousand strong, or do we still speak in 
 round numbers when we take the Association at 
 that amount ? " 
 
 " Our total now exceeds that number by a score 
 and three," Gashford replied, casting his eyes upon 
 his papers. 
 
 " The funds ? " 
 
 "Not very improving; but there is some manna 
 in the wilderness, my lord. Hem ! On Friday 
 night the widows' mites dropped in. < Forty scav- 
 engers, three and fourpence. An aged pew-opener 
 of St. Martin's parish, sixpence. A bell-ringer of 
 the Established Church, sixpence. A Protestant 
 infant, newly born, one halfpenny. The United 
 Link Boys, three shillings — one bad. The anti- 
 Popish prisoners in Newgate, five and fourpence. 
 A friend in Bedlam, half a crown. Dennis the 
 hangman, one shilling.'" 
 
 " That Dennis," said his lordship, " is an earnest 
 man. I marked him in the crowd in Welbeck Street 
 last Friday." 
 
 "A good man," rejoined the secretary; "a stanch, 
 sincere, and truly zealous man." 
 
 "He should be encouraged," said Lord George. 
 "Make a note of Dennis. I'll talk with him." 
 
 Gashford obeyed, and went on reading from his 
 list : — 
 
 " ' The Friends of Reason, half a guinea. The 
 Friends of Liberty, half a guinea. The Friends of 
 Peace, half a guinea. The Friends of Charity, half 
 a guinea. The Friends of Mercy, half a guinea. 
 The Associated Rememberers of Bloody Mary, half 
 a guinea. The United Bulldogs, half a guinea.' "
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 413 
 
 "The United Bulldogs," said Lord George, biting 
 his nails most horribly, " are a new society, are they 
 not ? " 
 
 " Formerly the 'Prentice Knights, my lord. The 
 indentures of the old members expiring by degrees, 
 they changed their name, it seems, though they still 
 have 'prentices among them, as well as workmen." 
 
 " What is their president's name ? " inquired Lord 
 George. 
 
 " President," said Gashford, reading, " Mr. Simon 
 Tappertit." 
 
 " I remember him. The little man, who some- 
 times brings an elderly sister to our meetings, and 
 sometimes another female too, who is conscientious, 
 I have no doubt, but not well-favored ? " 
 
 "The very same, my lord." 
 
 " Tappertit is an earnest man," said Lord George 
 thoughtfully. " Eh, Gashford ? " 
 
 " One of the most foremost among them all, my 
 lord. He snuffs the battle from afar, like the war- 
 horse. He throws his hat up in the street as if he 
 were inspired, and makes most stirring speeches 
 from the shoulders of his friends." 
 
 " Make a note of Tappertit," said Lord George 
 Gordon. "We may advance him to a place of 
 trust." 
 
 "That," rejoined the secretary, doing as he was 
 told, "is all — except Mrs. Varden's box (fourteenth 
 time of opening), seven shillings and sixpence in 
 silver and copper, and half a guinea in gold ; and 
 Miggs (being the saving of a quarter's wages), one 
 and threepence." 
 
 " Miggs," said Lord George. " Is that a man ? " 
 
 " The name is entered on the list as a woman,"
 
 414 BABNABY ETTDGE. 
 
 replied the secretary. " I think she is the tall 
 spare female of whom you spoke just now, my lord, 
 as not being well-favored, who sometimes comes to 
 hear the speeches — along with Tappertit and Mrs. 
 Varden." 
 
 " Mrs. Varden is the elderly lady, then, is she ? " 
 
 The secretary nodded, and rubbed the bridge of 
 his nose with the feather of his pen. 
 
 " She is a zealous sister," said Lord George. 
 " Her collection goes on prosperously, and is piir- 
 sued with fervor. Has her husband joined ? " 
 
 " A malignant," returned the secretary, folding 
 up his papers. " Unworthy such a wife. He re- 
 mains in outer darkness, and steadily refuses." 
 
 " The consequences be upon his own head ! — Gash- 
 ford ! " 
 
 "My lord!" 
 
 " You don't think," he turned restlessly in his 
 bed as he spoke, " these people will desert me when 
 the hour arrives ? I have spoken boldly for them, 
 ventured much, suppressed nothing. They'll not 
 fall off, will they ? " 
 
 " No fear of that, my lord," said Gashford with a 
 meaning look, which was rather the involuntary ex- 
 pression of his own thoughts than intended as any 
 confirmation of his words, for the other's face was 
 turned away. " Be sure there is no fear of that." 
 
 " Nor," he said with a more restless motion than 
 before, " of their — But they can sustain no harm 
 from leaguing for this purpose. Right is on our 
 side, though Might may be against us. You feel as 
 sure of that as I — honestly, you do ? " 
 
 The secretary was beginning with "You do not 
 doubt," when the other interrupted him, and impa- 
 tiently rejoined, —
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 415 
 
 « Doubt ! No. Who says I doubt ? If T 
 doubted, should I cast away relatives, friends, 
 everything, for this unhappy country's sake ; this 
 unhappy country," he cried, springing up in bed, 
 after repeating the phrase "unhappy country's 
 sake " to himself at least a dozen times, " forsaken 
 of God and man, delivered over to a dangerous con- 
 federacy of Popish powers ; the prey of corruption, 
 idolatry, and despotism ? Who says I doubt ? Am 
 I called, and chosen, and faithful ? Tell me. Am 
 I, or am I not ? " 
 
 "To God, the country, and yourself," cried Gash- 
 ford. 
 
 "I am. I will be. I say again, I will be : to the 
 block. Who says as much ? Do you ? Does any 
 man alive ? " 
 
 The secretary dropped his head with an expres- 
 sion of perfect acquiescence in anything that had 
 been said or might be ; and Lord George, gradually 
 sinking down upon his pillow, fell asleep. 
 
 Although there was something very ludicrous in 
 his vehement manner, taken in conjunction with 
 his meagre aspect and ungraceful presence, it would 
 scarcely have provoked a smile in any man of 
 kindly feeling ; or even if it had, he would have 
 felt sorry and almost angry with himself next mo- 
 ment, for yielding to the impulse. This lord was 
 sincere in his violence and in his wavering. A 
 nature prone to false enthusiasm, and the vanity of 
 being a leader, were the worst qualities apparent in 
 his composition. All the rest was weakness — sheer 
 weakness ; and it is the unhappy lot of thoroughly 
 weak men, that their very sympathies, affections, 
 confidences — all the qualities which in better-con-
 
 416 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 stituted minds are virtues — dwindle into foibles, or 
 turn into downright vices. 
 
 Gashford, with many a sly look towards the bed, 
 sat chuckling at his master's folly, until his deep 
 and heavy breathing warned him that he might 
 retire. Locking his desk, and replacing it within 
 the trunk (but not before he had taken from a secret 
 lining two printed handbills), he cautiously with- 
 drew ; looking back as he went, at the pale face of 
 the slumbering man, above whose head the dusty 
 plumes that crowned the Maypole couch waved 
 drearily and sadly as though it were a bier. 
 
 Stopping on the staircase to listen that all was quiet, 
 and to take off his shoes lest his footsteps should 
 alarm any light sleeper who might be near at hand, 
 he descended to the ground-floor, and thrust one of 
 his bills beneath the great door of the house. That 
 done, he crept softly back to his own chamber, 
 and from the window let another fall — carefully 
 wrapped round a stone to save it from the wind — 
 into the yard below. 
 
 They were addressed on the back " To every Prot- 
 estant into whose hands this shall come," and bore 
 within what follows : — 
 
 "Men and Brethren. Whoever shall find this 
 letter, will take it as a warning to join, without 
 delay, the friends of Lord George Gordon. There 
 are great events at hand ; and the times are danger- 
 ous and troubled. Read this carefully, keep it 
 clean, and drop it somewhere else. For King and 
 Country. Union." 
 
 "More seed, more seed," said Gashford as he 
 closed the window. " When will the harvest 
 come ? "
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 To surround anything, however monstrous or 
 ridiculous, with an air of mystery, is to invest it 
 with a secret charm, and power of attraction which 
 to the crowd is irresistible. False priests, false 
 prophets, false doctors, false patriots, false prodigies 
 of every kind, veiling their proceedings in mystery, 
 have always addressed themselves at an immense 
 advantage to the popular credulity, and have been, 
 perhaps, more indebted to that resource in gaining 
 and keeping for a time the upper hand of Truth 
 and Common Sense, than to any half-dozen items in 
 the whole catalogue of imposture. Curiosity is, 
 and has been from the creation of the world, a mas- 
 ter passion. To awaken it, to gratify it by slight 
 degrees, and yet leave something always in sus- 
 pense, is to establish the surest hold that can be 
 had, in wrong, on the unthinking portion of man- 
 kind. 
 
 If a man had stood on London Bridge, calling till 
 he was hoarse upon the passers-by to join with 
 Lord George Gordon, although for an object which 
 no man understood, and which in that very incident 
 had a charm of its own, the probability is that he 
 might have influenced a score of people in a month. 
 If all zealous Protestants had been publicly urged 
 vol. I.-27. 417
 
 418 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 to join an association for the avowed purpose of 
 singing a hymn or two occasionally, and hearing 
 some indifferent speeches made, and ultimately of 
 petitioning Parliament not to pass an act for abol- 
 ishing the penal laws against Roman Catholic 
 priests, the penalty of perpetual imprisonment de- 
 nounced against those who educated children in 
 that persuasion, and the disqualification of all 
 members of the Romish church to inherit real prop- 
 erty in the United Kingdom by right of pur- 
 chase or descent, — matters so far removed from 
 the business and bosoms of the mass might perhaps 
 have called together a hundred people. But when 
 vague rumors got abroad, that in this Protestant 
 Association a secret power was mustering against 
 the government for undefined and mighty purposes ; 
 when the air was filled with whispers of a confed- 
 eracy among the Popish powers to degrade and en- 
 slave England, establish an Inquisition in London, 
 and turn the pens of Smithfield Market into stakes 
 and caldrons; when terrors and alarms which no 
 man understood were perpetually broached, both in 
 and out of Parliament, by one enthusiast who did 
 not understand himself, and bygone bugbears, which 
 had lain quietly in their graves for centuries, were 
 raised again to haunt the ignorant and credulous ; 
 Avhen all this was done, as it were in the dark, and 
 secret invitations to join the Great Protestant Asso- 
 ciation in defence of religion, life, and liberty, were 
 dropped in the public ways, thrust under the house- 
 doors, tossed in at windows, and pressed into the 
 hands of those who trod the streets by night; when 
 they glared from every wall, and shone on every 
 post and pillar, so that stocks and stones appeared
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 419 
 
 infected with the common fear, urging all men to 
 join together blindfold in resistance of they knew 
 not what, they knew not why; — then the mania 
 spread indeed, and the body, still increasing every 
 day, grew forty thousand strong. 
 
 So said, at least, in this month of March, 1780, 
 Lord George Gordon, the Association's president. 
 Whether it was the fact or otherwise, few men 
 knew, or cared to ascertain. It had never made 
 any public demonstration ; had scarcely ever been 
 heard of, save through him ; had never been seen ; 
 and was supposed by many to be the mere creature 
 of his disordered brain. He was accustomed to talk 
 largely about numbers of men — stimulated, as it 
 was inferred, by certain successful disturbances, 
 arising out of the same subject, which had occurred 
 in Scotland in the previous year ; was looked upon 
 as a cracked-brained member of the Lower House, 
 who attacked all parties and sided with none, and 
 was very little regarded. It was known that there 
 was discontent abroad — there always is ; he had 
 been accustomed to address the people by placard, 
 speech, and pamphlet, upon other questions ; noth- 
 ing had come, in England, of his past exeBtions, and 
 nothing was apprehended from his present. Just 
 as he has come upon the reader, he had come, from 
 time to time, upon the public, and been forgotten in 
 a day ; as suddenly as he appears in these pages, 
 after a blank of five long years, did he and his 
 proceedings begin to force themselves, about this 
 period, upon the notice of thousands of people, who 
 had mingled in active life during the whole interval, 
 and who, without being deaf or blind to passing 
 events, had scarcely ever thought of him before.
 
 420 BAENABY BUDGE. 
 
 " My lord," said Gashford in liis ear as he drew 
 the curtains of his bed betimes ; " my lord ! " 
 
 « Yes — who's that ? What is it ? " 
 
 " The clock has struck nine," returned the secre- 
 tary with meekly folded hands. " You have slept 
 well ? I hope you have slept well ? If my prayers 
 are heard, you are refreshed indeed." 
 
 " To say the truth, I have slept so soundly," said 
 Lord George, rubbing his eyes and looking round 
 the room, " that I don't remember quite — What 
 place is this ? " 
 
 " My lord ! " cried Gashford with a smile. 
 
 " Oh ! " returned his superior. " Yes. You're 
 not a Jew, then ? " 
 
 " A Jew ! " exclaimed the pious secretary, recoil- 
 ing. 
 
