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BARNABY RUDGE

BY

CHARLES DICKENS.

LIBRARY

IN TWO VOLUMES.
Vol. I.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

NEW YORK^r

THOMAS Y CROWELL Sc CO.,

46 East Fourteenth St.

<LO

BERWICK & SMITH, PRINTERS, BOSTON.

PREFACE.

Q As it is Mr. Waterton's opinion that ravens are gradually
O becoming extinct in England, I offer a few words here about
mine.

The raven in this story is a compound of two great origi-
nals, 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
Hug;h Evans says of Anne Page, "good gifts," which he
improved by study and attention in a most exemplary manner.
He slept in a stable — generally on horseback — and so terri-
fied a Newfoundland 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, from before his
face. He was rapidly rising in acquirements and virtues,
when, in an evil hour, his stable was newly painted. He
observed the workmen closely, saw that they were careful of
the paint, 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 Avhite lead ; and this youthful indiscre-,
tion 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, wliich he prevailed upon the land-
lord to part with for a consideration, and sent up to me. The
first act of this Sage, was, to administer to the effects of his
predecessor, by disinterring all tlio cheese and halfpence lie

iv PEE FACE.

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 language, 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
never 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 but the cook ; to whom he was attached — but
only, I fear, as a Policeman might have been. Once, I met
him unexpectedl}', about half a mile off, walking down the
middle of the public street, attended by a pretty large crowd,
and spontaneously exhibiting the whole of his accomplish-
ments. His gravity under those trying circumstances, I
never can forget, nor the extraordinary gallantr}' with which,
refusing to be brought home, he defended 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 countless squares of glass by scraping
away the putty all round the frames, and tore up and swal-
lowed, 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,

PREFACE. V

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.

Of the story of Barxaby Rudge itself, I do not think I
can say anything here more to the purpose than the following
passages from the original Preface.

" No account of the Gordon Eiots having been to my knowl-
edge 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, inveterate, 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 prin-
cipal outrages, reference has been had to the best authorities
of that time, such as they are ; and that the account given in

vi PEE FACE.

this Tale, of all the main features of the Eiots, 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
Kegister, 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
affecting circumstances of a similar nature mentioned by Sir
Samuel Romilly, is not recorded."

That the case of Mary Jones may speak the more emphati-
cally for itself, I now subjoin it, as related by Sir William
Meredith, in a speech in Parliament, on " Frequent Execu-
tions," 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 circum-
stance not to be forgotten, that she was very young (under
nineteen), and most remarkably handsome. She went to a
linen-draper'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

PREFACE. vii

naked ; and perhaps she might have done something wrong,
for she hardly knew what she did.' The parish officers testi-
fied 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 shopkeepers in Ludgate 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.

By G. Cattermole axd H. K. Browne.

Str

The Maypole

Barnaby a:sd Grip

John Willet and his Guests
The Stranger striking Joe Willet .
Barnaby, Gabriel Varden, and the Wounded
Simon Tappertit and Dolly Varden .
Slmon Tappertit dangerous ....

Barnaby's Dream

Edward Chester, Varden, and Barnaby
Initiation of a 'prentice Knight

MiGGS on the Watch

Hugh

On the Maypole Hearth ....

The State Bed

The Warren

Mr. Haredale rebukes Young Chester .
Sir John Chester at Homk ....

Street in Old London

Barnaby AND HIS Mother ....

The Obsequious Stagg

Dolly and Miss Haredale ....
Dolly waylaid by Hugh ....
Hugh at Sir John Chester's
Sir John preparing to pay a Visit
The Widow's Farewell to Mr. Haredale
John Willet Asleep in the Bar .
Sir John Chester flatters Mrs. Varden
Miss Haredale crossing the BitiDGio .
Old Willet insults Joe before Sir John Chester

ix

Fronti

PAGE

ipiece

X

18

32

42

44

54

55

72

81

86

88

109

115

126

129

139

149

159

175

180

201

205

219

222

230

253

262

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Joe says Good-by to Dolly

Edwakd Chestlk's last Interview with his Father

SoLOMOx Daisy's Fright

John Willet and Hugh at the Warren

Lord George Gordon ....

Gashford, Hugh, and Dennis

The Boot Tavern

A Xo-POPERY Dance ....

Simon Tappertit at a Glorious Elevation

Mr. Tappertit addressing his Friends

Dolly adjusting her Father's Scarf

On the Watch .

The Greeting .

Gashford struck down

At the Cottage Door

Stagg and the Widow

Grip in the Provinces

Lord George Gordon an

Outside the Gallery

The FvIOters returning from sacking a Popish Chapel
Gashford watching for Signs of the Burning of the

Warren

Liberties are taken with John Willet' s Bar

John Willet and the Mysterious Stranger ....

In the Fire and Smoke

Barnaby captured by the Soldiers

Barnaby and Grip in Prison

D Gashford enlisting Barnaby

PAGE

273
280
288
298
305
330
334
335
339
341
362
369
373
380
389
396
406
417
427
456

466
471
476
491
500
510

iv<:^v^

BARNABY RUDGE.

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 daj'S
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 zig-zag 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 tortuous
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

VOL. I.

2 BABNABY BUDGE.

unlucky page for some neglect of duty. The matter-of-fact
and doubtful folks, of whom there were a few among the
Maypole 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 exulted as in
a victory.

AYhether these and many other stories of the like nature,
were true or untrue, the Maypole was really an old house, a
very old house, perhaps as old as it claimed to be, and per-
haps older, which will sometimes happen with houses of an
uncertain, as with ladies of a certain, age. Its windows were
old diamond-pane lattices, its floors were sunken and uneven,
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 even-
ings the more favored customers smoked and drank — ay,
and sang many a good song too, sometimes — reposing on two
grim-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 out-buildings than anybody but the landlord
could reckon up. The wheeling and circling flights of runts,
fantails, tumblers, and pouters, were perhaps not quite con-
sistent with the grave and sober character 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 resemblances to humanity. The
bricks of which it was built had originally been a deep dark

BARNABY BUDGE. 3

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, wrapt 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 for-
est, the old house, partaking of its lustre, seemed their fit
companion, and to have many good j^ears of life in him yet.

The evening with which we have to do, was neither a
summer nor an autumn one, but the twilight 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 precisely, — 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 gain-
said, 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 Providence, that any-
body who said or did or thought otherwise must be inevitably
and of necessity wrong.

Mr. Willet walked slowly up to the window, flattened his
fat nose against the cold glass, and shading his eyes that lii.s
sight might not ])e affected by the ruddy glow of the Are,
looked abroad. Then he walked slowly back to liis old seat
in the chimney-corner, ami, roin})osing himself in it with a
slight shiver, such as a man luiglit give way to and so acquire

4 BARNABY BUDGE.

an additional relish for the warm blaze, said, looking round
upon his guests, —

"It'll clear at eleven o'clock. Ko 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 questioner 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 w^aited 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 tarnished 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 discussed 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 condition of the roads. But
travel-stained though he was, he was well and even richly

'I

m

BAnNABY BUDGE. 5

attired, and without being over-dressed looked a gallant
gentleman.

Lying upon the table beside him, as he had carelessly
thrown them down, were a heavy riding- whip and a slouched
hat, the latter worn no doubt as being best suited to the in-
clemency 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 grace-
fulness 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. Willet
wandered but once, and then as if in mute inquiry whether he
had observed his silent neighbor. It was plain that John
and the young gentleman had often met before. Finding that
his look was not returned, or indeed observed by the person
to whom it was addressed, John gradually concentrated the
whole power of his eyes into one focus, and brought it to
bear upon the man in the flapped hat, at whom he came to
stare in course of time 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 o.t the
unknown customer. No wonder that a man should grow
restless 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

6 BARNABT BUDGE.

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, 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.

AVell. 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 e^^ebrows. If it
were intended to conceal or divert attention from a deep gash,
now healed into an ugly 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 stalking across the room sat down in a
corner of the chimney, which the politeness or fears of the
little clerk very readily assigned to him.

'- A highwayman ! " whispered Tom Cobb to Parkes the
ranger.

"Do you suppose highwaymen don't dress handsomer than
that ? " replied Parkes. " It's a better business than you
think for, Tom, and highwaymen don't need or use to be
shabby, take my word for it,"

BABNABT BUDGE. 7

Meahwhilej the subject of their speculations had done due
honor to the house by calling for some drink, which was
promptly supplied by the landlord'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 delib-
eration.

"Public-house, father!" exclaimed Joe, "where's the
public-house within a mile or so of the Maypole ? 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 gentleman already noticed,
who had changed his attitude when the house was first men-
tioned, replied in a lower tone, —

"The owner's name is Haredale, Mr. Geoffrey Haredale,
and — " again he glanced in the same direction as before —
" and a worthy gentleman too — hem ! "

Paying 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 foot-
path 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,

8 BARNABY BUDGE.

contriving in the course of some arrangements about the
hearth, to advance close to his questioner and pluck him by
the sleeve, "/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."

" What do you mean ? " said Joe, adding in an undertone
as he approached him again, " You'll come in for it presently,
1 know you will ! "

"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 unnaturally — 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 obvious cause
of Joe Willet's discomposure, who had risen and was adjusting
his riding-cloak preparatory to sallying abroad. Briefly reply-
ing 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, followed 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 Willet slowly shook his head, and thereupon

BAttNABY BUDGE. - 9

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 conciliatory,
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 blessed afternoon, and comfort-
ably littered down in our stable at this minute ; and he giving
up a good hot supper and our best bed, because INIiss Hare-
dale 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 whole
difference."

/' He is in love then ? " said the stranger.

" Kather," 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 an inconsiderate lad ! " murmured Tom Cobb.

"Putting himself forward and wringing the very nose off
his own father's face ! " exclaimed the parish clerk, meta-
phorically.

" 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, observing under their breaths
that that was the point.

"The proper time's no time, sir," repeated flolm Willet ;

10 - BAIiNABY BUBGE.

" when I was jowv age I never talked, I never wanted to talk.
I listened and improved myself, that's what / did."

••'And you'd find your father rather a tough customer in
argeyment, Joe, if anybody was to try and tackle him/' said
Parkes.

"For the matter o' that, Phil !" observed Mr. Willet, blow-
ing a long, thin, spiral cloud of smoke out of the corner of
his mouth, and staring at it abstractedly as it floated away ;
" For the matter o' that, Phil, argeyraent is a gift of Natur.
If Xatur 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 Xatur, 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 AYillet, 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 unbecoming and irreverent haste ; " If, sir,
Xatur 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 tough-
ness 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."

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 experiences 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

BABNABY BULGE. 11

fidgeting in his chair with divers uneasy gestures. " But if
you mean to tell me that I'm never to open my lips " —

"Silence, sir!" roared his father. "Xo, 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. j\Iy 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 ^lajesty 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 company, 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 otherwise."

"Did you ever hear tell of mermaids, sir? " said Mr. Willet.

" Certainly I have," replied the clerk.

"Very good," said jMr. Willet. "According to the consti-
tution 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 repeating to his son his command of
silence, and addressing the stranger, said, —

"If you had asked your question of a grown-up i)erson —
of me or any of these gentlemen — you'd have had some satis-
faction, 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.

12 BABNABT RUDGE.

"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 meanwhile 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 "Willet.
"Perhaps there's more meaning in them Avords 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 dovvm 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 conscious-
ness 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 whiif to keep it alight, and was evi-
dently about to tell his story without further solicitation, gath-
ered his large coat about him, and shrinking farther back was
almost lost in the gloom of the spacious chimney-corner, except
when the flame, struggling 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 mo-
ment, 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 walls, look as if it were built of
polished ebony — the wind roaring and howling without, now

BAUNABY RUDGH. 13

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. Eeuben 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 appeal-
ing to the post-office keeper; " what day of the month is this ?"

" The nineteenth."

"Of March," said the clerk, bending forward, "the nine-
teenth 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 OAvner 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 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,

14 bahnabt budge.

that clay, 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 pull-
ing 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 folloAv next day. It happened that that niglit, an old
gentleman w^ho lived at Chigwell-row, and had long been
poorly, deceased, and an order came to me at half after twelve
o'clock at niglit to go and' toll the passing-bell."

There was a movement in the little group of listeners,
sufficiently indicative of the strong repugnance 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 : —

" It ivas 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
unprepared 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 eye-
brows 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 hurricane,
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 in doors, and

BABNABT BUDGE. 15

perhaps there is only one othef 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 oeat in the little corner where the bell-rope is, sat down
beside it to trim the candle.

" 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 stor}- 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 morning. 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 pavement,
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 away, but I 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 toll-
ing of itself at midnight for the dead. I tolled my bell —

16 SARNAiST RUDGE.

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 reading 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 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 com-
mitted this day two and twent}^ 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 alwa3"S, 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."

BAIiNABY liUDGE. 17

CHAPTER 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 orna-
menting it (according to village report) with a few flourishes
suggested by the various 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 accustomed 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, whicJi 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 mar-
vellous rapidity to the copper boiler again. Xot so with Joe,
who, 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 weatlier 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

VOL. I.

18 BABNABY BUDGE.

hand and turning on his heel. " Landlord, 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 prof-
fered to him, by the application of his teeth or his tongue,
or some other test, or, in doubtful cases, by a long series of
tests terminating 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-j- ard. 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, patting 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 more
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."

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 quar-
ters 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 gal-
loped away ; dashing through the mud and darkness with a
headlong speed, which few badly mounted horsemen would
have cared to venture, even had they been thoroughly
acquainted with the country ; and which, to one who knew

J^^\

BARNABY RUDGE. 19

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 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
highwaymen, 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 proba-
bility 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 possibly
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 liorse'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 com-
motion, 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 pas-

20 BABNABY BUDGE.

sions they could no longer control. The demons of wrath
and despair have striven to emulate those who ride the
whirlwind and direct the storm; and man, lashed into mad-
ness 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 stimulated 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 narrowly 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 traveller, dis-
mounting, "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 ? "

" 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 hold-
ing the light near to his panting and reeking beast, examined

BARXABY BUDGE. 21

him in limb and carcass. Meanwhile the other man sat very
composedly in his vehicle, -which was a kind of chaise with a
depository for a large bag of tools, and watched his proceed-
ings with a careful eye.

The looker-on was a round red-faced, sturdy yeoman, with
a double chin, and a voice husky with good living, good sleep-
ing, 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 his 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. Although muffled up in divers coats and hand-
kerchiefs— 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 comfortable figure ; neither did cer-
tain 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."

" Wliat 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 tlie
instant. He suddenly dropped it and crushed it with his
foot.

22 BAENABY BUDGE.

" 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 tliese 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 defen-
sive.

" 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 chafing 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 Varden 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 locksmith.

Perhaps two men more powerfully contrasted, never opposed
each other face to face. The ruddy features of the locksmith

BABNABY BUDGE. 23

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,
hifQg there in dark and heavy drops, like dews of agony and
death. The countenance of the old locksmith was lighted up
with the smile of one expecting 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 tierce, 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
desperate 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 liave
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 minutes 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."

" From whose hand ? "

"From mine," replied the traveller.

With that he put spurs to his horse, and rode away ; at first
plashing heavily through the mire at a smart trot, but gradu-
ally increasing in speed until the last sound of his liorse's
hoofs died away upon the wind ; when he was again hurrying
on at the same furious gallop, wliich had been his pace when
the locksmith iirst encountered liim.

i¥

24 BARXABT BULGE.

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 mad-
man ? a highwayman ? a cut-throat ? If he had not scoured
off so fast, we'd have seen who was in most danger, 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, I'll be
content to be no farther from it. j\[y 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 ; murmuring in a half
whisper, —

'■The Maypole — two miles to the Maj-pole. I came the
other road from the Warren after a long day's work at locks
and bells, on purpose that I should not come by the ]Maypole
and break ray promise to Martha by looking in — there's
resolution ! It would be dangerous to go on to London with-
out a light; and it's four miles, and a good half-mile besides,
to the Halfway House ; and between this and that is the very
place where one needs a light most. Two miles to the May-
pole ! I told Martha I wouldn't ; I said I wouldn't, and I
didn't — there's resolution !"

Eepeating these two last words very often, as if to compen-
sate 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 May-
pole, 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 fragrant odor of steaming grog
and rare tobacco, all steeped as it were in the cheerful glow —

BAEXABY BUDGE. 25

when the shadows, flitting across the curtain, showed tliat
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 stream-
ing up, bespoke the goodness of the crackling log from which
a brilliant train of sparks was doubtless at that moment
whirling up the chimney in honor of his coming — wlien,
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 boisterous wind a perfume — Gabriel felt his firmness
oozing rapidly away. He tried to look stoically at the tavern,
but liis features would relax into a look of fondness. He
turned his head the other way, and tlie 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 otlier
tempting preparations for a well-cooked meal — when there
were these things, and company disposed to make the inost
of them, all ready to his hand and entre.iting him to
enjoyment !

26 BABNABY BUDGE.

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 himself, 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 afterwards, 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 lock-
smith.

" I don't," said Joe.

" jSTo ! " cried Gabriel.

" No. He struck me with his whip, the coward, 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

BABNABY BUDGE. 27

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-saying 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 tliat
when I do, it won't be me that you'll have to blame, but your
own self, and no other."

John Willet was so amazed by the exasperation and bold-
ness 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 remon-
strance than by ill-timed rebellion. This advice was received
as such advice usually is. On John Willet it made almost as
much impression 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 inten-

2^ BAENABY BUDGE.

tion 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 Gabriel.

"Nor mile-stones much," replied Joe. "I'm little 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, ^tr. Yarden."

" 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 ? "

"No, no," said Joe — finding, however, something very
engrossing to do in the way of strapping and buckling —
" Miss Dolly quite well ? "

"Hearty, thank ye. She looks pretty enough 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 buckling as afore-

BAENABY BUDGE. 29

said, — and giving the reins to the old man, who had by this
time taken his seat, sighed again and bade him good-night.

" Good-night ! " cried Gabriel. " Now think better of what
we have just been speaking of, and don't be rash, there's a
good fellow ! I have an interest in yon, and wouldn't have
you cast yourself away. Good-night ! ''

Returning 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 Yarden went his way towards London, thinking of
a great many things, and most of all of flaming terms in
which to relate his adventure, and so account satisfactorily to
Mrs. Varden for visiting the Maypole, despite certain solemn
covenants between himself and that lady. Thinking begets,
not only tliought, 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 con-
sideration of persons, things, times, and places ; and to jumble
his disjointed thoughts together in a kind of mental kaleido-
scope, producing combinations 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 uncon-
sciously, and drew nearer and nearer home. He had roused
himself once, when the horse stopped until the turnpike gate
was opened, 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 turni)ike man witli his motlier-in-law
who had been dead twenty years. It is not surprising, there-
fore, that he soon relapsed, and jogged lieavily along, quite
insensible to his progress.

And, now, he approached the great city, whicli lay out-
stretched before him like a dark shadow on the ground,

30 BABNABY BUDGE.

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
themselves. 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 market, 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 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 recognizing 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 apparently lifeless state upon
the pathway, and, hovering round him, another person with a
torch in his hand, which he waved in the air with a wild
impatience, redoubling meanwhile those cries for help which
had brought the locksmith to the spot.

" What's here to do ? " said the old man, alighting. ^' How's
this — what — Barnaby ? "

BARNABT BUDGE. 31

The bearer of the torch shook his long loose hair back
from his eyes, and tlirusting 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.

" 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 your torch this way — a little farther
off — so. Now stand quiet, while I try to see what harm is
done."

With these words, he applied himself to a closer examina-
tion 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 distinctly 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 a great profusion, was red,
and hanging in disorder about liis face ant\, shoulders, gave to
his restless looks an expression quite unearthly — enhanced
by the paleness of his complexion, and the glassy lustre of

32 BABNABT BUDGE.

his large protruding eyes. Startling as his aspect was, the
features were 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 ornamented
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 oft" 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 fainting fit."

" I know him, I know him ! " cried Barnaby, clapping 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 that are now as bright as — see, when I
talk of eyes, the stars come out ! Whose eyes are they ? If
the}^ are angels' eyes, why do they look down here and see
good men hurt, and only wink and sparkle all the night ? "

" Xow Heaven help this silly fellow," murmured the per-
plexed locksmith, " can he know this gentleman ? 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."

BAEXABT RUDGE. 33

"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 locksmith, "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, lielp
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 done, 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 terror.

This accomplished, and the wounded man being covered
with Varden's own great-coat, which he took off for the pur-
pose, they proceeded onward at a brisk pace : Barnaby gayly
counting the stars upon his fingers, and Gabriel inwardly con-
gratulating himself upon having an adventure now, which
would silence Mrs. Varden on the subject of the Maypole, for-
tliat night, or there w\as no faith in woman.

34 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER IV.

In the venerable suburb — it was a suburb once — of Clerk-
enwell, 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
vegetating 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 Whiteehapel, no assemblages of palaces in the swampy
levels, nor little cities in the open fields. Although this part
of town was then, as now, parcelled out in streets, and plenti-
fully peopled, it wore a different aspect. There were gardens
to many of the houses, and trees by the pavement side ; 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 hay-making 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.

BABNABY BUDGE. 35

In one of these streets, the cleanest of them all, and on the
shady side of the way — for good housewives know that sun-
light 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 any-
thing besides itself.

The shop — for it had a shop — was, with reference 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 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 shutter, 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
wainscotted 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
wainscotted 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 thoughtful, as weighing and
pondering in their minds whetlier tlie upper rooms were only
approachable by ladders from without ; never suspecting that
two of the most unassuming and unlikely doors in existence,
which the most ingenious mechanism on earth must of neces-
sity have supposed to be tlie doors of closets, opened out of
this room — each witliout the smallest preparation, or so much
as a quarter of an inch of passag(^ — upon two dark winiling

36 BARXABY BUDGE.

flights of stairs, the one upward, the other downward, which
were the sole means of communication between that chamber
and the other portions of the house.

With all these oddities, there Avas not a neater, more
scrupulously tidy, or more punctiliously ordered house, in
Clerkenwell, in London, in all England. There were not
cleaner windows, or whiter floors, or brighter stoves, or more
highly shining articles of furniture in old mahogany ; there
was not more rubbing, scrubbing, burnishing, and polishing, in
the whole street put together. Nor was this excellence
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 in-
clusive.

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 disconsolately at a great w^ooden
emblem of a key, painted in vivid yellow to resemble gold,
w^hich 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
distinguished anything but various tools of uncouth make and
shape, great bunches of rusty keys, fragments of iron, half
finished locks, and such like things, which garnished the Avails
and hung in clusters from the ceiling.

After a long and patient contemplation of the golden key,
and many such backward glances, Gabriel 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
eyes that ever locksmith looked upon ; the face of a pretty,
laughing girl ; dimpled and fresh, and healthful — the very
impersonation of good-humor and blooming beauty.

BAENABY BUDGE. 37

" 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 up-stairs to bed !
Come down ♦to breakfast, madcap, and come down lightly, or
you'll wake your mother. She must be tired, I am sure —
/am."

Keeping these latter words to himself, and returning 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 himself. " 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, un-
derhanded 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 locksmith.
"You needn't make any more of that confounded clatter.
Breakfast's ready."

" Sir," said Sim, looking up with amazing politeness, 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 'Pren-
tice's Garland, or the 'Prentice's Delight, or tlie 'Prentice's
Warbler, or the 'l*rentice's (Juide to the Gallows, or some

38 BAEXABY BUDGE.

such improving text-book. Now he's going to beautify him-
self— here's a precious 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, some-
thing 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 utmost gravity.
This done, he drew from some concealed 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.
Having 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.

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 holidays, 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 entertained the highest admiration ; and with
his legs, which, in knee-breeches, were perfect curiosities of
littleness, he was enraptured to a degree amounting to enthu-
siasm. 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
haughtiest 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 ]\Ir. Tappertit there was locked up an ambitious and

BARYABY RUDGE. 39

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 fame within that precious
cask, his body, until, with great foam and froth and splutter, it
would force a vent, and carry all before it. It was his custom
to remark, in reference 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 feasting 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 like-
wise reported to have said that in former times a stigma had
been cast upon the body by tlie 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 wisdom 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, Sam Tappertit
was no less of an adventurous and enterprising character.
He had been seen beyond dispute to pull off ruffles of the
finest quality at the corner of the street on Sunday nights,
and to put 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.

40 BARNABF BUDGE.

planted most conveniently 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 he 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 necessary 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
alluring 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 any-
thing to eat or drink that earth or air or water can suj^ply,
there sat, presiding over all, the locksmith's rosy daughter,
before whose dark eyes even beef grew insignificant, and malt
became as nothing.

Fathers should never kiss their daughters when young men
are by. It's too much. There are bounds to human endur-
ance. So thought Sim Tappertit 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 41

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. Eudge's ; and
she no sooner saw him than the truth came out."

" ^liss 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 at the Warren told me, sorely against her
will. What does your blockhead father when he and Mrs.
Rudge have laid their heads together, but goes there when he
ought to be abed, makes interest with his friend the door-
keeper, slips him on a mask and domino, and mixes with the
maskuers."

"And like himself to do so ! " cried the girl, putting her
fair arm round his neck, and giving him a most enthusiastic
kiss.

" Like himself ! " repeated Gabriel, affecting to grumble,
but evidently delighted with the part he had taken, and with
her praise. "Very like himself — so 3' our mother said.
However, he mingled with the crowd, and prettily worried
and badgered he was, 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 young lady 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 wliat the matter \\*as — as softly,
Doll, and with nearly as much art as you could have used
yourself — than she gives a kind of scream and faints away."

42 BAUNABY BUDGE.

" What did you do — what happened next ? " asked his
daughter.

'' Why, the masks came flocking round, with a general
noise and hubbub, and I thought myself in luck to get clear
off, that's all," rejoined the locksmith. " What happened
when I reached home you may guess, if you didn't hear it.
Ah ! Well, it's a poor heart that never rejoices — Put Toby
this way, my dear."

This Toby was the brown jug of which previous mention
has been made. Applying his lips to the worthy old gentle-
man'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
r^uctance.

Although Sim Tappertit had taken no share in this conver-
sation, no part of it being addressed to him, he had not been
wanting in such silent manifestations of astonishment, as he
deemed most compatible 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
extraordinary, hideous, and unparalleled contortions, that
Gabriel, who happened to look towards him, was stricken
with amazement.

" Why, w^hat 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. Tappertit,
rather discomfited ; not the less so because he saw the lock-
smith's daughter smiling.

" Sim," rejoined Gabriel, laughing heartily. ^' Don't be a
fool, for I'd rather see you in your senses. These young
fellows," he added, turning to his daughter, " are always

<■ _- •) ! ■ f^-r- "!

,1 ■ ' 1

r ^

BAENABY BUDGE. 43

committing some folly or another. There was a quarrel
between Joe Willet and old John last night — though I can't
say Joe was much in fault either. He'll be missing one of
these mornings, and will have gone away upon some wild-
goose errand, seeking his fortune. — Why, what's the matter,
Doll ? You are making faces now. The girls are as bad as
tlie boys every bit ! "

'' It's the tea," said Dolly turning alternately very red and
very white, which is no doubt the effect of a slight scald —
"so very hot."

Mr. Tappertit looked immensely big at a quartern loaf on
the table, and breathed hard.

" Is that all ? " returned the locksmith. ^' Put some more
milk in it. — Yes, I am sorry for Joe, because he is a likely
young fellow, and gains upon one every time one sees him.
But he'll start off, you'll find. Indeed he told me as much
himself ! "

" Indeed ! " cried Dolly in a faint voice. '^ In — deed ! "

" Is the tea tickling 3'our throat still, my dear ? " said the
locksmith.

But, before his daughter could make him any answer, she
was taken with a troublesome cough, and it was such a
very unpleasant cough that, when she left off, the tears were
starting in her bright eyes. The good-natured locksmith was
still patting her on the back and applying such gentle
restoratives, when a message arrived from Mrs. Varden,
making known to all whom it might concern, that she felt too
much indisposed to rise after her great agitation and anxiety
of the previous night ; and therefore desired to be immediately
accommodated with a 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 IVIanual in two
volumes, post octavo. Like some other ladies who in remote
ages flourished upon this globe, ^Irs. Varden was most devout
when most ill-tempered. Whenever she and her husband
were at unusual variance, then the Protestant Manual was in
liigh feather.

Knowing from experience what these requests portended,
tlie triumvirate broke up; Dolly, to see the orders executed

44 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 re-
mained behind.

Indeed the big look increased immensely, and when he had
tied his apron on, became quite gigantic. 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 fellow," 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 ; sometimes stopping to
take a glance at his legs, and sometimes to jerk out and cast
from him another " 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, dashing it
down again, " but grind. I'll grind up all the tools. Grind-
ing will suit my present humor well. Joe ! "

AVhirr-r-r-r. The grindstone was soon in motion ; the sparks
were flying off in showers. This was the occupation for his
heated spirit.

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r.

" Something will come of this ! " said Mr. Tappertit, paus-
ing 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.

BABNABY BUDGE. 45

CHAPTEE 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 recovery. 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 returning 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. Occasionally 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 ! " said the
locksmith, as he knocked softly at the widow's door. " I'd
rather be in old John's chimney 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 as})ect, 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

46 BARNABY BUDGE.

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
Avhich 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 existence in a dream.

More faintly imaged, and wanting force and purpose, as it
were, because of his darkened intellect, 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 canvas. They who knew the ^Maypole story,
and could remember what the widow was, before her hus-
band'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 fol-
lowed 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 daj^-
light, and for some hours tossed and tumbled sadly. But the

BARNABT BUDGE. 47

fever has left him, and the doctor says he will soon mend.
He must not be removed 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 minutes when you
knocked."

"No ladies?" said Gabriel, elevating his eyebrows and
looking disappointed.

" A letter," replied the widow.

"Come. That's better than nothing!" cried the lock-
smith. " Who was the bearer ? "

"Barnaby, of course."

"Barnaby's a jewel!" said Varden ; "and comes and goes
with ease where we who think ourselves much wiser would
make but a poor hand of it. He is not out wandering, again,

I hope ? "

^' Thank Heaven he is in his bed; having been up all
night, as you know, and on his feet all day. He was quite
tired out. Ah, neighbor, if I could but see him oftener so
if I could but tame down that terrible restlessness " —

" In good time," said the locksmith, kindly, " in good time

— don't be down-hearted. To my mind he grows wiser every

day."

The widow shook her head. And yet, though she knew
the locksmith sought to cheer her, and spoke from no convic-
tion of his own, she was glad to hear even this praise of her
poor benighted son.

"He will be a 'cute man yet," resumed the locksmith.
"Take care when we are growing old and foolish, Barnaby
doesn't put us to the blush, that's all. But our other friend,"
he added, looking under the table and about the floor —
"sharpest and cunningest of all the sharp and cunning ones

— Where's he ? "

"In Barnaby's room," rejoined the widow, with a faint

smile.

"Ah! He's a knowing blade!" said Varden, shaking his
head. "I should be sorry to talk secrets before him. Oh!
He's a deep customer, I've no doubt he can read, and write,

48 BARNABT BUDGE.

and cast accounts if he chooses. What was that — him tap-
ping at the door ? "

" 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 dis-
turbed his slumber. The party without, whoever it was,
could have stood close to the shutter without hearing any-
thing 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 locksmith.
" 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 relinquishing 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 association
with — whispered "Make haste."

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 difficult 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

BABNABY BUDGE. 49

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 stoo.d,
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 stream-
ing 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 liis shadow passing by
that light. What — who is this ? Let me go."

" Come back, come back ! " exclaimed the woman, clasping
him ; " Do not touch him on 3^our 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 cljair,
covered her face, and shuddered as though the hand of death
were on her.

VOL. I.

50 BARNABY BUDGE,

CHAPTER YI.

Beyond all measure astonished by the strange occurrences
which had passed with so much violence and rapidity, the
locksmith gazed upon the shuddering 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 neigh-
bor 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 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 her-
self 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 ?

BAENABY BUDGE. 51

How does he know, and why does he haunt this house, whis-
pering 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 noonday 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 you 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. — Xo ! — Do
not touch me, either."

Gabriel, who had stepped forward to render her assistance,
fell back as she made this hasty exclamation, and regarded
her in silent wonder.

"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 circum-
stance. I trust to you. Mind, I trust to you. How much I
trust, you never can conceive."

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 interpretation. 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 suffering
character, had gained the good opinion and respect of all who

52 BABNABY BUDGE.

knew her — to find her linked mysteriously with an ill-omened
man, alarmed at his appearance, and yet favoring his escape,
was a discovery that pained as much as it startled him.
Her reliance on his secrecy, and his tacit acquiescence, in-
creased his distress of mind. If he had spoken boldly, per-
sisted 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.

" Whj^ did I let her say it was a secret, and she 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 readiness than old John himself. Why
didn't I 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 sooth-
ing 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 sweet,
heart into the bargain : but what else can I do, with all thia
upon my mind ! — Is that Barnaby outside there ? "

"Ay!" he cried, looking in and nodding. "Sure enough
it's Barnaby — how did 3'ou 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, such walks, such runs, such

BARNABY BUDGE. 53

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 ? "

'^ Up-stairs. He wants you. Stay — where's his shadow ?
Come. Yoii'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 cunning, 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."

" So I have been asleep," he rejoined, with widely opened
eyes. "There have been great faces coming and going —
close to my face, and then a mile away — low places to creej)
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 liim.
"Those are not dreams."

54 BARNABY BUDGE.

" 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 coming ? "

" 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 incoherently, waved
the light above his head again, laughed, and drawing the
locksmith's arm more 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 ver}- little worth; but clean and neatly
kept. Eeclining in an easy-chair before the fire, pale and
weak from waste of blood, was Edward Chester, the young
gentleman w^ho had been the first to quit the Maypole on the
previous night, and who, extending his hand to the locksmith,
welcomed him as his preserver 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 hesitation, " has done us many a kind
turn, and we naturally 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 lock-

BAENABT BUDGE, 65

smithes 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 upon
your chair," returned the locksmith, accommodating his action
to his speech, and bending over him, " I'll stand here, for the
convenience of speaking 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, 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.

"Pray, tell me, sir," said Varden, dropping his voice still
lower, " exactly what happened last night. I have my reason
for inquiring. You left the Maypole, 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 highway-
men there are, scouring the roads in all directions ? " said
Varden.

" I was, but I had only a stick, having imprudently left my
pistols in their holster-case with the landlord's son. I directed
him as he desired. Before 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 liimself. What like was he, sir ? Speak low,

56 BARNABY BUDGE.

if you please. Barnaby means no harm, but I have watched
him 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 expressed 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 handker-
chief. 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 different 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. " Halloa, 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

i: t>

BARNABY RUBGE. 57

were of the very last importance 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. ISTever say die. Bow wow wow. I'm a devil,
I'm a devil, I'm a devil. Hurrah ! " — And then, as if exult-
ing 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 devil, I'm a devil," and flapped
his wings against his sides as if he were bursting witli 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 iftimediately 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

6S BABNABY BUDGE.

needn't let these fellows into our secrets. We understand
each other. It's all right."

"/make hitn 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. / make him come ! Ha,
ha, ha ! "

On second thoughts, the bird appeared disposed to come of
himself. After a short survey of the ground, and a few side-
long looks at the ceiling and at everybody present in turn, he
fluttered to the floor, and went to Barnaby — not in a hop, or
w^alk, 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 succession 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 distinctness.

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 w^ounded 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 prepared to take his leave.

'' By-the-by," said Edward, as he shook him by the hand,
and looked from hin; to Mrs. Eudge and back again, " what

BARNABY BUDGE. 69

noise was that below ? I heard your voice in the midst of it,
and should have inquired before, but our other conversation
drove it from my memory. What was it ? '^

The locksmith looked towards her, and bit his lip. She
leaned 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 motionless. As
the locksmith said " Good-night," and Barnaby 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 acquaintance, 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."

"For a moment she hid her face in her hands and wept ; but
resisting the strong impulse wliich evidently moved her to
reply, opened the door — no wider than was sufficient for the
passage of his body — and motioned him away. As the lock-
smith stood upon the step, it was chained and locked behind
him, and the raven, in furtherance of these precautions, 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 l)orne
so fair a name be guilty of such crimes in secret ! " said the

60 BARNABT BUDGE.

locksmith, musing. ^^ 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 wickedness going on, that
raven's in it, I'll be sworn."

BARNABY BULGE. 61

CHAPTER VIT.

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 amaz-
ingly 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 skilful-
ness 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 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 couhl 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-
conditioned state from mere excess of comfort, and like them,
are often successfully cured by renu'dies in themselves very
nauseous and unpalatable.

62 BABNABT BULGE.

Mrs. Varden's chief aider and abetter, and at the same time
her principal victim and object of wrath, was her single domes-
tic servant, one Miss ^liggs ; or as she was called, in conformity
with those prejudices of society which lop and top from poor
handmaidens all such genteel excrescences — Miggs. This
Miggs was a tall young lady, very much addicted to pattens
'in private life ; slender and shrewish, of a rather uncomfort-
able figure, and though not absolutely ill-looking, of a sharp
and acid visage. As a general principle and abstract proposi-
tion, 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 exasper-
ated against them (which, scandal said, was when Sim Tapper-
tit 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 she could only have good security for a fair, round number
— say ten thousand — of young virgins following her example,
she would, to spite mankind, hang, drown, stab, or poison her-
self, with a joy past all expression.