 " I dreamed that we were Jews, Gashford. You 
 and I — both of us — Jews with long beards." 
 
 " Heaven forbid, my lord ! We might as well be 
 Papists." 
 
 "I suppose we might," returned the other 
 very quickly. " Eh ? You really think so, Gash- 
 ford ? " 
 
 " Surely I do," the secretary cried with looks of 
 great surprise. 
 
 " Humph ! " he muttered. " Yes, that seems rea- 
 sonable." 
 
 " I hope my lord — " the secretary began. 
 
 " Hope ! " he echoed, interrupting him. " Why 
 do you say you hope ? There's no harm in thinking 
 of such things." 
 
 " Not in dreams," returned the secretary. 
 
 " In dreams ! No, nor waking either." 
 
 " — 'Called, and chosen, and faithful,'" said
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 421 
 
 t 
 
 Gashford, taking up Lord George's watch, which, 
 lay upon a chair, and seeming to read the inscrip- 
 tion on the seal abstractedly. 
 
 It was the slightest action possible, not obtruded 
 on his notice, and apparently the result of a mo- 
 ment's absence of mind, not worth remark. But 
 as the words were uttered, Lord George, who had 
 been going on impetuously, stopped short, reddened, 
 and was silent. Apparently quite unconscious of 
 this change in his demeanor, the wily secretary 
 stepped a little apart, under pretence of pulling up 
 the window blind, and returning, when the other 
 had had time to recover, said, — 
 
 " The holy cause goes bravely on, my lord. I 
 was not idle, even last night. I dropped two of the 
 handbills before I went to bed, and both are gone 
 this morning. Nobody in the house has mentioned 
 the circumstance of finding them, though I have 
 been downstairs full half an hour. One or two 
 recruits will be their first fruit, I predict ; and who 
 shall say how many more, with Heaven's blessing 
 on your inspired exertions ? " 
 
 " It was a famous device in the beginning," re- 
 plied Lord George ; " an excellent device, and did 
 good service in Scotland. It was quite worthy of 
 you. You remind me not to be a sluggard, Gash- 
 ford, when the vineyard is menaced with destruc- 
 tion, and may be trodden down by Papist feet. Let 
 the horses be saddled in half an hour. We must be 
 up and doing ! " 
 
 He said this with a heightened color, and in a 
 tone of such enthusiasm, that the secretary deemed 
 all further prompting needless, and withdrew. 
 
 " — Dreamed he was a Jew," he said thoughtfully
 
 422 BARNABY EUDGE. 
 
 as he closed the bedroom door. " He may come to 
 that before he dies. It's like enough. "Well ! After 
 a time, and provided I lost nothing by it, I don't see 
 why that religion shouldn't suit me as well as any 
 other. There are rich men among the Jews ; shav- 
 ing is very troublesome; — yes, it would suit me 
 well enough. For the present, though, we must be 
 Christian to the core. Our prophetic motto will 
 suit all creeds in their turn, that's a comfort." 
 Reflecting on this source of consolation, he reached 
 the sitting-room, and rang the bell for breakfast. 
 
 Lord George was quickly dressed (for his plain 
 toilet was easily made), and, as he was no less frugal 
 in his repasts than in his Puritan attire, his share 
 of the meal was soon despatched. The secretary, 
 however, more devoted to the good things of this 
 world, or more intent on sustaining his strength and 
 spirits for the sake of the Protestant cause, ate and 
 drank to the last minute, and required, indeed, some 
 three or four reminders from John Grueby before 
 he could resolve to tear himself away from Mr. 
 AVillet's plentiful providing. 
 
 At length he came downstairs, wiping his greasy 
 mouth, and having paid John Willet's bill, climbed 
 into his saddle. Lord George, who had been walk- 
 ing up and down before the house talking to him- 
 self with earnest gestures, mounted his horse ; and 
 returning old John Willet's stately bow, as well as 
 the parting salutation of a dozen idlers whom the 
 rumor of a live lord being about to leave the May- 
 pole had gathered round the porch, they rode away, 
 with stout John Grueby in the rear. 
 
 If Lord George Gordon had appeared in the eyes 
 of Mr. Willet, overnight, a nobleman of somewhat
 
 BAENABY RUDGE. 423 
 
 quaint and odd exterior, the impression was con- 
 firmed this morning, and increased a hundred-fold. 
 Sitting bolt upright upon his bony steed, with his 
 long, straight hair dangling about his face and flut- 
 tering in the wind ; his limbs all angular and rigid, 
 his elbows stuck out on either side ungracefully, 
 and his whole frame jogged and shaken at every 
 motion of his horse's feet: a more grotesque or 
 more ungainly figure can hardly be conceived. In 
 lieu of whip, he carried in his hand a great gold- 
 headed cane, as large as any footman carries in 
 these days ; and his various modes of holding this 
 unwieldy weapon — now upright before his face 
 like the sabre of a horse-soldier, now over his 
 shoulder like a musket, now between his finger and 
 thumb, but always in some uncouth and awkward 
 fashion — contributed in no small degree to the ab- 
 surdity of his appearance. Stiff, lank, and solemn, 
 dressed in an unusual manner, and ostentatiously 
 exhibiting — whether by design or accident — all 
 his peculiarities of carriage, gesture, and conduct ; 
 all the qualities, natural and artificial, in which he 
 differed from other men ; he might have moved the 
 sternest looker-on to laughter, and fully provoked 
 the smiles and whispered jests which greeted his 
 departure from the Maypole Inn. 
 
 Quite unconscious, however, of the effect he pro- 
 duced, he trotted on beside his secretary, talking to 
 himself nearly all the way, until they came within 
 a mile or two of London, when now and then some 
 passenger went by who knew him by sight, and 
 pointed him out to some one else, and perhaps stood 
 looking after him, or cried in jest or earnest as it 
 might be, " Hurrah, Geordie ! No Popery ! " At
 
 424 BAENABY RUDGE. 
 
 which he would gravely pull off his hat, and bow. 
 When they reached the town and rode along the 
 streets, these notices became more frequent ; some 
 laughed, some hissed, some turned their heads and 
 smiled, some wondered who he was, some ran along 
 the pavement by his side and cheered. When this 
 happened in a crush of carts and chairs and coaches, 
 he would make a dead stop, and pulling off his hat, 
 cry, " Gentlemen, No Popery ! " to which the gentle- 
 men would respond with lusty voices, and with three 
 times three ; and then, on he would go again, with 
 a score or so of the raggedest following at his horse's 
 heels, and shouting till their throats were parched. 
 
 The old ladies, too — there were a great many old 
 ladies in the streets, and these all knew him. Some 
 of them — not those of the highest rank, but such 
 as sold fruit from baskets and carried burdens — 
 clapped their shrivelled hands, and raised a weazen, 
 piping, shrill " Hurrah, my lord ! " Others waved 
 their hands or handkerchiefs, or shook their fans 
 or parasols, or threw up windows, and called in haste 
 to those within to come and see. All these marks 
 of popular esteem he received with profound gravity 
 and respect; bowing very low, and so frequently 
 that his hat was more off his head than on ; and 
 looking up at the houses, as he passed along, with 
 the air of one who was making a public entry, and 
 yet was not puffed up or proud. 
 
 So they rode (to the deep and unspeakable disgust 
 of John Grueby) the whole length of Whitechapel, 
 Leadenhall Street, and Cheapside, and into St. Paul's 
 Churchyard. ' Arriving close to the cathedral, he 
 halted ; spoke to Gashford ; and looking upward at 
 its lofty dome, shook his head as though he said,
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 425 
 
 " The Church in Danger ! " Then, to be sure, the 
 bystanders stretched their throats indeed ; and he 
 went on again with mighty acclamations from the 
 mob, and lower bows than ever. 
 
 So along the Strand, up Swallow Street, into the 
 Oxford Eoad, and thence to his house in Welbeck 
 Street, near Cavendish Square, whither he was 
 attended by a few dozen idlers ; of whom he took 
 leave on the steps with this brief parting, " Gen- 
 tlemen, No Popery. Good-day. God bless you." 
 This, being a rather shorter address than they 
 expected, was received with some displeasure, and 
 cries of " A speech ! a speech ! " which might have 
 been complied with, but that John Grueby, making 
 a mad charge upon them with all three horses, on his 
 way to the stables, caused them to disperse into the 
 adjoining fields, where they presently fell to pitch- 
 and-toss, chuck-farthing, odd-or-even, dog-fighting, 
 and other Protestant recreations. 
 
 In the afternoon Lord George came forth again, 
 dressed in a black velvet coat, and trousers and 
 waistcoat of the Gordon plaid, all of the same 
 Quaker cut ; and in this costume, which made him 
 look a dozen times more strange and singular than 
 before, went down on foot to Westminster. Gash- 
 ford, meanwhile, bestirred himself in business 
 matters ; with which he was still engaged when, 
 shortly after dusk, John Grueby entered and an- 
 nounced a visitor. 
 
 " Let him come in," said Gashford. 
 
 " Here ! come in ! " growled John to somebody 
 without. " You're a Protestant, ain't you ? " 
 
 " / should think so," replied a deep, gruff voice. 
 
 " You've the looks of it," said John Grueby. "I'd
 
 426 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 have known you for one anywhere." With which 
 remark he gave the visitor admission, retired, and 
 shut the door. 
 
 The man who now confronted Gashford was a 
 squat, thick-set personage, with a low retreating 
 forehead, a coarse shock head of hair, and eyes so 
 small and near together, that his broken nose alone 
 seemed to prevent their meeting and fusing into one 
 of the usual size. A dingy handkerchief, twisted 
 like a cord about his neck, left its great veins 
 exposed to view, and they were swollen and starting, 
 as though with gulping down strong passions, mal- 
 ice, and ill will. His dress was of threadbare vel- 
 veteen — a faded, rusty, whitened black, like the 
 ashes of a pipe or a coal fire after a day's extinction ; 
 discolored with the soils of many a stale debauch, 
 and reeking yet with pot-house odors. In lieu of 
 buckles at his knees, he wore unequal loops of pack- 
 thread ; and in his grimy hands he held a knotted 
 stick, the knob of which was carved into a rough 
 likeness of his own vile face. Such was the visitor 
 who doffed his three-cornered hat in Gashford's 
 presence, and waited, leering, for his notice. 
 
 "Ah ! Dennis ! " cried the secretary. " Sit 
 down." 
 
 " I see my lord down yonder," cried the man, 
 with a jerk of his thumb towards the quarter that 
 he spoke of, " and he says to me, says my lord, ' If 
 you've nothing to do, Dennis, go up to my house and 
 talk with Muster Gashford.' Of course I'd nothing 
 to do, you know. These ain't my working hours. 
 Ha, ha ! I was a taking the air when I see my lord, 
 that's what I was doing. I takes the air by night, 
 as the howls does, Muster Gashford."
 
 BARNABY EUDGE. 427 
 
 " And sometimes in the daytime, eh ? " said the 
 secretary — " when you go out in state, you know." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " roared the fellow, smiting his leg ; 
 "for a gentleman as 'ull say a pleasant thing in a 
 pleasant way, give me Muster Gashford agin all 
 London and Westminster ! My lord ain't a bad 'un 
 at that, but he's a fool to you. Ah, to be sure, — 
 when I go out in state." 
 
 "And have your carriage," said the secretary; 
 " and your chaplain, eh ? and all the rest of it ? " 
 
 " You'll be the death of me," cried Dennis with 
 another roar, "you will. But what's in the wind 
 now, Muster Gashford," he asked hoarsely, " eh ? 
 Are we to be under orders to pull down one of them 
 Popish chapels — or what ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " said the secretary, suffering the faint- 
 est smile to play upon his face. " Hush ! God 
 bless me, Dennis ! We associate, you know, for 
 strictly peaceable and lawful purposes." 
 
 " / know, bless you," returned the man, thrusting 
 his tongue into his cheek ; " I entered a purpose, 
 didn't I ? " 
 
 "~No doubt," said Gashford, smiling as before. 
 And when he said so, Dennis roared again, and 
 smote his leg still harder, and, falling into fits 
 of laughter, wiped his eyes with the corner of his 
 neckerchief, and cried, "Muster Gashford agin all 
 England hollow ! " 
 
 " Lord George and I were talking of you last 
 night," said Gashford after a pause. " He says you 
 are a very earnest fellow." 
 
 " So I am," returned the hangman. 
 
 " And that you truly hate the Papists." 
 
 " So I do," and he confirmed it with a good round
 
 428 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 oath. "Lookye here, Muster Gashford," said the 
 fellow, laying his hat and stick upon the floor, 
 and slowly beating the palm of one hand with the 
 fingers of the other. " Ob-serve. I'm a constitu- 
 tional officer that works for my living, and does my 
 work creditable. Do I, or do I not ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably." 
 