It was the voice of Miggs that greeted the locksmith, 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, opening the door with a
look of surprise. "W^e 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 con-
cern ; 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, mim," cried Miggs, running before
him into the parlor. " You was wrong, mim, and I was right.
I thought he wouldn't keep us up so late two nights running,
mim. Master's always considerate so far. I'm so glad, mim,
on your account. I'm a little" — here Miggs simpered — "a
little sleepy myself ; I'll own it now, mim, though I said I

BARNABT BUDGE. 63

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 liad
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 mistress 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 mis-
tress, I do not ask your pardon, but am content to get myself
into trouble and to be in suffering."

Here Mrs. Yarden, who, with her countenance shrouded in a
large nightcap, had been all this time intent upon the Protes-
tant Manual, looked round, and acknowledged Miggs's cham-
pionship by commanding her to hold her tongue.

Every little bone in ^liggs's throat and neck developed itself
with a spitefulness quite alarming, as she replied, " Yes, mini,
I will."

" How do you find yourself now, my dear ? " said the lock-
smith, 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.
Yarden, 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 Martlia " — said Gabriel.

Mrs. Yarden turned over to the next page ; then went back
again to the bottom line over leaf to be quite sure of tlie last
words, and then went on reading with an appearance of the
deepest interest and study.

"My dear Martha," §aid the locksmith, "how can you say
such things, when you know you don't mean them? If you
were dying ! Why, if there was anything serious the matter

64 BARNABY BUDGE.

with 3'ou, 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. Certainly 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 me 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 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 prevent its splitting into small fragments. Mrs.
Varden, who likewise possessed that faculty in high perfec-
tion, 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 occurrences of
last night so completely overpowered the locksmith, that he
nodded in his chair, and would doubtless have slept there all

BARNABY BUDGE. 65

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 cheer-
ful, 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, mini, 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 complain 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 sulking 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 lock-
smith. " I was really afraid you were not disposed to talk
pleasantly ; I'll tell you everything ; I shall only be too glad,
my dear."

" No, Varden," returned his wife, rising with dignity. " 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 ver}^ depths of
compassionate despondency, passed instantly into the liveliest
state conceivable, and tossing her head as she glanced towards
the locksmith, bore off her mistress and the light together.

VOL. I.

66 BABNABT BUDGE.

"Now, who would think," thought Varden, shrugging 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, for his
hearty temper. While his eyes were closed, the door leading
to the upper stairs was partially opened ; and a head a|>
peared, 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 minutes, when
the head again appeared, and Sim Tappertit 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
ironmongery, upon my soul ! "

As he spoke, he drew from the right hand, or rather right
leg pocket of his smalls, a clumsj^^ 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 workmanship 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.

BARNABT KUDGE. 67

CHAPTEK VIII.

Clear of the locksmith's house, Sim Tappertit laid aside
his cautious manner, and assuming in its stead that of a ruf-
flino-, swaggering, roving blade, who would rather kill a man
thaS 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, slack-
ened his pace and wiped his heated brow, as if the termination
of his walk were near at hand.

It was not a very choice spot for midnight expeditions,
beincT in truth one of more than questionable 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-favored 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 swung to and fro like some
gibbeted malefactor, struck thrice upon an iron grating with
his foot. After 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. -, ^i i i

" Is that the captain ? " said a voice as ragged as tlie head.
"Yes," replied :\[r. Tappertit haughtily, descending as he

spoke, " who should it be ? "

" It's so late, we gave you up," returned the voice, as its

eS BARNABY BULGE.

owner stopped to shut and fasten the grating. " You're late,
sir."

"Lead on," said ]\rr. Tappertit, with a gloomy majesty, ^-and
make remarks when I require you. Forward ! "

This latter word of command was perhaps somewhat theat-
rical 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-but. 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 the^re 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.

" What news to-night ? " he asked, when he had looked into
his very soul.

"Nothing particular," replied the other, stretching himself
— and he was so long already that it was quite alarming to
see him do it — "how come you to be so late ? "

" lN"o 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 — j'ou hear 'em ? "

" Playing skittles ! " said the captain, moodily. " Light-
hearted revellers ! "

There was no doubt respecting the particular amusement in
which these heedless spirits were indulging, for even in the
close and stifling atmosphere 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 purpose 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

BARNABT BUDGE. 69

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 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, wag-
ging 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 Avas 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, usquebaugh ? Is
it soaked gunpowder, or blazing 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 captain joketh. Ha, ha,
ha!"

" I'll tell you what, my fine feller," said ]\[r. Tappertit, 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 hnd tliat the captain's
very far from joking, and so I tell you."

"He's got his eyes on me ! " cried Stagg, stopping short on
his way back, and affecting to screen his face with the bottle.

70 BARNABY BUDGE.

'' I feel 'ein 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 influ-
ence 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 heairt ! "

Mr. Tappertit condescended to take the glass from his out-
stretched 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 eye's, to look upon
these twin invaders of domestic peace ! "

" Get out ! " said Mr. Tappertit, glancing downward 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."

" Yours ! " exclaimed Mr. Tappertit. " No, I should think
not. Don't talk about those precious old toothpicks in the
same breath wdth 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
themselves; as was manifested by the increased noise and

BABNABY BUDGE. 71

clamor of tongues, which was suddenly stopped, however, and
replaced by a dead silence, at a signal from the long comrade.
Then, this young gentleman, 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 staif of authority cocked his three-cornered
hat fiercely on the top of his head, and mounted a large table,
whereon 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 j^oung
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 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 corresponding size.

When the long comrade had made these preparations, he
looked towards ^h\ 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 participation 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 withdrew as he liad 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
with tarnished lace ; and who was girded with a sword, in
compliance with the laws of the Institution regulating the

72 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 blunderbuss pointed towards his ear, and the other a very
ancient sabre, with Avhich he carved imaginary offenders as he
came along iu 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 suffi-
ciently, the captain ordered the bandage to be removed, and
proceeded to eye him over.

"Ha! "said the captain, thoughtfully, when he had con-
cluded 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 captain. " 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 Sundays 5tit, 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 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 grizzly 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, " ven-

BARN A BY BUDGE. 73

geance, 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 established — 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 aspirations 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, except 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 reference to that sagacious fish, the crab,
and the not unfrequent practice of the mule and donke}^, he
described their general objects; which were briefly vengeance
on their Tyrant Masters (of whose grievous 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 impressive kind ; binding»him at the bidding of his chief,
to resist and obstruct the Lo^d jVIayor, 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 l^ar,

74 BABNABY BULGE.

which was strictlj^ 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, stimulated 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 with-
draw 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 ad-
ministered with many impressive circumstances, among which
the lighting up of the two skulls with a candle-end inside of
each, and a great many flourishes with the bone, were chiefly
conspicuous ; not to mention a variety of grave exercises with
the blunderbuss and sabre, and some dismal groaning by un-
seen 'prentices without. All these dark and direful cere-
monies 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 ]\[r. 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 in-
different eye, alike on skittles, cards, and dice, thinking only
of the locksmith's daughter, and the base degenerate days on
Avhich he had fallen.

"M}^ 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 brigand, gen-
teel highwayman or patriot — and they're the same thing,"
thought Mr. Tappertit, musing among the nine-pins, "I

BARNABY BUDGE. 75

should have been all right. But to drag out a ignoble exist-
ence unbeknown to mankind in general — patience ! I will be
famous yet. A voice within me keeps on whispering Great-
ness. 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. Move 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 impressively, notwithstanding
— " where is he ? "

" Here, noble captain ! " cried Stagg. " One stands beside
me who I feel is a stranger."

"Have you," said ^Ir. 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 producing it
from the shelf on which it had been deposited.

"Good," said Mr. Tappertit, scrutinizing it attentively,
while a breathless silence reigned around ; for he had con-
structed secret door-keys for the whole societ}', and perliaps
owed something of his influence to that mean and trivial cir-
cumstance — 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. Xo chatf, you
know."

"Have you," rejoined Mr. Tappertit, catching him by the
wrist, and giving him a look which would liave been I'Xjtres-
sive of the most deadly malevolence, but for an accidental hic-
cough that rather interfered with it ; " have you a — a rival ? "

" Not as I know on," replied the 'prentice.

"K you had now" — said Mr. Ta}»i)ertit — "what would
you — eh ? " —

The 'prentice looked licrcc and d inched his lists.

76 BARNABY BUDGE.

"It is enough," cried Mr. Tappertit hastily, "we under-
stand 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 ; forbidding all 'Prentice Knights to succor, com-
fort, 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 where-
soever they, or any of them, should happen to encounter him.

Having relieved his mind by this energetic proceeding, 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 surpassing agility and brilliancy
of execution, that the spectators could not be sufficiently
enthusiastic in their admiration ; and their host protested,
with tears in his eyes, that he had never truly felt his blind-
ness 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
marshalling -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; "Farewell brave
general. Bye, bye, illustrious commander. Gook 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 his daily occupa-

BARNABY BUDGE. 77

tion ; which was to retail at the area-head above pennyworths
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
connection, 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.

78 BABNABT BUDGE.

CHAPTEE IX.

Chroniclers are privileged to enter where they list, to
come and go through keyholes, to ride upon the wind, to over-
come, 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 com-
panionship 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, with-
drew to her own a^^artment, in the attic story. Notwith-
standing her declaration in the locksmith's presence, she was
in no mood for sleep ; so, putting her light upon the table
and withdrawing the little window curtain, she gazed out
pensively 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 glimmering 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 nothing
in particular. Whatever she thought about, there she sat,
until her attention, alive to an^'thing connected with the
insinuating 'prentice, was attracted 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 polish-
ing the w^hitewashed 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,

BAENABY BUDGE. 79

Miss Miggs turned pale and shuddered, as mistrusting 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 tlia^
handrail, she descried, to her great amazement, Mr. Tappertit
completely dressed, stealing down^stairs, one step at a time,
with his shoes in one hand and a lamp in the other. Follow-
ing 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 up-stairs 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 ]\Iiss IMiggs awake under the influence 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 belield the retreating figure of the 'prentice; again lie
looked cautiously in at the parlor door, but this time, instead
of retreating, he passed in and disappeared.

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

80 BARNABT RUDGE.

carefully behind him, tried it with his knee, and swaggered
off, putting 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 everything as Sim had left it.

"Why I wish I may only have a walking funeral, and
never be buried decent with a mourning-coach 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 consideration,
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 filled this instrument with a quantity of small
coal dust from the forge, she approached the door, and
dropping on one knee before it, dexterousty 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 up-stairs 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 ! "

ftii#iiK

MIGGS ON THE WATCH.

BARNABY BUDGE. 81

As she uttered tliis criticism, she glanced approvingly 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, wrapping
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 Avait 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 footstep 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 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 fore-
head, and sat down on the step in despair.

When this crisis had arrived. Miss Miggs, affecting 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 ? "

VOL. I.

82 • BABNABT BUDGE.

ii's^o — no — no I " cried Mr. Tappertit.

''Then/' said ^liggs, 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. Tappertit, knock-
ing himself on the breast. " Don't you see me ? What a
fool you are, Miggs ! "

" There ! " cried Miggs, unmindful of this compliment.
" Why — so it — Goodness, what is the meaning of — If you
please mim here's " —

" No, no ! " cried Mr. Tappertit, standing on tiptoe, as if
by that means he, in the street, were any 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, in-
deed. 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 slumbers 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 " — •

BAUNABY BULGE. . %Z

" 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 remarkable
earnestness. "Upon my soul, I won't. It's getting broad
day, and the watchman's waking up. Angelic iVIiggs! 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 how strong the temptation was, and
fearing he might forswear himself), 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 em-
barrassed 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, jNIiggs. What a slippery figure
she is ! There's no holding her, comfortably. Do keep up a
minute, Miggs, will you ? "

As INIiggs, however, was deaf to all entreaties, Mr. Tapper-
tit leant her against the wall as one might dispose of a walk-
ing-stick or umbrella, until he had secured the window, when
he took her in his arms again, and, in short stages and with
great difficulty — 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 up-stairs, and j)lanting 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 i\riss IMiggs, re-
covering as soon as she was left alone; "but I'm in his con-
fidence and he can't lielp himself, nor couldn't if he was
twenty Simmunses ! "

84 BABNABT BUDGE.

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 lingering
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, Avas 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 May-
pole door.

He was none of your flippant youDg 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
penetrate 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 other impertinencies 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 un-
conscionable blades, requiring impossible chops, and taking
unheard-of pickles for granted. He was a staid, grave,
placid gentleman, something past the prime of life, yet up-
right 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 fopperies as were then

BARNABT RUDGE. 85

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 scrupu-
lously white. Although 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 pig-tail. Neither man nor beast had turned a single hair ;
and, saving for his soiled skirts and spatterdashes, this gen-
tleman with his blooming face, Avhite teeth, exactly ordered
dress, and perfect calmness, might have come from making
an elaborate and leisurely toilet, to sit for an equestrian
portrait at old John Willet's gate.

It must not be supposed that John observed these several
characteristics by other than very slow degrees, or that he
took in more than half a one at a time, or that he even made
up his mind upon that, 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
courtesying 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 liis dress. " Are you the landlord ? "

" At your service, sir," replied Jolin 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

86 BATtNABY RUDGR

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 readiness 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.

" 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 drowsi-
ness, 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, waver-
ing 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.

"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 understanding quite,
what had become of him. " He melts, I think. He goes like a

prmA^T^

^^

BARXABT BUDGE. 87

drop of froth. You look at him and tliere 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, occupying 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 bearings, though cracked, and patched, and shattered,
yet remained ; attesting, by their preseuQ^, 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 jD^ain, bare, searching truth.
Although the best room of the inn, it had the melancholy
aspect of grandeur in decay, and was much too vast for com-
fort. 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, and music, and the tread
of maiden feet, had once been there, and tilled 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 lielp
the man whose heart ever changes with tlie 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 Hgnres. grinning and grotesque. After
lighting with his own hands the fagots which were heaped

88 BARNABT BUDGE.

upon the hearth, old John withdrew to hold grave council
with his cook, touching the stranger's entertainment ; 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 mantel-shelf containing a dusty apology for all
three. Having set this before him, the landlord was retiring,
when he motioned him to stay.

"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 him-
self with nodding his head in the affirmative ; at the same
time taking one hand out of his pockets to cough behind, and
then putting it in again.

" I Avant 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 mes-
senger 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 him-
self employed on grave and serious business, would go any-
where.

" 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 89

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 fellow'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, 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 Az??i."

" 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 yesterday. But I was not attend-
ing to the good woman much."

" You're right, sir," John made answer, " he does. His
father, sir, was murdered in that house."

" So I have heard," returned the guest, taking a gold tooth-
pick 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
l^im, 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 running in and out, and up and down stairs,
intolerable. I wouldn't liave such a thing happen to anybody
I was nearly interested in, on any account. 'Twould bo
enough to wear one's life out. — You were going to say,
friend" — he added, turning to John again.

90 BAENABY BUDGE.

" Only that Mrs. Riidge 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 down-stairs, 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 may have. Limit
the comparison to yourself, my friend."

Although this was said with the same easy affability, 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 engarg'ed just now, tell him — can he remember a
message, landlord ? "

BARXABY BUDGE. 91

"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 some-
thing like a knowing look, " 1 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.

" 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 themselves 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.

92 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 jou, clever as you are,
— not I ! "

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 IMr. 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 confidence — " 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 preserved 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 remaining,
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 reasonable 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 ; the light waned without,
it grew dusk, became quite dark, and still no Barnaby

BAB NAB Y BUDGE. 93

appeared. Yet, though John Willet was full of wonder and
misgiving, his guest sat cross-legged in the easy-chair, to all
appearance 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 AYillet ; " 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 than
presence of mind, or any reference to this remark, and was
about to withdraw, when a bounding 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 eat and drank, to meet his loving friend."

"Was that his message ?" asked the visitor, looking up.
but without the smallest discomposure — or at least without
smallest show of any.

94 BARNABY BUDGE.

"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 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 Barnaby 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 money ! " 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

BARNABT BUDGE. 95

supposed to have any acquaintance even with the existence of
such unpolite 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.

96 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 God-
send. Here was a good, dark-looking mystery progressing
under that very roof — brought home to the fireside as it were,
and enjoyable without the smallest pains or trouble. It is
extraordinary 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 despatch, 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 burned clear and high,
and the crickets in the hearth-stone chirped with a more than
wonted satisfaction.

BARNABY BUDGE. 97

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, sleeping too, lay stretched upon the bencli 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 proportions. It was that of a
young man, of a hale athletic figure, and a giant's strength,
whose sunburned 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 disorder
of the whole man, with something fierce and sullen in his
features, gave him a picturesque appearance, that attracted
the regards even of the Maypole customers who knew him
well, and caused 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, j^ou 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 everybody 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 tlie
compliment, " that I don't tackle you, sir, wliicli I shall
certainly endeavor to do, if you interrupt me wlien I'm

VOL. I.

98 BABNABY BUDGE.

making observations. — That chap, I was a-saying, though he
has all his faculties 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 opening their lips, " Do
you observe what a philosophical mind our friend has ? "

" Why hasn't he ? " said John, gently striking the table
with his open hand. " Because they was 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-sayiug of, gentlemen ? "

" Ah ! we mind you," cried Parkes. " Go on improving of
us, Johnny."

" Consequently, then," said Mr. Willet, " that chap, whose
mother was hung when he was a little 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 Avide 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 morn-
ing, did he order the large room ? "

"He signified, sir," said John, "that he wanted a large
apartment. Yes. Certainly."

"Why then, I'll tell you what," said Solomon, speaking

BARNABT BUDGE. 99

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 alarming sugges-
tion. Mr. Willet looked at the fire, weighing in his own mind
the effect which such an occurrence would be likely to have
on the establishment.

"Well," said John, "I don't know — I am sure — I remem-
ber that when I went up last, he had put the lights upon the
mantel-shelf."

"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.

a — 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 INIr. 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 up-stairs, and the best
bed ordered already for the wounded man !

" Would it be swords or pistols now ? " said John.

"Heaven knows. Perhaps both," returned Solomon. "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 jNIr. Willet's face as he thought of
broken windows and disabled furniture, but bethinking him-
self that one of the parties would probably be left alive to pay
the damage, he brightened up again.

"And then," said Solomon, looking from face to face, "then
we shall have one of those stains upon tlie floor that never
come out. If Mr. Haredale wins, depend upon it, it'll be a

100 BAEXABY BUDGE.

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 Solomon, "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 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 j\Ir. 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, AVillet, who sent to me," he
said, in a voice which sounded naturally stern and deep.
" Where is he ? "

" In the great room up-stairs, sir," answered John.

" Show the way. Your staircase is dark, I know. Gentle-
men, 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 agita-
tion^-ingeniously lighting everything but the way, and making
a stumble at ever}^ second step.

BAIiXABY RUDGE. 101

^^ Stop ! ^' he said, Avhen 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 very thick ; so
descended, with much greater alacrity than he had come up,
and joined his friends below.

102 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XIT.

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,
presented himself, abruptly and in silence, before the smiling
guest.

If the two had no greater sympathy in their inward
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 disparity 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, negligently 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
tliat the contrast between them was all in 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 appear-
ance 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 103

arm upon the chimney-piece, and turning 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, tapping his
snuff-box, and following with a smile the impatient gesture
he had made — perhaps unconsciously — 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 pleasant 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."

"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 ^Ir. 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 deter-
mined not to quarrel with you, 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, interrupting 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 us attain it like sensible men, who have
ceased to be boys some time. — Do you drink ? "

" With iny friends," returned the other.

" At least," said I\Ir. Chester, " vou will be seated ? "

104 BABNABY BUDGE.

"I will stand,'' returned ]\[r. Haredale, impatiently, "on
this dismantled beggared hearth, and not pollute it, fallen as
it is, with mockeries. Go on ! "

" You are wrong, Haredale," said the other crossing his
legs, and smiling as he held his glass up in the bright glow
of the lire. "You are really very w^rong. 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 to take froth for substance, the surface for the depth,
the counterfeit for the real coin. I wonder no philosopher
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 —
w411 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, w^hen, by approaching each
other sensibly, as w^e 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 3'ou say, love him — that's the
word among such near relations. I'm very fond of Ned.
He's an amazingly good fellow, and a handsome fellow —
foolish and weak as yet ; that's all. But the thing is,
Haredale — for I'll be very frank, as I told you I would at
first — independently of any dislike that you and I might

BARNABT BUDGE. 105

have to being related to each other, and independently of the
religious differences between us — and damn it, that's im-
portant — 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 conversation is
to last," retorted Mr. Haredale fiercely. " I have said I love
ray niece. Do you 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 ourselves away, 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 u^^on it heavily. " If any man believes —
presumes to think — that I, in word, or deed, or in the wildest
dream, ever entertained remotely the idea of Emma Hare-
dale's favoring 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 tire, " it's extremely manly,
and really very generous in you, to meet me in this unreserved
and handsome way. Upon my word, those are exactly my
sentiments, only expressed with much more force and power
than I could use — you know my sluggish nature, and will
forgive me, I am sure."

" Wliile I would restrain her from all correspondence with
your son, and sever their intercourse here, though it should
cause her death," said Mr. Haredale, 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 tlie utmost bhindness, "to find my

106 BARNABT RUDGE.

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 neighborhood in
general, I think," returned the other, with his most affable
smile. " The messenger I sent to 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 learned
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."

" 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 anything real in the world, it is
those amazingly fine 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

BAENABT BUDGE. 107

filial duty and affection, and all that sort of thing, impera-
tively demand that he should run away with an heiress."

" And break her heart as speedily as possible ? " said Mr.
Haredale, drawing on his glove.

" 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. —
WonH you let me persuade you to take one glass of wine ?
Well ! as you please, as you please/' he added, helping
himself again.

" 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. Haredale.

"Oh, dear, no. Fie, fie!" returned the other, relishing a
pinch of snuff extremely. "Not lying. Only a little manage-
ment, a little diplomacy, a little — intriguing; that's the word."

" I wish," said jNIr. 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

BAKNABT RUUGE. 109

pulled them off, and, by opening his eyes much wider than
usual, to appear to express some surprise and disappointment
at not finding them full of blood. He took occasion, too, to
examine the gentleman as closely as he could, expecting to
discover sundry loop-holes in his person, pierced by his adver-
sa,ry'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 at last
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 the candle, 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 inspection, holding
his candle very close to the guest ; now making him feel
extremely warm about the legs, now threatening to set his
wig on fire, and constantly begging his pardon with great
awkwardness and embarrassment — John led the part}^ 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, liung with faded bro-
cade, 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 SAveet
smile, seating himself, when he had surveyed 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, officiously. "I'm afraid there
ain't much good in 'em."

"And Hugh ?" said Mr. Chester, turning to liim.

"Not I," he answered. " I know Ins" — i)ointing to Barnaby

110 BABNABT RUDGE.

— "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 fervor 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 ancient bed.

BARNABT BUDGE. Ill

CHAPTER XIII.

If Joseph Willet, the denounced and proscribed of 'pren-
tices, 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 reproach — 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 adviser.
In that fortunate case, the lovers would have had quick warn-
ing- 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 wislies,
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 surrounded her in his mind, almost from liis cradle,
with circumstances of unusual interest ; or from his attach-
ment towards the young gentleman, into whose confidence he
had, through his shrewdness and alacrity, and the rendering
of sundry important services as a spy and messenger, almost
imperceptibly 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 venerable parent, or in
any hidden little love affair of his own which gave liim some-
thing of a fellow-feeling in the matter, it is needless to inquire
— especially as Joe was out of the way, and had no opportu-
nity on that particular occasion of testifying to his sentiments
either on one side or the other,

It was, in fact, the twenty-fifth of INfarch, which, as most
people know to their cost, is, and has been time out of mind,
one of those unpleasant epoclis tiMincd (piarter-days. On tliis

112 BARNABY RUBGE.

twenty-fifth of March, it was John Willet's pride annually to
settle, in hard cash, his account with a certain vintner and dis-
tiller 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 object of a journey for Joe, so surely as the
year and day came round.

This journey was performed upon an old gray mare, con-
cerning whom John had an indistinct set of ideas hovering
about him, to the effect that she coukl 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. Xotwithstanding 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, when he
had recovered enough 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 touching his knees ; and
heedless of the dangling stirrups and loose bridle-rein, saun-
tered up and down on the little green before the door.

"Mind you take good care of her, sir," said John, appeal-
ing 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," retorted 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.

BARXABT RUDGE. 113

"And what does the boy mean," added 'Mv. Willet, after
he had stared at him for a little time, in a species of stupe-
faction, " by cocking his hat to such an extent ! Are you
a-going to kill the wintner, sir ? "

" Xo," 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 sw^aggering, 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 nose-
gays."

"I don't suppose anything of the kind," returned Joe.
" Let them keep their red noses for bottles and tankards.
These are going to Mv. 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
own?" 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 ex})ect me to be quiet under it."

"Let him have money ! " cried John in a drowsy reverie.
"What does he call money — guineas? Hasn't he got

VOL. T.

114 BABNABY BUDGE.

money ? Over and above the tolls, hasn't he one and six-
pence ? "

"One and sixpence ! " repeated his son contemptuously.

"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 accidents — 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 awkward imitation of a canter, mended her pace
all at once, and did it of her own accord. The acquaintance
with her rider's usual mode of proceeding, which suggested
this improvement in hers, impelled her likewise to turn up a
by-way, leading — not to London, but through lanes running
])arallel with the road they had come, and passing within a
few hundred yards of the Maypole, which led finally to an
enclosure surrounding a large, old, red-brick mansion — 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 suffered 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 hap-

BABNABY BUDGE. 115

pened to grow within 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 directed many covert glances. It
was a dreary, silent building, with echoing courtyards, deso-
lated turret-chambers, and whole suites of rooms shut up and
mouldering to ruin.

The terrace-garden, dark with the shade of overhanging
trees, had an air of melancholy that was quite oppressive.
Great iron gates, disused for many years, and red with rust,
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 on that part of the mansion which
was inhabited and kept in good repair, that struck the be-
holder with a sense of sadness ; of something forlorn and
failing, whence cheerfulness was banished. It would have
been difficult to imagine a bright fire 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 attributable, no
doubt, to the death of its former master, and the temper of its
present occupant ; but remembering 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, sucli 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 wliispering of
the crime.

116 BARNABY BUDGE.

Joe paced up and down the path, sometimes stopping in
affected contemplation of the buikling or the prospect, some-
times leaning against a tree with an assumed air of idleness
and indifference, but alwaj^s 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 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, all 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 transfixed, 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
AVhitechapel ; 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 ^vorkshop.

" 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 ? "

BARNABY BUDGE. 117

"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 great
deal better give 'em to her mother. Would you mind giving
'em to Mrs. Varden, Joe ? "

" Oh no, sir," Joe replied, and endeavoring, but not with
the greatest possible success, to hide his disappointment. " 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."

Now, Mrs. Varden, regarding the Maypole as a sort of
human man-trap, or decoy for husbands ; viewing its pro-
prietor, and all who aided and abetted him, in the light of so
many poachers among Christian men ; and believing, more-
over, that the publicans coupled with sinners in Holy Writ
were veritable licensed victuallers ; was far from being
favorably disposed towards her visitor. Wherefore 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
minute," 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

118 BARNABY BUDGE.

anybody could have known the pains he had taken to make up
that despised and misused bunch of floAvers !

" I feel it quite a relief to get rid of them, I assure you,"
said Mrs. Yarden. "I'm 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. Y.

"' I hope not, ma'am," returned Joe.

"You're the cruellest and most inconsiderate people in the
world," said Mrs. Yarden, bridling. " I wonder old Mr.
Willet, having been a married man 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. Yarden ; " and I dare
say you do not, Yarden. It's a ver}^ unpleasant subject I have
no doubt, though I won't say it's personal " — Miggs coughed
— "whatever I may be forced to think," Miggs sneezed expres-
sively. " You never will know, Yarden, and nobody at young
Mr. Willet's age — you'll excuse me, sir — can be expected to
know, Avhat 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, mim, I don't think you could a-bear it, I raly
don't."

"Miggs," said Mrs. Yarden, "you're profane."

"Begging your pardon, mim," returned Miggs, with shrill

BARNABT BUDGE. 119

rapidit}', "such Avas not my intentions, and such I liope is not
my character, though I am but a servant."

"Answering me, Miggs, and providing yourself," retorted
her mistress, looking round with dignity, "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 practicable Christian should."

"You'll have the goodness, if you please," said ]\[rs. Varden
loftily, " to step up-stairs and see if Dolly has finished dress-
ing, 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 i/ou.^'

This pronoun was understood in the plural sense, and
included both gentlemen, upon both of whom it was rather
hard and undeserved, for Gabriel had applied himself to the
meal with a very promising appetite, until it was spoiled 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 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 becom-
ing dress, by a thousand little coquettish ways wliich nobody
could assume with a better grace, and all tlie sparkling expec-
tation of that accursed party. It is impossible to tell how Joe

120 BARNABY BULGE.

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 work shop, 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 prettiest 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 loveliness 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 pro-
voking 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 aggra-
vations, and yet what delights were these ! The very chair-
men 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 finish tea.
So dark, so deserted, so perfectly disenchanted. It seemed
such sheer nonsense to be sitting tamely there, when she was
at a dance with more lovers than man could calculate flutter-
ing 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
unaccountable 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 ruminate on all the fasci-
nations of the locksmith's lovely daughter.

Gabriel was dull too. It was a part of the certain uncer-

BABNABY liUDGE. 121

tainty of Mrs. Varden's temper, that wlien 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, pray. 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."

" Thank you, Varden, ray 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 there-
fore' I shall go and sit up-stairs and look out of window,
my love. Good-night, Mr. Joseph. I'm very glad to have
seen you, and only wish I could have provided something
more suitable to your taste. Remember me very kindly,
if you please, to old jNIr. Willet, and tell him that when-
ever 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 courtesy remarkable for its conde-
scension, 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 determi-
nation, resolved upon for the hundredth time, to speak out
to Dolly and tell her how he loved lier ! 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 tosspot ! He bade farewell to
his friend the locksmith, 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

122 BABNABY BUDGE.

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.

BARN Any liUDGE. 123

CHAPTEK XIV.

Joe Willet rode leisurely along in his desponding mood,
picturing the locksmith's daughter going down long country-
dances, and poussetting dreadfully with l)old 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 ISIaypole 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, "which I
didn't know I did, 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 ? "

" 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 tliis 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 sirdve the
time well, sir, for I am too soon."

124 BAENABY BUDGE.

"And so am I," returned Edward, "though I was uncon-
sciously 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
daughter 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 communicated 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
Edw^ard 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 peacft and tran-
quillity 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 pur-
sued, and the light wind stirred yet more softly than before,
as though it were soothing Xature in her sleep. By little
and little they ceased talking, and rode on side by side in a
pleasant silence.

"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. An}^ 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

liAnXAIiV liUDGE. 125

bridle to his companion, and walked witli a light stop towards
the honse.

A female servant was waiting at a side gate in the garden-
wall, and admitted him witliout delay. He hurried along the
terrace-walk, and darted up a flight of broad steps leading
into an old and gloomy liall, whose walls were ornamented
with rusty suits of armor, antlers, weapons of tlie cliase, 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 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-whij), motioned him towards the
door. The young man drew hiuiself 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 comj^elled 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 witli tlie affec-
tions of a weak, trusting girl, while you slirink, in your
unworthiness, from her guardian and protector, and dare not
meet the light of day. More than tliis I will not say to you,
save that I forbid you this house, and rt'cpiire you to be
gone."

"It is neither generous, nor honorable, nor tlie act of a
true man to play the spy," said Edward. " Your words imply
dishonor, and T reject them with the scorn they merit."

" You will find," said INIr. Haredale, calmly, "your trusty
go-between in waiting at the gate l>y which you entered. I
have played no spy's i)art, sir. I chanced to see you pass the

126 B A UNA BY BUDGE.

gate and followed. You might have heard me knocking for
admission, had you been less swift of foot, or lingered in the
garden. Please to withdraw. Your presence here is 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 existence. 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 dis-
courteous words ? "

"You have done that, sir," answered Mr. Haredale, "which
must be undone. You have tied a lover's-knot here which
must be cut asunder. Take good heed of what I say. IVtust.
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.

"^Vords 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 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."

^-fed

BARXABY BUDGE. 127

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 sufficiently
explained what had passed, and renewed all that young
gentleman's despondency with tenfold 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 gentleman I ever had to
do with."

" Who, Willet ? " said Edward carelessly, as he dismounted.

"Your worthy father, sir," replied John. "Your honor-
able, venerable, father."

•" What does he mean ? " said Edward, looking with a mix-
ture 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 ! 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, upright
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 — forgotten 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.

128 BAIi^\^BY BUDGE.

CHAPTEE XV.

At noon next day, John Willet's guest sat lingering 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 comparisons very much to the disadvantage and
disfavor 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 chamber, 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 a
dressing-case and tiring equipage ; and, having gradually for-
gotten through these means the discomforts of an indifferent
night and an early ride, was in a state of perfect complacency,
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 break-
fast, with the additional sedative of a newspaper, there was
an air of repose about his place of residence peculiar to it-
self, 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 idly in the shade.
There is yet a drowsiness in its courts, and a dreamy dulness
in its trees and gardens ; 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 129

behind." There is still the plash of falling water in fair
Fountain Court, and there are yet nooks and corners where
dun-haunted students 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, something of a clerkly
monkish atmosphere, which public 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 s])illings 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 despondent.

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,
louliged ; now taking up 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 leisurely
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 lapdog in
a string, regarded both enormities with scornful sidelong
looks ; on that a weazen old gentleman, 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 earnest conversation :
and one young man sat thoughtfully on a bench, alone.

'' Xed is amazingly patient ! " said j\Ir. Chester, glancing at
this last-named person as he sat down his teacup and plied
the golden toothpick, " immensely 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.

130 BARXABT BUDGE.

" 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 en-
tered ; to whom his father gently waved his hand, and smiled.

" Are you at leisure for a little conversation, sir ? " said
Edward.

" Surely, Ned. I am always at leisure. You know my con-
stitution. — Have you breakfasted ? "

"Three hours ago."

" What a very early dog ! " cried his father, contemplating
him from behind the 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 3'ou, 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 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 131

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 me 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 resumed, when
he had complied with this request ; " her uncle, in her pres-
ence, 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, Avith no address
in life. — Positively a fly in the jug. The first I have seen
this- year."

Edward rose, and paced tlie room. His imperturbable
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 Ma^qoole dinner — a
tete-a-tete with Haredale, which, vanity apart, was quite a
Valentine and Orson business — a IMaypole bed — a INIaypole
landlord, and a Maypole retinue of idiots and centaurs; —
whether the voluntary endurance of these things looks like
indifference, dear Ned, or like the excessive anxiety, and devo-
tion, and all that sort of thing, of a parent, you shall deter-
mine for yourself."

"I wish you to consider, sir," said Edward, "in what
a cruel situation I am placed. Loving ]\Iiss Haredale as
I do " —

"j\ry dear feHow," interrupted his fatlier witli a conipas-

132 BABNABY BUDGE.

sionate smile, "you do nothing of the kind. You 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 guilty of
such amazing absurdities. 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. INFay 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 ? "

" ^[y 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 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 distinc-
tion, as being beyond my heeding, and beneath my care. I
have been, as the phrase is, liberally educated, and am fit for
nothing. I find myself at last wholly dependent upon you,
with no resource but in your favor. In this momentous ques-
tion of my life we do not, and it would seem, we never can,
agree. I have shrunk instinctively 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 earnestness, vast candor, a

BARNABY BUDGE. 133

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 Edward. "I
cannot bear this absolute dependence, sir, even upon you.
Time has been lost and opportunity thrown away, but I 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 pros-
pect for myself, 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 ex-
piration 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 us."

"My dear Ned," returned his father, laying down the
newspaper at which he had been glancing carelessly, 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 mis-
take—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, —

"You have to thank me, Ned, for being of good family;
for your mother, charming person as she was, and almost

134 BARXABT RUDGE.

broken-hearted, and so forth, as she left me, when she was
prematurely compelled to become immortal — had nothing to
boast of in tliat 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 circum-
stance and steadily resisted its contemplation, but I fear his
father dealt in pork, and that his business did once involve
cowheel 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 liad
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 indis-
pensable. 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 forget."

"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 remember, 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 upon an
inconsiderable annuit}^ and my past reputation."

"You are jesting with me, sir," said Edward.

" Not in the slightest degree, I assure you," returned 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 un-

BARXABY BUDGE. 135

comfortable. 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 pursued your studies
at a distance, and picked up a great variety of accomplish-
ments. 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, Xed," rejoined his father coolly; "you
are mistaken, I assure you. I found you a handsome, pre-
possessing, 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."

" 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 ungraceful and disagreeable — ni}' 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, indignantly.

" What in the devil's name, Ned, would 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-excluuige, the pul})it, 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 mer-
chant, in existence. If you are squeamisli and moral, Ned,
console yourself with the reflection that at the worst your
fortune-hunting can make but one |)ersoii miserable or
unliapj)y. How many people do you suppose these other
kinds of huntsmen crush in following their sport — hundreds
at a step ? Or thousands ? "

136 BABNABY BUDGE.

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 him-
self in a mirror, or survey a picture through his glass, with
the air of a connoisseur, " that we have had this conversation,
Ned, unpromising as it was. It establishes a confidence
between us which is quite delightful, and was certainly
necessary, though how you can ever have mistaken our posi-
tion and designs, I confess I cannot 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, rais-
ing 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 refinements
about me. I have always been used to them, and I cannot
exist without them. They must surround me, you observe,
and therefore they are here. With regard to our circum-
stances, Ned, you may set your mind at rest upon that score.
They are desperate. Your own appearance is by no means
despicable, and our joint pocket-money alone devours our
income. That's the truth."

" Why have I never known this before ? W^hy 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 compassion-
ately than ever, " if you made no appearance how could you
possibly succeed in the pursuit for which I destined you ? As
to oiir 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

BARXABY BUDGE. 137

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 uncon-
sciously played ! I to win the heart of Emma Haredale ! I
would, for her sake, I had died lirst ! "

" I am glad you see, Ned," returned his father, " how per-
fectly 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'd 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 tliat
objection aside, which is impossible, we come to another which
is quite conclusive. The very idea of marrying a girl whose
father was killed, like meat ! Good God, Ned, how disagree-
able ! Consider the impossibility of having any respect for
your father-in-law under such unpleasant circumstances —
think of his having been 'viewed' by jurors, and 'sat upon'
by coroners, and of his very doubtful position in the family
ever afterwards. 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 happening. But I tease you
perhaps. You would rather be alone ? ]\[y 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 arranging 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
understand them, remained quite still and silent. After the
lapse of half an hour or so, the elder Cliester, gayly dressed,
went out. The younger still sat with his head resting on his
hands, in what appeared to be a kind of stupor.

138 BAHNABY BULGE.

CHAPTEE 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 ver}^ different in char-
acter 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 asj^ect 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 cot-
ton 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 glimmer-
ing 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 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 where the pursuit was hot, was
rendered easy.

It is no wonder that with these favoring circumstances in
full and constant operation, street robberies, often accompanied
by cruel wounds, and not unfrequently by loss of life, should
have been of nightly occurrence in the very heart of London,

STREET IN OLD LONDON.

BAR NAB Y RUDGE. 139

or that quiet folks should have ?iad 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 dis-
agreeable — about the thoroughfares of London then, with
which they had been long familiar. Some of the shops,
especially those to the eastward of Temple 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 the streets.
Long stands of hackney-chairs and groups of chairmen, com-
pared with whom the coachmen of our day are gentle and
polite, obstructed 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 fragment 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 passenger 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. ^Fany a pri-
vate chair too, enclosing some hue lady, monstrously hooped
and furbelowed, and preceded by running footmen beaiing

140 BABNABY BUDGE.

flambeaux — for which extinguishers are yet suspended 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 running
gentry, who carried it with a very high hand, to quarrel in
the servants' hall while waiting for their masters and mis-
tresses ; and, falling to blows 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 these
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 quadrille, were passing
at the west end of the town, heavy stage-coaches and scarce
heavier wagons were lumbering slowly towards the city, the
coachmen, 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' conversation through the town, and a
Public Progress of some fine gentleman (half drunk) to
Tyburn, dressed in the newest fashion and damning the ordi-
nary 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 could
answer. His name was unknown, he had never been seen
until within eight days or thereabouts, and was equally a
stranger to the old ruffians, upon whose haunts he ventured
fearlessly, as to the young. He could be no spy, for he never

BARNABY BUDGE. 141

removed his slouched hat to look about him, entered into con-
versation 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
outcasts 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 quicken-
ing 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 hurrying
away. Those who encountered him, saw liim 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 spot. The footpad hiding in a 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 pause
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 commerce lay
among the graves — resolved to question this strange com-
panion. Next night, when he had eat his poor nu^al vora-
ciously (he was accustomed to do that, they had observed, as

142 ^ A UNA BY FUDGE.

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 communicative. Be more the
gentleman in this good company. 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 unwashed 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 apprehension of a general
attack.

His voice, and look, and bearing — all expressive of the
wildest recklessness and desperation — daunted while they
repelled the bystanders. Although 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 tremen-

BARNABY BUDGE. 143

dous 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 inconvenient precedent to meddle too curiously
with a gentleman's private affairs if he saw reason to conceal
them, warned the fellow who had occasioned 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 wlien 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 than 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 reappeared. It was nigh eleven o'clock, and the pas-
sengers 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 thougli
distrustful of being stopped, and robbed of sucli trifling prop-
erty as she carried with her. He crept along on the other side
of the road. Had she been gifted with tlie 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, with the liaste 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 beside her; the api)arition of a dream.

144 BABNABY BUDGE.

His hand was on her mouth, but that was needless, 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.

BABNABY BUDGE. l45

CHAPTER XVII.

It was a chilly night, and the lire 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
unwashed, 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.

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."

VOL. I.

146 BABNABT RUDGF!.

" 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 clinched 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 creatures shrink, save those curst beings of
another world, who will not leave me ; — I am, in my despera-
tion 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

BABNABT HUDGK U7

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 produced 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 ; and although
when she passed him (as she was obliged to do in going to
and from the cupboard) she gathered the skirts of her gar-
ment about her, as if even its touching his by chance were
horrible 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 hunger — he moved
his chair towards the fire 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 3'our 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 liis hand. As
he was counting them, she listened for a moment and sprung
towards him.

148 BARI^ABT BVDGE.

" Take what there is, take all, take more if more were
there, but go before it is too late. I have heard a way-
ward step without, I know 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. Miser-
able 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 knocking 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, uncer-
tain what to do or where to turn, the shutters flew open. He
had barely time to catch a knife from the table, sheathe it in
the loose sleeve of his coat, hide in the closet, and do all with
the 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, thrust-
ing in his head, and staring round the room. "Are you
there, mother ? How long you keep us from the fire and
lii^-ht."

"If,

BABNABT BUDGE. 149

She stammered some excuse and tendered him her hand.
But Barnaby sprung iightly 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 quar-
relled with every little bowing twig — thinking, he told me,
that it mocked him — and has worried it like a bull-dog. 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 S3anpathy by crowing like a cock, and after-
wards 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 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. ])ut 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 tlie basket, and in return
was watching him intently with his glistening eye.

150 BABNABT BUDGE.

"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 despatch,
and then to stand upon it. Believing, no doubt, that he had
now rendered it utterly impossible, and beyond the power of
mortal man, to shut him up in it an}' 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

BABNABT BUDGE. 151

limb until it had passed away. After a time he raised his
head and looked about him.

"Is it gone?-'

" There has been nothing here," rejoined his mother, sooth-
ing him. '• Nothing indeed, dear Barnaby. Look! You see
there are but you and me."

He gazed at her vacantly, and, becoming reassured 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. May-
pole 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 thousand. 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 him-
self 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, 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 tlie deep, red sunset, and the wild
faces. I am hungry too, and Grip lias eaten nothing since
broad noon. Let us to supper. Grip ! To supper, lad ! "

152 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 disgorging 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 resisting temp-
tation. 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 the progress
of lys meal, he wanted more bread from the closet and rose to
get it. She hurriedly interposed to prevent him, and sum-
moning her utmost fortitude, passed into the recess, and
brought it out herself.

" Mother," said Barnaby, looking at her steadfastly as she
sat down beside him, after doing so ; " is to-day my birth-
day ? "

" 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 up-stairs
to bed, and when it was midnight, striking one o'clock, we

BARNABY BUDGE. 153

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.

"Xo, no," said Barnaby. "But you said something in a
prayer ; and when you rose and walked about, you looked (as
you have done ever since, mother, towards night on my birth-
day) just as you do now. I have found that out, you see,
though I 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 considered the sentiment, and regarded it as
apposite to birthdays, he cried, " Xever 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 lire ; Grip perched upon his leg, and divided
his time between dozing in the grateful warmth, and endeav-
oring (as it presenth' appeared) to recall a new accomplish-
ment 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 interposed. "Polly put the
ket " — cried Grip, and his master was broad awake again.

At length Barnaby slept soundly ; and the bird with liis
bill sunk upon his breast, his breast itself puffed out into a
comfortable alderman-like form, and his bright eye growing
smaller and smaller, really seemed to be subsiding into a state

154 BARNABT BUDGE.

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, hurrah, 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 3'ou 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."

" 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 pros-
trate form, softly turned back the head and looked into the
face. The light of the fire was upon it, and its every linea-
ment was revealed distinctly. 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"

BARXABY BUDGE. 155

in my power. Be careful how you. use me. Be carefiil 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.

" Oh 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 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 !"

156 BABNABY BUDGE.

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 Cornhill and Smithfield ; with no more fixedness of
purpose 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 footsteps sounded on the pave-
ment, or the lamplighter on his rounds went flashing past,
leaving behind a little track of smoke mingled with glow-
ing 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
lioUow of a tree ; are dismal things — but not so dismal as the
wandering upland down where shelter is, and b^ds 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 slumber-
ing 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 157

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 disturbed 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 merriment 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 all ; and then the house was close shut up,
arid 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 failing in his purpose,
turned and fled.

He was soon in the quarter he had lately traversed, and
pacing to an 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 madcaps, whooping and calling to each other, who,
parting noisily, took different ways and dispersed in smaller
groups.

Hoi)ing that some low place of entertainment which would
afford him a safe refuge might be near at hand, he turned into

158 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 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 liis 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. Gook luck, illustrious general!"

In return to these compliments the otlier 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. Tappertit, step-
ping 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 proportions ! No, no,
my captain. We will inveigle ladies fair, and wed them in
our secret cavern. We will unite ourselves "svith blooming
beauties, captain."

" I'll tell you what, my buck," said Mr. Tappertit, releasing
his leg; "I'll trouble you not to take liberties, and not to

iiPc ^'-^

-'7>'J>

-^i" \\\

! S

BARNABY BUDGE. 159

broach certain questions unless certain questions are broached
to you. Speak when you're spoke to on particular sub-
jects, 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 ^Slr. Tappertit haughtily. " Gentlemen,
lead on I " With which word of command (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 lirst 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 conscious 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, pointing towards
the dawn as though he saw it. "Do you know the day is
breaking ? "

"I know it," rejoined the other, "to m}' 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 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 tliat 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 ijoii 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 I have come
from the country, and desire to rest where there are none to

160 BABNABT BUDGE.

question me. I am faint, exhausted, worn out, almost dead.
Let me lie down, like a dog, before your fire. I ask no more
£han 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 accommodation " —

"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 companion have you below ? "

" None."

"Then fasten your grate there, and show me the way.
Quick ! "

The blind man complied after a moment's hesitation, and
they descended together. The dialogue had passed as hur-
riedly as the words could be 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 before. Take
your choice."

He bade him lead the way, and by the light of the torch
w^hich his conductor held up for the purpose, 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 burn-
ing, and flung himself 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 some-
times with a muttered word or two. His hands were

BAENABY BUDGE. 161

clinched, 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.

162 BARNABT BUDGE.

CHAPTER XIX.

Dolly Yarden's pretty little head was yet bewildered 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
coachmaker (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 accountable,
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 flourishing fortunes) in the grounds of
her teacup, a step was heard in the workshop, and Mr. Ed-
ward Chester was descried through the glass door, standing
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 a
sentimental mood, of the chaste and modest Miggs, who,
beholding him from the doorsteps she was then cleaning, did,
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 backward, 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 163

persons, and should be shunned by the righteous as a work of
sin and evil. She would no doubt have pursued her admo-
nition much further, 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
discomfited 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. Yarden, rising
and courtesying. "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 seriously to fear
that he might find it necessary to poison his master, before
his time was out.

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 is 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.

" 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. Yarden was delighted beyond measure.

" It occurred to me that probably your fair daughter might
be going to the AYarren, 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 wliile I am very
anxious it should reach its destination, I have particular rea-
sons for not trusting it to any other conveyance ; so that
without your help, I am wliolly at a loss."

" She was not going that way, sir, either to-day, or to-
morrow, nor indeed all next week," the lady graciously
rejoined, "but we shall be very glad to put ourselves out of

104 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 gkim and silent, that he objected to this arrange-
ment ; but you must not mind that, sir, if you please. It's
his way at home. Out of doors he can be cheerful and talka-
tive enough."

Now the fact was, that the unfortunate locksmith, blessing
his stars to find his helpmate in such good-humor, had been
sitting with a beaming face, hearing 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 discussions as these
between married people, are much better left alone. There-
fore, 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 lock-
smith.

" Well then, don't," said Mrs. Varden.

" Nor did I begin it, Martha," added the locksmith, good-
humoredly, " I must say that."

"You did not begin it, Varden ! " exclaimed his wife,
opening her eyes very wide and looking round upon the

BARNABY RUDGE. 1G5

company, as though she would say, You h«ar this man !
" You did not begin it, Yarden ! But you shall not say I was
out of temper, Xo, you did not begin it, oh, dear, no, not
you, my dear ! "

" Well, well," said the locksmith. " That's settled then."

"Oh, yes," rejoined his wife, "quite. If you like to say
Dolly began it, my dear, I shall not contradict 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, Yarden." 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 3^ou desire to see the first and foremost among
female martyrs, here she is, on view ! "

This little incident, illustrative though it was of ^Mrs.
Yarden^s extraordinary sweetness and amiability, had so
strong a tendency to check the conversation and to disconcert
all parties but that excellent lady, that only a few mono-
syllables 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 with-
out 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, and casting a great many
sidelong looks at Mrs. Yarden (who with the calmest counte-
nance in the world was five fathoms deep in the Prot<^stant
]\[anual), 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, Yarden," said his wife, without rising to the
surface.

166 BAEXABY BUDGE.

*' 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, "sve 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 up-stairs.

" What is the matter now, Martha ? " inquired the lock-
smith.

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 yoio know, child?
Damme ! " cried the locksmith, plucking at his wig in a
kind of frenzy, "nobody does know, I verily believe, but
INIiggs ! "

" Miggs," said Mrs. Varden faintly, and with symptoms of
approaching incoherence, "is attached to me, and that is suffi-
cient to draw down hatred 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's 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 apiece with the
rest. When you taunt me as you do to my face, how can I
wonder that you taunt 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 up-stairs, was deposited

BABNABT BUDGE. 167

in a highly spasmodic 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 up-
stairs, and much damping of foreheads, and vinegaring of
temples, and hartshorning of noses, and so forth ; and after
most pathetic adjurations from Miggs, assisted by warm brandy
and water not over-weak, and divers other cordials, also of a
stimulating quality, administered at first in teaspoonsful and
afterwards in increasing doses, and of which ]\Iiss ^liggs her-
self partook as a preventive measure (for fainting is infec-
tious) ; 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 miscellaneous, had
been superadded thereto; the locksmith 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 up-stairs.

"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 unhappiness has come of easy
fainting, Doll, than from all the greater passions put together.
Remember 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 ^Irs, Varden's room ; where that
lady, lying all pale and languid on her couch, was refreshing
herself with a sight of her last new bonnet, wliich Miggs, as a
means of calming her scattered spirits, displayed to the best
advantage at her bedside.

" Here's master, mim," said Miggs. "Oh, wliat a happiness
it is when man and wife come round again I Oli gracious, to
think that him and her should ever have a word togrtlior ! "

168 BARNABY BUDGE.

In the energy of these sentiments, which were uttered as an
apostrophe 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 forgiving 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 attend-
ant 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, nev^er did. Nor more did master
neither ; no, nor no one — never ! "

For five minutes or thereabouts, Mrs. Varden remained
mildly opposed to all her husband's prayers that she would
oblige him by taking a day's pleasure, but relenting at length,
she suffered herself to be persuaded, and granting him her
free forgiveness (the merit thereof, she meekly said, rested
with the Manual and not with her), desired that Miggs might
come and help her dress. The handmaid attended promptly,
and it is but justice to their joint exertions to record that,
when the good lady came down-stairs in course of time, com-
pletely decked out for the journey, she really looked as if
nothing had happened, and appeared in the very best health
imaginable.

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

BARNABT RUBGE. 169

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 heart-rending 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 unques-
tionably have done it, but for certain uneasy doubts besetting
him as to the shortest 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 blacksmitli in the end would marry them on
credit ; which by reason of his clerical office appeared, even to
his excited imagination, so unlikely, that he hesitated. And
while he stood hesitating, and looking post-chaises and six at
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 ^liggs were stand-
ing 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 tiling and of that, who should be descried
upon the pavement but that very coachmaker, looking so gen-
teel that nobody would have believed he had ever had any-
thing to do with a coach but riding in it, and bowing like any
nobleman. To be sure Dolly was confused when she bowed
again, and to be sure the cherry -colored ribbons trembled a
little when she met his mournful eye, which seemed to say,

170 BAliNABY liUDGE.

" I have kept my word, I have begun, the business is going
to the devil, and you're 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 fulness 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 landlords 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
up-stairs, 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 hospi-
tality from beginning to end. It was pleasant enough to be
held in such esteem, not to mention the refreshments ; 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 matrimonial
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.

It was only for a moment, however, that Joe forgot himself,
for speedily reviving he thrust his drowsy father aside — to

BARNABY BUDGE. 171

Mr. Willet's mighty and inexpressible indignation — and dart-
ing 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 common-
place 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 w^ell, and
offered to conduct her fnto 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 amaz-
ing 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 forming the fragrant grove already men-
tioned in this chronicle, suggestive, with goodly loaves of
snowy sugar stowed away hard by, of punch idealized 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, drink-
ables, or savory condiments ; lastly, and to crown all, as
typical of the immense resources of the establishment, 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 l)ar.
Mrs. Varden's did directly. She could no more have re-

172 BAUXABT BUDGE.

proached John Willet among those househohl 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 plent}' of ketchup), and a good salad, and a roast spring
chicken, with a dish of sausages and mashed potatoes, or
somethin.o: of that sort." Something of that sort ! The
resources of these inns! To talk carelessly 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, perhaps !
The kitchen too, with its great broad cavernous chimney ; the
kitchen, where nothing in the way of cookery seemed impos-
siV)le ; 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 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 w^hich 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.

BABNABT BUDGE, 173

CHAPTER XX.

The proud consciousness of lier trust, and the great im-
portance she derived from it, might have advertised it to
all the house if she had had to run the gantlet of its in-
habitants ; but as Dolly had played in every dull room and
passage mau}^ 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 confinement 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 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
consoled.

174 BARNABY BUDGE.

" 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.

" Wh}', I don't see how they can very well be more unprom-
ising 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 coachmaker suffered very much, and
quite pitied the poor man.

It was a long letter — a very long letter, written close on all
four sides of the sheet of paper, and crossed afterw^ards ; 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 dis-
tress, 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 inexpressibly comforted.

" I am sure that's what I should do if it was me," thought
Dolly. " To make one's sweethearts miserable 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 though it was read again. During this 'tedious

BABNABT BUDGE. 175

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 giv-
ing 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 likewise, Emma
said she would put it off until after 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 inces-
santly — 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 — iu
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 the course of which jMiss Haredale took
occasion to charge upon Dolly certain flirtish and inconstant
propensities, which accusations 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-sufliciently-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 j^rotestations tliat
she hoped she could do better than that indeed ! and so fortli),
she bade her farewell ; and after calling her back to give her

176 BABNABT BUDGE.

more supplementary messages for Edward, than anybody with
tenfold the gravity of Dolly Varden could be reasonably ex-
pected 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 gentleman 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 downcast 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 coming so suddenly upon
me, sir, — I would rather go, sir, if you'll be so good as to
let me."

" Immediately," said INIr. 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 goodness " —

"I know. I know," said Mr. Haredale. "Answer me a
question. What did j^ou bring here to-day ? "

" Bring here, sir ? " faltered Dolly.

" You Avill tell me the truth, I am sure. Yes."

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 ? "

BARN A BY BUDGE. 177

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."

"I commend your hrmness and your plain speaking," said
Mr. Haredale. " Kest assured that I have as little desire to
take your letter as your life. You are a very discreet mes-
senger 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 extremity.

"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 melancholy that was natural
to his face, " of providing a companion for my niece ; for her
life is a very lonely one. AVould you like the office ? You
are the oldest 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 3'ou 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 lieartily. Tlie tears once

VOL. I.

178 BARNABY BUDGE.

banished gav^e 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
AVarren chimneys, 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 from frequent trav-
ersing 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 beautifully
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 mys-
terious and knowing, 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 occupation. Between the bracelet and the letter
there was quite enough to do without thinking of anything
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 garnished here and there
with trees, she heard a rustling 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 w^as like that of a person tramping
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 — 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

BARNABT BUDGE. 179

cease when she stood still ? IShe 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.

180 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 expected her sooner.

"I thought it likely they would send," said Dolly, greatly
reassured by this.

" Nobody sent me," was his 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 apprehen-
sion even when other people were by, and had occasioned her
to shrink from him involuntarily. The having him for an
unbidden companion in so solitary a place, with the darkness
fast gathering about them, renewed and even increased the
alarm she had felt at hrst.

If his mariner had been merely dogged and passively fierce,
as usual, she would have had no greater dislike to his com-
pany 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 terri-
fied her very much. She glanced timidly towards him, uncer-
tain whether to go forward or retreat, and he stood gazing at
her like a handsome satyr; and so they remained for some

DOLLY WAYLAID BY HUGH.

I^r^-^Y

BARNABY RUhGE. 181

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 'ivoiding 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, mistress."

" I am proud to no one. You mistake me," answered Dolly.
" Fall back, if you please, or go on."

"Xay, mistress," he rejoined, endeavoring to draw her arm
through his. " I'll walk with you."

She released herself, and clinching her little hand, struck
him with right good will. At this, ]\Iaypole 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! W^ell done, mistress! Strike again. You
shall beat my face, and tear my hair, and pluck my beard up
by the roots, and welcome, 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 moment."

" 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 slie
could go no further.

"Hugh," cried the panting girl, "good Hugh; if you will
leave me I will give you anything — everything 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

182 BARNABT EUDGE.

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."

There was something so thoroughl}' savage in the manner
of these expressions, and the looks and gestures 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 nimble, 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 j'ards.

" 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 herself again.
"I win. Help!"

" A fine for crying out," said Hugh. " Ha, ha, ha ! A fine,
pretty one, from your lips. I pay myself ! 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 hiin : 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 assurances of safety, were
the first words Joe poured forth. But poor little Dolly was

BARNABY BUDGE. 183

SO breathless and terrified that for some time she was quite
unable to answer him, and liung 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, whispered
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 hesitation 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 hundred
times that night, and very often afterwards, when the dis-
closure was rising to her tongue, Dolly thought of that, and
repressed it. A deeply rooted dread of the man ; the con-
viction 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 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 ex-
claimed, —

" The letter ! "

184 BABNABY BUDGE.

'^ What letter ? " cried Joe.

"That I was carrying — I had it in my hand. My bracelet,
too," she said, clasping her wrist. '- 1 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, Avhich 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 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 wea^kness
on the part of Dolly and much tender supporting on the part
of Joe, they reached the Maypole bar at last, where the lock-
smith and his wife and old John were yet keeping high
festival.

My. 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 sufficient!}^ 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 expen-
sive and inconvenient, and might perhaps have proved detri-

BARNABY BUDGE. 185

mental to the Maypole business. Wherefore, and because he
looked with no favorable eye upon young girls, but rather con-
sidered that they and the whole female sex were a kind of
nonsensical mistake 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.

Joe, however, took down the lantern and lighted it; and
arming himself Avith 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 appearance 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 snoring your time away in chimney-
corners, when honest men's daughters can't cross even our
quiet meadows at nightfall witliout being set upon by foot-
pads, 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 with a

186 BARNABY BUDGE.

glance at young Willet, so slight and momentary that the
scowl it conveyed was lost on all but her. "About my
height ? "

" ]N"ot — not so tall/' Dolly -^lied, scarce knowing 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, i^ray 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 Mussulman 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 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, some-
what 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 187

were fixed upon her with an appearance of deep attention,
gradually addressed the whole of her discourse to him, whom
she entertained with a moral and theological lecture of con-
siderable length, in the conviction that great workings were
taking place in his spirit. The simple 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.
Varden's having frequently pronounced the word " Grace "
with much emphasis ; which word, entering 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 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 uncommon display of buttered
toast, and — in order that they might not grow faint for
want of sustenance, 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 under-done, or over-done, 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

188 BARNABY BUDGE.

somethingness of ham and toast with great cheerfulness.
Nay, under the influence of these wholesome stimulants, she
sharply reproved her daughter for being low and despondent
(which she considered an unacceptable 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 voluntary
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 especially 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 subsided, 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 dis-
suaded 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 glancing 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.

BARNABY BUDGE. 189

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 Saint 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.

She talked though ; talked about her friglit, and about
Joe's coming up to rescue her, and about her gratitude, and
about her fear that she might not 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 attention 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

190 BARNABT BUDGE.

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 grow-
ing 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 ! "

a 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."

" Ride on then," said Joe. " I'm not going to turn yet."

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 wakefulness 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
prevent 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 pro-
tested she would not hear of Joe's going a step further 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, sorrowfully.

BAR NAB Y BUDGE. 191

"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.

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. Xow, ain't j^ou the better
for.it, mini ? 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, mini," said IVIiggs, in a tone of
commiseration, "but such is not his intentions, I'm 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 yourself, 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 witli her face buried in her luinds
was crying very much.

192 BABNABY BUDGE.

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. Yarden 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. Yarden
was the sufferer. Thus when Dolly began to get a little
better, and passed into that stage in which matrons hold that
remonstrance 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 da}^, she must remember it
was the common lot of humanity, and in especial of woman-
kind, 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. Yarden entreated
her to remember that one of these days she would, in all
probability, have to do violence to 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 forti-
tude and forbearance. She represented to her in lively
colors, that if she (Mrs. Y.) 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 ?

BARXABY BUDGE. 193

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 w^ere to be hanged, drawn, and
quartered for it next minute, was the mildest, aimiablest,
forgivingest-spirited, longest-sufferingest female as ever she
could have believed ; the mere narration of whose excellencies
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 resent-
ments, they were now the happiest and affectionatest couple
upon earth ; as could be proved any day on application at
Golden Lion Court, number twenty-siven, second bell-handle
on the right-hand door-post. After glancing at herself as a
comparatively worthless 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 sustain 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 perfection, 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 in vindica-
tion 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 ]\Iiss iVIiggs, 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
vol.. I.

194 BARNABY BULGE.

picked up a full account of what had happened, but had the
exquisite delight of conveying it to ^Ir. Tappertit for his
jealousy and torture. For that gentleman, on account of
Dolly's indisposition, had been requested to take his supper in
the workshop, and it was conveyed thither by Miss Miggs's
own fair hands.

•' 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 circum-
stances, 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 Avorth their while to do so, that's the joke —
he, he, he ! "

Finding there was a lady in the case, Mr. Tappertit
haughtily requested his fair friend to be more explicit, and
demanded to know what she meant by " her."

"Why. that Dolly," said ^liggs, with an extremely sharp
emphasis on the name. "But, oh upon ni}^ 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 I "

"My stars, Simmun !" cried Miggs, in affected astonish-
ment. " You frighten me to death ! What's the matter ? "

"There are strings," said Mr. Tappertit, flourishing 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 ! "

Notwithstanding this uncivil exhortation, Miggs gladly did
as she was required; and told him how that their young

BARlStABT RUDGE. l95

mistress, being alone in the meadows after dark, had been
attacked by three or four tall men, who would liave certainly
borne her away and perhaps murdered her, but for the timely
arrival 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 days 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 review of the occurrences of the day. But Mrs.
Varden, whose practical religion (as is not uncommon) was
usually of the retrospective order, cut him short by declaim-
ing 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.

196 BARXABY RUBGK

CHAPTEE 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, entertaining himself with a book.

He was dressing, as it seemed, by easy stages, and having
performed half the journey was taking a long rest. Com-
pletely 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
separate 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 com-
position, the most delicate thoughts, the finest code of
morality, and the most gentlemanly sentiments in the universe !
Ah Ned, Ned, if j'ou 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 sbn
on the model you have left to all wise fathers, both he and I
would have been rich men. Shakspeare was undoubtedly

BAIiNABY BUDGE. 197

very fine in liis way ; Milton good, tlioiigli prosy, Lord Bacon
deep, and decidedly knowing- ; but the writer who should be
his country's pride, is my Lord Chestertield.''

He became thoughtful again, and the toothpick was in
requisition.

" I thought I was tolerably accomplislied as a man of the
world," he continued, '•' I flattered myself that I was pretty
well versed in all those little arts and graces which distin-
guish 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 natural pre-
possession 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 som'e
superlative piece of selfishness to which I was utterly a
stranger. I should quite blush for myself before this stupen-
dous creature, if, remembering his precepts, one might blush
at anything. An amazing man ! 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 unwelcome visitor.

"A late hour for an importunate creditor," he ^aid, raising
his eyebrows with as indolent an expression of wonder as if
the noise were in the street, and one with wliich lie had not

198 BAUNABY BUDGE.

the smallest personal concern. " Much after their accustomed
time. The usual pretence I suppose. No doubt a heavy pay-
ment 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. AVell. What now ? You know I am not at
home."

"A man, sir," replied the servant, who was to the full as
cool and iregligent in his way as his master, "has brought
home the riding-whip you lost the other day. I told him you
were out, but he said he was to wait while I brought it in, and
wouldn't go till I did."

" He w^as quite right," returned his master, " and you're a
blockhead, possessing no judgment or discretion 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.

"If time were money," he said, handling his snuff-box, "I
would compound my creditors, and give them — let me see —
how much a day ? There's my nap after dinner — an hour —
they're extremely welcome 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 surveying him from top
to toe, "I am delighted to see you, and to have, in your being
here, the very best proof that 3'ou are not kept out. How
are you ? "

" I'm well enough," said Hugh impatiently.

BAENABY BUDGE. 199

"You look a perfect marvel of health. Sit down."

" I'd rather stand," said Hugli.

"Please yourself, my good fellow," returned ^Ir. Chester ris-
ing, 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 creat'ure," returned Mr. Chester, "you are a
little ruffled and out of humor. I'll wait till you're quite
3'ourself again. I am in no hurry."

This behavior had its intended effect. It humbled and
abashed the man, and made hiih still more irresolute and
uncertain. Hard words he could have returned, violence he
would have repaid with interest ; 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 tlie soft persuasive accents of the other ; his
rude bearing, and Mr. Chester's polished manner; the dis-
order and negligence 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 tliat gave him
leisure to observe these things, and feel how ill at ease they
made him ; 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 encourage-
ment in its expression, said at length, with a rough attempt
at conciliation.

".4re you going to speak to me, master, or am I to go
away ? "

" Speak you," said ISFr. Chester, " speak you, good fellow.
I have spoken, have I not ? I am waiting for you."

200 B All NAB Y BUDGE.

"Why, look'ee, sir," returned Hugh with increased em-
barrassment, "am I the man that you privately left your
whip with before you rode away from the IVlaypole, 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 last epistle.
The very letter that had cost her so much trouble.

" Did 3' ou 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 ? "

" 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 hesitation.

" 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 anything
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.

BABNABY BUDGE. 201

"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.

" I call that quite another thing," said Mr. Chester 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 man}^ 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 possibly do it
without being invited if you went on much further," said Mr.
Chester with great composure, " 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 alwaj's am. Why not ?
Ha ha ha ! What's so good to me as tliis ? Wliat 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 man, when men
would have left me to die, a puny chihl ? I should never
have had a man's heart but for this. I should have died in

202 BARNABT BUDGE.

a ditch. "Where's he who when I Avas 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 ]\Ir.
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 sufficiently
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 j^oung enough
to escape what I may call a natural death for some years to
come. How can you trust yourself in my hands on so short
an acquaintance, with a halter round your neck. What a con-
fiding nature yours must be ! "

Hugh fell back a pace or two and surveyed him with a look
of mingled terror, indignation, and surprise. Regarding him-
self 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, —

"Kobbery 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 203

this transitory world, it seldom lasts long. And really if, in
the ingenuousness of youth, you open your heart so readily on
the subject, I am afraid your career will be an extremely
short one. 'I

"How's this?" said Hugh. "What do you talk of,
master ? AYho 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 questioner
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
questioned 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 ascendency 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 wlio came there
rioting in the confidence of this man (as lie thouglit), sliould
be so soon and so thoroughly subdued, Hugh stood cowering
before him, regarding him uneasily from time to time, while
he finished dressing. When he had done so, he took up the

204 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 disinterested-
ness, 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 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 w4th 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 w4th 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 stealthily
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 something ap-
proaching to a bow. " I drink to you."

" Thank you. God bless you. By-the-by, what is jonv
name, my good soul ? You are called Hugh, I know, of
course — your other name ? "

" 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 ? "

BARNABY BUDGE. 205

''Td tell it if I could," said Hugh quickly. "I cairt.
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 conde-
scending 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, looking 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 have 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.

"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. I^ow 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

206 SARNABY nuDGE.

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 summoned his man, who
promptly attended, followed by a chair and its two bearers.

'- Foh ! " said Mr. Chester. '^ The very atmosphere 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 mixture u])on 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.

BAttNABY BUDGE. ^0'

CHAPTER XXIV.

How the accomplislied gentleman spent the evening 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 re-
flected ; 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 repelled by the object of their lavisli
regard ; are things of course, which will suggest tliemselves.
Matter so commonplace needs but a passing glance, and there
an end.

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 unappreciated, make up one class ;
they who receive adulation and flattery, knowing their own
worthlessness, 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 contemptuous 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

208 BARNABY BUDGE.

whereof was inscribed in pretty large text these words : " A
friend. Desiring of a conference. Immediate. 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 tlie 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, who, humble as his appearance is, has
inn'ard workings far above his station.''

IVIr. 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. Tap-
pertit bowed again, and displayed his legs to the best ad-
vantage.

" 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 permit 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 209

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, producing 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 sub-
stitute that circumstances 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 a graceful
air, "you will meet with my credentials."

"Thank you," answered Mr. Chester, politely accepting,
and turning to some blood-red characters 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 connection with myself or family.
Your name, sir," said Mr. Tappertit, looking very hard at his
nightcap, " 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 ]\Ir. Chester, "has that com-
plicated piece of ironmongery which you have done me the
favor to bring with 3'ou, 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 bed-
room 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 liis face. Sim Tappertit, wlio liad far too good
an o[)inion of himself to suspect that anybody could be play-

210 BAHNABY BUDGE.

ing upon him, thouglit within himself that this was some-
thing like the respect to which he was entitled, 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. Tappertit, " I
am aware, sir, that your son keeps company 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 you, 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 de-
grading duties, wholly unconnected 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
consider 'thank'ee, 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 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 Maypole,
lettering, and messaging, and fetching and carrying, 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.

BABNABY BUDGE. 211

" N'ow, 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 gentleman like you '' —

" Mr. Tappertit — really " —

" No, no, I'm serious," rejoined the 'prentice, " I am, upon
my soul. If an honest, civil, smiling gentlefnan 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 for-
ever. 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 nothing ever will prevent her. Mind
that."

" Mr. Tappertit, your knowledge of human nature " —

"Wait a minute," said Sim, folding his arms with a
dreadful calmness. " Kow, 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 carried off at the very least —
nothing less will do — will marry your son to that young
woman, as certainly 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
backwards 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 crunching noise with his teeth; "if sich a
thing is possible."

" A little private vengeance in this, Mr. Tappertit ? "

"Private vengeance, sir, or public sentiment, or both com-
bined— destroy him," said Mr. Tappertit. "Miggs says
so too. Miggs and me both say so. We can't bear tlie
plotting and undermining that takes place. Our souls recoil
from it. Barnaby Rudge and Mrs. Rudge are in it like-
wise ; but the villain, Joseph Willet, is the ringleader.
Their plottings and schemes are known to me and Mi

'oo

212 BABXABY BUDGE.

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
reph^ and to hold it as a necessary consequence of his elo-
quence that his hearer should be utterly stunned, dumb-
foundered, and overwhelmed, folded his arms so that the
palm of each hand rested on the opposite shoulder, and dis-
appeared after the manner of those mysterious warners of
whom he had read in cheap story-books.

" 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 people. 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.

BARNABY BUDGE. 213

CHAPTER XXV.

Leaving the favored, and well-received, and flattered of
the world; him of the world most worldly, who never com-
promised himself by an ungentlemanly 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, fluttered here and there, now leav-
ing 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 flve-barred gate ; now run with surprising swiftness
for a mile or more on the straight road, 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 enjoy-
ment of an idiot. It is something to know that Heaven has
left the ca])acity of gladness in such a creature's breast; it is
something to be assured that, however lightly men may crush

214 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 j^our view, the lesson it would
teach. Its pictures are not in black and sombre hues, but
bright and glowing 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 heavilj^ with
secret dread and sorrow ; but her boy's gayety of heart glad-
dened 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 exist-
ence ; and for two and twenty years had never had courage
to revisit it. It was her native village. How many recollec-
tions 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, watch-
ing for the dawn of mind that never came ; how had she
feared, and doubted, and yet hoped, long after conviction
forced itself upon her I The little stratagems she had devised
to try him, the little tokens he had given in his childish way

— not of dulness but of something infinitely worse, so ghastly

BABXABY BUDGE. 215

and uncliild-like in its cunning — came back as vividly as if
but yesterday had intervened. The room in which they used
to be ; the spot in whicli 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 uncouth song as she sat
by and rocked him; every circumstance of his infancy came
thronging back, and the most trivial, perhaps, the most dis-
tinctly.