 " Very good. Stop a minute. My work is sound, 
 Protestant, constitutional, English work. Is it, or 
 is it not ? " 
 
 "No man alive can doubt it." 
 
 "Nor dead neither. Parliament says this here — 
 says Parliament, ' If any man, woman, or child does 
 anything which goes again a certain number of our 
 acts — ' How many hanging laws may there be at 
 this present time, Muster Gashford ? Fifty ? " 
 
 " I don't exactly know how many," replied Gash- 
 ford, leaning back in his chair and yawning; "a 
 great number, though." 
 
 " "Well ; say fifty. Parliament says, ' If any man, 
 woman, or child does anything again any one of 
 them fifty acts, that man, woman, or child shall be 
 worked off by Dennis.' George the Third steps in 
 when they number very strong at the end of a ses- 
 sions, and says, 'These are too many for Dennis. 
 I'll have half for myself, and Dennis shall have half 
 for himself ; ' and sometimes he throws me in one 
 over that I don't expect, as he did three years ago, 
 when I got Mary Jones, a young woman of nineteen 
 who come up to Tyburn with a infant at her breast, 
 and was worked off for taking a piece of cloth off 
 the counter of a shop in Ludgate Hill, and putting 
 it down again when the shopman see her ; and who 
 had never done any harm before, and only tried to
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 429 
 
 do that in consequence of her husband having been 
 pressed three weeks previous, and she being left to 
 beg, with two young children — as was proved upon 
 the trial. Ha, ha ! — Well ! That being the law 
 and the practice of England, is the glory of Eng- 
 land, ain't it, Muster Gashford ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the secretary. 
 
 " And in times to come," pursued the hangman, 
 "if our grandsons should think of their grand- 
 fathers' times, and find these things altered, they'll 
 say, ' Those were days indeed, and we've been going 
 downhill ever since.' — Won't they, Muster Gash- 
 ford ? " 
 
 " I have no doubt they will," said the secretary. 
 
 " Well, then, look here," said the hangman. " If 
 these Papists gets into power, and begins to boil 
 and roast instead of hang, what becomes of my 
 work ? If they touch my work, that's a part of so 
 many laws, what becomes of the laws in general, 
 what becomes of the religion, what becomes of the 
 country ? — Did you ever go to church, Muster 
 Gashford ? " 
 
 " Ever ! " repeated the secretary with some indig- 
 nation ; " of course." 
 
 "Well," said the ruffian, "I've been once — twice, 
 counting the time I was christened — and when I 
 heard the Parliament prayed for, and thought how 
 many new hanging laws they made every sessions, 
 I considered that / was prayed for. Now mind, 
 Muster Gashford," said the fellow, taking up his 
 stick and shaking it with a ferocious air, "I mustn't 
 have my Protestant work touched, nor this here 
 Protestant state of things altered in no degree, if 
 I can help it; I mustn't have no Papists interfering
 
 430 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 with me, unless they come to me to be worked off 
 in course of law ; I mustn't have no biling, no roast- 
 ing, no frying — nothing but hanging. My lord may 
 well call me an earnest fellow. In support of the 
 great Protestant principle of having plenty of that, 
 I'll," and here he beat his club upon the ground, 
 " burn, fight, kill — do anything you bid me, so that 
 it's bold and devilish — though the end of it was, 
 that I got hung myself. — There, Muster Gashford ! " 
 
 He appropriately followed up this frequent pros- 
 titution of a noble word to the vilest purposes by 
 pouring out, in a kind of ecstasy, at least a score of 
 most tremendous oaths ; then wiped his heated face 
 upon his neckerchief, and cried, " No Popery ! I'm 
 a religious man, by G — ! " 
 
 Gashford had leant back in his chair, regarding 
 him with eyes so sunken, and so shadowed by his 
 heavy brows, that, for aught the hangman saw of 
 them, he might have been stone blind. He re- 
 mained smiling in silence for a short time longer, 
 and then said, slowly and distinctly, — 
 
 " You are indeed an earnest fellow, Dennis — a 
 most valuable fellow — the stanchest man I know 
 of in our ranks. But you must calm yourself; you 
 must be peacefid, lawful, mild as any lamb. I am 
 sure you will be, though." 
 
 " Ay, ay, we shall see, Muster Gashford, we shall 
 see. You won't have to complain of me," returned 
 the other, shaking his head. 
 
 '} I am sure I shall not," said the secretary in the 
 same mild tone, and with the same emphasis. " We 
 shall have, we think, about next month or May, 
 when this Papist Relief Bill comes before the House, 
 to convene our whole body for the first time. My
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 431 
 
 lord has thoughts of our walking in procession 
 through the streets — just as an innocent display 
 of strength — and accompanying our petition down 
 to the door of the House of Commons." 
 
 " The sooner the better," said Dennis with another 
 oath. 
 
 " We shall have to draw up in divisions, our num- 
 bers being so large ; and I believe I may venture to 
 say," resumed Gashford, affecting not to hear the 
 interruption, "though I have no direct instructions 
 to that effect — that Lord George has thought of 
 you as an excellent leader for one of these parties. 
 I have no doubt you would be an admirable one." 
 
 " Try me," said the fellow with an ugly wink. 
 
 " You would be cool, I know," pursued the secre- 
 tary, still smiling, and still managing his eyes so 
 that he could watch him closely, and really not be 
 seen in turn, "obedient to orders, and perfectly 
 temperate. You would lead your party into no 
 danger I am certain." 
 
 "I'd lead them, Muster Gashford — " the hang- 
 man was beginning in a reckless way, when Gash- 
 ford started forward, laid his finger on his lips, and 
 feigned to write, just as the door was opened by 
 John Grueby. 
 
 "Oh!" said John, looking in; "here's another 
 Protestant." 
 
 " Some other room, John," cried Gashford in his 
 blandest voice. "I am engaged just now." 
 
 But John had brought this new visitor to the 
 door, and he walked in unbidden as the words were 
 uttered ; giving to view the form and features, rough 
 attire, and reckless air of Hugh.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 The secretary put his hand before his eyes to 
 shade them from the glare of the lamp, and for 
 some moments looked at Hugh with a frowning 
 brow, as if he remembered to have seen him lately, 
 but could not call to mind where, or on what occa- 
 sion. His uncertainty was very brief, for before 
 Hugh had spoken a word, he said, as his counte- 
 nance cleared up, — 
 
 " Ay, ay, I recollect. It's quite right, John, you 
 needn't wait. Don't go, Dennis." 
 
 " Your servant, master," said Hugh as Grueby 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Yours, friend," returned the secretary in his 
 smoothest manner. " What brings you here ? We 
 left nothing behind us, I hope ? " 
 
 Hugh gave a short laugh, and thrusting his hand 
 into his breast, produced one of the handbills, soiled 
 and dirty from lying out of doors all night, which 
 he laid upon the secretary's desk after flattening it 
 upon his knee, and smoothing out the wrinkles with 
 his heavy palm. 
 
 " Nothing but that, master. It fell into good 
 hands, you see." 
 
 " What is this ? " said Gashford, turning it over 
 with an air of perfectly natural surprise. " Where 
 
 432
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 433 
 
 did you get it from, my good fellow ; what does it 
 mean ? I don't understand this at all." 
 
 A little disconcerted by this reception, Hugh 
 looked from the secretary to Dennis, who had risen 
 and was standing at the table too, observing the 
 stranger by stealth, and seeming to derive the ut- 
 most satisfaction from his manners and appearance. 
 Considering himself silently appealed to by this 
 action, Mr. Dennis shook his head thrice, as if to 
 say of Gashford, " No. He don't know anything at 
 all about it. I know he don't. I'll take my oath 
 he don't , " and hiding his profile from Hugh with 
 one long end of his frowzy neckerchief, nodded and 
 chuckled behind this screen in extreme approval of 
 the secretary's proceedings. 
 
 " It tells the man that finds it to come here, don't 
 it ? " asked Hugh. " I'm no scholar myself, but I 
 showed it to a friend, and he said it did." 
 
 " It certainly does," said Gashford, opening his 
 eyes to their utmost width ; " really this is the most 
 remarkable circumstance I have ever known. How 
 did you come by this piece of paper, my good 
 friend ? " 
 
 " Muster Gashford," wheezed the hangman under 
 his breath, " agin all Newgate ! " 
 
 "Whether Hugh heard him, or saw by his manner 
 that he was being played upon, or perceived the 
 secretary's drift of himself, he came in his blunt 
 way to the point at once. 
 
 " Here ! " he said, stretching out his hand and 
 taking it back ; " never mind the bill, or what it 
 says, or what it don't say. You don't know any- 
 thing about it, master, — no more do I, — no more 
 does he," glancing at Dennis. "None of us know 
 vol. I.-28.
 
 434 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 what it means, or where it comes from ; there's an 
 end of that. Now I want to make one against the 
 Catholics. I'm a No-Popery man, and ready to be 
 sworn in. That's what I've come here for." 
 
 "Put him down on the roll, Muster Gashford," 
 said Dennis approvingly. " That's the way to go to 
 work — right to the end at once, and no palaver." 
 
 "What's the use of shooting wide of the mark, 
 eh, old boy ? " cried Hugh. 
 
 " My sentiments all over ! " rejoined the hangman. 
 "This is the sort of chap for my division, Muster 
 Gashford. Down with him, sir. Put him on the 
 roll. I'd stand godfather to him, if he was to be 
 christened in a bonfire made of the ruins of the Bank 
 of England." 
 
 With these and other expressions of confidence of 
 the like flattering kind, Mr. Dennis gave him a 
 hearty slap on the back, which Hugh was not slow 
 to return. 
 
 "No Popery, brother ! " cried the hangman. 
 
 " No Property, brother ! " responded Hugh. 
 
 " Popery, Popery," said the secretary with his 
 usual mildness. 
 
 "It's all the same," cried Dennis. "It's all 
 right. Down with him, Muster Gashford. Down 
 with everybody, down with everything! Hurrah 
 for the Protestant religion ! That's the time of day, 
 Muster Gashford ! " 
 
 The secretary regarded them both with a very 
 favorable expression of countenance, while they 
 gave loose to these and other demonstrations of 
 their patriotic purpose ; and was about to make 
 some remark aloud, when Dennis, stepping up to 
 him, and shading his mouth with his hand, said, in
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 435 
 
 a hoarse whisper, as he nudged him with his 
 elbow, — 
 
 " Don't split upon a constitutional officer's pro- 
 fession, Muster Gashford. There are popular pre- 
 judices, you know, and he mightn't like it. Wait 
 till he comes to be more intimate with me. He's a 
 fine-built chap, ain't he ? " 
 
 " A powerful fellow indeed ! " 
 
 " Did you ever, Muster Gashford," whispered 
 Dennis with a horrible kind of admiration, such as 
 that with which a cannibal might regard his inti- 
 mate friend when hungry, — "did }'Ou ever" — and 
 here he drew still closer to his ear, and fenced his 
 mouth with both his open hands — " see such a 
 throat as his ? Do but cast your eye upon it. 
 There's a neck for stretching, Muster Gashford ! " 
 
 The secretary assented to this proposition with 
 the best grace he could assume — it is difficult to 
 feign a true professional relish : which is eccentric 
 sometimes — and after asking the candidate a few 
 unimportant questions, proceeded to enroll him a 
 member of the Great Protestant Association of En<?- 
 land. If anything could have exceeded Mr. Dennis's 
 joy on the happy conclusion of this ceremony, it 
 would have been the rapture with which he received 
 the announcement that the new member could 
 neither read nor write ; those two arts being (as 
 Mr. Dennis swore) the greatest possible curse a civ- 
 ilized community could know, and militating more 
 against the professional emoluments and usefulness 
 of the great constitutional office he had the honor to 
 hold, than any adverse circumstances that could 
 present themselves to his imagination. 
 
 The enrolment being completed, and Hugh having
 
 436 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 been informed by Gashford, in his peculiar manner, 
 of the peaceful and strictly lawful objects contem- 
 plated by the body to which he now belonged — 
 during which recital Mr. Dennis nudged him very 
 much with his elbow, and made divers remarkable 
 faces — the secretary gave them both to understand 
 that he desired to be alone. Therefore they took 
 their leaves without delay, and came out of the 
 house together. 
 
 " Are you walking, brother ? " said Dennis. 
 
 " Ay ! " returned Hugh. '• Where you will." 
 
 " That's social," said his new friend. " Which way 
 shall we take ? Shall we go and have a look at 
 doors that we shall make a pretty good clattering at 
 before long — eh, brother ? " 
 
 Hugh answering in the affirmative, they went 
 slowly down to Westminster, where both Houses of 
 Parliament were then sitting. Mingling in the 
 crowd of carriages, horses, servants, chairmen, link- 
 boys, porters, and idlers of all kinds, they lounged 
 about ; while Hugh's new friend pointed out to him 
 significantly the weak parts of the building, how 
 easy it was to get into the lobby, and so to the very 
 door of the House of Commons ; and how plainly, 
 when they inarched down there in grand array, 
 their roars and shouts would be heard by the mem- 
 bers inside; with a great deal more to the same 
 purpose, all of which Hugh received with manifest 
 delight. 
 