His older childhood, too ; the strange imaginings 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 childhood 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 tha't, and wondered
at its alteration, 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 remembered to have done
with their fathers and mothers, round some silly beggar-man,
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 tlie 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."

"You mean," said ]\Ir. Haredale, regarding her with some

216 BARXABY BUDGE.

surprise, " that having made this effort, you are resolved not
to persevere and are determined to relapse ? This is un-
worthy of you. I have often told you, you should return
here. You would be happier here than elsewhere, I know.
As to Brrnaby, 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. Haredale, cried — as a hint, per-
haps, 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 yoii with him, sir !" she cried.

"Iftdeed," 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 probable you
may, without being conscious of it," said Mr. Haredale,
speaking more to himself than her. " 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 I "

BABNABT BUDGE. 217

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 condescending 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 if surprised by the
energy of her manner. Observing, 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 liad sat down in his
easy-chair, and was contemplating her with fixed attention.

218 BARNABT BUDGE.

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 knocking at the glass ; wore,
beyond all others in the house, a ghostly, gloomy air. Nor
were the group assembled there, untitting tenants of the
spot. The widow, with her marked and startling face and
downcast eyes ; ^fr. 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 wall ; 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. Haredale, 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 interest 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 to assign for conduct
so extraordinary, which — if one may entertain the possibility

BABNABT BUDGE. 219

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. IVIy 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 all have bitter reason to remember,
in unchanging devotion, 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 perhaps, 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 distant ! "

"Let me be sure," said Mr. Haredale, "that I understand
you, for I am doubtful of my own senses. Do you mean
that you are resolved voluntarily to 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 reason or monstrous
fancy which is incapable of explanation, which only now ex-
ists, and has been dormant all this time ? In the name of
God, under wdiat 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 w^alls drip blood, my name being spoken in tlieir
hearing ; I never will again subsist upon their bounty, or let

220 BABNABY BULGE.

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 associates 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 believe that I am rather
to be pitied than condemned. I must leave my house to-
morrow, for while I stay there it is haunted. My future
dwelling, 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 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 Avith many soothing words and kind entreaties be-
sought her to consider what she did, and above all to repose
more freely upon them, and say what weighed so sorely on
her mind. Finding her deaf to their persuasions, Mr.
Haredale suggested, as a last resource, that she should
confide in Emma, of whom, as a young person and one of her
own sex, she might stand in less dread than of himself. From
this proposal, however, she recoiled with the same indescrib-
able repugnance she had manifested when they met. The
utmost that could be wrung from her was, a promise that she

BARNABY BUDGE. 221

would receive Mr. Haredale at her ovv'ii 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 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 private 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 pre-
tending to read hard, was listening to everything. He still
appeared to have the conversation very strongly in his mind,
for although 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 agreeable, or being what is commonly called good
company.

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 INIaypole. 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. Haredale might, on second
thoughts, despatch some messenger to that place of entertain-
ment in quest of her, proposed to wait in the church^^ard
instead. As it was easy for Barnaby to buy and carry
thither such humble viands as they required, he cheerfully
assented, and in the churchyard 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 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 inspection of an epitaph, he would strop his beak upon
the grave to which it referred, and cry in his hoarse tones,

222 BARNABY BUDGE.

" I'm a devil, I'm a devil, I'm a devil ! " but whether he
addressed his observations to any supposed 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. Keuben 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 general (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 sluggishly 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 the peace of man-
kind ; as restless, bustling, busy, horn-blowing contrivances,
quite beneath the dignity 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

BARNABY BUDGE.

'^^.^

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.

BAENABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXVI.

" And you're not surprised to hear this, Varden ? " said
I\Ir. Haredale. " Well ! You and she have ahvays 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
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 prevented me
— held me, with all her strength, and hung about me until he
had got clear off." And having gone so far, he related circum-
stantially all that had passed upon the night in question.

This dialogue was held in a low tone in the locksmith's
little parlor into which honest Gabriel had shown his visitor

BABNABY BUDGE. 225

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 circumstance
the conversation had arisen.

"I forebore,'' 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 w^ords. 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 ? "

The locksmith shook his head, and looked doubtfully out of
window at the failing light.

" She cannot have married again," said Mr. Haredale.

" 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 improbable, 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 yester-
day, and would quite explain her conduct. Do you suppose
Barnaby is privy to these circumstances ? "

" Quite impossible to say, sir," returned the locksmith,
shaking his head again : " and next to impossible 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 ?

VOL. I.

226 BARNABT BUDGE.

It is not possible that this connection was formed in her hus-
band'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, hand-
some, 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
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 brightest 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 Avith her fresh heart and face — do
her that justice — and say whether such a thing is possible."

" You're a good fellow, Varden," said Mr. Haredale, " and
are quite right. I have brooded on that subject sa long, that
every breath of suspicion carries 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 Rudge, and failed, that I say she was too good for him.
She would have been as much too good for me. But she ivas
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 par-
don 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
doomsday ! "

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

BAENABT BUDGE. 227

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 casement 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 infirmities ? 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."

Mr. Haredale, whose face resumed its lowering and dis-
trustful look the moment he heard the voice, inclined his
head stiffly, and turned his back upon the speaker.

" Xot 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 who had
opened the door, he inquired for Mrs. Budge — for Barnaby.
They were both gone, she replied, wagging her ancient liead,
for good. There was a gentleman in the ])arlor, who perhaps
could tell them more. That was all she knew.

Nir

228 BARXABY BUDGE.

"Pray, sir," said Mr. Haredale, presenting himself 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 sup-
pressed 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
w4th walking. Sit down, I beg. Our friend is " —

" Is but a plain honest man," returned Mr. Haredale, " and
quite unworthy of your notice."

" Gabriel Yarden by name, sir," said the locksmith bluntly.

"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. Yarden, my good friend, I am glad to know you. You
wonder now," he said, turning languidly to Mr. Haredale, "to
see me here. iSTow, 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. AYill you step aside with me one instant.
You remember our little compact in reference to I^ed, and
your dear niece, Haredale ? You remember the list of
assistants in their innocent 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 ^Ir. 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 ? AYho 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 ? "

BABNABY BUDGE. 229

" My dear fellow — and you must permit me to say again,
that you never looked so young ; so positively 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 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 tenement is yours, your good-nature will
excuse that, Haredale, I am certain ! "

230 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 occasionall}^ glancing 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 description 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 tantamount to a dis-
missal, 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, Varden," 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. " jVIay 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

BARXABY BUDGE. 231

carries its own punishment along with it — a bear tliat gnaws
himself. And here is one of the inestimable advantages of
having a perfect 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 unworthy any man with the
remotest pretensions to delicacy of feeling, or refinement."

He smiled so very pleasantly as he communed with him-
self 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 graciously dismissed him with a fervent blessing.

"Which is as easy as cursing," he wisely added, as he took
his seat, " and more becoming to the face. — To Clerkenwell,
my good creatures, if you please ! " The chairmen were
rendered quite vivacious 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 lamp-light, in a corner of the workshop,
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 key-stone of prosperity. Mr. Tappertit, I shall expect you
to invite me to dinner when you are Lord ]\[ayor 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 everything that belongs to liim.

232 BARNABT BUDGE.

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 ]\Irs. Varden at home ? " said Mr. Chester.

"Sir," returned Sim, eying him over with a look of
concentrated expression, — " she is. Did you wish to see
her ? "

Mr. Chester nodded.

" 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 any-
thing, looked hard at him, applied 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 parlor 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 postscript 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. Only think of that, mim ! "

"Is it possible," said ]Mr. Chester in his softest tones,

BARNABY BUDGE. 233

" that this is Mrs. Varden ! I am amazed. That is not your
daughter, ^Mrs. Varden ? Xo, 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 tliis 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
^Ir. Chester's face, refined and polished though it sought to
be, which distressed her very much. As she stood with down-
cast 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."

" Ah ! " sighed Mrs. V., shaking her head.

'' Ah ! " echoed ^riggs.

" Is that the case ? " said Mr. Chester, compassionately.
« 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 appre-
ciate. But we never, sir" — said Miggs, looking sidewa3's at
Mrs. Varden, and interlarding her discourse with a sigh —
" we never know the full value of so?ne wines and fig-trees
till we lose 'em. So much the worse, sir, for them as has the

234 BAB NAB Y BUDGE.

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 intended 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 neigboring
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 lettered 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 remember " — (this
clause was strictly true) "have I deduced 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 gentle-
man he was.

" 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 partake 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 thinejs. Let us be sincere and

BARNABY BUDGE. 235

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 tangible ; we throw up a groundwork and founda-
tion, so to speak, of goodness, on which we may afterwards
erect some worthy superstructure."

Now, to be sure, Mrs. Varden thought, here is a perfect
character. Here is a meek, righteous, thorough-going Chris-
tian, who, having mastered all these qualities, so difficult of
attainment ; who, having dropped a pinch of salt on the tails
of all the cardinal virtues, and caught them every one ; makes
light of their possession, and pants for more morality. 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 certain virtuous maxims, some-
what vague and general in their nature, doubtless, and occa-
sionally partaking 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 en-
chanted all his hearers, notwithstanding 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

236 BARNABT RVBGE.

he was the sweetest-spoken gentleman she had 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 think-
ing, had never been so improved in all her life : and when
Mr. Chester, rising and craving permission to speak with her
apart, took her by the hand and led her at arm's length
up-stairs to the best sitting-room, she almost deemed him
something more than human.

"Dear madam," he said, pressing her hand delicately to
his lips ; " be seated."

Mrs. Varden called up quite a courtly air, and became
seated.

''You guess my object?" said Mr. Chester, drawing a
chair towards her. " You divine my purpose ? 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 slightl}^ 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 3^ou," said Mr. Chester, "without re-
serve. 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 very kind of you it was to do so. I am deeply
obliged to you — most deeply obliged to you — for your inter-
est 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. "' Xever be sorry
for what is so very amiable, so very good in intention, so
perfectly like yourself. But there are grave and weighty

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BARNABY BUDGE. 237

reasons, pressing family considerations, and apart even from
these, points of religious difference, which interpose them-
selves, and render their union impossible ; utterly im-possible.
I should have mentioned these circumstances to your hus-
band ; but he has — you will excuse my saying this so freely

— he has 7iot your quickness of apprehension 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
inexpressible 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. Yarden ; ''a
great deal more. I have often had my doubts. It's a " —

"A bad example," suggested Mr. Chester. "It is. Xo
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 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 some-
thing to deserve this compliment — iirmly 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 obliga-
tion, to marry some one else."

"Engaged to marry another lady!" quoth ^Irs. Yarden,
holding up her hands.

"My dear madam, brought up, educated, and trained,

238 BABNABY BUDGE.

expressly for that j^urpose. 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. Vardeu.

" 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 happiness. 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 conventionalities of society, very seldom have.
Their hearts never grow, my dear ma'am, till after thirty. I
don't believe, no, I do 7iot believe, that I had any heart
m}' self when I was Ned's age."

"Oh, sir," said Mrs. Yarden, "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,
'-1 have a little ; I hope, a very little — Heaven knows ! But
to return to Ned : I have no doubt you thought, and therefore
interfered benevolently in his behalf, that I objected to Miss
Haredale. How very natural ! My dear madam, I object to
him — to him — emj^hatically to Ned himself."

Mrs. Varden was perfectly aghast at the disclosure.

" He has, if he honorably fulfils this solemn obligation 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 accus-
tomed, 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.

BARXAIIY RUDGE. 239

But," she added aloud, and not unnaturally, " if you take
Miss Emma's lover away, sir, what becomes of the poor
thing's heart, then ? "

"The very point," said Mr. Chester, not at all abashed,
"to which I wished to lead you. A marriage 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 twelvemonth. 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 down-stairs,
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
reasoned thus with your husband when I saw him at Mrs.
Rudge's this evening" —

" ^Fy husband,'' said ]\rrs. Varden, interposing with emotion,
" would be a great deal better at liome than going to Mrs.
Rudge's so often. I don't know what \w, does there. I don't
see what occasion 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, " (piite 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

240 BARNABY BUDGE.

whom the whole management, conduct, and prosperity of her
family are centred, I perceive."

With that he took Mrs. Varden's hand again, and having
pressed it to his lips Avith the high-flown gallantr}^ 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 promotion 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 defensive, 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 conducted her down-stairs
in the same state as before ; and having repeated the previous
ceremony of salutation, 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, mini," said ]\Iiggs, returning with the candle. " Oh
gracious me, mim, there's a gentleman ! 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 smilingly indeed — re-
marking 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 manner, "I half

BABNABT RUDGE. 241

believe Mr. Chester is something like ^liggs 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 presence, ^liss," 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," 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 !

VOL. I.

242 BAENABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Repairing to a noted coffee-house in Covent Garden when
he left the locksmith's, ,Mr. Chester sat long over a late
dinner, entertaining himself exceedingly with the whimsical
recollection of his recent proceedings, and congratulating him-
self 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.

He opened the glass of the dull lamp, whose wick, burned
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 lazy 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 slumber-
ing soundly. Having lighted the candle at length and opened
his own door, he softly ascended, holding the taper high above

BARNABT BUDGE. 243

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 disturbed 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 start-
ing or turning round, awoke. There was a 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 3'ou shiver ? "

" The — the cold, 1 suppose," he growled, as he shook him-
self, and rose. " I hardly know where I am yet."

" Do you know me ? " said Mr. Chester.

"Ay. I know you," he answered. '• I was dreaming of
you — we're not where I thouglit we were. That's a comfort."

He looked round him as he spoke, and in particular looked
above his head, as though he half expected to be standing
under some object which had had existence in his dream.
Then he rubbed his eyes and shook liimself again, and
followed liis conductor into his own rooms.

244 BAR NAB Y BUDGE.

Mr. Chester lighted the candles which stood upon his dress-
ing-table, and wheeling an easy-chair towards the fire, which
was yet burning, stirred up a cheerful 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 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 highway,"
said Mr. Chester, composedly. " Yes ; what of her ? "

BAliNABY RUDGE. 245

" She wrote a note at our liouse to tlie young woman, say-
ing 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 ^Ir.
Chester, twirling Dolly's note between his linger and thumb,
and feigning to be surprised.

"I supposed you'd want to have it," retorted Hugh. -'Burn
one, burn all, I thought."

" ]\[y 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 descry no difference between his letters and those addressed
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."

"1 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. — Tliem that the foot-
path crosses."

"If the weather should be fine, I may throw myself 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 tlie favor
only to have seen me once. You must suppress your grati-
tude, and endeavor to forget my forbearance in tlie matter of
the bracelet. It is natural it should break out, and it does
you honor; but when other folks are b}^, you must, 'for your
own sake and safety,- be as like your usual self as thougli you
owed me no obligation whatever, and lind never stood within
these walls. You comj)relien(l iiic '.' "'

246 BARNABT RUDGE.

Hugh understood him perfectly. After a pause he muttered
that he hoped his patrou 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 forbearance
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 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 interview, 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

BABNABT BUDGE. 247

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 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 stair-
case, 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
mornino:.

248 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXIX.

The thoughts of worldly men are forever regulated by a
moral law of gravitation, which, like the physical one, holds
them down to earth. The brigltt 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 constellations as Charity, Forbearance,
Universal Love, and Mercy, although they shine by night and
day so brightly that the blind may see them ; and who, look-
ing 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 in 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 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 249

sparkled on each 3'oung 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 complacently
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 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 quick-
ness of apprehension, 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 tlian 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, givii^g his
bridle to Hugh as he dismounted, and acknowledging liis
salute by a careless motion of his hand towards his hat.
" Why don't you make him useful ? "

'' Why, the truth is, sir," replied John with great impor-

250 BARNABT BUDGE.

taiice, "that my son — what, you're a listening are yon,
villain ? " "

" Who's listening ? " returned Hugh angrily. " A treat,
indeed, to hear i/ou speak ! Would you have me take liiin 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 enter-
taining ourselves with talk, keep 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," answered 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 MJiypole
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 imagi-
nation, sir," —

" He's an active fellow now, I dare swear," said Mr.
Chester, in a musing tone, which seemed to suggest that he
would have said the same had there been nobody to hear
him.

" Active, sir ! " retorted John, with quite an expression
in his face ; " that chap ! Halloa there ! You, sir ! Bring
that horse here, and go and hang my wig on the weather-
cock, to show this gentleman whether you're one of the lively
sort or not."

BABNABY BUDGE. 251

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 rapidity, alighted on his feet almost
as soon as it had touched the earth.

"There, sir,'' said John, relapsing into his usual stolid
state, "3'ou won't see that at many houses, besides the
Maypole, where there's good accommodation for man and
beast — nor that neither, though that with him is nothing."

This last remark bore reference to his vaulting on horse-
back, as upon ^Ir. Chester's first visit, and quickly disappear-
ing by the stable gate.

^'That with him is nothing," repeated Mr. Willet, brushing
his wig with his wrist, and in^vardly resolving 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 bones.
It's my opinion, sir, that it's pretty nearly all owing to his
not having any imagination ; and that if imagination couhl
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."

"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 liis
taking his guest by the third breast button of his coat, count-
ing downwards from the chin, and pouring his reply into
his ear, —

"Sir," whispered John, with dignity, "I know my duty.

252 BAR NAB Y BULGE.

We want no love-making here, sir, unbeknown to parents.
I respect a certain young gentleman, taking him in the light
of a young gentleman ; 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 patrol."

" I thought I saw him looking through the corner window
but this moment," said Mr. Chester, who naturally thought
that being on patrol, implied walking about somewhere.

" Ko doubt you did, sir," returned John. " He is upon his
patrol 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 anything unpleasant in opposing your desires ; and
we've put him on his patrol. And what's more, sir, he
won't be off his patrol for a pretty long time to come, I can
tell you that."

When he had communicated this briglit idea, which had
had its origin in the perusal by the village cronies of a news-
paper, containing among other matters, an account of how
some officer pending the sentence of some court-martial had
been enlarged on parole, Mr. Willet drew back from his
guest's ear, and without any visible alteration of feature,
chuckled thrice audibly. This nearest approach 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, tremendous 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 jocularity, 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 cus-

BARNABY BUDGE. 253

tomer than the j^oung 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 the
younger gentleman flying upwards to the ceiling. 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 complimentary
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 ; com-
posing 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 unexpectedly
accosted by a stranger ; and answered, " Yes."

" Something told me," he said, looking a comidiment 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

254 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 conv^ersation 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 in-
clined 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 suffered 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, sitting down
beside her. " Edward is well — quite well. It is of him I
wish to speak, certainly ; but I have no misfortune to com-
municate.'*

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 disadvantage, 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 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 besought her in such
persuasive accents to hear him but another minute, that she
was easily prevailed upon to comply, and so sat down again.

BARNABY RUDGE. 255

" And it is/' said Mr. Chester, looking upward, and
apostrophizing the air ; '• it is this frank, ingenuous, noble
nature, Xed, that you can wound so lightly. Shame — shame
upon you, boy ! "

She turned towards him quickly, and with a scornful look
and flashing eyes. There were tears in Mr. Chester's, but he
dashed them hurriedly away, as though unwilling that his
weakness 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 3^our
worth ; 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 sustain this interview could I have
pictured you to my imagination as you really are."

Oh ! If ^Irs. Varden could have seen the virtuous gentle-
man as he said these words, with indignation 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 sunlight, 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 ottV' said ^Ir. 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 Haredale, to remember that.
Your uncle and myself were enemies in early life, and if T
had sought retaliation, I might have found it here. But as

256 BABXABY BUDGE.

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 plainl}', sir," she faltered. " You deceive me, or
are deceived yourself. I do not believe you — I cannot — I
should not."'

'^ First," said ^Ir. Chester, soothingly, ''for there may be in
your mind some latent angry feeling to w^hich 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, w4th
great emotion, ''that there should be in your gentle breast
one causeless ground of quarrel Avith 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 — some-
thing 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 quite \nenerable accents ; " I would, dear girl, it
W'Cre my task to banish, not increase, those tokens of your
grief. My son, my erring son, — I will not call him deliber-
ately criminal in this, for men so 3'oung, who have been in-
constant twice or thrice before, act without reflection, almost
without a knowledge of the wrong they do, — will break his
plighted faith to you ; has broken it even now. Shall I stop
here, and having given you this w\arning, 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 daughter, but
the Fates forbid, Edward seeks to break with you upon a
false and most unwarrantable 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 257

me. There lies on his desk at this moment, ready for trans-
mission 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, vol-
untarily 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 your-
self and gave it birth in wounded vanit}', 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 rejoined, '- If what you
say be true, he takes much needless 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 j^oung 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 de-
lighted to see you, although we meet under singular circum-
stances, and upon a melancholy occasion. I hope you are
very well."

At these words the young lady raised her eyes, which were
filled with tears ; and seeing that her uncle indeed stood
before them, and being quite unequal 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 retreating
figure, and for a long time neither of them spoke.

"What does this mean? Explain it," said Mr. Haredale
at length. " Why are 3'ou here, and why with lier ? "

"]\Iy dear friend," rejoined the other, resuming his accus-
tomed 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 proprietor (and a most charming establisliment it is
for persons of rural pursuits and in robust health, who are
not liable to take cold), that I had the liead and heart of an

258 BARNABY BUDGE.

evil spirit in all matters of deception. I thought at the time ;
I really did think ; you flattered me. But now I begin to
wonder at your discernment, 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. " But 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 nut-
shell. Ned has written her a letter — a boyish, honest, senti-
mental composition, which remains as yet in his desk, because
he hasn't had the heart to send it. I have taken a liberty,
for which my parental affection and anxiety are a sufficient
excuse, and possessed myself of the contents. I have described
them to your niece (a most enchanting person, Haredale ; quite
an angelic creature), 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 mediators ;
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,

BARNABT BUDGE. 259

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 believe you. When I am most remorseful for
this treachery, I will think of you and your marriage, and try
to justify myself in such remembrances, for having torn
asunder Emma and your sou, 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 scape-goat 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; for-
tune 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 maij 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 extremity — 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 to i)oint 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.

260 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXX.

A HOMELY proverb recognizes the existence of a trouble-
some 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
purpose than to teach mankind that as the absence of pain is
pleasure, so the earth purged of their presence, 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 conquest knew no bounds. The
more 3'oung Joe submitted, 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
majesty, as the most glorious tyrant that ever had his 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
dependents, so old John was impelled to these exercises of
authority by the applause and admiration of his Maypole
cronies, who, in the intervals 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 was
no mistake about him; that it would be well for the country

BARNABY BUDGE. 2G1

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 would further remark,
with looks of great significance, that but for this judicious
bringing up, he might have never been the man he was at
that present 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 fellow so bullied, badgered, wor-
ried, fretted, and browbeaten ; so constantly beset, or made
so tired of his life, as poor Joe Willet.

This had come to be the recognized and established state of
things ; but as John was very anxious to flourish his suprem-
acy before the eyes of IVIr. 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 engaged, 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 down-stairs
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 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 Jolin, '^ none of tliat. 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 yourself again ? What do you mean,
sir?"

"Let me go, father," said .Inr, iinploriiigly, as lie markt'd

262 BARXABY BUDGE.

the smile upon their visitor's face, and observed 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 fare-
well bow to the visitor with the other, " that wants to sneak
into houses, and stir up differences between noble gentlemen
and their sons, are you, eh ? Hold your tongue, sir."

Joe made no effort to reply. It ^vas the crowning circum-
stance 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 compli-
ments 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 unspeak-
able consternation of his hearers, " When I want encourage-
ment 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."

" Don't take it ill, Johnny ; I didn't mean any harm,"
pleaded the little man.

ajr^li^^^ ) 1^

rn

*■" yy.vX *

4 'J^'^— - M? y^

BARNABY BUDGE. 2G3

"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 ]\Ir. 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 recommend 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 ^Ir. Willett, suddenly rous-
ing, 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, ]\rr. 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, which he would
have peacefully preserved until the house shut up at night,
but that 'Mv. Cobb, stimulated by tlie 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,
pummelled him with all his miglit and main, and finished by
driving him with surprising swiftness against a heap of spit-
toons 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

264 BARN A BY BUDGE.

had won, he retreated to his own bed-chamber, and consider-
ing 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 for evermore — it's all

over I

f "

BARNABT BUDGE. 265

CHAPTER XXXI.

PoxDERiNG on his iiiiliappy lot, Joe sat and listened 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 peo-
ple 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 down-
stairs, no nearer sound disturbed 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 hospital 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 mysterious
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, 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 fell sound asleep. There was such a hush and
mystery about everything, that Joe could not help following
its example; 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 liad
ceased, and out of doors all was (juiet too ; save for tlie occa-

266 BABNABT BUDGE.

sional barking of some deep-mouthed dog, and the shaking of
the branches by the night wind. He gazed mournfully out
of window 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
alread}^ 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.

It was not a ver}^ 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 affectionate 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 sanguine and
sometimes melancholy, but always had her for their main
point and centre, pushed on vigorously until the noise of
London sounded in his ears, and the Black Lion hove in
sight.

BARNABY BUDGE. 267

It was only eight o'clock then, and very much astonished
the Black Lion was, to see hiui 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 received liim, as
usual, with a hospitable welcome ; and treated him with those
marks of distinction, which, as a regular customer, and one
within 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. Willett'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 surprising perfection.
The creaking Lion over the house-door was, therefore, to say
the truth, rather a drowsy, tame, and fee])le 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 fre-
quently 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.

"And T wish," said the Lion, ''he was anywhere else but
here. The party make noise enough, but they don't call for

26S BARNABY BUDGE.

much. There's great cry there, Mr. Willett, but very little
wool. Your father wouldn't like 'em, / 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 between 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 indifference. "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 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, revered, respected ; everybody's fond of you, and
grateful to you ; your name's wrote down at full length in a
book in the War-ofhce. Damme, gentlemen, 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 260

had gathered together in the tap-room, and were listening
with greedy ears. One of them, a carter in a smock frock,
seemed wavering and disposed 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 arguments,
and grinned among themselves. '- 1 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. Tlie king's not come to
that, I hope. Brisk young blood is what we want ; not milk
and water. We won't take live 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-naturedly, that Joe beckoned
him out. He came directly.

. " You're a gentlema.n, by G ! " was his first remark, as

he slapped him on the back. " You're a gentleman in dis-
guise. 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'U
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 soldier-
ing 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

270 BARNABY BUDGE.

compliment, but thank you all the same. Do I look like a
sneaking fellow or a liar ? "

The sergeant rejoined with many choice asseverations 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 consider it a meritorious action.

Joe expressed his obligations, and continued, " You can
trust me then, and credit what I say. 1 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 settle-
ment of the business, that his quarters would be at the
Crooked Billet in Tower Street ; where he would be found
waking until midnight, 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 country 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 sergeant, 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 unhappy home. For the
present, good-by."

" For king and country ! " cried the sergeant, flourishing
his cap.

" For bread and meat ! " cried Joe, snapping his fingers.
And so they parted.

He had very little money in his pocket ; so little indeed.

BARNABY BUDGE. 271

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
waylaid 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 accom-
modation. Rejecting his offers both of cash and credit, Joe
walked away with stick and bundle as before, bent upon get-
ting through the day as he best could, and going down to the
locksmith's in the dusk of the evening ; for it sliould 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 sl^^nes 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 sympa-
thy with humankind. They only ring for money and on state
occasions. Wanderers have increased in number ; ships leave
the Thames for distant regions, carr3ang 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 tliat 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 Fairies are dead and buried, there are still a great many
purses which possess that quality. The sum-total they con-
tain 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 witli
Miggs for her sole attenrlant, to lectures in the evening ; and
devoutly hoping that this might be one of her nights of moral
culture.

272 BARN AST BUDGE.

He had walked up and down before the house, on the
opposite side of the way, two or three times, when as he re-
turned 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 — perhaps 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, 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 married, 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 ; perhaps 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
tiiat gallant coachmaker 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 re-
marked 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."

BARXABT BUDGE. 2T3

Dolly was more sorry than slie 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 I " cried Joe.

All I Good gracious, what did the man expect ! 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 ex-
pected to take Dolly up again at the very point where he had
left her after that delicious 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 burst-
ing 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 earnest-
ness as ever man loved woman in this world, I do believe. I
am a poor 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

VOL. I.

274 BAENABY BUDGE.

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 nature, and a
spoiled child. She had no notion of being carried by storm in
this way. The coachmaker 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 again, waited a little longer, went up-stairs
humming 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 contradictions, 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 afterwards
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 confessed, with
a brown paper cap stuck negligently on one side of its head,
and its arms very much akimbo.

BABNABY BUDGE. 275

" Have my ears deceived me," said the 'Prentice, " or do I
dream ! am I to thank thee, Fortun', or to cus 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, 'Het 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 vise, which in his mind's eye
represented the sconce or head of Joseph Willet. That done,
he burst into a peal of laughter which startled Miss IMiggs
even in her distant 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 smothering 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 liouse 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 ^lajesty 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 liis
martial friend had decorated his hat with sundr}' 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

276 BAENABY BUDGE.

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, had his dusty stick and bundle. The
party embarked in a passage-boat bound for Gravesend,
whence they were to proceed on foot to Chatham ; the Avind
was in their favor, and they soon left London behind them,
a mere dark mist — a giant phantom in the air.

BABNABY BUDGE, 277

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 And,
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 desert 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.

Edward was reserved and silent, Mr. Chester was more than
usually gay ; but not caring, as it seemed, to open a conversa-
tion 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

278 BAENAIiY EUDGE.

to the decanter. Suffer that to circulate, 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 influences. It brightens the eye, improves the voice,
imparts a new vivacity to one^s thoughts and conversation :
3"0u should try it, Xed."

" 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 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 monstrous 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 — whi-ch 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 allu-
sions should be left to gentlemen 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 sometimes stabbed

BABNABY BUDGE. 279

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."

" Xo 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 meaning. " No
doubt in your mind she was all heart once. Now she has
none at all. Yet she is the same person, Ned, exactly."

" She is a changed person, sir," cried Edward, reddening ;
"and changed by vile means, I believe."

" 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 treacherously
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 want 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 lad}'' herself, she has done what is very
natural and proper, my dear fellow ; what you yourself pro-
posed, 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, ^tarriage is a civil contract ; people marry to better
their worldly condition and improve appearances ; it is an
aifair 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 con-
siderations, and have no manner of business with the cere-

280 BARNABT BUDGE.

mony. I drink her health in this glass, and respect and
honor her for her extreme good-sense. It is a lesson to you.
rill yours, Ned."

"It is a lesson," returned his son, ''by which I hope I
may never profit, and if years and their experience 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. "Eorgive 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 you, entertaining low and disobedient sentiments, he
disinherited and cursed one morning after breakfast. The
circumstance occurs to me with a singular clearness of recol-
lection this evening. I remember eating mufiins 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 measures."

" 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 dis-
obey. Dear father,'' he added, more earnestly though in a
gentler tone, " I have reflected many times on what occurred

BARNABY BUDGE. 281

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 endure. 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, 3^ou 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."

"You are so very irreligious, so exceedingly undutiful, 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 con-
tinue to go on, upon such terms as these. If j^ou will do
me the favor to ring the bell, the servant will show you to
the door. Return to this roof no more, I beg you. Go, sir,
since you have no moral sense remaining ; 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, ]\Ir. Edward ? "

" Were there more than one, dolt, that you ask the ques-
tion ? — 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."

282 BARNABY BUDGE.

So, it soon got whispered about, that ]\Ir. 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, 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,
concerninsr which this Narrative is silent.

BARNABY BUDGE.

283

TER XXXITI.

jb o

XE 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 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 up-stairs, yet
loved to hear the wind moan too, and hoped it would continue
bravely. From time to time these hai)py in-door people
stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried "Hark I"
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 tliougli a giant's hand were on
them; then a hoarse roar as if the sea had risen; then such

284 BAUNABY BUDGE.

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 crunching
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
chimneys, 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 confl.ict.

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 flickering 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
offering, let the eye wander where it might, interminable
vistas of the same rich color. The old oak wainscoting, 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

BABNABY BUDGE. 285

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. But
certain it is that old John AVillet, 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 neighbor 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 ^fr. Willet came to
another knot — one of surpassing obduracy — which bade fair
to throw him into convulsions, but wliich he got over at last
without waking, by an effort quite superhuman.

"He sleeps uncommon hard," said Mr. Cobb.

Mr. Parkes, who was possibly a hard sleeper himself,
replied Avith some disdain ''Not a bit on it;" and directed
his eyes towards a handbill pasted over the chimney-piece,

286 BABNABY BUDGE.

which was decorated at the top with a woodcut representing
a youth of tender years running away very fast, with a bundle
over his shoukler at the end of a stick, and — to carry out the
idea — a finger-post and a mile-stone beside him. Mr. Cobb
likewise turned his eyes in the same direction and surveyed
the placard as if that were the first time he had ever beheld
it. Now, tliis 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 ; describing 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 further-
more 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 com-
position, 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 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 remembered
it or forgot it ; whether he had any idea that such an event
had ever taken place. Therefore, 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 complication of
knots, that it was perfectly clear he must wake or die. He
chose the former alternative, and opened his eyes.

" If he don't come in five minutes," said John, " 1 shall
have supper without him."

The antecedent of this pronoun had been mentioned for the

BARNABY BUDGE. 287

last time at eight o'clock. Messrs. Parkes and Cobb being
used to this style of conversation, replied without diiftculty
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-morrow."

" It won't break anything in the Mapole, 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 contem-
plation, " hear the wind say ' Maypole ? ' "

" Why, what man ever did ? " said Parkes.

"Nor ' ahoy,' perhaps ? " added John.

" Ko. Nor that neither."

"Very good, sir," said ^Ir. Willet, perfectly unmoved;
" 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 displayed some-
thing 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 cla})ped his two hands to his
cheeks, and sent forth a roar which made the glasses dance
and rafters ring — a long-sustained, discordant 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

288 BARXABY BUDGE.

ever}' vein in his head and face swollen with the great exer-
tion, and his countenance suffused with a^ lively purple, he
drew a little nearer to the fire, and turning his back upon it,
said with dignity, —

" If that's any comfort to anybody, they're welcome 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, 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 dis-
ordered dress, dashed into the room.

A more complete picture of terror than the little man pre-
sented, it would be difficult to imagine. The persj^iration
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, reflecting his dis-
mayed and horror-stricken visage, stared back again without
venturing to question him ; until old John Willet, in a fit of
temporar}" 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-following of you ? What do you
mean ? Say something, or I'll be the death" of you, I will."

Mr. Willet, in his frenz}^, 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 by-
standers, recovering in some degree, plucked him off his
victim 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 to give him some drink ; and
above all to lock the house door and close and bar the shutters

•y^Ji^L^ jf^-^^^

BABNABY BUDGE. 289

of the room, without a moment's loss of time. The latter
request did not tend to reassure 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 Solomon.

" 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."

" 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 continued thus, —

" Have I ever said that we are always brouglit back to
tliis subject in some strange way, when the nineteenth of this
montli 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 lias to be
wound u}) every day. Why should it escape my memory on
this day of all others ?

" I made as much haste down tliere as I couhl wlien I went

VOL. I.

290 BABNABY BUDGE.

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 leaning 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.

" 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

BARNABY RUDGE. 291

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 something
dreadful followed us in a dream, and came upon us unawares ;
and then it died off: seeming 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 conviction, " 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 gliost
— 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 ques-
tion him no further), his answer was lost on all but old Joliu
Willet, who happened to be seated close beside him.

" Who ! " cried Parkes and Tom Cobb, looking eagerly by
turns at Solomon Daisy and at Mr. Willet. " Who was it ? "

"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.

292 BABNABY BUDGE.

"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. Eight or wrong,
nobody would believe him. As to the probabilities, I don't
myself think," said Mr. Willet, eying the corners of the
room in a manner which showed that like some other philoso-
phers 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 /wouldn't, if I
was one."

But this heretical doctrine was strongly opposed by the
other three, who quoted a great many precedents 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 illustration, 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 sustained any lasting injury
from his fright.

Supper done, they crowded round the fire again, and as is
common on such occasions, propounded all manner of leading
questions calculated to surround the story with new horrors
and surprises. But Solomon Daisy, notwithstanding these
temptations, 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
propriety of not bruiting the tale abroad, unless the spirit
should appear to him again, in which case it would be neces-
sary to take immediate counsel with the clergyman, it was

BARyABY BUDGE. 293

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 conclusion
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.
Willet, after seeing them to the door, returned to collect 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.

294 B All NAB Y BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Before old Jolm 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 adventure, with a variety of exaggerations,
would be kftown to at least a score of people, and most likely
to Mr. Haredale himself, by breakfast-time to-morrow ; 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. "AVe haven't met of late years so often
as we used to do — changes are taking place in the family —
it's desirable that I should stand as well with them, in point
of dignity, as possible — the whispering about of this here
tale will anger him — it's good to have confidences with a
gentleman of his natur', and set one's self right besides.
Halloa, there ! Hugh — Hugh. Hal-loa ! "

AVhen 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.

"]S"o," 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 295

cards," said John ; " but no matter for that. Wrap yourself
up in something 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 reappeared, carrying a lantern and
a cudgel, and enveloped from head to foot in an old, frowsy,
slouching horse-cloth. ^Ir. 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 midnight in
such weather, without putting some heart into him, do you,
master ? " said Hugh.