 He told him, too, who some of the Lords and 
 Commons were, by name, as they came in and out ; 
 whether they were friendly to the Papists or other- 
 wise ; and bade him take notice of their liveries and 
 ecpiipages, that he might be sure of thern in case of
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 437 
 
 need. Sometimes he drew him close to the windows 
 of a passing carriage, that he might see its master's 
 face by the light of the lamps ; and, both in respect 
 of people and localities, he showed so much acquaint- 
 ance with everything around, that it was plain he 
 had often studied there before ; as indeed, when they 
 grew a little more confidential, he confessed he had. 
 
 Perhaps the most striking part of all this was, the 
 number of people — never in groups of more than 
 two or three together — who seemed to be skulking 
 about the crowd for the same purpose. To the 
 greater part of these, a slight nod or a look from 
 Hugh's companion was sufficient greeting ; but, now 
 and then, some man would come and stand beside 
 him in the throng, and, without turning his head or 
 appearing to communicate with him, would say a 
 word or two in a low voice, which he would answer 
 in the same cautious manner. Then they would part 
 like strangers. Some of these men often re-appeared 
 again unexpectedly in the crowd close to Hugh, and, 
 as they passed by, pressed his hand, or looked him 
 sternly in the face ; but they never spoke to him, 
 nor he to them ; no, not a word. 
 
 It was remarkable, too, that whenever they hap- 
 pened to stand where there was any press of people, 
 and Hugh chanced to be looking downward, he was 
 sure to see an arm stretched out — under his own 
 perhaps, or perhaps across him — which thrust some 
 paper into the hand or pocket of a bystander, and 
 was so suddenly withdrawn that it was impossible 
 to tell from whom it came ; nor could he see in any 
 face, on glancing quickly round, the least confusion 
 or surprise. They often trod upon a paper like the 
 one he carried in his breast, but his companion
 
 438 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 whispered him not to touch it or to take it up, — 
 not even to look towards it, — so there they let them 
 lie, aud passed on. 
 
 When they had paraded the street and all the 
 avenues of the building in this manner for near two 
 hours, they turned away, and his friend asked him 
 what he thought of what he had seen, and whether 
 he was prepared for a good hot piece of work if it 
 should come to that. " The hotter the better," said 
 Hugh, " I am prepared for anything." — " So am I," 
 said his friend, " and so are many of us ; " and they 
 shook hands upon it with a great oath, and with 
 many terrible imprecations on the Papists. 
 
 As they were thirsty by this time, Dennis proposed 
 that they should repair together to The Boot, where 
 there was good company and strong liquor. Hugh 
 yielding a ready assent, they bent their steps that 
 way with no loss of time. 
 
 This Boot was a lone house of public entertain- 
 ment, situated in the fields at the back of the 
 Foundling Hospital; a very solitary spot at that 
 period, and quite deserted after dark. The tavern 
 stood at some distance from any high-road, and was 
 approachable only by a dark and narrow lane ; so 
 that Hugh was much surprised to find several peo- 
 ple drinking there, and great merriment going on. 
 He was still more surprised to find among them 
 almost every face that had caught his attention in 
 the crowd; but his companion having whispered him, 
 outside the door, that it was not considered good 
 manners at The Boot to appear at all curious about 
 the company, he kept his own counsel, and made no 
 show of recognition. 
 
 Before putting his lips to the liquor which was
 
 • r ■"■/<>* 
 
 
 ' . . ..
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 439 
 
 brought for them, Dennis drank in a loud voice the 
 health of Lord George Gordon, President of the 
 Great Protestant Association ; which toast Hugh 
 pledged likewise with corresponding enthusiasm. 
 A fiddler, who was present, and who appeared to act 
 as the appointed minstrel of the company, forthwith 
 struck up a Scotch reel ; and that in tones so 
 invigorating, that Hugh and his friend (who had 
 both been drinking before) rose from their seats as 
 by previous concert, and, to the great admiration of 
 the assembled guests, performed an extemporaneous 
 No-Popery Dance.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The applause which the performance of Hugh 
 and his new friend elicited from the company at 
 The Boot had not yet subsided, and the two dancers 
 were still panting from their exertions, which had 
 been of a rather extreme and violent character, 
 when the party was re-enforced by the arrival of 
 some more guests, who, being a detachment of 
 United Bulldogs, were received with very flattering 
 marks of distinction and respect. 
 
 The leader of this small party — for, including 
 himself, they were but three in number — was our 
 old acquaintance, Mr. Tappertit, who seemed, physi- 
 cally speaking, to have grown smaller with years 
 (particularly as to his legs, which were stupen- 
 dously little), but who, in a moral point of view, in 
 personal dignity and self-esteem, had swelled into a 
 giant. Nor was it by any means difficult for the 
 most unobservant person to detect this state of feel- 
 ing in the quondam 'prentice, for it not only pro- 
 claimed itself impressively and beyond mistake in 
 his majestic walk and kindling eye, but found a 
 striking means of revelation in his turned-up nose, 
 which scouted all things of earth with deep disdain, 
 and sought communion with its kindred skies. 
 
 Mr. Tappertit, as chief or captain of the Bulldogs, 
 
 440 
 
 j
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 441 
 
 was attended by his two lieutenants ; one, the tall 
 comrade of his younger life ; the other, a 'Prentice 
 Knight in days of yore — Mark Gilbert, bound in the 
 olden time to Thomas Curzon of the Golden Fleece. 
 These gentlemen, like himself, were now emanci- 
 pated from their 'prentice thraldom, and served as 
 journeymen; but they were, in humble emulation 
 of his great example, bold and daring spirits, and 
 aspired to a distinguished state in great political 
 events. Hence their connection with the Protestant 
 Association of England, sanctioned by the name of 
 Lord George Gordon ; and hence their present visit 
 to The Boot. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " said Mr. Tappertit, taking off his 
 hat as a great general might in addressing his 
 troops. " Well met. My lord does me and you the 
 honor to send his compliments per self." 
 
 " You've seen my lord too, have you ? " said 
 Dennis. " / see him this afternoon." 
 
 " My duty called me to the Lobby when our shop 
 shut up ; and I saw him there, sir," Mr. Tappertit 
 replied, as he and his lieutenants took their seats. 
 " How do you do ? " 
 
 " Lively, master, lively," said the fellow. " Here's 
 a new brother, regularly put down in black and 
 white by Muster Gashford ; a credit to the cause ; 
 one of the stick-at-nothing sort ; one arter my own 
 heart. D'ye see him ? Has he got the looks of a 
 man that'll do, do you think ? " he cried, as he 
 slapped Hugh on the back. 
 
 " Looks or no looks," said Hugh, with a drunken 
 flourish of his arm, " I'm the man you want. I 
 hate the Papists, every one of 'em. They hate 
 me, and I hate them. They do me all the harm
 
 442 BAKNABY BUDGE. 
 
 they can, and I'll do them all the harm i" can. 
 Hurrah ! " 
 
 "Was there ever," said Dennis, looking round the 
 room, when the echo of his boisterous voice had died 
 away ; " was there ever such a game boy ? Why, I 
 mean to say, brothers, that if Muster Gashford had 
 gone a hundred mile, and got together fifty men of 
 the common run, they wouldn't have been worth 
 this one." 
 
 The greater part of the company implicitly sub- 
 scribed to this opinion, and testified their faith in 
 Hugh by nods and looks of great significance. Mr. 
 Tappertit sat and contemplated him for a long time 
 in silence, as if he suspended his judgment; then 
 drew a little nearer to him, and eyed him over more 
 carefully ; then went close up to him, and took him 
 apart into a dark corner. 
 
 " I say," he began with a thoughtful brow, " haven't 
 I seen you before ? " 
 
 "It's like you may," said Hugh in his careless 
 way. " I don't know ; shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " No, but it's very easily settled," returned Sim. 
 " Look at me. Did you ever see me before ? You 
 wouldn't be likely to forget it, you know, if you 
 ever did. Look at me. Don't be afraid ; I won't 
 do you any harm. Take a good look — steady now." 
 
 The encouraging way in which Mr. Tappertit 
 made this request, and coupled it with an assurance 
 that he needn't be frightened, amused Hugh mightily 
 — so much, indeed, that he saw nothing at all of the 
 small man before him, through closing his eyes in a 
 fit of hearty laughter, which shook his great broad 
 sides until they ached again. 
 
 " Come ! " said Mr. Tappertit, growing a little
 
 . ...... , . .
 
 BAKNABY BUDGE. 443 
 
 impatient under this disrespectful treatment. " Do 
 you know me, feller ? " 
 
 "Not I," cried Hugh. "Ha, ha, ha! Not I! 
 But I should like to." 
 
 " And yet I'd have wagered a seven-shilling piece," 
 said Mr. Tappertit, folding his arms, and confront- 
 ing him with his legs wide apart and firmly planted 
 on the ground, " that you once were hostler at the 
 Maypole." 
 
 Hugh opened his eyes on hearing this, and looked 
 at him in great surprise. 
 
 " — And so you were, too," said Mr. Tappertit, 
 pushing him away with a condescending playful- 
 ness. " When did my eyes ever deceive — unless it 
 was a young woman ? Don't you know me now ? " 
 
 " Why, it ain't — " Hugh faltered. 
 
 "Ain't it ? " said Mr. Tappertit. "Are you sure 
 of that ? You remember G. Varden, don't you ? " 
 
 Certainly Hugh did, and he remembered D. Var- 
 den too ; but that he didn't tell him. 
 
 " You remember coming down there, before I was 
 out of my time, to ask after a vagabond that had 
 bolted off, and left his disconsolate father a prey to 
 the bitterest emotions, and all the rest of it — don't 
 you ? " said Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 " Of course I do ! " cried Hugh. " And I saw you 
 there." 
 
 " Saw me there ! " said Mr. Tappertit. " Yes, I 
 should think you did see me there. The place 
 would be troubled to go on without me. Don't you 
 remember my thinking you liked the vagabond, and 
 on that account going to quarrel with you ; and then, 
 finding you detested him worse than poison, going 
 to drink with you ? Don't you remember that ? " 
 
 " To be sure ! " cried Hugh.
 
 444 BARNABY KUDGE. 
 
 " "Well ! and are you in the same mind now ? " 
 said Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 " Yes ! " roared Hugh. 
 
 " You speak like a man," said Mr. Tappertit, " and 
 I'll shake hands with you." With these concilia- 
 tory expressions he suited the action to the word ; 
 and Hugh meeting his advances readily, they per- 
 formed the ceremony with a show of great hearti- 
 ness. 
 
 " I find," said Mr. Tappertit, looking round on the 
 assembled guests, " that brother What's-his-name 
 and I are old acquaintance. — You never heard any- 
 thing more of that rascal, I suppose, eh ? " 
 
 "Not a syllable," replied Hugh. "I never want 
 to. I don't believe I ever shall. He's dead long 
 ago, I hope." 
 
 " It's to be hoped, for the sake of mankind in 
 general and the happiness of society, that he is," 
 said Mr. Tappertit, rubbing his palm upon his legs, 
 and looking at it between-whiles. " Is your other 
 hand at all cleaner ? Much the same. Well, I'll 
 owe you another shake. We'll suppose it done, if 
 you've no objection." 
 
 Hugh laughed again, and with such thorough 
 abandonment to his mad humor, that his limbs 
 seemed dislocated, and his whole frame in danger of 
 tumbling to pieces ; but Mr. Tappertit, so far from 
 receiving this extreme merriment with any irrita- 
 tion, was pleased to regard it with the utmost favor, 
 and even to join in it, so far as one of his gravity 
 and station could, with any regard to that decency 
 and decorum which men in high places are expected 
 to maintain. 
 
 Mr. Tappertit did not stop here, as many public
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 445 
 
 characters might have done, but calling up his brace 
 of lieutenants, introduced Hugh to them with high 
 commendation ; declaring him to be a man who, at 
 such times as those in which they lived, could not 
 be too much cherished. Further, he did him the 
 honor to remark, that he would be an acquisition of 
 which even the United Bulldogs might be proud; 
 and finding, upon sounding him, that he was quite 
 ready and willing to enter the society (for he was 
 not at all particular, and would have leagued him- 
 self that night with anything, or anybody, for any 
 purpose whatsoever), caused the necessary prelimi- 
 naries to be gone into upon the spot. This tribute 
 to his great merit delighted no man more than Mr. 
 Dennis, as he himself proclaimed with several rare 
 and surprising oaths ; and, indeed, it gave unmin- 
 gled satisfaction to the whole assembly. 
 