" Yes I do sir," returned ^Ir. 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. 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 horsepond 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
liave found his way blindfold to any place within a dozen
miles, dragged old John along, quite deaf to his remon-
strances, and took his own course without the slightest refer-
ence to, or notice of, his master. So they made head against
the wind as they best could ; Hugh crushing the wet grass
beneath his heavy tread, and stalking on after his ordinary
savage fashion ; John Willet following at arni's length, pick-
ing his steps, and looking about iiini, now for bogs and
ditches, and now for such stray ghosts as might be wandering

296 BARNABY BUDGE.

abroad, with looks of as much dismay and uneasiness as his
immovable face was capable of expressing.

At length they stood upon tlie broad gravel-walk before the
Warren-house. The building was profoundly 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.

" The old room," said John, looking timidly upward ; " Mr.
Reuben's own apartment, God be with us ! I wonder his
brother likes to sit there, so late at niglit — 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 comfort-
able idea of snugness, you have, sir. Do you know what was
done in that room, you ruffian ? "

" 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, jVIr. 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."

" Willet — is it not ? "

BARNABY BUDGE. 297

" Of the Maypole — at your service, sir."

Mr. Haredale closed the window, and withdrew. He
presently appeared at a door in the bottom of the turret, and
coming across the garden-walk unlocked the gate and let
them in.

" You are a late visitor, Willet. What is the matter ? "

"Notliing 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. ^Vt. Haredale
following next, eyed his lowering face with no great favor ;
and Hugh, looking 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 writing-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. " Kot you, friend," he added hastily to
Hugh, who entered also. "Willet, why do you bring that
fellow here ? "

'•' Why, sir," returned John, elevating his eyebrows, and
lowering his voice to the tone in whicli the (juestion 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," returned ^Ir. Willet,
glancing over his shoulder at the organ in question, "cer-
tainly."

" There is no good there, be assured," said ^Sfr. Haredale.
" Wait in that little room, friend, and close the door between
us."

Hugh shrugged his shoulders, and with a disdainful look,
which showed, either that he had overheard, or that he

298 BARNABY BUDGE..

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 solicitude 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 j\Ir. Willet was surprised.

" You did quite right," he said, at the end of a long con-
versatiouj " 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. But jVtiss 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 expectations; 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 embarrass-
ing 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 throw-
ing his cloak about him, grasped his stick and lantern, and
prepared to descend the stairs.

'•i^K^i!®^

BARNABT BUDGE. 299

"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."

"Nay. 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 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 gen-
tleman'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 mut-
tered something to himself, and drank the rest, and setting
down tlie glass, preceded them without a word.

John was a good deal scandalized by this observance, 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 AVillet 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 horse-
men swept past — the nearest brushed his shoulder even then
— wlio, checking their steeds as suddenly as they could, stood
still, and waited for their coming up.

300 BARNABY RUDGE.

CHAPTER XXXV.

When John Willet saw that the horsemen wheeled smartly
round, and drew up three abreast in the narrow 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 personal safety in immediate
flight. Under the circumstances of disadvantage, however,
in wliich he and his guard were placed, he deemed it prudent
to adopt a different style of generalship, and therefore whis-
pered 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 flourish-
ing 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 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, "your're but a
churlish Englishman, if Englishman you be — which T 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

BARXABY BUDGE. 301

great neck-or-nothing chaps, that could keep on runniug over
us, back'ards 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, persuasively, '"it's
thirteen very easy mile."

The adjective was thrown in. as an inducement to the trav-
ellers 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 fol-
lowed by a short pause of indecision.

"Pray," said the gentleman, "are there any inns here
abouts ? "

At the word " inns," John plucked up his spirit in a sur-
prising manner ; his fears rolled off like smoke ; all the land-
lord stirred within him.

'•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, suddenly 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 unexceptionable 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 wlio had
spoken before; " for we shall want three if we stay, thougli
my friend only speaks of one."

"No, no, my lord; you are too good, you are too kind: but
your life is of faV too mucli importanc*' to the nation in these
portentous times, to be placed upon a level with one so useless

302 BARNABY BUDGE.

and so poor as mine. A great cause, my lord, a mighty cause,
depends on you. You are its leader and its champion, its
advanced 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. No one will repine if / take
cold or fever. Let John Grueby pass the night beneath the
open sky — no one will repine for hi77i. 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 his health and vigor. My
lord," said the speaker, rising in his stirrups, "it is a glorious
cause, and must not be forgotten. IMy 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, lifting 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 ijoii 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 talk-
ing 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 London, 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."

By this time Mr. Willet, who had never heard so many
words spoken together at one time, or delivered with such
volubility and emphasis as by the long-winded gentleman,
and whose brain, being wholly unable to sustain or compass

BARNABY BUDGE. 303

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 enter-
tainment 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
tolerable correctness. He was considering whether it was at
all possible to insert any novel sentences to the same purpose,
when the gentleman 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 liard — " require refreshment and
repose."

" Go on before, landlord, and show the way," said Lord
George Gordon ; " we will follow at a footpace."

"If you'll give me leave, my lord," said John Grueby, in a
low voice, " I'll change my proper place, 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 forward, 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 secretary — for that, it seemed, was Gashford's
office.

Hugh strode briskly on, often looking back at the servant,

304 BARXABY BUDGE.

whose horse was close iipou his heels, and glancing with a leer
at his holster case of pistols, 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 fel-
lows, who, if they ever are beat at fisty -cuffs, 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 I — 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 liorizon.
' " 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 con-
tented 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 moment 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 careless
and composed as if he had merely brushed away a fly ; Hugh
was so puzzled, and so disposed to look upon him as a cus-
tomer of almost supernatural toughness, that he merely
laughed, and cried •• Well done ! " then, sheering off a little,
led the way in silence.

BABNABY BUDGE. 305

Before the lapse of many minutes the party halted at the
Maypole door, Lord George and his secretary quickly dis-
mounting, gave their horses to their servant, who, under the
guidance of Hugh, repaired to the stables. Right glad to
escape from the inclemency of the night, they followed Mr.
Willet into the common room, and stood warming themselves
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 observing 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 precise and sober cut. The gravity of his dress, together
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 purpose,
singularly at variance with the studied composure 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 infected
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, liigh-
shouldered, bony, and ungraceful. His dress, in imitation of
his superior, was demure and staid in tlie extreme ; his
manner, formal and constrained. This gentleman had an
overhanging brow, great hands and feet and ears, and a pair
of eyes tliat seemed to have made an unnatural retreat int(;

VOL. I.

306 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 ivouldnH 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 onty 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 lordship, and I have to beg your lordship's
pardon for keeping you here, my lord, one minute."

With this address, John ushered them up-stairs 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.

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 candle-
sticks in his hands, bowed them up to the fireplace ; Hugh,
striding in with a lighted brand and a pile of fire-wood, 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-
room, expediting the supper, and making everything as cosey

BARNABY BUDGE. 307

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 liis 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 dreadful 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 secretary.

"No — no," returned his lord. "No. Why should I?
I suppose it would be decidedly irreligious to doubt it —
wouldn't it, Gashford ? Though there certainly were," he
added, without waiting for an answer, "some plaguey ill-
looking characters among them."

"When you warmed," said the secretary, looking sharply
at the other's downcast eyes, which briglitened slowly as he
spoke ; when you warmed into that noble outbreak : when
you told them that you were never of the lukewarm or tlie
timid tribe, and bade them take heed tliat they were prepared
to follow one who would lead them on, though to tlie 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

308 BABNABT BUDGE.

' 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, ' Xo Popery ! ' and you cried,
^No; not even if we wade in blood,' and they threw up their
hats and cried, ' Hurrah ! not even if we wade in blood ; No
Popery I Lord George ! Down with the Papists — Vengeance
on their heads ; ' when this was said and done, and a word
from you, 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 Gashford — did I
really say all that ? "

" And how much more ! " cried the secretary, looking
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, Gashford ? "

" 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 ?we," whined Gashford, drawing his
chair nearer with an injured air, and laying his broad flat
hand upon the table ; " me/' he repeated, bending the dark
hollows of his e^^es 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 Eomish church, and
clung to him as one whose timely hand had plucked me from
a pit ? "

" 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 secretary.

BARXABV BUDGE. 309

"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."

" oSTot one," repeated Gashford.

" Which of them can say for his honesty, what I can say
for mine ; which of them has refused a minister's bribe of
one thousand pounds a year, to resign his seat in favor of
another ? Xot 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, Gash-
ford," said Lord George with a heightened 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."

a Yes."

" Faithful to both."

" To the block ! "

It would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of the
excited manner in which he gave these answers to the secre-
tary'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 ungovern-
able which broke through all restraint. For some minutes he
walked rapidly up and down the room, then stopping suddenly,
exclaimed, —

" Gashford — you moved them yesterday too. Oh, yes I
You did."

"I shone with a reflected light, my lord," replied the
humble secretary, laying his hand upon his heart. " I did
my best."

310 liABNABY RUDGE.

"You did well," said liis master, "and are a great and
worthy instrument. If you will ring for John Grueby to
carry tlie portmanteau into my room, and will wait here while
I undress, we will dispose of business as usual, if you're not
too tired."'

" Too tired, my lord ! — But this is his consideration !
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 secre-
tary 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 unconsciousness ;
"my lord's abed."

" 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 Protestant 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 ragamuffins comes a-shouting after us, ' Gordon for-
ever ! ' that I'm ashamed of myself and don't know where to
look. When we're in-doors, they come a-roaring and scream-
ing 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 himself 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

BABNABY BUDGE. 311

unfort'nate Bloody ^lary, and call her name out till they're
hoarse. They're all Protestants 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 acci-
dentally. 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, ^Ir. Gashford (and I know you; you're
the man that blows 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 jNEary went as
far as that.'''

Gashford had vanished long ago, and these remarks 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
cockade, and withdrew to bed ; shaking his head in a very
gloomy and prophetic manner until he reached his chamber.

311^ BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Gashford, with a smiling face, but still with looks of pro-
found 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 occu-
pation 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 contempt-
uously; his very shoulders seemed to sneer in stealthy
whisperings 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 loreath on this bad earth."

Placing his light upon a table, he walked on tiptoe 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 religion, the
friend of his poor countrymen, the enemy of the proud and
harsh ; beloved of the rejected and oppressed, adored by forty
thousand bold and loyal English hearts — what happy slum,
bers 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 staring at him from
his entrance.

" My — my lord," said Gashford, starting and looking round
as though in great surprise. " I have disturbed you ! "

BABNABY BUDGE. 313

" I have not been sleeping."

" Not sleeping ! " he repeated, with assumed confusion.
" What can I say for having in your presence given utterance
to thoughts — but they were sincere — they were sincere ! "
exclaimed the secretar}^, 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
w^ell, 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 fire, 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-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 scavengers, 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 New-
gate, 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 liim."

314 BARNABY BUDGE.

Gashford obeyed, and went on reading from his list : —

"'The Friends of Reason, half a guinea. The Friends of
Libert}^, 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 Bull-Dogs, half a guinea.' "

"The United Bull-Doggs," 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 Tap-
pertit."

"I remember him. The little man, who sometimes 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 thought-
fully. " Eh, Gashford ? "

" One of the 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," 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."

BARNABY BUDGE. 315

" 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 collec-
tion goes on prosperously, and is pursued with fervor. Has
her husband joined ? "

" A malignant," returned the secretary, folding up his
papers. " Unworthy such a wife. He remains in outer dark-
ness, and steadily refuses."

" The consequences be upon his own head ! — Gashford ! "

"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 expression 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 impatiently rejoined, —

" Doubt. No. Who says I doubt ? If I 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 confederacy 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 Gashford.

" I am, I will be. I say again, I will be : to the block.
Who sa3's as much ! Do you ? Does any man alive ? "

316 BARNAEY RUDGE.

The secretary drooped his head with an expression of per-
fect 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 vehe-
ment 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
moment, 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 weak-
ness— sheer weakness; and it is the unhappy lot of thor-
oughly weak men, that their very sympathies, affections, con-
fidences — all the qualities which in better-constituted minds
are virtues — dwindle into foibles, or turn into downright
vices.

Gashford, with many a sly look towards the bed, sat chuck-
ling 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
withdrew ; 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 Protestant
into whose hands this shall come," and bore within, w^hat
follows : —

" Men and Brethren. Whoever shall find this letter, will
take it as a warning to join, without delay, the friends of Lord

BAENABT RUBGE. 317

George Gordon. There are great events at hand; and the
times are dangerous 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 ! "

318 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 in-
debted 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 w^orld, a master-
passion. To awaken it, to gratify it by slight degrees, and
yet leave something always in suspense, is to establish the
surest hold that can be had, in wrong, on the unthinking
portion of mankind.

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 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
abolishing the penal laws against Roman Catholic priests, the
penalty of perpetual imprisonment denounced against those
who educated children in that persuasion, and the disqualifi-
cation of all members of the Romish church to inherit real
property in the United Kingdom by right of purchase 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

BAENABY BUDGE. 319

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 confederacy among
the Popish powers to degrade and enslave 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 under-
stand himself, and bygone bugbears which had lain quietly
in their graves for centuries were raised again to haunt the
ignorant and credulous ; when all this was done, as it were,
in the dark, and secret invitations to join the Great Protestant
Association 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 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 dis-
ordered 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 ;
nothing had come, in England, of his past exertions, and
nothing was apprehended from liis present. Just as he has
come upon the reader, he had come, from time to time, upon

320 BARNABY BUDGE.

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.

"My lord," said Gashford in his 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 secretary, with
meekty 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 e3^es 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, recoiling.

"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, Gashford ? "

" Surely I do," the secretary cried, with looks of great
surprise.

" Humph ! " he muttered. " Yes that seems reasonable."

" I hoj)e 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 Gashford,
taking up Lord George's watch which lay upon a chair, and
seeming to read the inscription on the seal, abstractedly.

It was the slightest action possible, not obtruded on his
notice, and apparently the result of a moment's absence of

BARNABY RVDGE. 321

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 uncon-
scious 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. Xobody in
the house has mentioned the circumstance of finding them,
though I have been down-stairs 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," replied 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, Gashford, when the vineyard is menaced
with destruction, 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, 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; shaving 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 conso-
lation, 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

VOL. I.

322 BARNABY BUDGE.

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 hist minute, and required indeed some three
or four reminders from John Grueby, before he could resolve
to tear himself away from Mr. Willet's plentiful providing.

At length he came down-stairs, wi})ing his greasy mouth,
and having paid John Willet's bill, climbed into his saddle.
Lord George, who had been walking up and down before the
house talking to himself 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 Maypole 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 quaint and odd
exterior, the impression was confirmed this morning, and
increased a hundred-fold. Sitting bolt upright upon his bony
steed, with his long, straight hair, dangling about his face and
fluttering 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 con-
ceived. 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 absurdity 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 con-
duct ; 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 May-
pole inn.

Quite unconscious, however, of the effect he produced, he

BABNABY BULGE. 323

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 ! Xo Popery ! " At 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 gentlemen 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 Saint 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 " The Church in Danger ! " Then to be sure, the
by-standers stretched their throats indeed ; and he went on
again with mighty acclamations from the mob, and lower
bows than ever.

324 BARNABY BUDGE.

So along the Strand, up Swallow Street, into the Oxford
Road, and thence to his house in AVelbeck 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 '-Gentlemen, No Popery. Good-day. God bless you."
This being rather a 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, chuckfarthing, 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. Gashford, mean
while, bestirred himself in business matters ; with which he
was still engaged when shortly after dusk, John Grueby
entered and announced 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 Gruebj^ "I'd 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, malice, and ill-will. His dress was of thread-
bare velveteen — 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 32o

pot-house odors. In lieu of buckles at his knees, he wore
unequal loops of packthread ; 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."

" 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 gentle-
man 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 Gash-
ford," 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 faintest smile to
play upon his face. " Hush ! God bless me, Dennis ! We
associate, you know, for strictly peaceable and lawful pur-
poses."

"/ 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 Gasliford
agin' all England hollow ! "

326 BAKNABY BUDGE.

'' 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 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
constitutional 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, Protes-
tant, constitutional, English work. Is it, or is it not ? "

" Ko man alive can doubt it."

" Nor dead neither. Parliament says this here — says Par-
liament ' 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 Gashford,
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 sessions, and says ' These are too many for Dennis. I'll
have half for mi/seli and Dennis shall have half for hijyiseli;'
and sometimes he throws me 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 Tj^burn 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 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 327

and the practice of England, is the glory of England, ain't it,
Muster Gashford ? "

" Certainly," said the secretary.

''And in times to come," pursued the hangman, "if our
grandsons should think of their grandfathers' times, and find
these things altered, they'll say ' Those were days indeed,
and we've been going down-hill ever since.' — Won't they,
Muster Gashford ? "

"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 indignation,
" of course."

"Well," said the ruffian, " I've been once — twice, counting
the time I was christeqed — 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 Prot-
estant 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 with me, unless they come to me to be
worked off in course of law ; I mustn't have no biling, no
roasting, no frying — nothing but hanging. My lord may
well call me an earnest fellow. In support of the great Prot-
estant principle of having plenty of that, I'll," and here he
beat his club upon the ground, "burn, fight, kill — do any-
thing you bid me, so that it's bold and devilish — though the
end of it was, that I got hung myself. — There, Muster Gash-
ford ! "

He appropriately followed up this frequent i)rostitution 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 !"

32S BARNABY BUDGE.

Gashford had leaned back in his chair, regarding him with
eyes so sunken, and so shadowed by his heavy brows, that for
aught the liangman saw of them, he might have been stone
blind. He remained smiling in silence for a short time
longer, and then said, slowly and distinctly, —

^' You are indeed an earnest fellow, Dennis — a most valu-
able fellow — the stanchest man I know of in our ranks.
But you must calm yourself ; you must be peaceful, 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 ^lay, when this Papist relief bill
comes before the house, to convene our whole body for the
first time. My lord has thoughts of our walking in proces-
sion 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 numbers 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 secretary, 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 hangman was
beginning in a reckless way, when Gashford started forward,
laid his finger on his lips, and feigned to write, just as the
door was opened by John Grueby.

" Oh ! " said John, lookintr in : " here's another Protestant."

BARNABY BUDGE. 329

''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.

330 BARNABY BULGE.

CHAPTEE 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 occasion. His uncertainty was very brief, for before
Hugh had spoken a word, he said, as his countenance 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 did you get it
from, my good fellow ; what does it mean ? I don't under-
stand this at all."

A little disconcerted hj 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 utmost 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 331

profile from Hugh with one long end of his frowsy neckerchief,
nodded and chuckled behind this screen ii* 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 cir-
cumstance 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 Xewgate ! "

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 ; "nevermind the bill, or what it says, or what it don't
say. You don't know anything about it, master, — no more
do I, — no more does he," glancing at Dennis. " Xone of us
know what it means, or where it comes from : there's an end
of that. Xow I want to make one against the Catholics, I'm
a Xo-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 tlie 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 m}- division, Cluster 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.

332 BAENABY BUDGE.

"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, IMuster Gashford ! "

Tlie 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 a hoarse
whisper, as he nudged him with his elbow, —

" Don't split upon a constitutional officer's profession,
Muster Gashford. There are popular prejudices, you know,
and he miglitn'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, jNIuster Gashford," whispered Dennis, with
a horrible kind of admiration, such as that with which a
cannibal might regard his intimate friend, when hungry, —
" did you 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 pro-
fessional 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
England. 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 civilized
community could know, and militating more against the pro-
fessional 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 been

BAUNABY BUDGE. 333

informed by Gashford, in his peculiar manner, of the peaceful
and strictly lawful objects contemplated 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 answered in the affirmative, they went slowly down
to Westminster, where both houses of Parliament were then
sitting. jMingling 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 marched down there
in grand array, their roars and shouts would be heard by the
members 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 otherwise ; and bade him take
notice of their liveries and equipages, that he might be sure
of them in case of 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 acquaintance
with everytliing around, that it was plain he had often studied
tliere before ; as indeed, when they grew a little more con-
fidential, 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

334 BARNABY BUDGE.

nod or a look from Hugli'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 appear-
ing 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 reappeared 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 happened 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 b3^-stander, and
was so suddenly withdrawn that it was impossible to tell
from whom it came ; nor could he see in any face, on glan-
cing quickly round, the least confusion or surprise. They
often trod upon a paper like the one he carried in his breast,
but his companion whispered him not to touch it or to take
it up, — not even to look towards it, — so there they let them
lie, and 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'm 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 Tlie 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 entertainment, situated
in the fields at the back of the Foundling Hospital — a very
solitary spot at that period, and quite deserted after dark.

\ i

?^^a-«.gi4.t

BAliNABY BULGE. 335

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 people 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 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.

336 BABNABY BUDGE,

CHAPTEE 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, physically speaking, to have grown
smaller with years (particularly as to his legs, which were
stupendously little), but who, in a moral point of view, in
personal dignity and self-esteem, had swelled into a giant.
Kor was it by any means difficult for the most unobservant
person to detect this state of feeling in the quondam 'Prentice,
for it not only proclaimed 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, 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
emancipated 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 distin-
guished state in great political events. Hence their con-
nection with the Protestant Association of England, sane-

BARNABY BUDGE. 337

tioned 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 compliinents
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 jjou 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'y^ 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 w^ant. I hate the Papists,
every one of 'em. They hate me and I hate them. They do
me all the harm they can, and I'll do them all the harm /
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, tliey wouldn't have
been worth this one."

The greater part of the company implicitly subscribed to
this opinion, and testified their faith in Hugh, by nods and
looks of great significance. Mr. Tappertit sat and contem-
plated 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."

338 BABNABY BUDGE.

"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 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 confronting 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 playfulness. "When did
7717/ 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. Varden 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 oif, 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

BARNABY BUDGE. 339

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.

" 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 conciliatory expressions
he suited the action to the word; and Hugh meeting his
advances readily, they performed the ceremony with a show
of great heartiness.

" I find," said Mr. Tappertit, looking round on the assem-
bled guests, "that brother What's-his-name and I are old
acquaintance. — You never heard anything more of that
rascal, I suppose, eh ? "

"jSTot 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 abandon-
ment to his mad humor, that his limbs seemed dislocated,
and his whole frame in danger of tumbling to pieces ; but
j\[r. Tappertit, so far from receiving this extreme merriment
with any irritation, 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.

^Ir. Tappertit did not stop here, as many public 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,

340 BABNABY BUDGE.

upon sounding him, that he was quite ready and willing to
enter the society (for lie was not at all particular, and would
have leagued himself 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 unmingled satisfaction to the whole
assembly.

"Make anything you like of me!" cried Hugh, flourishing
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 found-
lings near at hand were startled in their beds.

In fact, a sense of something whimsical in their companion-
ship seemed to have taken entire possession 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
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 ^Ir. 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 attrib-
utable to his vast superiority. His dignified self-possession
only delighted Hugh the more ; and in a word, 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 precise and definite orders ; for when Mr. Tap-
pertit mounted on an empty cask which stood by way of

BARNABY BUDGE. 341

rostrum in the room, and volunteered a speech upon the
alarming crisis then at nand, he placed himself beside the
orator, and though he grinned from ear to ear at every word
he said, threw out such expressive hints to scoffers in the
management of his cudgel, that those who were at first the
most disposed 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 (which 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
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 per-
sons whispered very much among themselves, and kept aloof,
and often looked round, as jealous of their speech being
overheard ; 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 mystery, 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 affected by this, liowever, he
was perfectly satisfied witli his quarters, and would have

342 BARNABY BUDGE.

remained there till morning, but that his conductor rose soon
after midnight, to go home ; Mr. Tappertit following his
example, left him no excuse to sta3^ So they all three left
the house together : roaring a aSTo-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, shouting 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 exces-
sive 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, ^Ir. Dennis, who had a gruff voice and
lungs of considerable power, distinguished himself very much,
and acquired great credit with his two companions.

"What a queer fellow you are!" said Mr. Tappertit.
"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 ; "' wh}' 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. Tappertit.

" No. Natural genius," said Mr. Dennis. " No 'prenticing.
It come by natur'. ]\ruster Gashford knows my calling. Look
at that hand of mine — many and many a job that hand has
done, with a 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 stud^^ing the

BARNABY BUDGE. 343

anatomical development 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 myself a artist
— a fancy workman — art improves natur' — that's my motto."

" And what do you call this ? " said jMr. Tappertit 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. Tappertit.
"Who did it? You?"

" I ! " repeated Dennis, gazing fondly on his image. " 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
Avith his pocket-knife from memory ! ' 1*11 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 was a queer fancy," rejoined the other, breathing on
his fictitious nose, and polishing it with the cuff of his coat,
"but he was a queer subject 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, "' 1 was there.
Oh ! yes certainly, I was there. He wouldn't have gone off
half as comfortable without me. I had been with tliree or
four of his family under the same circumstances. They were
all fine fellows."

"'They must have been fond of you," remarked 'Mr. Tap-
pertit, 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 handkercher tliat you see round my neck, belonged
to him that I've been speaking of — him as did that likeness."

344 BARNABT RUDGE.

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 expensive 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
incumbrances 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
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 circumstance,
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 turnkeys 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. Tappertit, watch-
ing 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 ? "

BABNABY BUDGE. 345

" 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, musing. " But
come. The United B.'s expect me. On ! — What's the
matter ? "

" I quite forgot," said Hugh, who had started at the strik-
ing of a neighboring clock. '• I have somebody 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 sentiments in reference
to this act of desertion, but as it was clear, from Hugh's hasty
manner, that the engagement was one of a pressing nature,
he graciously forbore, and gave him his permission to depart
immediately, which Hugh acknowledged with a roar of
laughter.

" Good-night, captain ! " he cried. '• I am yours to the
death, remember ! "

^' Farewell ! " said jVIr. 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 chikl 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."

346 BARNABY BULGE.

CHAPTER XL.

Little thinking of the plan for his happy settlement in
life which had suggested itself to the teeming brain of his
provident commander, Hugh made no pause until Saint
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 em-
phasized with another kick.

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."

BARNABT RUDGE. 347

Eying him with suspicious looks, the man, ^vith key and
lantern, walked on at his side, and attended him to Sir John
Chester's door, at which Hugh gave one knock, tliat echoed
through the dark staircase like a ghostly summons, and made
the dull light tremble in the drow^sy lamp.

'^ Do you think he wants 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 w^ants 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 ISLP. to boot, was something for a porter. He with-
drew with much humilit}' and reverence. Sir John followed
his late visitor into the dressing-room, and sitting in his easy-
chair before the fire, and moving it so that he could see him
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 complexion,
•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 INI.T. — but liow ? Why, thus. It was
a proud family — more proud, indeed, tlian wealthy. He had
stood in danger of arrest ; of bailiffs, and a jail — a vulgar
jail, to wliich the common people with small incomes went.
Gentlemen of ancient liouses have no privilege of exemption
from such cruel laws — unless they are of one great house, and
then the}' have. A proud man of his stock and kindrod had

348 SARy-ABY BUDGE.

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 ? Xothing 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 wdth
an address — headed a deputation. Such elegance of manner,
so many graces of deportment, such powers of conversation,
could never pass unnoticed. Mr. was too common for such
merit. A man so gentlemanly should have been — but Fortune
is capricious — 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 butterfl3^ 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
leaned, shuffled his cap from one hand to the other, looked at
the ground, the wall, the ceiling, and finally at Sir John him-
self; 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 ? "

"Xo 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 advised, or said
I ought, or said I might, or said that you would do, if you was
me. Don't be so hard upon me, master."

Something like an expression of triumph in the perfect
control he had established over this rou2:h instrument,

BABNABY BUDGE. 349

appeared in the knight's face for an instant ; but it vanished
directly, as he said — paring his nails while speaking, —

" 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 uj^on 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. Wliy 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 stayed 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
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 lias slighted you,
lately, on all occasions, abused you, treated you witli rudeness ;
acted towards you, more as if you were a mongrel dog tlian a
man like himself ? "

350 BABNABY BUDGE,

" To be sure 1 did ! " cried Hugh, his passion rising, 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 wlio 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 among 'em than me, when I am fairly
loose — they had ! "

The knight looked at him with a smile of far deeper mean-
ing 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.

" Not I, master ! " cried Hugh. " I don't say half 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 weak-
ness with some persons — you'll know it one day, I dare
swear."

BABNABY BUDGE. 351

" We're intimate already," said Hugh.

" Quite natural ! And have been drinking together, 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 conversation, 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 Avrested from him ; and he was brought to this state
of feeling so 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 opportunity of revenging yourself on your proud
friend Haredale, though, and for that, you'd hazard anything
I suppose ? "

" I would," retorted Hugh, stopping in his passage out and
looking back ; " but what do / 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 3'ou go along; it's as well not to keep
such things about you."

Hugh nodded, and touching his cap with an air of as mucli
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. ^Fy relative and I, who

352 BABNABY BUBGK.

are the most Protestant fellows in the world, give our worst
wishes to the Roman Catholic cause ; and to Saville, who
introduces their 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. Kow,
really, to foment his disturbances 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 becom-
ing seasons, 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 ivould inflict some little chastise-
ment on Haredale 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 snulf : 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 1 lend him a helping hand,
the only difference is, that he may, upon the whole, possibly
drink a few gallons, or punclreons, 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.

BARNABY BUDGE. 353

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, ^o man who hammered on at a dull
monotonous dut}', 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 coppersmith, 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 audible 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 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 workshop of the Golden Key.

Who but the locksmith could liave made such nuisic ! A
gleam of sun shining through tlie unsashed window, aiul
checkering tlie dark workshop with a broad patch of light,
fell full upon him, as though attracted by his sunny heart.

354 BAENABY BUDGE.

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 falling 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 in 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 quadruple-locked
forever.

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

BARXABY BUDGE. 355

should have fired and fumed ! But what a fool I must have
been, sure-ly ! "

" Ah ! " sighed Mrs. Varden, who had entered unobserved.
" A fool indeed. A man at your time of life, Varden, should
know better now."

"^Yhy, what a ridiculous woman you are, Martha," said
the locksmith, turning round with a smile.

"Certainly," replied Mrs. V. with great demureness. "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; "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 expectation 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 judg-
ment occurring, she heaved a deep sigh, and begged her
husband, 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 gratify
her, but he gave a great gulp, and mildly rejoined, —

" I was going to say, what on earth do you call it unchris-
tian 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 and drive 'em off ? Shouldn't I be a
nice sort of a Christian, if I crept into a corner of my own
chimney and looked on while a parcel of whiskered savages
bore off Dolly — or you ? "

When he said " or you," Mrs. Varden, despite herself,

356 BABNABY BUDGE.

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-plaj-er, with a great turban on, would
be bearing Jier 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 jMiggs by a
Pagan negro, a circumstance too shocking and awful for con-
templation.

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 round 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 darling ! "

How well she looked ? Well ? Why, if he had exhausted
every laudatory adjective in the dictionary, it wouldn't have
been praise enough. When and where was there ever such a
plump, roguish, comely, bright-eyed, enticing, bewitching,
captivating, 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 deliver 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,

BARNABY BUDGE. 357

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 steadiness, 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 watclimen !
How had she recruited the king's service, both by sea and
land, through rendering desperate his loving subjects between
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 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 mistake !

And yet here was this same Dolly Yarden, so whimsical
and hard to please that she was Dolly Yarden 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, accompanied 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 liair from her sparkling eyes, "to have
you at home. Give me a kiss."

35S BABNABY BUDGE.

If there had been anybody of the male kind there to see her
do it — but there was not — it was a nle^C3^

"I don't like your being at the Warren," said the lock-
smith, " I can't bear to have you out of my sight. And what
is the news over yonder, Doll ? "

" AYhat news there is, I think you 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 ^Iv. 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 coloring so."

" What the story means, or is, or has to do w^ith it, I know
no more than you, my dear," returned the locksmith, " except
that it's some foolish fear of little 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. Eead 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 j^urpose."

Dolly might have remonstrated against this summary dis-
missal of the subject, notwithstanding the appearance of
dinner, but at the mention of Blue Beard Mrs. Varden inter-
posed, protesting she could not find it in her conscience to sit
tamely by, and hear her child recommended to peruse the
adventures of a Turk and Mussulman — far less of a fabulous
Turk, which she considered that potentate to be. She held

BABNABY BUDGE. 359

that in such stirring and tremendous times as those in which
they lived, it would be much more to the purpose if Dolly
became a regular subscriber to the Thunderer, where she
would have an opportunity of reading Lord George Gordon'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, who 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, number twenty-
si vin, second bell-handle on the right hand door-post, 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 hardened 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, prince, or angel, to which
sentiment ^Irs. Varden fully subscribed.

iSIrs. Varden having cut in, looked at a box upon the
mantel-shelf, painted in imitation of a very red-brick dwelling-
house, with a yellow roof ; having at top a real chimney, down
which voluntary subscribers dropped their silver, gold, or
pence, into the parlor ; and on the door the counterfeit pre-
sentment 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 fragments 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,

360 BAENABY BUDGE.

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, mini," 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 wath 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 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, herself in
tears ; " you needn't be ashamed of it, though your poor mis-
tress is on the same side."

Miggs howled at this remark, in a peculiarly dismal way,
and said she know^ed that master hated her. That it was a
dreadful thing to live in families 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
w^ould 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 separations, but, as she was hated and looked
upon unpleasant, perhaps her dying as soon as possible would

BARNABT BUDGE. 861

be the best endings for all parties, AVitli this affecting con-
clusion, Miss Miggs shed more tears, and sobbed abundant!}'.

" Can you bear this, Varden ? " said his wife in a solemn
voice, laying down her knife and fork.

"Why, not very well, my dear," rejoined the locksmith,
"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 locksmith's joke relative to the foreign black who played
the tambourine, and bursting with the spiteful feelings
which the taunt awoke in her fair breast, exploded in the
manner we have witnessed. Matters having 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 talking 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 con-
fession of having been in the wrong, did dry their eyes and
take it in good part. Miss JNIiggs observed that she bore no
malice, no not to her greatest foe, whom she rather loved the
more indeed, the greater persecution she sustained. ^Irs.
Varden approved of this meek and forgiving spirit in liigh
terms, and incidentally declared as a closing article of agree-
ment, 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 \^({ 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

362 BARNABT BUDGE.

]\Iiggs up to this point, in order that she might have him
at a disadvantage. The manoeuvre succeeded 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 distinguished herself in the paths of
morality and goodness. Mrs. Y., according to custom, ex-
pressed her hope that Yarden 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. Yarden said, '' like Christians."

As there was to be a grand parade of the Eoyal East
London Yolunteers that afternoon, the locksmith 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. Y., from time to time, and exhibiting from the crown
of his head to the sole of his foot, one smiling surface 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 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.
Yarden, 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.

BABNABY BUDGE. 363

"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 w^as obliged to kneel down,
and recommence at the beginning.

"N^evermind j^oung Willet, Varden," said his wife frown-
ing ; " you might find some one more deserving to talk about,
I think."

Miss Miggs gave a great sniff to the same effect.

" ]S"ay, Martha," cried the locksmith, " don't let 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. Varden.

Miss Miggs expressed her concurrence as before.

"A runaway, my dear, but not a vagabond," returned the
locksmith in a gentle tone. '• He behaved himself well, did
Joe — always — and was a handsome, manly fellow. Don't
call him a vagabond, Martha."

Mrs. Varden coughed — and so did ^liggs.

" 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 Maypole 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 lock-
smith, musing sorrowfully, " Ah ! Poor Joe ! "

" Well, I declare," cried Miggs. " Oh ! Goodness gracious
me ! "

"What's the matter now ?" said Gabriel, turning sharply
to her.

" Why, if here ain't ^liss Dolly," said the handmaid, stoop-
ing down to look into her face, "a-giving way to floods of
tears. Oh, mini ! oh, sir. Paly it's give 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."

364 BARNABT BUDGE.

The locksmith, after ghmcing at ^Miss Miggs as if he could
have wished to have a feather brought straightway, looked on
with a broad stare w^hile Dolly hurried away, followed by
that sympathizing young woman : then turning to his wife,
stammered out, " Is Dolly ill ? Have / done any thing ? 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 patience 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 w^alked outT

" 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.

BARNABY BUDGE. 365

CHAPTER XLII.

The Royal East London Volunteers made a brilliant sight
that day ; formed into lines, squares, circles, triangles, and
what not, to the beating of drums and the streaming of flags ;
and performed a vast number of complex evolutions, in all of
which Sergeant Varden bore a conspicuous share. Having
displayed their military prowess to the utmost in these war-
like shows, they marched in glittering order to the Chelsea
Bun-house, and regaled in the adjacent taverns until dark.
Then at sound of drum they fell in again, and returned amidst
the shouting of His Majesty's lieges to the place from whence
they came.

The homeward march being somewhat tardy, — owing to
the un-soldierlike behavior of certain corporals, who being
gentlemen of sedentary pursuits in private life and excitable
out of doors, broke several windows with their bayonets, and
rendered it imperative on the commanding officer to deliver
them over to a strong guard, with whom they fought at
intervals as they came along, — it was nine o'clock when the
locksmith reached home. A hackney-coach was waiting near
his door ; and as he passed it, Mr. Haredale looked from the
window and called him by his name.

" The sight of you is good for sore eyes, sir," said the lock-
smith, stepping up to him. "I wish you had walked in
though, rather than waited here."