 " Make anything you like of me ! " cried Hugh, 
 nourishing the can he had emptied more than once. 
 " Put me on any duty you please. I'm your man. 
 I'll do it. Here's my captain — here's my leader. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! Let him give me the word of command, 
 and I'll fight the whole Parliament House single- 
 handed, or set a lighted torch to the King's Throne 
 itself ! " With that, he smote Mr. Tappertit on the 
 back with such violence that his little body seemed 
 to shrink into a mere nothing ; and roared again 
 until the very foundlings near at hand were startled 
 in their beds. 
 
 In fact, a sense of something whimsical in their 
 companionship seemed to have taken entire posses- 
 sion of his rude brain. The bare fact of being 
 patronized by a great man whom he could have 
 crushed with one hand, appeared in his eyes so
 
 446 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 eccentric and humorous, that a kind of ferocious 
 merriment gained the mastery over him, and quite 
 subdued his brutal nature. He roared and roared 
 again ; toasted Mr. Tappertit a hundred times ; 
 declared himself a Bulldog to the core ; and vowed 
 to be faithful to him to the last drop of blood in his 
 veins. 
 
 All these compliments Mr. Tappertit received as 
 matters of course — flattering enough in their way, 
 but entirely attributable to his vast superiority. 
 His dignified self-possession only delighted Hugh 
 the more ; and, in a Avord, this giant and dwarf 
 struck up a friendship which bade fair to be of long 
 continuance, as the one held it to be his right to 
 command, and the other considered it an exquisite 
 pleasantry to obey. Nor was Hugh by any means a 
 passive follower, who scrupled to act without pre- 
 cise and definite orders ; for when Mr. Tappertit 
 mounted on an empty cask which stood by way of 
 rostrum in the room, and volunteered a speech upon 
 the alarming crisis then at hand, he placed himself 
 beside the orator, and though he grinned from ear 
 to ear at every word he said, threw out such expres- 
 sive hints to scoffers in the management of his 
 cudgel, that those who were at first the most dis- 
 posed to interrupt, became remarkably attentive, 
 and were the loudest in their approbation. 
 
 It was not all noise and jest, however, at The 
 Boot, nor were the whole party listeners to the 
 speech. There were some men at the other end of 
 the room (whicli was a long, low-roofed chamber) in 
 earnest conversation all the time ; and, when any of 
 this group went out, fresh people were sure to come 
 in soon afterwards, and sit down in their places, as
 
 ■ •'-,. . ; 
 
 ' ■■ 
 
 r '^ ' ; 

 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 447 
 
 though the others had relieved them on some watch 
 or duty ; which it was pretty clear they did, for 
 these changes took place by the clock, at intervals 
 of half an hour. These persons whispered very 
 much among themselves, and kept aloof, and often 
 looked round, as jealous of their speech being over- 
 heard ; some two or three among them entered in 
 books what seemed to be reports from the others ; 
 when they were not thus employed, one of them 
 would turn to the newspapers which were strewn 
 upon the table, and from the St. James's Chronicle, 
 the Herald, Chronicle, or Public Advertiser, would 
 read to the rest in a low voice some passage having 
 reference to the topic in which they were all so 
 deeply interested. But the great attraction was a 
 pamphlet called The Thunderer, which espoused 
 their own opinions, and was supposed at that time 
 to emanate directly from the Association. This 
 was always in request : and whether read aloud to 
 an eager knot of listeners, or by some solitary man, 
 was certain to be followed by stormy talking and 
 excited looks. 
 
 In the midst of all his merriment and admiration 
 of his captain, Hugh was made sensible, by these 
 and other tokens, of the presence of an air of mys- 
 tery, akin to that which had so much impressed him 
 out of doors. It was impossible to discard a sense 
 that something serious was going on, and that, 
 under the noisy revel of the public-house, there 
 lurked unseen and dangerous matter. Little af- 
 fected by this, however, he was perfectly satisfied 
 with his quarters, and would have remained there 
 till morning, but that his conductor rose soon after 
 midnight to go home ; Mr. Tappertit following his
 
 448 BARNABY RTJDGE. 
 
 example, left him no excuse to stay. So they all 
 three left the house together : roaring a No-Popery 
 song until the fields resounded with the dismal 
 noise. 
 
 " Cheer up, captain ! " cried Hugh, when they had 
 roared themselves out of breath. " Another stave ! " 
 
 Mr. Tappertit, nothing loath, began again; and 
 so the three went staggering on, arm-in-arm, shout- 
 ing like madmen, and defying the watch with great 
 valor. Indeed, this did not require any unusual 
 bravery or boldness, as the watchmen of that time, 
 being selected for the office on account of excessive 
 age and extraordinary infirmity, had a custom of 
 shutting themselves up tight in their boxes on the 
 first symptoms of disturbance, and remaining there 
 until they disappeared. In these proceedings, Mr. 
 Dennis, who had a gruff voice and lungs of consid- 
 erable power, distinguished himself very much, and 
 acquired great credit with his two companions. 
 
 " What a queer fellow you are ! " said Mr. Tapper- 
 tit. " You're so precious sly and close. Why don't 
 you ever tell what trade you're of ? " 
 
 "Answer the captain instantly," cried Hugh, 
 beating his hat down on his head. " Why don't you 
 ever tell what trade you're of ? " 
 
 " I'm of as gen-teel a calling, brother, as any man 
 in England — as light a business as any gentleman 
 could desire." 
 
 "Was you 'prenticed to it? " asked Mr. Tapper- 
 tit. 
 
 "No. Natural genius," said Mr. Dennis. "No 
 'prenticing. It come by natur'. Muster Gashford 
 knows my calling. Look at that hand of mine — 
 many and many a job that hand has done with a
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 449 
 
 neatness and dex-terity never known afore. When 
 I look at that hand," said Mr. Dennis, shaking it in 
 the air, " and remember the helegant bits of work 
 it has turned off, I feel quite molloncholy to think 
 it should ever grow old and feeble. But sich is 
 life!" 
 
 He heaved a deep sigh as he indulged in these 
 reflections, and putting his fingers with an absent 
 air on Hugh's throat, and particularly under his left 
 ear, as if he were studying the anatomical develop- 
 ment of that part of his frame, shook his head in 
 a despondent manner, and actually shed tears. 
 
 " You're a kind of artist, I suppose — eh ? " said 
 Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 " Yes," rejoined Dennis ; " yes — I may call my- 
 self a artist — a fancy workman — art improves 
 natur' — that's my motto." 
 
 " And what do you call this ? " said Mr. Tapper- 
 tit, taking his stick out of his hand. 
 
 " That's my portrait atop," Dennis replied. " D'ye 
 think it's like ? " 
 
 " Why, it's a little too handsome," said Mr. Tap- 
 pertit. " Who did it ? You ? " 
 
 " I ! " repeated Dennis, gazing fondly on his 
 imasre. "I wish I had the talent. That was 
 carved by a friend of mine, as is now no more. 
 The very day afore he died, he cut that with his 
 pocket-knife from memory ! ' I'll die game,' says 
 my friend, ' and my last moments shall be dewoted 
 to making Dennis's picter.' That's it." 
 
 " That was a queer fancy, wasn't it ? " said Mr. 
 Tappertit. 
 
 " It tvas a queer fancy," rejoined the other, 
 breathing on his fictitious nose, and polishing it 
 vol. I.-29.
 
 450 BAKNABY RUDGE. 
 
 with the cuff of his coat, "but he was a queer sub- 
 ject altogether — a kind of gypsy — one of the finest, 
 stand-up men you ever see. Ah ! He told me some 
 things that would startle you a bit, did that friend 
 of mine, on the morning when he died." 
 
 " You were with him at the time, were you ? " 
 said Mr. Tappertit. 
 
 "Yes," he answered with a curious look, "I was 
 there. Oh yes, certainly, I was there. He 
 wouldn't have gone off half as comfortable with- 
 out me. I had been with three or four of his 
 family under the same circumstances. They were 
 all fine fellows." 
 
 "They must have been fond of you," remarked 
 Mr. Tappertit, looking at him sideways. 
 
 " I don't know that they was exactly fond of me," 
 said Dennis with a little hesitation, " but they all 
 had me near 'em when they departed. I come in 
 for their wardrobes too. This very handkecher that 
 you see round my neck belonged to him that I've 
 been speaking of — him as did that likeness." 
 
 Mr. Tappertit glanced at the article referred to, 
 and appeared to think that the deceased's ideas of 
 dress were of a peculiar and by no means an expen- 
 sive kind. He made no remark upon the point, 
 however, and suffered his mysterious companion to 
 proceed without interruption. 
 
 "These smalls," said Dennis, rubbing his legs; 
 " these very smalls — they belonged to a friend of 
 mine that's left off sich encumbrances forever : this 
 coat too — I've often walked behind this coat in the 
 streets, and wondered whether it would ever come 
 to me : this pair of shoes have danced a hornpipe 
 for another man, afore my eyes, full half a dozen
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 451 
 
 times at least : and as to my hat," he said, taking it 
 off, and whirling it round upon his fist — " Lord ! 
 I've seen this hat go up Holborn on the box of a 
 hackney coach — ah, many and many a day ! " 
 
 " You don't mean to say their old wearers are all 
 dead, I hope ? " said Mr. Tappertit, falling a little 
 distance from him as he spoke. 
 
 "Every one of 'em," replied Dennis. "Every 
 man Jack ! " 
 
 There was something so very ghastly in this cir- 
 cumstance, and it appeared to account, in such a 
 very strange and dismal manner, for his faded dress 
 — which, in this new aspect, seemed discolored by 
 the earth from graves — that Mr. Tappertit abruptly 
 found he was going another way, and, stopping short, 
 bade him good-night with the utmost heartiness. 
 As they happened to be near the Old Bailey, and 
 Mr. Dennis knew there were turnke3 T s in the lodge 
 with whom he could pass the night, and discuss 
 professional subjects of common interest among 
 them before a rousing fire, and over a social glass, 
 he separated from his companions without any great 
 regret, and warmly shaking hands with Hugh, and 
 making an early appointment for their meeting at 
 The Boot, left them to pursue their road. 
 
 " That's a strange sort of man," said Mr. Tapper- 
 tit, watching the hackney coachman's hat as it went 
 bobbing down the street. " I don't know what to 
 make of him. Why can't he have his smalls made 
 to order, or wear live clothes at any rate ? " 
 
 "He's a lucky man, captain," cried Hugh. "I 
 should like to have such friends as his." 
 
 " I hope he don't get 'em to make their wills, and 
 then knock 'em on the head," said Mr. Tappertit,
 
 452 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 musing. "But come. The United B.'s expect me. 
 On ! — What's the matter ? " 
 
 "I quite forgot," said Hugh, who had started at 
 the striking of a neighboring clock. " I have some- 
 body to see to-night — I must turn back directly. 
 The drinking and singing put it out of my head. 
 It's well I remembered it ! " 
 
 Mr. Tappertit looked at him as though he were 
 about to give utterance to some very majestic senti- 
 ments in reference to this act of desertion, but as it 
 was clear from Hugh's hasty manner that the en- 
 gagement was one of a pressing nature, he graciously 
 forbore, and gave him his permission to depart im- 
 mediately, which Hugh acknowledged with a roar 
 of laughter. 
 
 " Good-night, captain!" he cried. "I am yours 
 to the death, remember ! " 
 
 " Farewell ! " said Mr. Tappertit, waving his hand. 
 " Be bold and vigilant ! " 
 
 " No Popery, captain ! " roared Hugh. 
 
 "England in blood first!" cried his desperate 
 leader. Whereat Hugh cheered and laughed, and 
 ran off like a greyhound. 
 
 " That man will prove a credit to my corps," said 
 Simon, turning thoughtfully upon his heel. " And 
 let me see. In an altered state of society — which 
 must ensue if we break out and are victorious — 
 when the locksmith's child is mine, Miggs must be 
 got rid of somehow, or she'll poison the tea-kettle 
 one evening when I'm out. He might marry Miggs 
 if he was drunk enough. It shall be done. I'll 
 make a note of it."
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Little thinking of the plan for his happy settle- 
 ment in life which had suggested itself to the teem- 
 ing brain of his provident commander, Hugh made 
 no pause until St. Dunstan's giants struck the hour 
 above him, when he worked the handle of a pump 
 which stood hard by with great vigor, and thrusting 
 his head under the spout, let the water gush upon him 
 until a little stream ran down from every uncombed 
 hair, and he was wet to the waist. Considerably 
 refreshed by this ablution, both in mind and body, 
 and almost sobered for the time, he dried himself as 
 he best could ; then crossed the road, and plied the 
 knocker of the Middle Temple gate. 
 
 The night porter looked through a small grating 
 in the portal with a surly eye, and cried " Halloa ! " 
 which greeting Hugh returned in kind, and bade 
 him open quickly. 
 
 " We don't sell beer here," cried the man. " What 
 else do you want ? " 
 
 " To come in," Hugh replied with a kick at the 
 door. 
 
 " Where to go to ? " 
 
 "Paper Buildings." 
 
 " Whose chambers ? " 
 
 " Sir John Chester's." Each of which answers he 
 emphasized with another kick. 
 
 453
 
 454 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 After a little growling on the other side, the gate 
 was opened, and he passed in : undergoing a close 
 inspection from the porter as he did so. 
 
 " You wanting Sir John at this time of night ! " 
 said the man. 
 
 " Ay ! " said Hugh. " I ! What of that ? " 
 
 " Why, I must go with you, and see that you do, 
 for I don't believe it." 
 
 "Come along, then." 
 
 Eying him with suspicious looks, the man, with 
 key and lantern, walked on at his side, and attended 
 him to Sir John Chester's door, at which Hugh gave 
 one knock, that echoed through the dark staircase 
 like a ghostly summons, and made the dull light 
 tremble in the drowsy lamp. 
 
 " Do you think he knows me now ? " said Hugh. 
 
 Before the man had time to answer, a footstep 
 was heard within, a light appeared, and Sir John, in 
 his dressing-gown and slippers, opened the door. 
 
 " I ask your pardon, Sir John," said the porter, 
 pulling off his hat. " Here's a young man says he 
 wants to speak to you. It's late for strangers. I 
 thought it best to see that all was right." 
 
 " Aha ! " cried Sir John, raising his eyebrows. 
 "It's you, messenger, is it? Go in. Quite right, 
 friend, I commend your prudence highly. Thank 
 you. God bless you. Good-night." 
 
 To be commended, thanked, God-blessed, and bade 
 good-night by one who carried "Sir" before his name, 
 and wrote himself M.F. to boot, was something for 
 a porter. He withdrew with much humility and 
 reverence. Sir John followed his late visitor into 
 the dressing-room, and sitting in his easy-chair be- 
 fore the fire, and moving it so that he could see him
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 455 
 
 as he stood, hat in hand, beside the door, looked at 
 him from head to foot. 
 
 The old face, calm and pleasant as ever ; the com- 
 plexion, quite juvenile in its bloom and clearness ; 
 the same smile ; the wonted precision and elegance 
 of dress ; the white, well-ordered teeth ; the delicate 
 hands ; the composed and quiet manner ; everything 
 as it used to be : no marks of age or passion, envy, 
 hate, or discontent : all unruffled and serene, and 
 quite delightful to behold. 
 
 He wrote himself M.P. — but how? Why thus. 
 It was a proud family — more proud, indeed, than 
 wealthy. He had stood in danger of arrest; of 
 bailiffs, and a jail — a vulgar jail, to which the 
 common people with small incomes w r ent. Gentle- 
 men of ancient houses have no privilege of exemp- 
 tion from such cruel laws — unless they are of one 
 great house, and then they have. A proud man of 
 his stock and kindred had the means of sending him 
 there. He offered — not indeed to pay his debts, 
 but to let him sit for a close borough until his own 
 son came of age, which, if he lived, would come to 
 pass in twenty years. It was quite as good as an 
 Insolvent Act, and infinitely more genteel. So Sir 
 John Chester was a member of Parliament. 
 
 But how Sir John ? Nothing so simple, or so 
 easy. One touch with a sword of state, and the 
 transformation is effected. John Chester, Esquire, 
 M.P., attended court — went up with an address — 
 headed a deputation. Such elegance of manner, so 
 many graces of deportment, such powers of conver- 
 sation, could never pass unnoticed. Mr. was too 
 common for such merit. A man so gentlemanly 
 should have been — but Fortune is capricious —
 
 456 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 born a Duke : just as some dukes should have been 
 born laborers. He caught the fancy of the king, 
 knelt down a grub, and rose a butterfly. John 
 Chester, Esquire, was knighted, and became Sir 
 John. 
 
 " I thought when you left me this evening, my 
 esteemed acquaintance," said Sir John after a pretty 
 long silence, "that you intended to return with all 
 despatch ? " 
 
 " So I did, master." 
 
 " And so you have ? " he retorted, glancing at his 
 watch. " Is that what you would say ? " 
 
 Instead of replying, Hugh changed the leg on 
 which he leant, shuffled his cap from one hand to 
 the other, looked at the ground, the wall, the ceil- 
 ing, and finally at Sir John himself ; before whose 
 pleasant face he lowered his eyes again, and fixed 
 them on the floor. 
 
 " And how have you been employing yourself in 
 the mean while ? " quoth Sir John, lazily crossing 
 his legs. " Where have you been ? what harm have 
 you been doing ? " 
 
 " ISTo harm at all, master," growled Hugh with 
 humility. " I have only done as you ordered." 
 
 " As I what ? " returned Sir John. 
 
 "Well then," said Hugh uneasily, "as you ad- 
 vised, or said I ought, or said I might, or said that 
 you would do, if you were me. Don't be so hard 
 upon me, master." 
 
 Something like an expression of triumph in the 
 perfect control he had established over this rough 
 instrument appeared in the knight's face for an in- 
 stant ; but it vanished directly as he said — paring 
 his nails while speaking, —
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 457 
 
 "When you say I ordered you, my good fellow, 
 you imply that I directed you to do something for 
 me — something I wanted done — something for my 
 own ends and purposes — you see? Now, I am 
 sure I needn't enlarge upon the extreme absurdity 
 of such an idea, however unintentional ; so, please " 
 — and here he turned his eyes upon him — " to be 
 more guarded. Will you ? " 
 
 "I meant to give you no offence," said Hugh. 
 " I don't know what to say. You catch me up so 
 very short." 
 
 " You will be caught up much shorter, my good 
 friend — infinitely shorter — one of these days, 
 depend upon it," replied his patron calmly. "By 
 the by, instead of wondering why you have been 
 so long, my wonder should be why you came at all. 
 Why did you ? " 
 
 " You know, master," said Hugh, " that I couldn't 
 read the bill I found, and that, supposing it to be 
 something particular from the way it was wrapped 
 up, I brought it here." 
 
 " And could you ask no one else to read it, 
 Bruin ? " said Sir John. 
 
 " No one that I could trust with secrets, master. 
 Since Barnaby Rudge was lost sight of for good and 
 all — and that's five year ago — I haven't talked 
 with any one but you." 
 
 " You have done me honor, I am sure." 
 
 " I have come to and fro, master, all through that 
 time, when there was anything to tell, because I 
 knew that you'd be angry with me if I staid 
 away," said Hugh, blurting the words out, after an 
 embarrassed silence ; " and because I wished to 
 please you, if I could, and not to have you go against
 
 458 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 me. There. That's the true reason why I came to- 
 night. You know that, master, I am sure." 
 
 " You are a specious fellow," returned Sir John, 
 fixing his eyes upon him, "and carry two faces 
 under your hood, as well as the best. Didn't you 
 give me in this room, this evening, any other reason ; 
 no dislike of anybody who has slighted you, lately, 
 on all occasions, abused you, treated you with rude- 
 ness ; acted towards you more as if you were a mon- 
 grel dog than a man like himself ? " 
 
 " To be sure I did ! " cried Hugh, his passion ris- 
 ing, as the other meant it should ; " and I say it all 
 over now again. I'd do anything to have some 
 revenge on him — anything. And when you told 
 me that he and all the Catholics would suffer from 
 those who joined together under that handbill, I 
 said I'd make one of 'em, if their master was the 
 devil himself. I am one of 'em. See whether I am 
 as good as my word, and turn out to be among the 
 foremost, or no. I mayn't have much head, master, 
 but I've head enough to remember those that use 
 me ill. You shall see, and so shall he, and so shall 
 hundreds more, how my spirit backs me when the 
 time comes. My bark is nothing to my bite. Some 
 that I know had better have a wild lion anions: 'em 
 than me, when I am fairly loose — they had ! " 
 
 The knight looked at him with a smile of far 
 deeper meaning than ordinary ; and pointing to the 
 old cupboard, followed him with his eyes while he 
 filled and drank a glass of liquor : and smiled when 
 his back was turned, with deeper meaning yet. 
 
 " You are in a blustering mood, my friend," he 
 said when Hugh confronted him again. 
 
 "Hot I, master ! " cried Hugh. "I don't say half
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 459 
 
 I mean. I can't. I haven't got the gift. There 
 are talkers enough among us ! I'll be one of the 
 doers." 
 
 " Oh ! you have joined those fellows then ? " said 
 Sir John with an air of most profound indifference. 
 
 " Yes. I went up to the house you told me of, 
 and got put down upon the muster. There was 
 another man there named Dennis — " 
 
 " Dennis, eh ? " cried Sir John, laughing. " Ay, 
 ay ! a pleasant fellow, I believe ? " 
 
 " A roaring dog, master — one after my own heart 
 
 — hot upon the matter too — red-hot." 
 
 " So I have heard," replied Sir John carelessly. 
 " You don't happen to know his trade, do you ? " 
 
 "He wouldn't say," cried Hugh. "He keeps it 
 secret." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " laughed Sir John. " A strange fancy 
 
 — a weakness with some persons — you'll know it 
 one day, I dare swear." 
 
 " We're intimate already," said Hugh. 
 
 " Quite natural ! And have been drinking to- 
 gether, eh ? " pursued Sir John. " Did you say 
 what place you went to in company, when you left 
 Lord George's ? " 
 
 Hugh had not said, or thought of saying, but he 
 told him ; and this inquiry being followed by a long 
 train of questions, he related all that had passed 
 both in and out of doors, the kind of people he had 
 seen, their numbers, state of feeling, mode of con- 
 versation, apparent expectations, and intentions. 
 His questioning was so artfully contrived, that he 
 seemed even in his own eyes to volunteer all this 
 information rather than to have it wrested from 
 him ; and he was brought to this state of feeling so
 
 460 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 naturally, that when Mr. Chester yawned at length, 
 and declared himself quite wearied out, he made a 
 rough kind of excuse for having talked so much. 
 
 " There — get you gone," said Sir John, holding 
 the door open in his hand. " You have made a 
 pretty evening's work. I told you not to do this. 
 You may get into trouble. You'll have an opportu- 
 nity of revenging yourself on your proud friend 
 Haredale, though, and for that you'd hazard any- 
 thing, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I would," retorted Hugh, stopping in his passage 
 out and looking back ; " but what do I risk ? What 
 do I stand a chance of losing, master ? Friends, 
 home ? A fig for 'em all ; I have none ; they are 
 nothing to me. Give me a good scuffle ; let me pay 
 off old scores in a bold riot where there are men to 
 stand by me ; and then use me as you like — it don't 
 matter much to me what the end is ! " 
 
 " What have you done with that paper ? " said 
 Sir John. 
 
 " I have it here, master." 
 
 " Drop it again as you go along ; it's as well not 
 to keep such things about you." 
 
 Hugh nodded, and touching his cap with an air of 
 as much respect as he could summon up, departed. 
 
 Sir John, fastening the doors behind him, went 
 back to his dressing-room, and sat down once again 
 before the fire, at which he gazed for a long time, 
 in earnest meditation. 
 
 " This happens fortunately," he said, breaking into 
 a smile, "and promises well. Let me see. My 
 relative and I, who are the most Protestant fellows 
 in the world, give our worst wishes to the Roman 
 Catholic cause ; and to Saville, who introduces their
 
 BAENABY BUDGE. 461 
 
 bill, I have a personal objection besides ; but as each 
 of us has himself for the first article in his creed, 
 we cannot commit ourselves by joining with a very 
 extravagant madman, such as this Gordon most 
 undoubtedly is. Now, really, to foment his disturb- 
 ances in secret, through the medium of such a very 
 apt instrument as my savage friend here, may further 
 our real ends ; and to express at all becoming sea- 
 sons, in moderate and polite terms, a disapprobation 
 of his proceedings, though we agree with him in 
 principle, will certainly be to gain a character for 
 honesty and uprightness of purpose, which cannot 
 fail to do us infinite service, and to raise us into 
 some importance. Good ! So much for public 
 grounds. As to private considerations, I confess 
 that if these vagabonds would make some riotous 
 demonstration (which does not appear impossible), 
 and wotdd inflict some little chastisement on Hare- 
 dale as a not inactive man among his sect, it would be 
 extremely agreeable to my feelings, and would amuse 
 me beyond measure. Good again ! Perhaps better ! " 
 
 "When he came to this point, he took a pinch of 
 snuff; then beginning slowly to undress, he resumed 
 his meditations by saying with a smile, — 
 
 " I fear, I do fear exceedingly, that my friend is 
 following fast in the footsteps of his mother. His 
 intimacy with Mr. Dennis is very ominous. But I 
 have no doubt he must have come to that end any- 
 way. If I lend him a helping hand, the only differ- 
 ence is, that he may, upon the whole, possibly drink 
 a few gallons, or puncheons, or hogsheads, less in 
 this life than he otherwise would. It's no business 
 of mine. It's a matter of very small importance ! " 
 
 So he took another pinch of snuff, and went to bed.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 From the workshop of the Golden Key there 
 issued forth a tinkling sound, so merry and good- 
 humored, that it suggested the idea of some one 
 working blithely, and made quite pleasant music. 
 No man who hammered on at a dull monotonous 
 duty could have brought such cheerful notes from 
 steel and iron ; none but a chirping, healthy, honest- 
 hearted fellow, who made the best of everything, 
 and felt kindly towards everybody, could have done 
 it for an instant. He might have been a copper- 
 smith, and still been musical. If he had sat in a 
 jolting wagon, full of rods of iron, it seemed as if 
 he would have brought some harmony out of it. 
 