" There is nobody at home, I find," Mr. Haredale answered ;
" besides, I desired to be as private as I could."

"Humph!" muttered the locksmith, looking round at his
house. " Gone with Simon Tappertit to that precious Branch,
no doubt."

Mr. Haredale invited him to come into the coacli, and, if lie
were not tired or anxious to go home, to ride with him a little
way that they might have some talk together. Gabriel

366 BARNABY BUDGE.

cheerfully complied, and the coachman mounting his box
drove off.

" Varden," said ^Mr. Haredale, after a minute's pause, " you
will be amazed to hear what errand I am on ; it will seem a
very strange one."

" I have no doubt it's a reasonable one, sir, and has a mean-
ing in it," replied the locksmith; "or it would not be yours
at all. Have you just come back to town, sir ? "

" But half an hour ago."

" Bringing no news of Barnaby, or his mother ? " said the
locksmith dubiously. "Ah! you needn't shake your head,
sir. It was a wild-goose chase. I feared that, from the first.
You exhausted all reasonable means of discovery when they
went away. To begin again after so long a time has passed
is hopeless, sir — quite hopeless."

" Why, where are they ? " he returned impatiently. " Where
can they be ? Above ground ? "

"God knows," rejoined the locksmith, "many that I
knew above it five years ago, have their beds under the
grass now. And the world is a wide place. It's a hopeless
attempt, sir, believe me. We must leave the discovery of this
mystery, like all others, to time, and accident, and Heaven's
pleasure."

" Varden, my good fellow," said Mr. Haredale, " I have a
deeper meaning in my present anxiety to find them out, than
you can fathom. It is not a mere whim ; it is not the casual
revival of my old wishes and desires ; but an earnest, solemn
purpose. i\[y thoughts and dreams all tend to it, and fix it
in my mind. I have no rest by day or night ; I have no peace
or quiet ; I am haunted."

His voice was so altered from its usual tones, and his manner
bespoke so much emotion, that Gabriel, in his wonder, could
only sit and look towards him in the darkness, and fancy the
expression of his face.

"Do not ask me," continued Mr. Haredale, "to explain
myself. If I were to do so, yow would think me the victim
of some hideous fancy. It is enough that this is so, and that
I cannot — no, I cannot — lie quietly in my bed, without doing
what will seem to you incomprehensible."

BARNABY BUDGE. 367

" Since when, sir," said the locksmith after a pause, " has
this uneasy feeling been upon you ? "

Mr. Haredale hesitated for some moments, and then replied :
" Since the night of the storm. In short, since the last nine-
teenth of March."

As though he feared that Varden might express surprise,
or reason with him, he hastily went on, —

•'• You will think, I know, I labor under some delusion.
Perhaps I do. But it is not a morbid one ; it is a wholesome
action of the mind, reasoning on actual occurrences. You
know the furniture remains in Mrs. Rudge's house, and that
it has been shut up, by my orders, since she went away, save
once a week or so, when an old neighbor visits it to scare
away the rats. I am on my way there now."

" For what purpose ? " asked the locksmith.

" To pass the night there," he replied ; " and not to-night
alone, but many nights. This is a secret which I trust to you
in case of any unexpected emergency. You will not come,
unless in case of strong necessity, to me ; from dusk to broad
day, I shall be there. Emma, your daughter, and the rest,
suppose me out of London, as I have been until within this
hour. Do not undeceive them. This is the errand I am
bound upon. I know I may confide it to you, and I rely upon
your questioning me no more at this time."

With that, as if to change the theme, he led the astounded
locksmitli back to the night of the Maypole highwayman, to
the robbery of Edward Chester, to the reappearance of the
man at ^Irs. Rudge's house, and to all the strange circum-
stances which afterwards occurred. He even asked him
carelessly about the man's height, his face, his figure, whether
he was like any one he had ever seen — like Hugh, for in-
stance, or any man he had knoA^n at any time — and put
many questions of that sort, which the locksmith, considering
them as mere devices to engage his attention, and prevent his
expressing the astonishment he felt, answered prett}' nuich at
random.

At length, they arrived at the corner of the street in
which the house stood, where Mr. Haredale, alighting, dis-
missed the coach. *• If you desire to see me safely lodged,"

368 BARNABY BUDGE.

he said, turning to the locksmith with a gloomy smile, " you
can."

Gabriel, to whom all former marvels had been nothing in
comparison with this, followed him along the narrow pave-
ment in silence. When they reached the door, Mr. Haredale
softly opened it with a key he had about him, and closing it
when Varden entered, they were left in thorough darkness.

They groped their way into the ground-floor room. Here
Mr. Haredale struck a light, and kindled a pocket taper he
had brought with him for the purpose. It was then, when
the flame was full upon him, that the locksmith saw for the
first time how haggard, pale, and changed he looked ; how
worn and thin he was ; how perfectly his whole appearance
coincided with all that he had said so strangely as they rode
along. It was not an unnatural impulse in Gabriel, after
what he had heard, to note curiously the expression of his
eyes. It was perfectly collected and rational ; — so much so,
indeed, that he felt ashamed of his momentary suspicion, and
drooped his own when Mr. Haredale looked towards him, as if
he feared they would betray his thoughts.

" Will you walk through the house ? " said Mr. Haredale,
with a glance towards the window, the crazy shutters of which
were closed and fastened. " Speak low."

There was a kind of awe about the place, which would have
rendered it difficult to speak in any other manner. Gabriel
whispered " Yes," and followed him up-stairs.

Everything was just as they had seen it last. There was a
sense of closeness from the exclusion of fresh air, and a gloom
and heaviness around, as though long imprisonment had made
the very silence sad. The homely hangings of the beds and
windows had begun to droop ; the dust lay thick upon their
dwindling folds ; and damps had made their way through
ceiling, wall, and floor. The boards creaked beneath their
tread, as if resenting the unaccustomed intrusion; niirble
spiders, paralyzed by the taper's glare, checked the motion of
their hundred legs upon the wall, or droj^ped like lifeless
things upon the ground ; the death-watch ticked ; and the
scampering feet of rats and mice rattled behind the wainscot.

As they looked about them on the decaying furniture, it

BARNABY BUDGE. 369

was strange to find how vividly it presented those to whom it
had belonged, and with whom it was once familiar. Grip
seemed to perch again upon his high-backed chair ; Barnaby
to crouch in his old favorite corner by the fire ; the mother
to resume her usual seat, and watch him as of old. Even
when they could separate these objects from the phantoms of
the mind which they invoked, the latter only glided out of
sight, but lingered near them still ; for then they seemed to
lurk in closets and behind the doors, ready to start out and
suddenly accost them in well-remembered tones.

They went down-stairs, and again into the room they had
just now left. Mr. Haredale unbuckled his sword and laid it
on the table, with a pair of pocket pistols, then told the lock-
smith he would light him to the door.

"But this is a dull place, sir," said Gabriel lingering;
" may no one share your watch ? "

He shook his head, and so plainly evinced his wish to be
alone, that Gabriel could say no more. In another moment
the locksmith was standing in the street, whence he could
see that the light once more travelled up-stairs, and soon re-
turning to the room below, shone brightly through the chinks
in the shutters.

If ever man were sorely puzzled and perplexed, the lock-
smith was, that night. Even when snugly seated by his own
fireside, with ^Irs. Varden opposite in a night-cap and night-
jacket, and Dolly beside him (in a most distracting dishabille)
curling her hair, and smiling as if she had never cried in all
her life and never could — even then, with Toby at his elbow
and his pipe in his mouth, and IMiggs (but that perhaps was
not much) falling asleep in the background, he could not
quite discard his wonder and uneasiness. So, in his dreams
— still there was Mr. Haredale, haggard and careworn,
listening in the solitary house to every sound that stirred,
with the taper shining through the chinks until the day
should turn it pale and end his lonely watching.

VOL. I.

BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Next morning brought no satisfaction to the locksmith's
thoughts, nor next day, nor the next, nor many others. Often
after nightfall he entered the street, and turned his eyes
towards the well-known house ; and as surely as he did so,
there was the solitary light, still gleaming through the crev-
ices of the window-shutter, while all within was motionless,
noiseless, cheerless, as a grave. Unwilling to hazard Mr.
Haredale's favor by disobejdng his strict injunction, he never
ventured to knock at the door or to make his presence known
in any way. But whenever strong interest and curiosity
attracted him to the spot — which was not seldom — the light
was always there.

If he could have known what passed within, the knowledge
would have yielded him no clew to this mysterious vigil. At
twilight, Mr. Haredale shut himself up, and at daybreak he
came forth. He never missed a night, always came and went
alone, and never varied his proceedings in the least degree.

The manner of his watch was this. At dusk, he entered
the house in the same way as when the locksmith bore him
company, kindled a light, went through the rooms, and
narrowly examined them. That done, he returned to the
chamber on the ground floor, and laying his sword and pistols
on the table, sat by it until morning.

He usually had a book Avith him, and often tried to read,
but never fixed his eyes or thoughts upon it for five minutes
together. The slightest noise without doors, caught his ear ;
a step upon the pavement seemed to make his heart leap.

He was not without some refreshment during the long
lonely hours ; generally carrying in his pocket a sandwich of
bread and meat, and a small flask of wine. The latter, diluted
with large quantities of water, he drank in a heated, feverish

BARNABY BUDGE. 371

way, as though his throat were dried ; but he scarcely ever
broke his fast, by so much as a crumb of bread.

If this voluntary sacrifice of sleep and comfort had its
origin, as the locksmith on consideration was disposed to
think, in any superstitious expectation of the fulfilment of a
dream or vision connected with the event on which he had
brooded for so many years, and if he waited for some ghostly
visitor who walked abroad when men lay sleeping in their
beds, he showed no trace of fear or wavering. His stern
features expressed inflexible resolution ; his brows were
puckered, and his lips compressed, with deep and settled
purpose; and when he started at a noise and listened, it was
not with a start of fear but hope, and catching up his sword
as though the hour had come at last, he would clutch it in
his tight-clinched hand, and listen, with sparkling eyes and
eager looks, until it died away.

These disappointments were numerous, for they ensued on
almost every sound, but his constancy was not shaken. Still,
every night he was at his post, the same stern, sleepless
sentinel ; and still night passed, and morning dawned, and he
must watch again.

This went on for Aveeks ; he had taken a lodging at
Vauxhall in which to pass the day and rest himself; and
from this place, when the tide served, he usually came to
London Bridge from "Westminster by water, in order that he
might avoid the busy streets.

One evening, shortly before twilight, he came his accus-
tomed road upon the river's bank, intending to pass through
Westminster Hall into Palace Yard, and there take boat to
London Bridge as usual. There was a pretty large concourse
of people assembled round the Houses of Parliament, looking
at the members as they entered and departed, and giving vent
to rather noisy demonstrations of approval or dislike, accord-
ing to their known opinions. As he made his way among
the throng, he heard once or twice the No-Popery cry, which
was then becoming pretty familiar to the ears of most men ;
but holding it in very slight regard, and observing that the
idlers were of the lowest grade, he neitlier thought nor cared
about it, but made his way along, with perfect indifference.

372 BARNABT BUDGE.

There were many little knots and groups of persons in
Westminster Hall: some few looking upward at its noble
ceiling, and at the rays of evening light, tinted by the setting
sun, which streamed in aslant through its small windows, and
growing dimmer by degrees, were quenched in the gathering
gloom below ; some, noisy passengers, mechanics going home
from work, and otherwise, who hurried quickl}^ through,
waking the echoes with their voices, and soon darkening the
small door in the distance, as they passed into the street
beyond; some, in busy conference together on political or
private matters, pacing slowly up and down with eyes that
sought the ground, and seeming, by their attitudes, to listen
earnestly from head to foot. Here, a dozen squabbling
urchins made a very Babel in the air; there, a solitary man,
half clerk, half mendicant, paced up and down with hungry
dejection in his look and gait: at his elbow passed an errand-
lad, swinging his basket round and round, and with his shrill
whistle riving the very timbers of the roof; while a more
observant schoolboy, half-way through, pocketed his ball, and
eyed the distant beadle as he came looming on. It was that
time of evening when if you shut your eyes and open them
again, the darkness of an hour appears to have gathered in a
second. The smooth-worn pavement, dusty with footsteps,
still called upon the lofty walls to reiterate the shuffle and
the tread of feet unceasingly, save when the closing of some
heavy door resounded through the building like a clap of
thunder, and drowned all other noises in its rolling sound.

Mr. Haredale, glancing only at such of these groups as he
passed nearest to, and then in a manner betokening that his
thoughts were elsewhere, had nearly traversed the Hall, when
two persons before him caught his attention. One of these,
a gentleman in elegant attire, carried in his hand a cane,
which he twirled in a jaunty manner as he loitered on; the
other, an obsequious, crouching, fawning figure, listened to
what he said — at times throwing in a humble word himself
— and, with his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, rubbed his
hands submissively^, or answered at intervals by an inclination
of the head, half-way between a nod of acquiescence, and a
bow of most profound respect.

BABNABY BUDGE. 373

In the abstract there was nothing very remarkable in this
pair, for servility waiting on a handsome suit of clothes and a
cane — not to speak of gold and silver sticks, or wands of
office — is common enough. But there was that about the
well-dressed man, yes, and about the other likewise, which
struck Mr. Haredale with no pleasant feeling. He hesitated,
stopped, and would have stepped aside and turned out of his
path, but at the moment, the other two faced about quickly
and stumbled upon him before he could avoid them.

The gentleman with the cane lifted his hat and had begun
to tender an apology, which Mr. Haredale had begun as
hastily to acknowledge and walk away, when he stopped
short and cried, " Haredale ! Gad bless me, this is strange
indeed ! "

" It is," he returned impatiently ; " yes — a " —

"My dear friend," cried the other, detaining him, "why
such great speed ? One minute, Haredale, for the sake of
old acquaintance."

" I am in haste," he said. " Neither of us has sought this
meeting. Let it be a brief one. Good-night ! "

" Fie, fie ! " replied Sir John (for it was he), " how very
churlish ! We were speaking of you. Your name was on my
lips — perhaps you heard me mention it? No? I am sorry
for that. I am really sorry. — You know our friend here,
Haredale ; this is really a most remarkable meeting ! "

The friend, plainly very ill at ease, had made bold to press
Sir John's arm, and to give him other significant hints that
he was desirous of avoiding this introduction. As it did not
suit Sir John's purpose, however, that it should be evaded, he
appeared quite unconscious of these silent remonstrances, and
inclined his hand towards him, as he spoke, to call attention
to him more particularly.

The friend, therefore, had nothing for it, but to muster
up the pleasantest smile he could, and to make a conciliatory
bow as ]\[r. Haredale turned his eyes upon him. Seeing that
he was recognized, he put out his hand in an awkward and
embarrassed manner, which was not mended by its contempt-
uous rejection.

"Mr. Gashford ! " said Haredale, coldly. - It is as I liavi'

374 nARXABY BUDGE.

heard then. You have left the darkness for the light, sir,
and hate those whose opinions you formerly held, with all
the bitterness of a renegade. You are an honor, sir, to any
cause. 1 wish the one you espouse at present, much joy of
the acquisition it has made."

The secretary rubbed his hands and bowed, as though he
would disarm his adversary by humbling himself before him.
Sir John Chester again exclaimed, with an air of great
gayety, '- Now, really, this is a most remarkable meeting ! "
and took a pinch of snuff with his usual self-possession.

" Mr. Haredale," said Gashford, stealthily raising his eyes,
and letting them drop again when they met the other's steady
gaze, "is too conscientious, too honorable, too manly, I am
sure, to attach unworthy motives to an honest change of opin-
ions, even though it implies a doubt of those he holds himself.
Mr. Haredale is too just, too generous, too clear-sighted, in
his moral vision, to " —

'' Yes, sir ? " he rejoined with a sarcastic smile, finding
that the secretary stopped. " You were saying " —

Gashford meekly shrugged his shoulders, and looking on
the ground again, was silent.

"No, but let us realh'," interposed Sir John at this junc-
ture, " let us really, for a moment, contemplate the very
remarkable character of this meeting. Haredale, my dear
friend, pardon me if I think you are not sufficiently impressed
with its singularity. Here we stand, by no previous appoint-
ment or arrangement, three old schoolfellows, in Westminster
Hall : three old boarders in a remarkably dull and shady
seminary at St. Omer's, Avhere you, being Catholics, and of
necessity educated out of England, were brought up : and
where I, being a promising young Protestant at that time,
was sent to learn the French tongue from a native of Paris ! "

"Add to the singularity^, Sir John," said Mr. Haredale,
" that some of you Protestants of promise are at this moment
leagued in yonder building, to prevent our having the sur-
passing and unheard-of privilege of teaching our children to
read and write — here — in this land, where thousands of us
enter your service every year, and to preserve the freedom of
which, we die in bloody battles abroad, in heaps ; and that

BARNABY RUDGE. 375

others of you, to the number of some thousands as I learn,
are led on to look on all men of my creed as wolves and beasts
of prey, by this man Gashford. Add to it besides, the bare
fact that this man lives in society, walks the streets in broad
day — I was about to say, holds up his head, but that he does
not — and it will be strange, and very strange, I grant you."

" Oh ! you are hard upon our friend," replied Sir John,
with an engaging smile. " You are really very hard upon our
friend ! "

" Let him go on. Sir John," said Gashford, fumbling with
his gloves. "Let him go on, I can make allowances. Sir
John. I am honored with your good opinion, and I can dis-
pense with Mr. Haredale's. ^Ir. Haredale is a sufferer from
the penal laws, and I can't expect his favor."

" You have so much of my favor, sir," retorted Mr. Hare-
dale, with a bitter glance at the third party in their conversa-
tion, "that I am glad to see you in such good company. You
are the essence of your great Association, in yourselves."

"!N"ow, there you mistake," said Sir John, in his most
benignant way. " There — which is a most remarkable cir-
cumstance for a man of 3'our punctuality and exactness,
Haredale — you fall into an error. I don't belong to the
body ; I have an immense respect for its members, but I don't
belong to it ; although I am, it is certainly true, the conscien-
tious opponent of your being relieved. I feel it my duty to
be so ; it is a most unfortunate necessity ; and cost me a
bitter struggle. — Will you try this box ? If you don't
object to a trifling infusion of a very chaste scent, you'll find
its flavor exquisite."

" I ask your pardon. Sir John," said Mr. Haredale, declin-
ing the prott'er with a motion of his hand, " for having ranked
you among the humble instruments who are obvious and in
all men's sight. I should have done more justice to your
genius. Men of your capacity plot in secrecy and safety, and
leave exposed posts to the duller wits.''

"Don't apologize, for the world," replied Sir John sweetly;
"old friends like you and 1, may be allowed some freedoms,
or the deuce is in it."

Gashford, who had been very restless all this time, but had

376 BABNABY BUDGE.

not once looked up, now turned to Sir John, and ventured to
mutter something to the effect that he must go, or my lord
would perhaps be waiting.

"Don't distress yourself, good sir," said Mr. Haredale,
" I'll take my leave, and put you at your ease " — which he
was about to do without ceremony, when he was stayed by a
buzz and murmur at the upper end of the hall, and, looking
in that direction, saw Lord George Gordon coining on, with a
crowd of people round him.

There was a lurking look of triumph, though very differ-
ently expressed, in the faces of his two companions, which
made it a natural impulse on ^Ir. Haredale's part not to give
way before this leader, but to stand there while he passed.
He drew himself up, and clasping his hands behind him,
looked on with a proud and scornful aspect, while Lord
George slowly advanced (for the press was great about him)
towards the spot where they were standing.

He had left the House of Commons but that moment, and
had come straight down into the hall, bringing with him, as
his custom was, intelligence of what had been said that night
in reference to the Papists, and what petitions had been
presented in their favor, and who had supported them, and
when the bill was to be brought in, and when it would be
advisable to present their own Great Protestant petition. All
this he told the persons about him in a loud voice, and with
great abundance of ungainly gesture. Those who were near-
est him made comments to each other, and vented threats
and murmurings ; those who were outside the crowd cried
" Silence," and " Stand back," or closed in upon the rest,
endeavoring to make a forcible exchange of places : and so
they came driving on in a very disorderly and irregular way,
as it is the manner of a crowd to do.

When they were very near to where the Secretary, Sir
John, and Mr. Haredale stood, Lord George turned round,
and, making a few remarks of a sufficiently violent and inco-
herent kind, concluded with the usual sentiment, and called
for three cheers to back it. AVhile these were in the act of
being given with great energy, he extricated himself from the
press, and stepped up to Gash ford's side. Both he and Sir

BAENABY BUDGE. 377

John being well known to the populace, they fell back a
little, and left the four standing together.

"Mr. Haredale, Lord George," said Sir John Chester, seeing
that the nobleman regarded him with an inquisitive look.
"A Catholic gentleman unfortunately — most unhappily a
Catholic — but an esteemed acquaintance of mine, and once
of Mr. Gashford's. My dear Haredale, this is Lord George
Gordon."

" I should have known that, had I been ignorant of his
lordship's person," said Mr. Haredale. " I hope there is but
one gentleman in England who, addressing an ignorant and
excited throng, would speak of a large body of his fellow-
subjects in such injurious language as I heard this moment.
For shame, my lord, for shame ! "

" I cannot talk to you, sir," replied Lord George in a loud
voice, and waving his hand in a disturbed and agitated
manner; ^^we have nothing in common."

"We have much in common — many things — all that the
Almighty gave us," said Mr. Haredale ; " and common charity,
not to say common-sense and common decency, should teach
you to refrain from these proceedings. If every one of those
men had arms in their hands at this moment, as they have
them in their heads, I would not leave this place without
telling you that you disgrace your station."

"I don't hear you, sir," he replied in the same manner as
before ; " I can't hear you. It is indifferent to me what you
say. Don't retort, Gashford," for the secretary had made a
show of wishing to do so ; "I can hold no communion with
the worshippers of idols."

As he said this, he glanced at Sir John, who lifted liis
hands and eyebrows, as if deploring the intemperate conduct
of Mr. Haredale, and smiled in admiration of the crowd and
of their leader.

"He retort !" cried Haredale. "Look you here, my lord.
Do you know tliis man ? "

Lord George replied by laying his hand upon the shoulder
of his cringing secretary, and viewing him with a smile of
confidence.

This man," said ]\Ir. Haredale, eying liim from top to toe,

a 'l

378 BAIiNABY RUDGE.

" who in his boyhood was a thief, and has been from that
time to this, a servile, false, and truckling knave : this man,
who has crawled and crept through life, wounding the hands
he licked, and biting those he fawned upon : this sycophant,
who never knew what honor, truth, or courage meant; who
robbed his benefactor's daughter of her virtue, and married
her to break her heart, and did it, with stripes and cruelty :
this creature, who has whined at kitchen windows for the
broken food, and begged for halfpence at our chapel doors :
this apostle of the faith, whose tender conscience cannot bear
the altars where his vicious life was publicly denounced. — Do
you know this man ? "

" Oh, really — you are ver}^, very hard upon our friend ! "
exclaimed Sir John.

*'Let Mr. Haredale go on," said Gashford, upon whose
unwholesome face the perspiration had broken out during this
speech, in blotches of wet ; '' I don't mind him, Sir John ;
it's quite as indifferent to me what he says, as it is to my
lord. If he reviles my lord, as you have heard, Sir John, how
can I hope to escape ? "

" Is it not enough, my lord," Mr. Haredale continued,
'• that I, as good a gentleman as you, must hold my property,
such as it is, by a trick at which the state connives because of
these hard laws ; and that we may not teach our youth in
schools the common principles of right and wrong ; but must
we be denounced and ridden by such men as this ! Here is a
man to head your Xo-Popery cry ! For shame. For shame !"

The infatuated nobleman had glanced more than once at
Sir John Chester, as if to inquire whether there was any
truth in these statements concerning Gashford, and Sir John
had as often plainly answered by a shrug or look, " Oh, dear
me ! no." He now said, in the same loud key, and in the
same strange manner as before, —

" I have nothing to say, sir, in reply, and no desire to hear
anything more. I beg you won't obtrude your conversation,
or these personal attacks, upon me. I shall not be deterred
from doing my duty to my country and my countrymen, by
any such attempts, whether they proceed from emissaries of
the Pope or not, I assure you. Come, Gashford ! "

BAENABY BUDGE. 379

They had walked on a few paces while speaking, and were
now at the Hall-door, through which they passed together.
Mr. Haredale, without any leave-taking, turned away to the
river stairs, which were close at hand, and hailed the only
boatman who remained there.

But the throng of people — the foremost of whom had
heard every word that Lord George Gordon said, and among
all of whom the rumor had been rapidly dispersed that the
stranger was a papist who was bearding him for his advocacy
of the popular cause — came pouring out pell-mell, and,
forcing the nobleman, his secretary, and Sir John Chester on
before them, so that they appeared to be at their head,
crowded to the top of the stairs where Mr. Haredale waited
until the boat was ready, and there stood still, leaving him on
a little clear space by himself.

They were not silent, however, though inactive. At first
some indistinct mutterings arose among them, which were
followed by a hiss or two, and these swelled by degrees into
a perfect storm. Then one voice said, '- Down with the
Papists ! " and there was a pretty general cheer, but nothing
more. After a lull of a few moments, one man cried out,
" Stone him ; '- another, " Duck him ; " another, in a stentorian
voice, " No Popery ! " This favorite cry the rest re-echoed,
and the mob, which might have been two hundred strong,
joined in a general shout.

Mr. Haredale had stood calmly on the brink of the steps,
until they made this demonstration, when he looked round
contemptuously, and walked at a slow pace down the stairs.
He was pretty near the boat, when Gashford, as if without
intention, turned about, and directly afterwards a great stone
was thrown by some hand, in the crowd, which struck him on
the head, and made him stagger like a drunken man.

The blood sprung freely from the wound, and trickled down
his coat. He turned directly, and rusliing up the steps
witli a boldness and passion which made them all fall back,
demanded, —

" Who did that ? Show me the man who liit me."

Not a soul moved ; except some in the rear who slunk off,
and, escaping to the other side of the way, looked on like
indifferent spectators.

380 BABNABY BUDGE.

" Who did that ? " he repeated. " Show me the man who
did it. Dog, was it you ? It was your deed, if not your hand
— I know you."

He threw himself on Gashford as he said the words, and
hurled him to the ground. There was a sudden motion in
the crowd, and some laid hands upon him, but his sword was
out, and they fell off again.

" My lord — Sir John," — he cried, " draw, one of you — you
are responsible for this outrage, and I look to you. Draw, if
you are gentlemen." With that he struck Sir John upon the
breast with the flat of his weapon, and with a burning face
and flashing eyes stood upon his guard ; alone, before them
all.

For an instant, for the briefest space of time the mind can
readily conceive, there was a change in Sir John's smooth
face, such as no man ever saw there. The next moment, he
stepped forward, and laid one hand on Mr. Haredale's arm,
while with the other he endeavored to appease the crowd.

" My dear friend, my good Haredale, you are blinded with
passion — it's very natural, extremely natural — but you don't
know friends from foes."

" I know them all, sir, I can distinguish well " — he
retorted, almost mad with rage. '• Sir John, Lord George —
do you hear me ? Are you cowards ? "

"Never mind, sir," said a man, forcing his way between
and pushing him towards the stairs with friendly violence,
" never mind asking that. For God's sake, get away. What
ca7i you do against this number ? And there are as many
more in the next street, who'll be round directly," — indeed
they began to pour in as he said the words — " you'd be giddy
from that cut, in the first heat of a scuffle. Xow do retire,
sir, or take my word for it you'll be worse used than you
would be if every man in the crowd was a woman, and that
woman Bloody Mary. Come, sir, make haste — as quick as
you can."

jNIr. Haredale, who began to turn faint and sick, felt how
sensible this advice was, and descended the steps with his
unknown friend's assistance. John Grueby (for John it was),
helped him into the boat, and giving her a shove off, which

GASHFORD STRUCK DOWN.

BAENABY BUDGE. 381

sent her thirty feet into the tide, bade the waterman pull
away like a Briton ; and walked up again as composedly as if
he had just landed.

There was at first a slight disposition on the part of the
mob to resent this interference ; but John looking particularly
strong and cool, and wearing besides Lord George's livery,
they thought better of it, and contented themselves with
sending a shower of small missiles about the boat, which
plashed harmlessly in the water ; for she had by this time
cleared the bridge, and was darting swiftly down the centre
of the stream.

From this amusement, they proceeded to giving Protestant
knocks at the doors of private houses, breaking a few lamps,
and assaulting some stray constables. But, it being whispered
that a detachment of Life Guards had been sent for, they
took to their heels with great expedition, and left the street
quite clear.

382 BAIiyABY liUDGE.

CHAPTEE XLIY.

Whex the concourse separated, and, dividing into chance
clusters, drew off in various directions, there still remained
upon the scene of the late disturbance, one man. This man
was Gashford, who, bruised by his late fall, and hurt in a
much greater degree by the indignity he had undergone, and
the exposure of which he had been the victim, limped up and
down, breathing curses and threats of vengeance.

It was not the secretary's nature to waste his wrath in
words. While he vented the froth of his malevolence in these
effusions, he kept a steady eye on two men, who, having dis-
appeared with the rest when the alarm w^as spread, had since
returned, and were now visible in the moonlight, at no great
distance, as they walked to any fro, and talked together.

He made no move towards them, but waited patiently on
the dark side of the street, until the}' were tired of strolling
backwards and forwards and walked away in company. Then
he followed, but at some distance : keeping them in view,
without appearing to have that object, or being seen by them.

They went up Parliament Street, past Saint Martin's church,
and away by Saint Giles's to Tottenham Court Road, at the
back of which, upon the western side, was then a place called
the Green Lanes. This was a retired spot, not of the choicest
kind, leading into the fields. Great heaps of ashes ; stagnant
pools, overgrown with rank grass and duckweed ; broken
turnstiles ; and the upright posts of palings long since carried
off for firewood, which menaced all heedless walkers with their
jagged and rusty nails ; were the leading features of the land-
scape ; while here and there a donkey, or a ragged horse,
tethered to a stake, and cropping off a w^retched meal from the
coarse stunted turf, were quite in keeping with the scene, and
would have suggested (if the houses had not done so, suffi-
ciently, of themselves) how very poor the people were who lived

BAENABY RUDGE. 383

ill the crazy huts adjacent, and how fool-hardy it might prove
for one who carried money, or wore decent clothes, to walk
that way alone, unless by daylight.

Poverty has its whims and shows of taste, as wealth has.
Some of these cabins were turreted, some had false windows
painted on their rotten walls ; one had a mimic clock upon a
crazy tower of four feet high, which screened the chimney ;
each in its little patch of ground had a rude seat or arbor.
The population dealt in bones, in rags, in broken glass, in
old wheels, in birds, and dogs. These, in their several ways
of stowage, filled the gardens ; and shedding a perfume, not
of the most delicious nature, in the air, filled it besides with
yelps, and screams, and howling.

Into this retreat, the secretary followed the two men whom
he had held in sight; and here he saw them safely lodged, in
one of the meanest houses, which was but a room, and that of
small dimensions. He waited without, until the sound of
their voices, joined in a discordant song, assured him they
were making merry ; and then approaching the door, by means
of a tottering plank which crossed the ditch in front, knocked
at it with his hand.

" Muster Gashford ! " said the man who opened it, taking
his pipe from his mouth, in evident surprise. " Why, who'd
have thought of this here honor ! AValk in, Muster Gashford
— walk in, sir."

Gashford required no second invitation, and entered with a
gracious air. There was a fire in the rusty grate (for though
the spring was pretty far advanced, the nights were cold), and
on a stool beside it Hugh sat smoking. Dennis placed a chair,
his only one, for the secretary, in front of the hearth ; and
took his seat again upon the stool he had left when he rose to
give the visitor admission.

" What's in the wind now. Muster Gashford ? " he said, as
he resumed his pipe, and looked at him askew. " Any orders
from headquarters ? Are we going to begin ? What is it.
Muster Gashford?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," rejoined the secretary with a
friendly nod to Hugh. "We have broken the ice, though.
We had a little spurt to-day — eh, Dennis ? "

384 BARNABY BUDGE.

"A very little one," growled the hangman. "Not half
enough for me."

" Nor me neither ! " cried Hugh. " Give us something to do
with life in it — with life in it, master. Ha, ha ! "

" Why, you wouldn't," said the secretary, with his worst
expression of face, and in his mildest tones, " have anything
to do, -with. — with death in it ? "

" I don't know that," replied Hugh. " I'm open to orders.
I don't care ; not I."

" Nor I ! " vociferated Dennis.

" Brave fellows ! " said the secretary, in as pastor-like a
voice as if he were commending them for some uncommon act
of valor and generosity. " By-the-by " — and here he
stopped and warmed his hands: then suddenly looked up —
" who threw that stone to-day ? "

Mr. Dennis coughed and shook his head, as who should say,
" A mystery indeed ! " Hugh sat and smoked in silence.

" It was well done ! " said the secretary, warming his hands
again. " I should like to know that man."

"Would you?" said Dennis, after looking at his face to
assure himself that he was serious. "Would you like to
know that man, Muster Gashford ? "

" I should indeed," replied the secretary.

"Why then, Lord love you," said the hangman, in his
hoarsest chuckle, as he pointed with his pipe to Hugh, " there
he sets. That's the man. ^My stars and halters. Muster
Gashford," he added in a whisper, as he drew his stool close
to him and jogged him with his elbow, "what a interesting
blade he is ! He wants as much holding in as a thorough-
bred bulldog. If it hadn't been for me to-day, he'd have had
that 'ere Boman down, and made a riot of it, in another
minute."

"And why not ? " cried Hugh in a surly voice, as he over-
heard this last remark. " Where's the good of putting things
off ? Strike while the iron's hot ; that's what I say."

" Ah ! " retorted Dennis, shaking his head, with a kind of
pity for his friend's ingenuous youth; "but suppose the iron
ain't hot, brother ? You must get people's blood up afore you
strike, and have 'em in the humor. There wasn't quite

BABNABY BUDGE. 385

enough to provoke 'em to-day, I tell you. If you'd had your
way, you'd have spoilt the fun to come, and ruined us."

" Dennis is quite right," said Gashford, smoothly. " He is
perfectly correct. Dennis has great knowledge of the world."

"I ought to have. Muster Gashford, seeing what a many
people I've helped out of it, eh ? " grinned the hangman,
whispering the words behind his hand.

The secretary laughed at this, just as much as Dennis could
desire, and when he had done, said, turning to Hugh, —

"Dennis's policy was mine, as you may have observed.
You saw, for instance, how I fell when I was set upon. I
made no resistance. I did nothing to provoke an outbreak.
Oh dear no ! "

" No, by the Lord Harry ! " cried Dennis with a noisy
laugh, " you went down very quiet, Muster Gashford — and
very flat besides. I thinks to myself at the time 'it's all up
with IMuster Gashford ! ' I never see a man lay flatter nor
more still — with the life in him — than you did to-day. He's
a rough 'un to play with, is that 'ere Papist, and that's the
fact."

The secretary's face, as Dennis roared with laughter, and
turned his wrinkled eyes on Hugh who did the like, might
have furnished a study for the Devil's picture. He sat quite
silent until they were serious again, and then said, looking
round, —

" We are very pleasant here ; so very pleasant, Dennis,
that but for my lord's particular desire that I should sup with
him, and the time being very near at hand, I should be
inclined to stay, until it would be hardly safe to go homeward.
I come upon a little business — yes, I do — as you supposed.
It's very flattering to you ; being this. If we ever should be
obliged — and we can't tell, you know — this is a very uncer-
tain world " —

" I believe you, Muster Gashford," interposed the hangman
with a grave nod. " The uncertainties as I've seen in refer-
ence to this here state of existence, the unexpected contin-
gencies as have come about ! — Oh my eye ! " Feeling the
subject much too vast for expression, he puffed at his i)ipe
again, and looked the rest.

VOL. I.

386 BABNABY BUDGE.

"I say," resumed the secretary, in a slow, impressive wa}- ;
" we can't tell what may come to pass ; and if we should be
obliged against our wills, to have recourse to violence, my
lord (who has suffered terribly to-day as far as words can
go) consigns to you two — bearing in mind my recommenda-
tion of you both, as good stanch men, beyond all doubt and
suspicion — the pleasant task of punishing this Haredale.
You may do as you please with him or his, provided that you
show no mercy, and no quarter, and leave no two beams
of his house standing where the builder placed them. You
may sack it, burn it, do with it as you like, but it must come
down ; it must be razed to the ground ; and he, and all
belonging to him, left as shelterless as new-born infants
whom their mothers have exposed. Do you understand me ? "
said Gashford, pausing and pressing his hands together
gently.

" Understand you, master ! " cried Hugh. ^' You speak
plain now. Why, this is hearty ! "

'• I knew you would like it," said Gashford, shaking him
by the hand ; " I thought you would. Good-night ! Don't
rise, Dennis : I would rather find my way alone. I may
have to make other visits here, and it's pleasant to come and
go without disturbing you. I can find my way perfectly well.
Good-night ! "

He was gone, and had shut the door behind him. They
looked at each other, and nodded approvingly : Dennis stirred
up the fire.

" This looks a little more like business I " he said.