 Tink, tink, tink — clear as a silver bell, and audi- 
 ble at every pause of the streets' harsher noises, as 
 though it said, " I don't care ; nothing puts me out ; 
 I am resolved to be happy." Women scolded, 
 children squalled, heavy carts went rumbling by, 
 horrible cries proceeded from the lungs of hawkers ; 
 still it struck in again, no higher, no lower, no 
 louder, no softer ; not thrusting itself on people's 
 notice a bit the more for having been outdone by 
 louder sounds — tink, tink, tink, tink, tink. 
 
 It was a perfect embodiment of the still small 
 voice, free from all cold, hoarseness, huskiness, or 
 
 462
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 463 
 
 unhealthiness of any kind ; foot-passengers slackened 
 their pace, and were disposed to linger near it ; 
 neighbors who had got up splenetic that morning, 
 felt good humor stealing on them as they heard it, 
 and by degrees became quite sprightly ; mothers 
 danced their babies to its ringing ; still the same 
 magical tink, tink, tink, came gayly from the work- 
 shop of the Golden Key. 
 
 Who but the locksmith could have made such 
 music ? A gleam of sun shining through the un- 
 sashed window, and checkering the dark workshop 
 with a broad patch of light, fell full upon him, as 
 though attracted by his sunny heart. There he 
 stood working at his anvil, his face all radiant with 
 exercise and gladness, his sleeves turned up, his wig 
 pushed off his shining forehead — the easiest, freest, 
 happiest man in all the world. Beside him sat a 
 sleek cat, purring and winking in the light, and fall- 
 ing every now and then into an idle doze, as from 
 excess of comfort. Toby looked on from a tall 
 bench hard by ; one beaming smile, from his broad 
 nut-brown face down to the slack-baked buckles on 
 his shoes. The very locks that hung around had 
 something jovial in their rust, and seemed, like 
 gouty gentlemen of hearty natures, disposed to joke 
 on their infirmities. There was nothing surly or 
 severe in the whole scene. It seemed impossible 
 that any one of the innumerable keys could fit a 
 churlish strong-box or a prison door. Cellars of 
 beer and wine, rooms where there were fires, books, 
 gossip, and cheering laughter — these were their 
 proper sphere of action. Places of distrust and 
 cruelty, and restraint, they would have left quadru- 
 ple locked forever.
 
 464 BARNABY BUDGE. 
 
 Tink, tink, tink. The locksmith paused at last, 
 and wiped his brow. The silence roused the cat, 
 who, jumping softly down, crept to the door, and 
 watched with tiger eyes a bird-cage in an opposite 
 window. Gabriel lifted Toby to his mouth and took 
 a hearty draught. 
 
 Then, as he stood upright, with his head flung 
 back, and his portly chest thrown out, you would 
 have seen that Gabriel's lower man was clothed in 
 military gear. Glancing at the wall beyond, there 
 might have been espied, hanging on their several 
 pegs, a cap and feather, broad-sword, sash, and coat 
 of scarlet ; which any man learned in such matters 
 would have known, from their make and pattern, to 
 be the uniform of a sergeant in the Koyal East 
 London Volunteers. 
 
 As the locksmith put his mug down, empty, on 
 the bench, whence it had smiled on him before, he 
 glanced at these articles with a laughing eye, and 
 looking at them with his head a little on one side, 
 as though he would get them all into a focus, said, 
 leaning on his hammer, — 
 
 " Time was, now, I remember, when I was like to 
 run mad with the desire to wear a coat of that 
 color. If any one (except my father) had called me 
 a fool for my pains, how I should have fired and 
 fumed ! But what a fool I must have been, 
 sure-ly ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " sighed Mrs. Varden, who had entered un- 
 observed. " A fool indeed. A man at your time of 
 life, Varden, should know better now." 
 
 " Why, what a ridiculous woman you are, Mar- 
 tha ! " said the locksmith, turning round with a 
 smile.
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 465 
 
 " Certainly," returned Mrs. V. with great demure- 
 ness. " Of course I am. I know that, Varden. 
 Thank you." 
 
 " I mean — " began the locksmith. 
 
 " Yes," said his wife, " I know what you mean. 
 You speak quite plain enough to be understood, 
 Varden. It's very kind of you to adapt yourself to 
 my capacity, I am sure." 
 
 "Tut, tut, Martha," rejoined the locksmith; 
 u don't take offence at nothing. I mean, how strange 
 it is of you to run down volunteering, when it's 
 done to defend you and all the other women, and 
 our own fireside and everybody else's, in case of 
 need ! " 
 
 " It's unchristian," cried Mrs. Varden, shaking her 
 head. 
 
 " Unchristian ! " said the locksmith. " Why, 
 what the devil — " 
 
 Mrs. Varden looked at the ceiling, as in expecta- 
 tion that the consequence of this profanity would be 
 the immediate descent of the four-post bedstead on 
 the second floor, together with the best sitting- 
 room on the first ; but no visible judgment occur- 
 ring, she heaved a deep sigh, and begged her hus- 
 band, in a tone of resignation, to go on, and by all 
 means to blaspheme as much as possible, because 
 he knew she liked it. 
 
 The locksmith did for a moment seem disposed to 
 gratif} r her, but he gave a great gulp, and mildly 
 rejoined, — 
 
 " I was going to say, what on earth do you call it 
 unchristian for ? Which would be most unchristian, 
 Martha — to sit quietly down and let our houses be 
 sacked by a foreign army, or to turn out like men 
 
 VOL. I.-30.
 
 466 BAKNABY KUDGE. 
 
 and drive 'em off ? Shouldn't I be a nice sort of a 
 Christian if I crept into a corner of my own chim- 
 ney, and looked on while a parcel of whiskered 
 savages bore off Dolly — or you ? " 
 
 When he said " or you," Mrs. Varden, despite 
 herself, relaxed into a smile. There was something 
 complimentary in the idea. "In such a state of 
 things as that, indeed — " she simpered. 
 
 " As that ! " repeated the locksmith. " Well, that 
 would be the state of things directly. Even Miggs 
 would go. Some black tambourine-player, with a 
 great turban on, would be bearing her off, and, unless 
 the tambourine-player was proof against kicking and 
 scratching, it's my belief he'd have the worst of it. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! I'd forgive the tambourine-player. I 
 wouldn't have him interfered with on any account, 
 poor fellow." And here the locksmith laughed 
 again so heartily, that tears came into his eyes — 
 much to Mrs. Varden's indignation, who thought the 
 capture of so sound a Protestant and estimable a 
 private character as Miggs, by a pagan negro, a cir- 
 cumstance too shocking and awful for contemplation. 
 
 The picture Gabriel had drawn, indeed, threatened 
 serious consequences, and would indubitably have 
 led to them, but luckily at that moment a light 
 footstep crossed the threshold, and Dolly, running 
 in, threw her arms around her old father's neck and 
 hugged him tight. 
 
 " Here she is at last ! " cried Gabriel. " And how 
 well you look, Doll, and how late you are, my dar- 
 ling ! " 
 
 How well she looked ? Well ? Why, if he had 
 exhausted every laudatory adjective in the diction- 
 ary, it wouldn't have been praise enough. When
 
 BARNABY RUDGE. 467 
 
 and where was there ever such a plump, roguish, 
 comely, bright-eyed, enticing, bewitching, captivat- 
 ing, maddening little puss in all this world as 
 Dolly ? What was the Dolly of five years ago to 
 the Dolly of that day ? How many coachmakers, 
 saddlers, cabinet-makers, and professors of other 
 useful arts, had deserted their fathers, mothers, 
 sisters, brothers, and, most of all, their cousins, for 
 the love of her ! How many unknown gentlemen — 
 supposed to be of mighty fortunes, if not titles — 
 had waited round the corner after dark, and tempted 
 Miggs the incorruptible with golden guineas, to de- 
 liver offers of marriage folded up in love-letters ! 
 How many disconsolate fathers and substantial 
 tradesmen had waited on the locksmith for the same 
 purpose, with dismal tales of how their sons had 
 lost their appetites, and taken to shut themselves 
 up in dark bedrooms, and wandering in desolate 
 suburbs with pale faces, and all because of Dolly 
 Varden's loveliness and cruelty ! How many young 
 men, in all previous times of unprecedented steadi- 
 ness, had turned suddenly wild and wicked for the 
 same reason, and, in an ecstasy of unrequited love, 
 taken to wrench off door-knockers, and invert the 
 boxes of rheumatic watchmen ! How had she re- 
 cruited the king's service, both by sea and land, 
 through rendering desperate his loving subjects be- 
 tween the ages of eighteen and twenty-five ! How 
 many young ladies had publicly professed, with 
 tears in their eyes, that for their tastes she was 
 much too short, too tall, too bold, too cold, too stout, 
 too thin, too fair, too dark — too everything but 
 handsome ! How many old ladies, taking counsel 
 together, had thanked Heaven their daughters were
 
 468 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 not like her, and had hoped she might come to no 
 harm, and had thought she would come to no good, 
 and had wondered what people saw in her, and had 
 arrived at the conclusion that she was " going off " 
 in her looks, or had never come on in them, and that 
 she was a thorough imposition and a popular mis- 
 take ! 
 
 And yet here was this same Dolly Varden, so 
 whimsical and hard to please that she was Dolly 
 Varden still, all smiles and dimples, and pleasant 
 looks, and caring no more for the fifty or sixty young 
 fellows who at that very moment were breaking 
 their hearts to marry her, than if so many oysters 
 had been crossed in love and opened afterwards. 
 
 Dolly hugged her father, as has been already 
 stated, and having hugged her mother also, accom- 
 panied both into the little parlor, where the cloth 
 was already laid for dinner, and where Miss Miggs 
 — a trifle more rigid and bony than of yore — 
 received her with a sort of hysterical gasp, intended 
 for a smile. Into the hands of that young virgin 
 she delivered her bonnet and walking-dress (all of a 
 dreadful, artful, and designing kind), and then said 
 with a laugh, which rivalled the locksmith's music, 
 " How glad I always am to be at home again ! " 
 
 "And how glad we always are, Doll," said her 
 father, putting back the dark hair from her spark- 
 ling eyes, "to have you at home ! Give me a kiss." 
 
 If there had been anybody of the male kind there 
 to see her do it — but there was not — it was a 
 mercy. 
 
 " I don't like your being at the Warren," said the 
 locksmith; "I can't bear to have you out of my 
 sight. And what is the news over yonder, Doll ? "
 
 BABNABY RTJDGE. 469 
 
 " What news there is, I think yon know already," 
 replied his daughter. " I am sure you do, though." 
 
 " Ay ? " cried the locksmith. " What's that ? " 
 
 " Come, come," said Dolly, " you know very well. 
 I want you to tell me why Mr. Haredale — oh, how 
 gruff he is again, to be sure ! — has been away from 
 home for some days past, and why he is travelling 
 about (we know he is travelling because of his letters) 
 without telling his own niece why or wherefore." 
 
 " Miss Emma doesn't want to know, I'll swear," 
 returned the locksmith. 
 
 " I don't know that," said Dolly ; " but / do, at 
 any rate. Do tell me. Why is he so secret, and 
 what is this ghost story, which nobody is to tell Miss 
 Emma, and which seems to be mixed up with his 
 going away ? Now I see you know by your color- 
 ing so." 
 
 " What the story means, or is, or has to do with 
 it, I know no more than you, my dear," returned the 
 locksmith, " except that it's some foolish fear of lit- 
 tle Solomon's — which has, indeed, no meaning in 
 it, I suppose. As to Mr. Haredale's journey, he goes, 
 as I believe — " 
 
 " Yes," said Dolly. 
 
 " As I believe," resumed the locksmith, pinching 
 her cheek, " on business, Doll. What it may be is 
 quite another matter. Read Blue Beard, and don't 
 be too curious, pet; it's no business of yours or 
 mine, depend upon that ; and here's dinner, which 
 is much more to the purpose." 
 