"Ay, indeed ! " cried Hugh ; " this suits me ! "

"I've heerd it said of Muster Gashford," said the hang-
man, "that he'd a surprising memory and wonderful firmness
— that he never forgot, and never forgave. — Let's drink his
health ! "

Hugh readily complied — pouring no liquor on the floor
when he drank this toast — and they pledged the secretary as
a man after their own hearts in a bumper.

BAHyAUr IIULGE. 38/

CHAPTER XLV.

While the worst passions of the worst men were thus
working in the dark, and the mantle of religion, assumed to
cover the ugliest deformities, threatened to become the sliroud
of all that was good and peaceful in society, a circumstance
occurred which once more altered the position of two persons
from whom this history has long been separated, and to
whom it must now return.

In a small English country town, the inhabitants of which
supported themselves by the labor of their hands in plaiting
and preparing straw for those who made bonnets and other
articles of dress and ornament from that material, — concealed
under an assumed name, and living in a quiet poverty which
knew no change, no pleasures, and few cares but that of
struggling on from day to day in the one great toil for bread,
— dwelt Barnaby and his mother. Their poor cottage had
known no stranger's foot since they sought the shelter of its
roof five years before ; nor had they in all that time held any
commerce or communication with the old world from which
they had fled. To labor in peace, and devote her labor and
her life to her poor son, was all the widow sought. If happiness
can be said at any time to be the lot of one on whom a secret
sorrow preys, she was happy now. Tranquillity, resignation,
and her strong love of him who needed it so much, formed
the small circle of her quiet joys ; and while that remained
unbroken, she was contented.

For Barnaby himself, the time which had flown by had
passed him like the wind. The daily suns of 3-ears had shed
no brighter gleam of reason on his mind ; no dawn had
broken on his long, dark night. He would sit sometimes —
often for days together — on a low seat by the fire or by the
cottage door, busy at work (for he had learned the art his
mother plied), and listening, God help him, to the tales she

388 BABNABT BUDGE.

would repeat as a lure to keep Liiu in her sight. He had no
recollection of these little narratives ; the tale of yesterday
was new upon the morrow ; but he liked them at the
moment; and when the humor held him, would remain
patiently within doors, hearing her stories like a little child,
and working cheerfully from sunrise until it was too dark to
see.

At other times, — and then their scanty earnings were barely
sufficient to furnish them with food, though of the coarsest
sort, — he would wander abroad from dawn of da}^ until the
twilight deepened into night. Few in that place, even of the
children, could be idle, and he had no companions of his own
kind. Indeed there were not many who could have kept up
with him in his rambles, had there been a legion. But
there were a score of vagabond dogs belonging to the
neighbors, who served his purpose quite as well. With two
or three of these, or sometimes with a full half-dozen barking
at his heels, he would sally forth on some long expedition that
consumed the day ; and though on their return at nightfall^
the dogs would come home limping and sore-footed, and
almost spent with their fatigue, Barnaby was up and off again
at sunrise with some new attendants of the same class, with
whom he would return in like manner. On all these travels.
Grip, in his little basket at his master's back, was a constant
member of the party, and, when they set off in fine weather
and in high spirits, no dog barked louder than the raven.

Their pleasures on these excursions were simple enough.
A crust of bread and scrap of meat, with water from the
brook or spring, sufficed for their repast. Barnaby 's enjoy-
ments were, to walk, and run, and leap, till he was tired;
then to lie down on the long grass, or by the growing corn,
or in the shade of some tall tree, looking upward at the
light clouds as they floated over the blue surface of the sky,
and listening to the lark as she poured out her brilliant song.
There were wild flowers to pluck — the bright red poppy, the
gentle harebell, the cowslip, and the rose. There were birds
to watch ; fish ; ants ; worms ; hares or rabbits, as they
darted across the distant pathway in the wood and so were
gone : millions of living things to have an interest in, and lie

BARNABY BUDGE. 389

in wait for, and clap hands and shout in memory of, when
they had disappeared. In default of these, or when they
wearied, there was the merr}^ sunlight to hunt out, as it crept
in aslant through leaves and boughs of trees, and hid far
down — deep, deep, in hollow places — like a silver pool, where
nodding branches seemed to bathe and sport ; sweet scents of
summer air breathing over fields of beans or clover; the
perfume of wet leaves or moss ; the life of waving trees, and
shadows always changing. When these or any of them tired,
or in excess of pleasing tempted him to shut his eyes, there
was slumber in the midst of all these soft delights, with the
gentle wind murmuring like music in his ears, and everything
around melting into one delicious dream.

Their hut — for it was little more — stood on the outskirts
of the town, at a short distance from the high road, but in a
secluded place^ where few chance passengers strayed at any
season of the year. It had a plot of garden-ground attached,
which Barnaby, in fits and starts of working, trimmed, and
kept in order. Within doors and without, his mother
labored for their common good ; and hail, rain, snow, or
sunshine, found no difference in her.

Though so far removed from the scenes of her past life,
and with so little thought or hope of ever visiting them again,
she seemed to have a strange desire to know what happened
in the busy world. Any old newspaper, or scrap of intelli-
gence from London, she caught at with avidity. The excite-
ment it produced was not of a pleasurable kind, for her
manner at such times expressed the keenest anxiety and dread ;
but it never faded in the least degree. Then, and in stormy
winter nights, when the wind blew loud and strong, the old
expression came into her face, and she would be seized with a
fit of trembling, like one who had an ague. But Barnaby
noted little of this ; and putting a great constraint upon
herself, she usually recovered her accustomed manner before
the change had caught his observation.

Grip was by no means an idle or unprofitable member of
the humble household. Partly by dint of Barnaby's tuition,
and partly by pursuing a species of self-instruction common
to his tribe, and exerting his powers of observation to tlie

390 BABNABY BUDGE.

utmost, he had acquired a degree of sagacity which rendered
him famous for miles round. His conversational powers and
surprising performances were the universal theme; and as
many persons came to see the wonderful raven, and none left
his exertions unrewarded — when he condescended to exhibit,
which was not always, for genius is capricious — his earnings
formed an important item in the common stock. Indeed, the
bird himself appeared to know his value well; for though
he was perfectly free and unrestrained in the presence of
Barnaby and his mother, he maintained in public an amazing
gravity, and never stooped to any other gratuitous per-
formances than biting the ankles of vagabond boys (an
exercise in which he much delighted), killing a fowl or two
occasionally, and swallowing the dinners of various neigh-
boring dogs, of whom the boldest held him in great awe and
dread.

Time had glided on in this way, and nothing had happened
to disturb or change their mode of life, when, one summer's
night in June, they were in their little garden, resting from
the labors of the day. The widow's work was yet upon her
knee, and strewn upon the ground about her ; and Barnaby
stood leaning on his spade, gazing at the brightness in the
west, and singing softly to himself.

" A brave evening, mother ! If we had, chinking in our
pockets, but a few specks of that gold which is piled up
yonder in the sky, we should be rich for life."

"We are better as we are," returned the widow with a
quiet smile. ''Let us be contented, and we do not want
and need not care to have it, though it lay shining at our
feet."

" Ay ! " said Barnaby, resting with crossed arms on his
spade, and looking wistfully at the sunset, "that's well
enough, mother ; but gold's a good thing to have. I wish
that I knew where to find it. Grip and I could do much with
gold, be sure of that."

" What would you do ? " she asked.

" What ! A world of things. We'd dress finely — you and
I, I mean ; not Grip — keep horses, dogs, wear bright colors
and feathers, do no more work, live delicately and at our ease.

BAliNABT BUDGE. 391

Oh, we'd find uses for it, mother, and uses that would do us
good. I would I knew where gold was buried. How hard I'd
work to dig it up ! ''

" You do not know," said his mother, rising from her seat,
and laying her hand upon his shoulder, "what men have done
to win it, and how they have found, too late, that it glitters
briglitest at a distance, and turns quite dim and dull when
handled.''

'' Ay, ay ; so you say ; so you think," he answered, still
looking eagerly in the same direction. '• For all that, mother,
I should like to try."

" Do you not see," she said, " how red it is ? Nothing
bears so many stains of blood, as gold. Avoid it. None
have such cause to hate its name as we have. Do not so
much as think of it, dear love. It has brought such misery
and suffering on your head and mine as few have known, and
God grant few may have to undergo. I would rather we
w6re dead and laid down in our graves, than you should ever
come to love it."

For a moment Barnaby withdrew his eyes and looked at
her with wonder. Then, glancing from the redness in the
sky to the mark upon his wrist as if he would compare the
two, he seemed about to question her with earnestness, when
a new object caught his wandering attention, and made him
quite forgetful of his purpose.

This was a man with dusty feet and garments, who stood,
bareheaded, behind the hedge that divided their patch or
garden from the pathway, and leaned meekly forward as if he
sought to mingle with their conversation, and waited for his
time to speak. His face was turned" towards the brightness,
too, but the light that fell upon it showed that he was blind,
and saw it not.

''A blessing on those voices ! " said the wayfarer. " I feel
the beauty of the night more keenly, wlien I hear them.
They are like eyes to me. Will they speak again, and cheer
the heart of a poor traveller ? "

" Have you no guide ? " asked the widow, after a moment's
pause.

" None but that," he answered, i)uinting with liis staff

392 BARNABY BUDGE.

towards the sun ; " and sometimes a milder one at night, but
she is idle now."

" Have you travelled far ? "

" A weary way and long," rejoined the traveller as he
shook his head. " A weary, weary, way. I struck my stick
just now upon the bucket of your well — be pleased to let me
have a draught of water, lady."

" Why do you call me lady ? " she returned. " I am as
poor as you."

" Your speech is soft and gentle, and I judge by that,"
replied the man. " The coarsest stuffs and finest silks, are —
apart from the sense of touch — alike to me. I cannot judge
you by your dress."

" Come round this way," said Barnaby, who had passed out
at the garden gate and now stood close beside him. "Put
your hand in mine. You're blind and always in the dark, eh ?
Are you frightened in the dark ? Do you see great crowds of
faces, now ? Do they grin and chatter ? "

" Alas ! " returned the other, " I see nothing. Waking or
sleeping, nothing."

Barnaby looked curiously at his eyes, and touching them
with his fingers, as an inquisitive child might, led him towards
the house.

" You have come a long distance," said the widow, meet-
ing him at the door. How have you found your way so
far ? "

"Use and necessity are good teachers, as I have heard —
the best of any," said the blind man, sitting down upon the
chair to which Barnaby had led him, and putting his hat and
stick upon the red-tiled floor. "May neither you nor your son
ever learn under them. They are rough masters."

" You have wandered from the road, too," said the widow,
in a tone of pity.

" Maybe, maybe," returned the blind man with a sigh, and
yet with something of a smile upon his face, " that's likely.
Handposts and milestones are dumb, indeed, to me. Thank
you the more for this rest, and this refreshing drink ! "

As he spoke, he raised the mug of water to his mouth. It
was clear, and cold, and sparkling, but not to his taste never-

BABNABY BUDGE. 393

theless, or his thirst was not very great, for he only wetted
his lips and put it down again.

He wore, hanging with a long strap round his neck, a kind
of scrip or wallet, in which to carry food. The widow set
some bread and cheese before him, but he thanked her, and
said that through the kindness of the charitable he had broken
his fast once since morning, and was not hungry. When he
made her this reply, he opened his Avallet, and took out a few
pence, which was all it appeared to contain.

"Might I make bold to ask," he said, turning towards
where Barnaby stood looking on, " that one who has the gift
of sight, would lay this out for me in bread to keep me on
my way ? Heaven's blessing on the young feet that will
bestir themselves in aid of one so helpless as a sightless
man ! "

Barnaby looked at his mother, who nodded assent ; in
another moment he was gone upon his charitable errand. The
blind man sat listening with an attentive face, until long after
the sound of his retreating footsteps was inaudible to the
widow, and then said, suddenly, and in a very altered tone, —

" There are various degrees and kinds of blindness, widow.
There is the connubial blindness, ma'am, which perhaps you
may have observed in the course of your own experience, and
which is a kind of wilful and self-bandaging blindness. There
is the blindness of party, ma'am, and public men, which is the
blindness of a mad bull in the midst of a regiment of soldiers
clothed in red. There is the blind confidence of youth, which
is the blindness of young kittens, whose eyes have not yet
opened on the world ; and there is that physical blindness,
ma'am, of which I am, contrairy to my own desire, a most
illustrious example. Added to these, ma'am, is that blindness
of the intellect, of which we have a specimen in your interest-
ing son, and which, having sometimes glimmerings and dawn-
ings of the light, is scarcely to be trusted as a total darkness.
Therefore, ma'am, I have taken the liberty to get him out of
the way for a short time, while you and I confer together, and
this precaution arising out of the delicacy of my sentiments
towards yourself, you will excuse me, ma'am, I know."

Having delivered himself of this speech witli many flourishes

394 BAUNABY BUDGE.

of manner, he drew from beneath his coat a flat stone bottle,
and holding the cork between his teeth, qualified his mug of
water with a plentiful infusion of the liquor it contained.
He politely drained the bumper to her health, and the ladies,
and setting it down empty, smacked his lips with infinite
relish.

"I am a citizen of the world, ma'am," said the blind man,
corking his bottle, " and if I seem to conduct myself with
freedom, it is therefore. You wonder who I am, ma'am, and
what has brought me here. Such experience of human nature
as I have, leads me to that conclusion, without the aid of eyes
by which to read the movements of your soul as depicted in
your feminine features. I will satisfy your curiosity imme-
diately, ma'am ; im-mediately." With that he slapped his
bottle on its broad back, and having put it under his garment
as before, crossed his legs and folded his hands, and settled
himself in his chair, previous to proceeding any further.

The change in his manner was so unexpected, the craft and
wickedness of his deportment were so much aggravated by his
condition — for we are accustomed to see in those who have
lost a human sense, something in its place almost divine —
and this alteration bred so many fears in her whom he
addressed, that she could not pronounce one word. After
waiting, as it seemed, for some remark or answer, and waiting
in vain, the visitor resumed, —

"Madam, my name is Stagg. A friend of mine who has
desired the honor of meeting with you any time these five
years past, has commissioned me to call upon you. I should
be glad to whisper that gentleman's name in your ear. —
Zounds, ma'am, are you deaf ? Do you hear me say that I
should be glad to whisper my friend's name in your ear ? "

" You need not repeat it," said the widow, with a stifled
groan ; " I see too well from whom you come."

"But as a man of honor, ma'am," said the blind man,
striking himself on the breast, " whose credentials must not
be disputed, I take leave to say that I will mention that gentle-
man's name. Ay, ay," he added, seeming to catch with his
quick ear the very motion of her hand, " but not aloud. With
your leave, ma'am, I desire the favor of a whisper."

BABNABY BUDGE. 395

She moved towards him, and stooped down. He muttered
a word in her ear; and, wringing her hands, she paced up
and down the room like one distracted. The blind man, with
perfect composure, produced his bottle again, mixed another
glassful ; put it up as before ; and, drinking from time to
time, followed her with his face in silence.

"You are slow in conversation, widow," he said after a
time, pausing in his draught. '' We shall have to talk before
your son."

" What would you have me do ? " she answered. " What
do you want ? "

"We are poor, widow, we are poor," he retorted, stretching
out his right hand, and rubbing his thumb upon its palm.

" Poor ! " she cried. " And what am I ? "

" Comparisons are odious," said the blind man. "' I don't
know, I don't care. I say that we are poor. My friend's
circumstances are indifferent, and so are mine. We must
have our rights, widow, or we must be bought off. But you
know that, as well as I, so where is the use of talking ? "

She still walked wildly to and fro. At length, stopping
abruptly before him, she said, —

" Is he near here ? "

" He is. Close at hand."

" Then I am lost ! "

"Not lost, widow," said the blind man, calmly; "only
found. Shall I call him ? "

" Not for the world," she answered with a shudder.

"Very good," he replied, crossing his legs again, for he
had made as though he would rise and walk to the door.
" As you please, widow. His presence is not necessary that
I know of. Bnt both he and I must live ; to live, we must
eat and drink ; to eat and drink, we must have money : — I
say no more."

"Do you know how pinched and destitute I am?" she
retorted. " I do not think you do, or can. If you had eyes,
and could look around you on this poor place, you would have
pity on me. Oh ! let your heart be softened by your own
affliction, friend, and have some sympathy with mine."

The blind man snapped his lingers as he answered, —

396 BABNABY BUDGE.

" — Beside the question, ma'am, beside the question. T
have the softest heart in the world, but I can't live upon it.
Many a gentleman lives well upon a soft head, who would
find a heart of the same quality a very great drawback.
Listen to me. This is a matter of business, with which
sympathies and sentiments have nothing to do. As a mutual
friend, I wish to arrange it in a satisfactory manner, if pos-
sible ; and thus the case stands. — If you are very poor now,
it's your own choice. You have friends who, in case of
need, are always ready to help you. My friend is in a more
destitute and desolate situation than most men, and you and
he being linked together in a common cause, he naturally
looks to you to assist him. He has boarded and lodged with
me a long time (for as I said just now, I am very soft-hearted),
and I quite approve of his entertaining this opinion. You
have always had a roof over your head ; he has always been
an outcast. You have your son to comfort and assist you ;
he has nobody at all. The- advantages must not be all one
side. You are in the same boat, and we must divide the bal-
last a little more equally."

She was about to speak, but he checked her and went on.

" The only way of doing this, is by making up a little purse
now and then for my friend ; and that's what I advise. He
bears you no malice that I know of, ma'am : so little, that
although you have treated him harshly more than once, and
driven him, I may say, out of doors, he has that regard for
you that I believe, even if you disappointed him now, he
would consent to take charge of your son, and to make a man
of him."

He laid a great stress on these latter words, and paused as
if to find out what effect they had produced. She only
answered by her tears.

"He is a likely lad," said the blind man, thoughtfully,
"for many purposes, and not ill-disposed to try his fortune in
a little change and bustle, if I may judge from what I heard
of his talk with you to-night. — Come. In a word, my friend
has pressing necessity for twenty pounds. You, who can give
up an annuity, can get that sum for him. It's a pity you
should be troubled. You seem very comfortable here, and

BARNABY BUDGE. 397

it's worth that much to remain so. Twenty pounds, widow,
is a moderate demand. You know where to apply for it ; a
post will bring it you. — Twenty pounds ! "

She was about to answer him again, but again he stopped
her.

" Don't say anything hastily ; you might be sorry for it.
Think of it a little while. Twenty pounds — of other people's
money — how easy ! Turn it over in your mind. I'm in no
hurry. Night's coming on, and if I don't sleep here, I shall
not go far. Twenty pounds ! Consider of it, ma'am, for
twenty minutes ; give each pound a minute ; that's a fair
allowance. I'll enjoy the air the while, which is very mild
and pleasant in these parts."

With these words, he groped his way to the door, carrying
his chair with him. Then seating himself, under a spreading
honeysuckle, and stretching his legs across the threshold so
that no person could pass in or out without his knowledge, he
took from his pocket a pipe, flint, steel, and tinder-box, and
began to smoke. It was a lovely evening, of that gentle kind,
and at that time of year, when the twilight is most beautiful.
Pausing now and then to let his smoke curl slowly off, and to
sniff the grateful fragrance of the flowers, he sat there at his
ease — as though the cottage were his proper dwelling, and he
had held undisputed possession of it all his life — waiting for
the widow's answer and for Barnaby's return.

398 BAByABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XLVI.

When Barnaby returned with the bread, the sight of the
pious old pilgriru smoking his pipe and making himself so
thoroughly at home, appeared to surprise even him ; the more
so, as that worthy person, instead of putting up the loaf in
his wallet as a scarce and precious article, tossed it carelessly
on the table, and producing his bottle, bade him sit down and
drink.

" For I carry some comfort you see,'' he said. ^' Taste that.
Is it good ? "

The water stood in Barnaby's eyes as he coughed from the
strength of the draught, and answered in the affirmative.

" Drink some more," said the blind man ; " don't be afraid
of it. You don't taste anything like that, often, eh ? "

" Often ! " cried Barnaby. " Xever ! "

"Too poor ?" returned the blind man with a sigh. "Ay.
That's bad. Your mother, poor soul, would be happier if she
was richer, Barnaby."

"Why, so I tell her — the very thing I told her just before
you came to-night, when all that gold was in the sky," said
Barnaby, drawing his chair nearer to him, and looking eagerly
in his face. " Tell me. Is there any way of being rich, that
I c<Duld find out ? "

" Any way ! A hundred ways."

" Ay, ay ? " he returned. " Do you say so ? What are
they? — ISTay, mother, it's for your sake I ask; not mine; —
for yours, indeed. What are they ? "

The blind man turned his face, on which there was a smile
of triumph, to where the widow stood in great distress ; and
answered, —

" Why, they are not to be found out by stay-at-homes, my
good friend."

"By stay-at-homes ! " cried Barnab}', plucking at his sleeve.

BARXABY BUDGE. 399

^'But I am not one. Now, there you mistake. I am often
out before the sun, and travel home when he has gone to rest.
I am away in the woods before the day has reached the shady
places, and am often there when the bright moon is peeping
through the boughs, and looking down upon the other moon
that lives in water. As I walk along, I try to find, among
the grass and moss, some of that small money for which she
works so hard and used to shed so many tears. As I lie
asleep in the shade I dream of it — dream of digging it up in
heaps ; and spying it out, hidden under bushes ; and seeing it
sparkle, as the dewdrops do, among the leaves. But I never
find it. Tell me where it is. I'd go there, if the journey
were a whole year long, because I know she would be happier
when I came home and brought some with me. Speak again.
I'll listen to you if you talk all night."

The blind man passed his hand lightly over the poor
fellow's face, and finding that his elbows were planted on the
table, that his chin rested on his two hands, that he leaned
eagerly forward, and that his whole manner expressed the
utmost interest and anxiety, paused for a minute as though he
desired the widow to observe this fully, and then made answer:

" It's in the world, bold Barnaby, the merry world ; not in
solitary places like those you pass your time in, but in
crowds, and where there's noise and rattle."

''Good! good!" cried Barnaby, rubbing his hands "Yes!
I love that. Grip loves it too. It suits us botli. That's
brave ! "

" — The kind of places," said the blind man, "that a young
fellow likes, and in which a good son may do more for his
mother, and himself to boot, in a month, than he could here
in all his life — that is, if he had a friend, you know, and
some one to advise with."

" You hear this, mother ? " cried Barnaby, turning to her
with delight. "Never tell me we sliouldn't heed it, if it la}'
shining at our feet, Wliy do we heed it so much now ?
Why do you toil from morning until night ? "

"Surely," said tlie blind man, "surrh'. Have you no
answer, widow ? Is your mind," he slowly added, - not made
up yet V "

400 BARNABY BUDGE.

" Let me speak with you," she answered, " apart."

" Lay your hand upon my sleeve," said Stagg, rising from
the table ; " and lead me where you will. Courage, bold
Barnaby. We'll talk more of this : I've a fancy for you.
Wait there till I come back. Xow, widow."

She led him out at the door, and into the little garden,
where they stopped.

" You are a fit agent," she said, in a half breathless manner,
" and well represent the man who sent you here."

" I'll tell him that you said so," Stagg retorted. " He has
a regard for you, and will respect me the more (if possible)
for your praise. We must have our rights, widow."

'' Rights ! Do you know," she said, " that a word from
me" —

" Why do you stop ? " returned the blind man calmly,
after a long pause. '• Do I know that a word from you would
place my friend in the last position of the dance of life ?
Yes, I do. What of that ? It will never be spoken, widow."

" You are sure of that ? "

"Quite — so sure, that I don't come here to discuss the
question. I say we must have our rights, or we must be
bought off. Keep to that point, or let me return to my young
friend, for I have an interest in the lad, and desire to put him
in the way of making his fortune. Bah ! you needn't speak,"
he added hastily ; " I know what you would say : you have
hinted at it once already. Have I no feeling for you, because
I am blind ? No, I have not. Why do you expect me, being
in darkness, to be better than men who have their sight —
why should you ? Is the hand of Heaven more manifest in
my having no eyes, than in your having two ? It's the cant
of you folks to be horrified if a blind man robs, or lies, or
steals ; oh yes, it's far worse in him, who can barely live on
the few halfpence that are thrown to him in streets, than in
you, who can see, and work, and are not dependent on the
mercies of the world. A curse on you ! You who have five
senses may be wicked at your pleasure ; we who have four,
and want the most important, are to live and be moral on our
affliction. The true charity and justice of rich to poor, all
the world over ! "

BARNABY BUDGE. 401

He paused a moment when he had said these words, and
caught the sound of mone}^, jingling in her hand.

" Well ? " he cried, quickly resuming his former manner.
"That should lead to something. The point, widow ? "

"First answer me one question," she replied. "You say
he is close at hand. Has he left London ? "

" Being close at hand, widow, it would seem he has,"
returned the blind man.

" I mean for good. You know that."

" Yes, for good. The truth is, widow, that his making a
longer stay there might have had disagreeable consequences.
He has come away for that reason."

" Listen," said the widow, telling some money out, upon a
bench beside them. "Count."

"Six," said the blind man, listening attentively. "Any
more ? "

" They are the savings " she answered " of five years. Six
guineas."

He put out his hand for one of the coins ; felt it carefully,
put it between his teeth, rung it on the bench ; and nodded
to her to proceed.

" These have been scraped together and laid by, lest sick-
ness or death should separate my son and me. They have
been purchased at the price of much liunger, hard labor, and
want of rest. If you ca?i take them — do — on condition that
you leave this place upon the instant, and enter no more into
that room, where he sits now, expecting your return."

"Six guineas," said the blind man, shaking his head,
"though of the fullest weight that were ever coined, fall
very far short of twenty pounds, widow."

" For such a sum, as you know, I must write to a distant part of
the country. To do that,and receive an answer,! must have time."

" Two days ? " said Stagg.

" More."

" Four days ? "

" A week ! Return on this day week, at the same hour, but
not to the house. Wait at the corner of the lane."

"Of course," said the blind man, with a crafty look, "I
shall find you there ? "

402 BARNABY BUDGE.

" Where else can I take refuge ? Is it not enough that you
have made a beggar of me, and that I have sacrificed my
whole store, so hardly earned, to preserve this home ? "

" Humph ! " said the blind man, after some consideration.
'• Set me with my face towards the point you speak of, and in
the middle of the road. Is this the spot ? "

'• It is."

" On this day week at sunset. And think of him within
doors. — For the present, good-night.*'

She made him no answer, nor did he stop for any. He
went slowl}^ awa}^, turning his head from time to time, and
stopping to listen, as if he were curious to know whether he
was watched by any one. The shadows of night were closing
fast around, and he was soon lost in the gloom. It was not,
however, until she had traversed the lane from end to end,
and made sure that he was gone, that she re-entered the
cottage, and hurriedly barred the door and window.

" Mother I '' said Barnaby. '• What is the matter ? Where
is the blind man ? "

"He is gone."

" Gone I " he cried, starting up. '- 1 must have more talk
with him. Which way did he take ? "

"I don't know," she answered, folding her arms about him.
" You must not go out to-night. There are ghosts and dreams
abroad."

" Ay ? " said Barnab}', in a frightened whisper.

" It is not safe to stir. We must leave this place to-morrow."

" This place ! This cottage — and the little garden, mother ! "

"Yes! To-morrow morning at sunrise. We must travel
to London ; lose ourselves in that wide place — there would
be some trace of us in any other town — then travel on again,
and find some new abode."

Little persuasion was required to reconcile Barnaby to any-
thing that promised change. In another minute, he was wild
with delight ; in another, full of grief at the prospect of part-
ing with his friends the dogs ; in another, wild again ; then
he was fearful of what she had said to prevent his wandering
abroad that night, and full of terrors and strange questions.
His light-heartedness in the end surmounted all his other

BARNABY BUDGE. 403

feelings, and lying down in his clothes to the end that he
might be ready on the morrow, he soon fell fast asleep before
the poor turf lire.

His mother did not close her eyes, but sat beside him,
watching. Every breath of wind sounded in her ears like
that dreaded footstep at the door, or like that hand upon the
latch, and made the calm summer night, a night of horror.
At length the welcome day appeared. When she had made
the little preparations which were needful for their journey,
and had prayed upon her knees with many tears, she roused
Barnaby, who jumped up gayly at her summons.

His clothes were few enough, and to carry Grip was a
labor of love. As the sun shed his earliest beams upon the
earth, they closed the door of their deserted home, and turned
away. The sky was blue and bright. The air was fresh and
filled with a thousand perfumes. Barnaby looked upward,
and laughed with all his heart.

But it was a day he usually devoted to a long ramble, and
one of the dogs — the ugliest of them all — came bounding up,
and jumping round him in the fulness of his joy. He had to
bid him go back in a surly tone, and his heart smote him
while he did so. The dog retreated ; turned with a half
incredulous, half imploring look ; came a little back ; and
stopped.

It was the last appeal of an old companion and a faithful
friend — cast off. Barnaby could bear no more, and as he
shook his head and waved his playmate home, he burst into
tears.

"Oh, mother, mother, how mournful he will be when he
scratches at the door, and finds it always shut ! "

There was such a sense of home in the thought, that though
her own eyes overflowed she would not have obliterated the
recollection of it, eitlier from her own mind or from his, fur
the wealth of the whole wide world.

404 BAIiXABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XLVII.

In- the exhaiistless catalogue of Heaven's mercies to man-
kind, the power we have of finding some germs of comfort in
the hardest trials must ever occupy the foremost place ; not
only because it supports and upholds us when we most require
to be sustained, but because in this source of consolation there
is something, we have reason to believe, of the divine spirit ;
something of that goodness which detects amidst our own evil
doings, a redeeming quality ; something which, even in our
fallen nature, we possess in common with the angels ; which
had its being in the old time when they trod the earth, and
lingers on it yet, in pity.

How often, on their journey, did the widow remember with
a grateful heart, tliat out of his deprivation Barnaby's cheer-
fulness and affection sprung ! How often did she call to mind
that but for that, he might have been sullen, morose, unkind,
far removed from her — vicious, perhaps, and cruel ! How
often had she cause for comfort, in his strength, and hope,
and in his simple nature. Those feeble powers of mind which
rendered him so soon forgetful of the past, save in brief
gleams and flashes, — even they were a comfort now. The
world to him was full of happiness ; in every tree, and plant,
and flower, in every bird, and beast, and tiny insect whom a
breath of summer wind laid low upon the ground, he had
delight. His delight was hers ; and where many a wise son
would have made her sorroAvful, this poor light-hearted idiot
filled her breast with thankfulness and love.

Their stock of money was low, but from the hoard she had
told into the blind man's hand, the widow had withheld one
guinea. This, with the few pence she possessed besides, was
to two persons of their frugal habits, a goodly sum in bank.
Moreover they had Grip in company ; and when they must

BARNABY BUDGE. 405

otherwise have changed the guinea, it was but to make him
exhibit outside an alehouse door, or in a village street, or in
the grounds or gardens of a mansion of the better sort, and
scores, who would have given nothing in charity, were ready
to bargain for more amusement from the talking bird.

One day — for they moved slowly, and, although they had
many rides in carts and wagons were on the road a week —
Barnaby with Grip upon his shoulder and his mot'her follow-
ing, begged permission at a trim lodge to go up to the great
house, at the other end of the avenue, and show his raven.
The man within was inclined to give them admittance, and
was indeed about to do so, when a stout gentleman with a
long whip in his hand, and a flushed face which seemed to
indicate that he had had his morning's draught, rode up to the
gate, and called in a loud voice and with more oaths than the
occasion seemed to warrant to have it opened directly.

" Who hast thou got here ? " said the gentleman angrily,
as the man threw the gate wide open, and pulled off his hat,
" who are these ? Eh ? ar't a beggar woman ? "

The widow answered with a courtesy, that they were poor
travellers.

" Vagrants," said the gentleman, " vagrants and vagabonds.
Thee wish to be made acquainted with the cage, dost thee —
the cage, the stocks, and the whipping-post ? Where dost
come from ? "

She told him in a timid manner, — for he was very loud,
hoarse, and red-faced, — and besought liim uot to be angry,
for they meant no harm and would go upon their way that
moment.

" Don't be too sure of that," replied the gentleman, '' we
don't allow vagrants to roam about this place. I know what
thou want'st — stray linen, drying on hedges, and stray
poultry, eh ? What hast got in that basket, lazy hound ? "

"Grip, Grip, Grip — Grip the clever. Grip the wicked, (xrip
the knowing — Grip, Grip, Grip," cried the raven, whom
Barnaby had shut up on the approach of this stern personage.
" I'm a devil I'm a devil I'm a devil. Never say die
Hurrah Bow wow wow, Polly i)ut the kettle on we'll all
have tea."

406 BAIiyABY liUUGE.

" Take the virmin out, scoundrel/' said the gentleman,
" and let me see him."

Barnaby, thus condescendingly addressed, produced his bird,
but not witliout much fear and trembling, and set him down
upon the ground; which he had no sooner done than Grip
drew fifty corks at least, and then began to dance ; at the
same time eying the gentleman with surprising insolence of
manner, and screwing his head so much on one side that he
appeared desirous of screwing it off upon the spot.

The cork-drawing seemed to make a greater impression on
the gentleman's mind, than the raven's power of speech, and
was indeed particularly adapted to his habits and capacity.
He desired to have that done again, but despite his being
very peremptory, and notwithstanding that Barnaby coaxed
to the utmost, Grip turned a deaf ear to the request, and pre-
served a dead silence.

'• Bring him along," said the gentleman, pointing to the
house. But Grip, who had watched the action, anticipated
his master, by hopping on before them ; — constantly flapping
his wings, and screaming " cook ! " meanwhile, as a hint per-
haps that there was company coming, and a small collation
would be acceptable.

Barnaby and his mother walked on, on either side of the
gentleman on horseback, who surveyed each of them from
time to time in a proud- and coarse manner, and occasionally
thundered out some question, the tone of which alarmed
Barnaby so much that he could find no answer, and, as a
matter of course, could make him no reply. On one of these
occasions, when the gentleman appeared disposed to exercise
liis horsewhip, the widow ventured to inform him in a low
voice and with tears in her eyes, that her son was of weak
mind.

" An idiot, eh ? " said the gentleman, looking at Barnaby
as he spoke. " And how long hast been an idiot ? "

" She knows," was Barnaby's timid answer, pointing to his
mother — "I — always, I believe."

" From his birth," said the widow.

"I don't believe it," cried the orentleman, "not a bit of it.
It's an excuse not to work. There's nothing like flogging

BAliNABY BUDGE. 407

to cure that disorder. I'd make a difference in him in ten
minutes, I'll be bound.''*

" Heaven has made none in more than twice ten years, sir,"
said the widow mildly.

" Then why don't you shut him up ? we pay enough for
county institutions, damn 'em, But thou'd rather drag him
about to excite charity — of course. Ay, I know thee."

Now this gentleman had various endearing appellations
among his intimate friends. By some he was called " a
country gentleman of the true school," by some '• a fine old
country gentleman," by some " a sporting gentleman," by
some " a thorough-bred Englishman," by some " a genuine
John Bull ; " but they all agreed in one respect, and that was,
that it was a pity there were not more like him, and that
because there were not, the country was going to rack and
ruin every day. He was in the commission of the peace, and
could write his name almost legibly ; but his greatest quali-
fications w^ere, that he was more severe with poachers, was a
b9tter shot, a harder rider, had better horses, kept better dogs,
could eat more solid food, drink more strong wine, go to bed
every night more drunk and get up every morning more
sober, than any man in the country. In knowledge of horse-
flesh he was almost equal to a farrier, in stable learning he
surpassed his own head groom, and in gluttony not a pig on
his estate was a match for him. He had no seat in Parliament
himself, but he was extremely patriotic, and usually drove his
voters up to the poll with his own hands. He was warmly
attached to church and state, and never appointed to the
living in his gift any but a three-bottle man and a first-rate
fox-hunter. He mistrusted the honesty of all poor people
who could read and write, and had a secret jealousy of his own
wife (a young lady whom he liad married for what his friends
called ^'the good old English reason," that her father's property
adjoined his own) for possessing those accomplishments in
a greater degree than himself. In short, Barnaby being an
idiot, and Grip a creature of mere brute instinct, it would be
very hard to say what this gentleman was.

He rode up to the door of a handsome house approached by
a great fliglit of steps, where a man was waiting to take his

408 BARXABY RUDGE.

horse, and led the way into a large hall, which, spacious as it
was, was tainted with the fumes of last night's stale debauch.
Great-coats, riding-whips, bridles, top-boots, spurs, and such
gear, were strewn about on all sides, and formed, with some
huge stags' antlers, and a few portraits of dogs and horses, its
principal embellishments.

Throwing himself into a great chair (in which, by-the-by,
he often snored away the night, v.'hen he had been, according
to his admirers, a finer country gentleman than usual) he
bade the man tell his mistress to come down : and presently
there appeared, a little flurried, as it seemed, by the unwonted
summons, a lady much younger than himself, who had the
appearance of being in delicate health, and not too happy.

'• Here ! Thou'st no delight in following the hounds as an
Englishwoman should have," said the gentleman. '• See to this
here. That'll please thee perhaps."

The lady smiled, sat down at a little distance from him,
and glanced at Barnaby with a look of pity.

'• He's an idiot, the woman says," observed the gentleman,
shaking his head ; " I don't believe it."