 Dolly might have remonstrated against this sum- 
 mary dismissal of the subject, notwithstanding the 
 appearance of dinner, but at the mention of Blue 
 Beard Mrs. Varden interposed, protesting she could
 
 470 BARNABY RUDGE. 
 
 not find it in her conscience to sit tamely by, 
 and hear her child recommended to peruse the ad- 
 ventures of a Turk and Mussulman — far less of a 
 fabulous Turk, which she considered that potentate 
 to be. She held that in such stirring and tremen- 
 dous times as those in which they lived, it would be 
 much more to the purpose if Dolly became a regu- 
 lar subscriber to The Thunderer, where she would 
 have an opportunity of reading Lord George Gor- 
 don's speeches word for word, which would be a 
 greater comfort and solace to her than a hundred 
 and fifty Blue Beards ever could impart. She 
 appealed, in support of this proposition, to Miss 
 Miggs, then in waiting, Avho said that indeed the 
 peace of mind she had derived from the perusal of 
 that paper generally, but especially of one article 
 of the very last week as ever was, entitled " Great 
 Britain drenched in gore," exceeded all belief ; the 
 same composition, she added, had also wrought such 
 a comforting effect on the mind of a married sister 
 of hers, then resident at Golden Lion Court, num- 
 ber twenty-sivin, second bell-handle on the right- 
 hand doorpost, that, being in a delicate state of 
 health, and, in fact, expecting an addition to her 
 family, she had been seized with fits directly after 
 its perusal, and had raved of the inquisition ever 
 since ; to the great improvement of her husband 
 and friends. Miss Miggs went on to say that she 
 would recommend all those whose hearts were hard- 
 ened to hear Lord George themselves, whom she 
 commended first, in respect of his steady Protes- 
 tantism, then of his oratory, then of his eyes, then 
 of his nose, then of his legs, and lastly of his figure 
 generally, which she looked upon as fit for any statue,
 
 BABNABY BUDGE. 471 
 
 prince, or angel, to which sentiment Mrs. Varden 
 fully subscribed. 
 
 Mrs. Varden having cut in, looked at a box upon 
 the mantelshelf, painted in imitation of a very red 
 brick dwelling-house, with a yellow roof ; having at 
 top a real chimney, down which voluntary subscrib- 
 ers dropped their silver, gold, or pence, into the 
 parlor ; and on the door the counterfeit presentment 
 of a brass plate, whereon was legibly inscribed 
 " Protestant Association : " — and looking at it, said 
 that it was to her a source of poignant misery to 
 think that Varden never had, of all his substance, 
 dropped anything into that temple, save once in 
 secret — as she afterwards discovered — two frag- 
 ments of tobacco-pipe, which she hoped would not 
 be put down to his last account. That Dolly, she 
 was grieved to say, was no less backward in her 
 contributions, better loving, as it seemed, to purchase 
 ribbons and such gauds than to encourage the great 
 cause, then in such heavy tribulation ; and that she 
 did entreat her (her father she much feared could 
 not be moved) not to despise, but imitate, the bright 
 example of Miss Miggs, who flung her wages, as it 
 were, into the very countenance of the Pope, and 
 bruised his features with her quarter's money. 
 
 " Oh, mim," said Miggs, " don't relude to that. I 
 had no intentions, mim, that nobody should know. 
 Such sacrifices as I can make are quite a widder's 
 mite. It's all I have," cried Miggs with a great 
 burst of tears — for with her they never came on by 
 degrees — " but it's made up to me in other ways ; 
 it's well made up." 
 
 This was quite true, though not perhaps in the 
 sense that Miggs intended. As she never failed to
 
 472 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 keep her self-denial full in Mrs. Varden's view, it 
 drew forth so many gifts of caps and gowns and 
 other articles of dress, that upon the whole the red- 
 brick house was perhaps the best investment for her 
 small capital she could possibly have hit upon ; 
 returning her interest at the rate of seven or eight 
 per cent in money, and fifty at least in personal 
 repute and credit. 
 
 "You needn't cry, Miggs," said Mrs. Varden, her- 
 self in tears ; "you needn't be ashamed of it, though 
 your poor mistress is on the same side." 
 
 Miggs howled at this remark in a peculiarly dis- 
 mal way, and said she knowed that master hated 
 her. That it was a dreadful thing to live in fami- 
 lies and have dislikes, and not give satisfactions. 
 That to make divisions was a thing she could not 
 abear to think of, neither could her feelings let her 
 do it. That if it was master's wishes as she and him 
 should part, it was best they should part, and she 
 hoped he might be the happier for it, and always 
 wishes him well, and that he might find somebody 
 as would meet his dispositions. It would be a hard 
 trial, she said, to part from such a missis, but she 
 could meet any suffering when her conscience told 
 her she was in the rights, and therefore she was 
 willing even to go that lengths. She did not think, 
 she added, that she could long survive the separa- 
 tions, but, as she was hated and looked upon un- 
 pleasant, perhaps her dying as soon as possible 
 would be the best endings for all parties. With 
 this affecting conclusion, Miss Miggs shed more 
 tears, and sobbed abundantly. 
 
 " Can you bear this, Varden ? " said his wife in a 
 solemn voice, laying down her knife and fork.
 
 BARNABY RTJDGE. 473 
 
 "Why, not very -well, my dear," rejoined the lock- 
 smith, " but I try to keep my temper." 
 
 " Don't let there be words on my account, mim," 
 sobbed Miggs. " It's much the best that we should 
 part. I wouldn't stay — oh, gracious me ! — and 
 make dissensions, not for a annual gold mine, and 
 found in tea and sugar." 
 
 Lest the reader should be at any loss to discover 
 the cause of Miss Miggs's deep emotion, it may be 
 whispered apart that happening to be listening, as 
 her custom sometimes was, when Gabriel and his 
 wife conversed together, she had heard the lock- 
 smith's joke relative to the foreign black who played 
 the tambourine, and bursting with the spiteful feel- 
 ings which the taunt awoke in her fair breast, 
 exploded in the manner we have witnessed. Mat- 
 ters having now arrived at a crisis, the locksmith, 
 as usual, and for the sake of peace and quietness, 
 gave in. 
 
 " What are you crying for, girl ? " he said. 
 " What's the matter with you ? What are you talk- 
 ing about hatred for ? / don't hate you ; I don't 
 hate anybody. Dry your eyes and make yourself 
 agreeable, in Heaven's name, and let us all be happy 
 while we can." 
 
 The allied powers deeming it good generalship to 
 consider this a sufficient apology on the part of the 
 enemy, and confession of having been in the wrong, 
 did dry their eyes and take it in good part. Miss 
 Miggs observed that she bore no malice, no, not to 
 her greatest foe, whom she rather loved the more, 
 indeed, the greater persecution she sustained. Mrs. 
 Varden approved of this meek and forgiving spirit 
 in high terms, and incidentally declared, as a closing
 
 474 BABNABY BUDGE. 
 
 article of agreement, that Dolly should accompany 
 her to the Clerkenwell branch of the Association 
 that very night. This was an extraordinary instance 
 of her great prudence and policy ; having had this 
 end in view from the first, and entertaining a secret 
 misgiving that the locksmith (who was bold when 
 Dolly was in question) would object, she had backed 
 Miss Miggs up to this point, in order that she might 
 have him at a disadvantage. The manoeuvre suc- 
 ceeded so well that Gabriel only made a wry face, 
 and, with the warning he had just had fresh in his 
 mind, did not dare to say one word. 
 
 The difference ended, therefore, in Miggs being 
 presented with a gown by Mrs. Varden and half a 
 crown by Dolly, as if she had eminently distin- 
 guished herself in the paths of morality and good- 
 ness. Mrs. V., according to custom, expressed her 
 hope that Varden would take a lesson from what 
 had passed, and learn more generous conduct for the 
 time to come ; and the dinner being now cold, and 
 nobody's appetite very much improved by what had 
 passed, they went on with it, as Mrs. Varden said, 
 ''like Christians." 
 
 As there was to be a grand parade of the Royal 
 East London Volunteers that afternoon, the lock- 
 smith did no more work ; but sat down comfortably 
 with his pipe in his mouth, and his arm round his 
 pretty daughter's waist, looking lovingly on Mrs. 
 V. from time to time, and exhibiting, from the crown 
 of his head to the sole of his foot, one smiling sur- 
 face of good humor. And to be sure, when it was 
 time to dress him in his regimentals, and Dolly, 
 hanging about him in all kinds of graceful winning 
 ways, helped to button and buckle and brush him
 
 BARNABY BUDGE. 475 
 
 up, and get him into one of the tightest coats that 
 ever was made by mortal tailor, he was the proudest 
 father in all England. 
 
 " What a handy jade it is ! " said the locksmith to 
 Mrs. Varden, who stood by with folded hands — 
 rather proud of her husband too — while Miggs held 
 his cap and sword at arm's-length, as if mistrusting 
 that the latter might run some one through the body 
 of its own accord; "but never marry a soldier, Doll, 
 my dear." 
 
 Dolly didn't ask why not, or say a word, indeed, 
 but stooped her head down very low to tie his 
 sash. 
 
 " I never wear this dress," said honest Gabriel, 
 " but I think of poor Joe Willet. I loved Joe ; he 
 was always a favorite of mine. Poor Joe! — Dear 
 heart, my girl, don't tie me in so tight." 
 
 Dolly laughed — not like herself at all — the 
 strangest little laugh that could be — and held her 
 head down lower still. 
 
 " Poor Joe ! " resumed the locksmith, muttering 
 to himself ; " I always wish he had come to me. I 
 might have made it up between them if he had. 
 Ah ! old John made a great mistake in his way of 
 acting by that lad — a great mistake. — Have you 
 nearly tied that sash, my dear ? " 
 
 What an ill-made sash it was ! There it was loose 
 again and trailing on the ground. Dolly was obliged 
 to kneel clown, and recommence at the beginning. 
 
 "Never mind young Willet, Varden," said his 
 wife, frowning; "you might find some one more 
 deserving to talk about, I think." 
 
 Miss Miggs gave a great sniff to the same effect. 
 
 "Nay, Martha," cried the locksmith, "don't let
 
 476 BARXABY RUDGE. 
 
 us bear too hard upon him. If the lad is dead 
 indeed, we'll deal kindly by his memory." 
 
 " A runaway and a vagabond ! " said Mrs. Yarden. 
 
 Miss Miggs expressed her concurrence as before. 
 
 "A runaway, my dear, but not a vagabond," 
 returned the locksmith in a gentle tone. " He be- 
 haved himself well, did Joe — always — and was a 
 handsome, manly fellow. Don't call him a vaga- 
 bond, Martha." 
 
 Mrs. Varden coughed — and so did Miggs. 
 
 " He tried hard to gain your good opinion, Martha, 
 I can tell you," said the locksmith, smiling, and 
 stroking his chin. " Ah ! that he did. It seems 
 but yesterday that he followed me out to the May- 
 pole door one night, and begged me not to say how 
 like a boy they used him — say here, at home, he 
 meant, though at the time, I recollect, I didn't 
 understand. ' And how's Miss Dolly, sir ? ' says 
 Joe," pursued the locksmith, musing sorrowfully. 
 "Ah! Poor Joe!" 
 
 "Well, I declare!" cried Miggs. "Oh! Good- 
 ness gracious me ! " 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " said Gabriel, turning 
 sharply to her. 
 
 "Why, if here ain't Miss Dolly," said the hand- 
 maid, stooping down to look into her face, " a giving 
 way to floods of tears. Oh, mim ! oh, sir ! Ealy 
 it's given me such a turn," cried the susceptible 
 damsel, pressing her hand upon her side to quell 
 the palpitation of her heart, "that you might knock 
 me down with a feather." 
 
 The locksmith, after glancing at Miss Miggs as if 
 he could have wished to have a feather brought 
 straightway, looked on with a broad stare while
 
 BARNABY FvTJDGE. 477 
 
 Dolly hurried away, followed by that sympathizing 
 young woman : then, turning to his wife, stammered 
 out, " Is Dolly ill ? Have / done anything ? Is it 
 my fault ? " 
 
 " Your fault ! " cried Mrs. V. reproachfully. 
 "There — you had better make haste out." 
 
 " What have I done ? " said poor Gabriel. " It 
 was agreed that Mr. Edward's name was never to be 
 mentioned, and I have not spoken of him, have I ? " 
 
 Mrs. Varden merely replied that she had no pa- 
 tience with him, and bounced off after the other 
 two. The unfortunate locksmith wound his sash 
 about him, girded on his sword, put on his cap, 
 and walked out. 
 
 " I am not much of a dab at my exercise," he said 
 under his breath, " but I shall get into fewer scrapes 
 at that work than at this. Every man came into 
 the world for something ; my department seems to 
 be to make every woman cry without meaning it. 
 It's rather hard ! " 
 
 But he forgot it before he reached the end of the 
 street, and went on with a shining face, nodding to 
 the neighbors, and showering about his friendly 
 greetings like mild spring rain.
 
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