" Are you his mother ? " asked the lady.

She answered j^es.

"What's the use of asking her?^^ said the gentleman,
thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets. '• She'll tell
thee so, of course. Most likely he's hired, at so much a day.
There. Get on. Make him do something."

Grip having by this time recovered his ilrbanity, conde-
scended, at Barnaby's solicitation, to repeat his various
phrases of speech, and to go through the whole of his
performances with the utmost success. The corks, and the
never say die, afforded the gentleman so much delight that
he demanded the repetition of this part of the entertainment,
until Grip got into his basket, and positively refused to say
another word, good or bad. The lady too, was much amused
with him ; and -the closing point of his obstinacy so delighted
her husband that he burst into a roar of laughter, and
demanded his price.

Barnaby looked as though he didn't understand his
meaning. Probably he did not.

BARXABV nUDGE. 4011

''His price," said the geiitleiiiaii, rattling the money in his
pockets, '• what dost want for liini ? How much ? "

"He's not to be sokl," replied Barnaby, shutting up the
basket in a great hurry, and throwing tlie strap over his
shoulder. '• ^Mother, come away."

" Thou seest how much of an idiot he is, book-learner,"
said the gentleman, looking scornfully at his wife. " He can
make a bargain. What dost want for him, old woman ? "

" He is my son's constant companion," said the widow.
" He is not to be sold, sir, indeed."

"Not to be sold!" cried the gentleman, growing ten times
redder, hoarser, and louder than before. " Not to be sold! "

" Indeed, no," she answered. " We have never thought of
parting with him, sir, I do assure you."

He was evidently about to make a very passionate retort,
when a few murmured words from his wife happening to
catch his ear, he turned sharply round, and said, "Eh?
What ? "

"We can hardly expect them to sell the bird, against
their own desire," she faltered. " If they prefer to keep
him" —

"Prefer to keep him!" he echoed. "These people, who
go tram})ing about the country, a-pilfering and vagabondizing
on all hands, prefer to keep a bird, when a landed proprietor
and a justice asks his price 1 That old woman's been to
school. I know she has. Don't tell me no," lie roared to
the widow, " I say, yes."

Barnaby's mother pleaded guilty to the accusation, ami
hoped there was no harm in it.

" No harm ! " said the gentleman. " No. No harm.
No harm, ye old rebel, not a bit of harm. If my clerk was
here, I'd set ye in the stocks, I would, or lay ye in jail for
prowling up and down, on the lookout for petty larcenies, ye
limb of a gypsy. Plere, Simon, put these pilferers out, shove
'em into the road, out with 'em ! Ye don't want to sell the
bird, ye that come here to beg, don't ye? If they ain't out
in double-quick, set the dogs upon 'em ! ''

They waited for no further dismissal, but tied preci{)itately,
leaving the gentleman to storm away by himself (for the poor

410 BAliXABY liUDGK

lady had already retreated), and making a great many vain
attempts to silence Grip, who, excited by the noise, drew
corks enough for a city feast as they hurried down the
avenue, and appeared to congratulate himself beyond measure
on having been the cause of the disturbance. When they
had nearly reached the lodge, another servant, emerging from
the shrubbery, feigned to be very active in ordering them off,
but this man put a crown into the widow's hand, and
whispering that his lady se*it it, thrust them gently from the
gate.

This incident only suggested to the widow's mind, when
they halted at an alehouse some miles further on, and heard
the justice's character as given by his friends, that perhaps
something more than capacity of stomach and tastes for the
kennel and the stable, were required to form either a perfect
countr}^ gentleman, a thorough-bred Englishman, or a genuine
John Bull ; and that possibly the terms were sometimes
misappropriated, not to say disgraced. She little thought
then, that a circumstance so slight would ever influence their
future fortunes ; but time and experience enlightened her in
this respect.

" Mother," said Barnaby, as they were sitting next day in
a wagon which was to take them to within ten miles of the
capital, " we're going to London first, j^ou said. Shall we
see that blind man there ? "

She was about to answer " Heaven forbid ! " but checked
herself, and told him jS"o, she thought not ; wh}^ did he ask ?

" He's a wise man," said Barnaby, with a thoughtful coun-
tenance. "I wish that we may meet with him again. What
was it that he said of crowds ? That gold was to be found
where people crowded, and not among the trees and in such
quiet places ? He spoke as if he loved it ; London is a
crowded place ; I think we shall meet him there."

"But why do you desire to see him, love ? " she asked.

" Because," said Barnaby, looking wistfully at her, " he
talked to me about gold, which is a rare thing, and say what
you will, a thing you would like to have, I know. And
because he came and went away so strangely — just as wiiite-
headed old men come sometimes to my bed's foot in the night.

BAByABY BUDGE. 411

and say what I can't remember when the briglit day returns.
He told me he'd come back. I wonder why he broke his
word ! "

" But you never thought of being rich or gay, before, dear
Barnaby. You have always been contented."

He laughed and bade her say that again, then cried, " Ay,
ay — oh, yes," and laughed once more. Then something
passed that caught his fancy, and the topic wandered from
his mind, and was succeeded by another just as fleeting.

But it was plain from what he had said, and from his
returning to the point more than once that day, and on the
next that the blind man's visit, and indeed his words, had
taken strong possession of his mind. Whether the idea of
wealth had occurred to him for the first time on looking at
the golden clouds that evening — and images were often pre-
sented to his thoughts by outward objects quite as remote and
distant ; or whether their poor and humble way of life had
suggested it, by contrast, long ago ; or whether the accident
(as he would deem it) of the blind man's pursuing the current
of his. own remarks, had done so at the m.oment; or he had
been impressed by the mere circumstance of the man being
blind, and, therefore, unlike any one with whom he had
talked before ; it was impossible to tell. She tried every
means to discover, but in vain ; and the probability is that
Barnaby himself was equally in the dark.

It filled her with uneasiness to find him harping on this
string, but all that she could do, was to lead him quickly to
some other subject, and to dismiss it from his brain. To
caution him against their visitor, to show any fear or suspicion
in reference to him, would only be, she feared, to increase
that interest with which Barnaby regarded him, and to
strengthen his desire to meet him once again. She hoped,
by plunging into the crowd, to rid herself of her terrible
pursuer, and then, by journeying to a distance and observing
increased caution, if that were possible, to live again unknown,
in secrecy and peace.

They reached, in course of time, their halting-place within
ten miles of London, and lay there for the night, after bargain-
ing to be carried on for a trifle next day, in a light van whicli

412" BARNABY BULGE.

was returning empty, and was to start at five o'clock in the
morning. The driver was punctual, the road good — save for
the dust, the weather being very hot and dry — and at seven
in the forenoon of Friday the second of June, one thousand
seven hundred and eighty, they alighted at the foot of West-
minster Bridge, bade their conductor farewell, and stood
alone, together, on the scorching pavement. For the fresh-
ness which night sheds upon such busy thoroughfares had
already departed, and the sun was shining with uncommon
lustre.

BARNABY BUDGE. 413

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Uncertain where to go next, and bewildered by the crowd
of people who were already astir, they sat down in one of the
recesses on the bridge, to rest. They soon became aware that
the stream of life was all pouring one way, and that a vast
throng of persons were crossing tlie river from the Middlesex
to the Surrey shore, in unusual haste and evident excitement.
They were, for the most part, in knots of two or three, or
sometimes half a dozen ; they spoke little together — many of
them were quite silent ; and hurried on as if they had one
absorbing object in view, which was common to them all.

They were surprised to see that nearly every man in this
great concourse, wliich still came pouring past, without
slackening in the least, wore in his hat a blue cockade ; and
that the chance passengers who were not so decorated,
appeared timidly anxious to escape observation or attack, and
gave them the wall as if they would conciliate them. This,
however, was natural enough, considering their inferiority in
point of numbers ; for the proportion of those who wore blue
cockades, to those who were dressed as usual, was at least
forty or fifty to one. There was no quarrelling, however: the
blue cockades went swarming on, passing eacli other when
they could, and making all the speed that was possible in
such a multitude ; and exchanged nothing more than looks,
and very often not even those, with such of the passers-by as
were not of their number.

At first, the current of people had been confined to the two
pathways, and but a few more eager stragglers kei)t the road.
But after half an hour or so, the passage was completely
blocked up by the great press, wliich, being now closely
wedged together, and impeded by tlie carts and coaches it
encountered, moved but slowly, and was sometimes at a stand
for five or ten minutes together.

414 BARNABY BUDGE.

After the lapse of nearly two hours, the numbers began to
diminish visibly, and gradually dwindling away, by little and
little, left the bridge quite clear, save that, now and then,
some hot and dusty man with the cockade in his hat, and his
coat thrown over his shoulder, went panting by, fearful of
being too late, or stopped to ask which way his friends had
taken, and being directed, hastened on again like one re-
freshed. In this comparative solitude, which seemed quite
strange and novel after the late crowd, the widow had for the
first time an opportunity of inquiring of an old man who came
and sat beside them, what was the meaning of that great
assemblage.

"Why, where have jou. come from," he returned, "that
you haven't heard of Lord George Gordon's great association ?
This is the day that he presents the petition against the
Catholics, God bless him ! "

"' What have all these men to do with that ? " she asked.

" What have they to do with it ! " the old man replied.
" Why, how you talk ! Don't you know his lordship has
declared he won't present it to the house at all, unless it is
attended to the door by forty thousand good and true men at
least ? There's a crowd for you ! "

" A crowd indeed ! " said Barnaby. " Do you hear that,
mother ! "

"And they're mustering yonder, as I am told," resumed
the old man, " nigh upon a hundred thousand strong. Ah !
Let Lord George alone. He knows his power. There'll be
a good many faces inside them three windows over there,"
and he pointed to where the House of Commons overlooked
the river, " that'll turn pale when good Lord George gets up
this afternoon, and with reason too ! Ay, ay. Let his lord-
ship alone. Let him alone. Ife knows ! " And so, with
much mumbling and chuckling, and shaking of his forefinger,
he rose, with the assistance of his stick, and tottered off.

"Mother!" said Barnaby, "that's a brave crowd he talks
of. Come ! "

" Not to join it ! " cried his mother.

" Yes, yes," he answered, plucking at her sleeve. " Why
not ? Come ! "

BARNABY BUDGE. 415

"You don't know," she urged, "what mischief they may
do, where they may lead you, what their meaning is. Dear
Barnaby, for my sake " —

"For your sake ! " he cried, patting her hand. " Well ! It
is for your sake, mother. You remember what the blind man
said, about the gold. Here's a brave crowd ! Come ! Or
wait till I come back — yes, yes, wait here."

She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered, to
turn him from his purpose, but in vain. He was stooping
down to buckle on his shoe, when a hackney-coach passed
them rather quickly, and a voice inside called to the driver to
stop.

"Young man," said a voice within.

"Who's that ? " cried Barnaby, looking up.

" Do you wear this ornament ? " returned the stranger, hold-
ing out a blue cockade.

" In Heaven's name, no. Pray do not give it him ! " ex-
claimed the widow.

" Speak for yourself, woman," said the man within the
coach, coldly. " Leave the young man to his choice ; he's
old enough to make it, and to snap your apron-strings. He
knows, without your telling, whether he wears the sign of a
loyal Englishman or not."

Barnaby, trembling with impatience, cried " Yes ! yes, yes,
I do," as he had cried a dozen times already. The man
threw him a cockade, and crying "Make haste to Saint
George's Field's," ordered the coachman to drive on fast ; and
left them.

With hands that trembled with his eagerness to fix the
bauble in his hat, Barnaby was adjusting it as he best could,
and hurriedly replying to the tears and entreaties of his
mother, when two gentlemen passed on the opposite side of
the way. Observing them, and seeing how Barnaby was
occupied, they stopped, whispered together for an instant,
turned back, and came over to them.

" Why are you sitting here ? '' said one of them, who was
dressed in a plain suit of black, wore long lank hair, and
carried a great cane. " Why have you not gone with the
rest ? "

416 BABNABY BUDGE.

"I am going, sir," replied Barnaby, finishing his task, and
putting his hat on with an air of pride. " I shall be there
directly."

" Say ' my lord,' young man, when his lordship does you
the honor of speaking to you," said the second gentleman
mildly. '^ If you don't know Lord George Gordon when you
see him, it's high time yow should."

" Nay, Gashford," said Lord George, as Barnaby pulled off
his hat again and made him a low bow, ^4t's no great
matter on a day like this, which every Englishman will
remember with delight and pride. Put on your hat, friend,
and follow us, for you lag behind and are late. It's past ten
now. Didn't you know that the hour of assembling was ten
o'clock ? "

Barnaby shook his head and looked vacantly from one to
the other.

" You might have known it, friend," said Gashford, " it was
perfectly understood. How came you to be so ill informed ? "

*^ He cannot tell you, sir," the widow interposed. " It's of
no use to ask him. We are but this morning come from a
long distance in the country, and know nothing of these
matters."

"The cause has taken a deep root, and has spread its
branches far and wide," said Lord George to his secretary.
" This is a pleasant hearing I thank Heaven for it."

" Amen ! " cried Gashford with a solemn face.

"You do not understand me, my lord," said the widow.
"Pardon me, but you cruelly mistake my meaning. We
know nothing of these matters. We have no desire or right
to join in what you are about to do. This is my son, my
poor afflicted son, d^rer to me than my own life. In mercy's
name, my lord, go your way alone, and do not tempt him into
danger ! "

" My good woman," said Gashford, " how can you ! — Dear
me ! — What do you mean by tempting, and by danger ? Do
you think his lordship is a roaring lion, going about and seek-
ing whom he may devour ? God bless me ! "

" No, no, my lord, forgive me," implored the widow, laying
both her hands upon his breast, and scarcely knowing what

I ■
I ■

.-tU

BAIiNABT BUDGE. 417

she did, or said, in the earnestness of her supplication, " but
there are reasons why you should hear my earnest, mother's
prayer, and leave my son with me. Oh do. He is not in his
right senses, he is not, indeed ! "

"It is a bad sign of the wickedness of these times," said
Lord George, evading her touch, and coloring deeply, "that
those who cling to the truth and support the right cause, are
set down as mad. Have you the heart to say this of your
own son, unnatural mother ! "

" I am astonished at you ! " said Gashf ord with a kind
of meek severity. " This is a very sad picture of female
depravity."

" He has surely no appearance," said Lord George, glancing
at Barnaby, and whispering in his secretary's ear, "of being
deranged ? And even if he had, we must not construe any
trifling peculiarity into madness. Which of us " — and here
he turned red again — " would be safe, if that were made the
law!"

"' Xot one," replied the secretary ; " in that case, the
greater the zeal, the truth, and talent ; the more direct the call
from above ; the clearer would be the madness. With re-
gard to this young man, my lord," he added, with a lip that
slightly curled as he looked at Barnaby, who stood twirling
his hat, and stealthily beckoning them to come away, "he is
as sensible and self-possessed as any one I ever saw."

" And you desire to make one of this great body ? " said
Lord George, addressing him ; " and intended to make one,
did you ? "

" Yes — yes," said Barnaby, with sparkling eyes. " To be
sure I did ! I told her so myself."

" I see," replied Lord George, with a reproachful glance at
the unhappy mother. " I thought so. Follow me and this
gentleman, and you shall have your wish."

Barnaby kissed his mother tenderly on the cheek, and
bidding her be of good cheer, for their fortunes were both
made now, did as he was desired. She, poor woman,
followed too — with how much fear and grief it would be hard
to tell.

They passed quickly througli the Bridge-road, where the
voi>. I,

418 BARNABT BUDGE.

shops were all shut up (for the passage of the great crowd
and the expectation of their return had alarmed the tradesmen
for their goods and windows), and where, in the upper
stories, all the inhabitants were congregated, looking down
into the street below, with faces variously expressive of alarm,
of interest, expectancy, and indignation. Some of these
applauded, and some hissed; but regardless of these inter-
ruptions — for the noise of a vast congregation of people at a
little distance, sounded in his ears like the roaring of a sea —
Lord George Gordon quickened his pace, and presently arrived
before Saint George's Fields.

They were really fields at that time, and of considerable
extent. Here an immense multitude was collected, bearing
flags of various kinds and sizes, but all of the same color —
blue, like the cockades — some sections marching to and fro in
military array, and others drawn up in circles, squares, and
lines. A large portion, both of the bodies which paraded the
ground, and of those which remained stationary, were occupied
in singing hymns or psalms. With whomsoever this origi-
nated, it was well done ; for the sound of so many thousand
voices in the air must have stirred the heart of any man
within him, and could not fail to have a wonderful effect upon
enthusiasts, however mistaken.

Scouts had been posted in advance of the great body, to give
notice of their leader's coming. These falling back, the word
was quickly passed through the whole host, and for a short
interval there ensued a profound and death-like silence, during
which the mass was so still and quiet, that the fluttering of a
banner caught the eye, and became a circumstance of note.
Then they burst into a tremendous shout, into another, and
another ; and the air seemed rent and shaken, as if by the
discharge of cannon."

" Gashford ! " cried Lord George, pressing his secretary's
arm tight within his own, and speaking with as much emotion
in his voice as in his altered face, "I am called indeed, now.
T feel and know it. I am the leader of a host. If they sum-
moned me at this moment with one voice to lead them on to
death, I'd do it — Yes, and fall first myself."

" It is a proud sight," said the secretary. *' It is a noble

BARNABY BULGE. 419

day for England, and for the great cause throughout the
workl. Such homage^ my lord, as I, an humble but devoted
man, can render " —

" What are you doing ! " cried his master, catching him by
both hands ; for he had made a show of kneeling at his feet ;
" Do not unfit me, dear Gashford, for the solemn duty of this
glorious day" — the tears stood in the eyes of the poor gen-
tleman as he said the words. — " Let us go among them ; we
have to find a place in some division for this new recruit —
give me your hand."

Gashford slid his cold insidious palm into his master's
grasp, and so, hand in hand, and followed still by Barnaby
and by his mother too, they mingled with the concourse.

They had by this time taken to their singing again, and as
their leader passed between their ranks, they raised their
voices to their utmost. Many of those who were banded
together to support the religion of their country, even unto
death, had never heard a hymn or psalm in all their lives. But
these fellows having for the most part strong lungs, and being
naturally fond of singing, chanted any ribaldry or nonsense
that occurred to them, feeling pretty certain that it would not
be detected in the general chorus, and not caring very much
if it were. Many of these voluntaries were sung under the
very nose of Lord George Gordon, who, quite unconscious of
their burden, passed on with his usual stiff and solemn deport-
ment, very much edified and delighted by the pious conduct of
his followers.

So they went on and on, up this line, down that, round the
exterior of this circle, and on every side of that hollow square ;
and still there were lines, and squares, and circles out of number
to review. The day being now intensely hot, and the sun
striking down his fiercest rays upon the field, those who
carried heavy banners began to groAv faint and weary ; most
of the number assembled were fain to pull off their neckcloths,
and throw their coats and waistcoats open ; and some, towards
the centre, quite overpowered by the excessive heat, which
was of course rendered more unendurable by the multitude
around them, lay down upon the grass, and offered all tliey
had about them for a drink of water. Still, no man left the

420 BAENABY BUDGE.

ground, not even of those who were so distressed ; still, Lord
George, streaming from every pore, went on with Gashford ;
and still Barnaby and his mother followed close behind them.

They had arrived at the top of a long line of some eight
hundred men in single file, and Lord George had turned his
head to look back, when a loud cry of recognition — in that
peculiar and half-stifled tone which a 'voice has, when it is
raised in the open air and in the midst of a great concourse of
persons — was heard, and a man stepped with a shout of
laughter from the rank, and smote Barnaby on the shoulders
with his heavy hand.

" How now ! " he cried. '' Barnaby Rudge ! Why, where
have you been hiding for these hundred years ! "

Barnaby had been thinking within himself that the smell
of the trodden grass brought back his old days at cricket,
when he was a young boy and played on Chigwell Green.
Confused by this sudden and boisterous address, he stared in
a bewildered manner at the man, and could scarcely say
" What ! Hugh ! "

" Hugh ! " echoed the other ; " ay, Hugh — Maypole Hugh !
You remember my dog ? He's alive now, and will know you,
I warrant. What, you wear the color, do j'ou ? Well done !
Ha, ha, ha ! "

" You know this young man, I see," said Lord George.

" Know him, my lord ! as well as I know my own right
hand. My captain knows him. We all know him."

"Will you take him into your division ? "

" It hasn't in it a better, nor a nimbler, nor a more active
man than Barnaby Rudge," said Hugh. '^Show me the
man who says it has ! Fall in, Barnaby. He shall march,
my lord, between me and Dennis ; and he shall carry," he
added, taking a flag from the hand of a tired man who
tendered it, " the gayest silken streamer in this valiant
army."

" In the name of God, no I " shrieked the widow, darting
forward. "Barnaby — my lord — see — he'll come back —
Barnaby — Barnaby ! "

" Women in the field ! " cried Hugh, stepping between
them, and holding her off. " Holloa ! My captain there ! "

BABNABY BUDGE. 421

"What's the matter here ? " cried Simon Tappertit, bustling
up in a great heat. " Do you call this order ? "

"Nothing like it, captain," answered Hugh, still holding
her back with his outstretched hand. " It's against all
orders. Ladies are carrying off our gallant soldiers from
their duty. The word of command, captain I They're filing
off the ground. Quick ! "

"' Close ! *' cried Simon, with the whole power of his lungs.
" Form ! IMarch ! "

She was thrown to the ground ; the whole field was in
motion ; Barnaby was whirled away into the heart of a dense
mass of men, and she saw him no more.

422 BAEyABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER XLIX.

The mob had been divided from its first assemblage into
four divisions ; the London, the Westminster, the Southwark,
and the Scotch. Each of these divisions being subdivided
into various bodies, and these bodies being drawn up in
various forms and figures, the general arrangement was,
except to the few chiefs and leaders, as unintelligible as the
plan of a great battle to the meanest soldier in the field. It
was not without its method, however ; for, in a very short
space of time after being put in motion, the crowd had
resolved itself into three great parties, and were prepared, as
had been arranged, to cross the river by different bridges, and
make for the House of Commons in separate detachments.

At the head of that division which had Westminster Bridge
for its approach to the scene of action. Lord George Gordon
took his post ; with Gashford at his right hand, and sundry
ruffians of most unpromising appearance, forming a kind of
staff about him. The conduct of a second party whose route
lay by Blackfriars, was intrusted to a committee of manage-
ment, including perhaps a dozen men : while the third, which
was to go by London Bridge, and through the main streets,
in order that their numbers and their serious intentions might
be the better known and appreciated by the citizens, were led
by Simon Tappertii? (assisted by a few subalterns, selected
from the Brotherhood of United Bulldogs), Dennis the hang-
man, Hugh, and some others.

The word of command being given, each of these great
bodies took the road assigned to it, and departed on its way,
in perfect order and profound silence. That which went
through the City greatly exceeded the others in number, and
was of such prodigious extent that when the rear began to
move, the front was nearly four miles in advance, notwith-

BARNABY BUDGE. 423

standing that the men marched three abreast and followed
very close upon each other.

At the head of this party, in the place where Hugh, in the
madness of his humor, had stationed him, and walking
between that dangerous companion and the hangman, went
Barnaby ; as many a man among the thousands who looked
on that day afterwards remembered well. Forgetful of all
other things in the ecstasy of the moment, his face flushed
and his eyes sparkling with delight, heedless of the weight of
the great banner he carried, and mindful only of its flashing
in the sun and rustling in the summer breeze, on he went,
proud, happy, elated past all telling : — the only light-hearted,
undesigning creature, in the whole assembly.

" What do 3'ou think of this ? " asked Hugh, as they passed
through the crowded streets, and looked up at the windows
which were thronged with spectators. "They have all turned
out to see our flags and streamers ? Eh, Barnaby ? Why,
Barnaby's the greatest man of all the pack ! His flag's the
largest of the lot, the brightest too. There's nothing in the
show like Barnaby. All eyes are turned on him. Pla, ha,
ha!"

"Don't make that din, brother," growled the hangman,
glancing with no very approving eyes at Barnaby as he spoke :
"I hope he don't tliink there's nothing to be done, but
carrying that there piece of blue rag, like a boy at a breaking-
up. You're ready for action, I hope, eh ? You, I mean," he
added, nudging Barnaby roughly with his elbow. " What are
you staring at ? Why don't you speak ? "

Barnaby had been gazing at his flag, and looked vacantly
from his questioner to Hugh.

" He don't understand your way," said the latter. '• Here,
I'll explain it to him. Barnaby, old boy, attend to me."

" I'll attend," said Barnaby, looking anxiously round :
'' but I wish I could see her somewhere."

"See wlio ? " demanded Dennis in a gruff tone. "You
ain't in love, I hope, brother ? That ain't tlie sort of tiling
for us, you know. AVe mustn't have no love here."

" She would be ])roud indeed to see me now, eh, Hugh ? "
said Barnaby. "AN'ouldn't it make her glad to see me at the

424 BARNABY BUDGE.

head of this large show ? She'd cry with joy, I know she
would. Where can she be. She never sees me at my best,
and what do I care to be gay and fine if she^s not by ? "

" Why, what palaver's this ? " asked ]Mr. Dennis with
supreme disdain. "We ain't got no sentimental members
among us, I hope."

" Don't be uneasy, brother," cried Hugh, " he's only talk-
ing of his mother."

"Of his what ?" said jNIr. Dennis with a strong oath.

"His mother."

" And have I combined myself with this here section, and
turned out on this here memorable da}^, to hear men talk
about their mothers ! " growled Mr. Dennis with extreme
disgust. " The notion of a man's sweetheart's bad enough,
but a man's mother !" — and here his disgust was so extreme
that he spat upon the ground, and could say no more.

"Barnaby's right," cried Hugh with a grin, "and I say
it. Lookee, bold lad. If she's not here to see, it's because
I've provided for her, and sent half a dozen gentlemen, every
one of 'em with a blue flag (but not half as line as yours), to
take her, in state, to a grand house all hung round with gold
and silver banners, and everything else you please, where
she'll wait till you come, and want for nothing."

" Ay ! " said Barnaby, his face beaming with delight :
" have you indeed ? That's a good hearing. That's fine !
Kind Hugh ! "

"But nothing to what will come, bless you," retorted
Hugh, with a wink at Dennis, who regarded his new com-
panion in arms with great astonishment.

"' Xo, indeed ? " cried Barnaby.

" ISTothing at all," said Hugh. " Money, cocked hats and
feathers, red coats and gold lace ; all the fine things there are,
ever w^ere, or will be ; will belong to us if we are true to that
noble gentleman — the best man in the world — carry our flags
for a few daj'S, and keep 'em safe. That's all we've got to do."

" Is that all ? " cried Barnaby with glistening e3^es, as he
clutched his pole the tighter ; " I warrant you I keep this one
safe, then. You have put it in good hands. You know me,
Hugh. Nobody shall w^rest this flag away."

BARNABY BUDGE. 425

"Well said!" cried Hugh. ^^Ha, ha! Nobly said!
That's the old stout Barnaby, that I have climbed and leaj^ed
with, many and many a day — I knew I was not mistaken in
Barnaby. — Don't you see man," he added in a whisper, as he
slipped to the other side of Dennis, " that the lad's a natural,
and can be got to do anything, if you take him the right
way. Letting alone the fun he is, he's worth a dozen men,
in earnest, as you'd find if you tried a fall with him. Leave
him to me. You shall soon see whether he's of use or not."

Mr. Dennis received these explanatory remarks with many
nods and winks, and softened his behavior towards Barnaby
from that moment. Hugh, laying his finger on his nose,
stepped back into his former place, and they proceeded in
silence.

It was between two and three o'clock in the afternoon when
the three great parties met at Westminster, and, uniting into
one huge mass, raised a tremendous shout. This was not only
doiie in token of their presence, but as a signal to those on
whom the task devolved, that it was time to take possession
of the lobbies of both Houses, and of the various avenues of
approach, and of the gallery stairs. To the last-named place,
Hugh and Dennis, still with their pupil between them, rushed
straightway ; Barnaby having given his flag into the hands
of one of their own party, who kept them at the outer door.
Their followers pressing on behind, they were borne as on a
great wave to the very doors of the gallery, whence it was
impossible to retreat, even if they had been so inclined, by
reason of the throng which choked up the passages. It is a
familiar expression in describing a great crowd, that a person
might have walked upon the people's heads. In this case it
was actually done; for a boy who had by some means got
among the concourse, and was in imminent danger of suffoca-
tion, climbed to the shoulders of a man beside him and
walked upon the people's hats and heads into the open street ;
traversing in his passage the whole length of two staircases
and a long gallery. Nor was the swarm without less dense ;
for a basket wliich had been tossed into the crowd, was jerked
from head to head, and shoulder to slioulder, and went spin-
ning and whirling on above them, until it was lost to view,

426 BARNABT RUDGE.

without ever once falling in among tliem or coming near the
ground.

Through this vast throng, sprinkled doubtless here and
there with honest zealots, but composed for the most part
of the very scum and refuse of London, whose growth was
fostered by bad criminal laws, bad prison regulations, and the
worst conceivable police, such of the members of both Houses
of Parliament as had not taken the precaution to be already
at their posts, were compelled to fight and force their way.
Their carriages were stopped and broken ; the wheels
wrenched off ; the glasses shivered to atoms ; the panels
beaten in ; drivers, footmen, and masters, pulled from their
seats and rolled in the mud. Lords, commoners, and reverend
bishops, with little distinction of person or party, were
kicked and pinched and hustled ; passed from hand to hand
through various stages of ill-usage ; and sent to their fellow-
senators at last with their clothes hanging in ribbons about
them, their bagwigs torn off, themselves speechless and
breathless, and their persons covered with the powder which
had been cuffed and beaten out of their hair. One lord w^as
so long in the hands of the populace, that the Peers as a
body resolved to sally forth and rescue him, and were in the
act of doing so, when he hapjiily api;)eared among them cov-
ered with dirt and bruises, and hardly to be recognized by
those who knew him best. The noise and uproar were on
the increase every moment. The air was filled with execrations,
hoots, and bowlings. The mob raged and roared like a mad
monster as it was, unceasingly, and each new outrage served
to swell its fury.

Within doors, matters were even yet more threatening.
Lord George — preceded by a man who carried the immense
petition on a porter's knot through the lobby to the door of
the House of Commons, where it was received by two officers
of the house who rolled it up to the table ready for presenta-
tion— had taken his seat at an early hour, before the Speaker
went to prayers. His followers pouring in at the same time,
the lobby and all the avenues were immediately filled, as we
have seen. Thus the members were not only attacked in
their passage through the streets, but were set upon within

OUTSIDE THE GALLERY.

BARNABY RUDGE. 427

the very walls of Parliament ; while the tumult, both within
and without, was so great, that those who attempted to speak
could scarcely hear their own voices : far less consult upon
the course it would be wise to take in such extremity, or
animate each other to dignified and firm resistance. So sure
as any member, just arrived, with dress disordered and
dishevelled hair, came struggling through the crowd in the
lobby, it yelled and screamed in triumph ; and when the door
of the House partially and cautiously opened by those within
for his admission, gave them a momentary glimpse of the
interior, they grew more wild and savage, like beasts at the
sight of prey, and made a rush against the portal, which
strained its locks and bolts in their staples, and shook the
very beams.

The strangers' gallery, which was immediately above the
door of the House, had been ordered to be closed on the first
rumor of disturbance, and was empty ; save that now and
then Lord George took his seat there, for the convenience of
coming to the head of the stairs which led to it, and repeating
to the people what had passed within. It was on these stairs
that Barnaby, Hugh, and Dennis were posted. There were
two flights, short, steep, and narrow, running parallel to each
other, and leading to two little doors communicating with a
low passage which opened on the gallery. Between them
was a kind of well, or unglazed skylight, for the admission of
light and air into the lobby, which might be some eighteen or
twenty feet below.

Upon one of these little staircases — not that at the head
of which Lord George appeared from time to time, but the
other — Gashford stood with his elbow on the banister, and
his cheek resting on his hand, with his usual crafty aspect.
Whenever he varied this attitude in the slightest degree —
so much as by the gentlest motion of his arm — the uproar was
certain to increase, not merely there, but in the lobby below ;
from which place, no doubt, some man who acted as fugleman
to the rest, was constantly looking up and watching him.

"Order!'' cried Hugh, in a voice whicli made itself heard
even above the roar and tumult, as Lord George appeared at
the top of the staircase. '' News ! News from my lord ! ''

428 BARNABY BUDGE.

The noise continued, notwithstanding his appearance, until
Gashford looked round. There was silence immediately —
even among the people in the passages without, and on the
other staircases, who could neither see nor hear, but to whom,
notwithstanding, the signal was conveyed with marvellous
rapidity.

" Gentlemen," said Lord George, who was very pale and
agitated, '•' We must be firm. They talk of delays, but we
must have no delays. They talk of taking your petition into
consideration next Tuesday, but we must have it considered
now. Present appearances look bad for our success, but we
must succeed and will ! "

" We must succeed and will ! " echoed the crowd. And so
among their shouts and cheers and other cries, he bowed to
them and retired, and presently came back again. There was
another gesture from Gashford, and a dead silence directly.

"I am afraid," he said, this time, "that we have little
reason, gentlemen, to hope for any redress from the proceed-
ings of Parliament. But we must redress our own grievances,
we must meet again, we must put our trust in Providence,
and it will bless our endeavors."

This speech being a little more temperate than the last,
was not so favorably received. When the noise and exaspera-
tion were at their height, he came back once more, and told
them that the alarm had gone forth for man}- miles round ;
that when the King heard of their assembling together in
that great body, he had no doubt His Majesty would send
down private orders to have their wishes complied with ; and
— with the manner of his speech as childish, irresolute, and
uncertain as his matter — was proceeding in this strain, when
two gentlemen suddenly appeared at the door where he stood,
and pressing past him and coming a step or two lower down
upon the stairs, confronted the people.

The boldness of this action quite took them by surprise.
They were not the less disconcerted, when one of the gentle-
men, turning to Lord George, spoke thus — in a loud voice
that they might hear him well, but quite coolly and collectedly.

" You may tell these people, if you please, my lord, that I
am General Conway of whom they have heard; and that I

BARNABY BUDGE. 429

oppose this petition, and all their proceedings, and 3'ours.
I am a soldier, 3*011 may tell them, and I will protect the
freedom of this place with m^^ sword. You see, my lord, that
the members of this House are all in arms to-day ; you know
that the entrance to it is a narrow one : you cannot be igno-
rant that there are men within these walls who are deter-
mined to defend that pass to the last, and before whom many
lives must fall if your adherents persevere. Have a care
what you do."

"And my Lord George," said the other gentleman, address-
ing him in like manner, '• I desire them to hear this, from me
— Colonel Gordon — your near relation. If a man among
this crowd, whose uproar strikes us deaf, crosses the threshold
of the House of Commons, I swear to run my sword that
moment — not into his, but into your bod}^ ! "
4 With that they stepped back again, keeping their faces
towards the crowd ; took each an arm of the misguided noble-
man ; drew him into the passage, and shut the door ; which
they directly locked and fastened on the inside.

This was so quickly done, and the demeanor of both gentle-
men — who were not young men either — was so gallant and
resolute, that the crowd faltered and stared at each other with
irresolute and timid looks. INIany tried to turn towards the
door ; some of the faintest-hearted cried that the}- had best go
back, and called to those behind to give way ; and the panic
and confusion were increasing rapidly;, when Gashford whis-
pered Hugh.

'• What now ! " Hugh roared aloud, turning towards them.
" Why go back ? Where can you do better than here, boys !
One good rush against these doors and one below at the same
time, will do the business. Eush on, then ! As to the door
below, let those stand back who are afraid. Let those who
are not afraid, try who shall be the first to pass it. Here
goes. Look out down there ! "

Without the delay of an instant, he threw himself lu-adlong
over the banisters into the lobV)y below. He liad hardly
touched the ground when Larnaljy was at his side. The
chaplain's assistant, and some members who were imploring
the people to retire, immediately withdrew; and then, with a

430 BAEXABY BUDGE.

great shout, both crowds threw themselves against the doors
pell-mell, and besieged the House in earnest.

At that moment, when a second onset must have brought
them into collision with those who stood on the defensive
within, in which case great loss of life and bloodshed would
inevitably have ensued, — the hindmost portion of the crowd
gave way, and the rumor spread from mouth to mouth that a
messenger had been despatched by water for the military,
who were forming in the street. Fearful of ^sustaining a
charge in the narrow passages in which they were so closely
wedged together, the throng poured out as impetuously as
they had flocked in. As the whole stream turned at once,
Barnaby and Hugh went with it ; and so, fighting and
struggling and trampling on fallen men and being trampled
on in turn themselves, they and the whole mass floated by
degrees into the open street, where a large detachment of tlije
Guards, both horse and foot, came hurrying up ; clearing the
ground before them so rapidly that the people seemed to melt
away as they advanced.

The word of command to halt being given, the soldiers
formed across the street ; the rioters, breathless and exhausted
with their late exertions, formed likewise, though in a very
irregular and disorderly manner. The commanding officer
rode hastily into the open space between the two bodies
accompanied by a magistrate and an officer of the House of
Commons, for whose accommodation a couple of troopers had
hastily dismounted. The Kiot Act was read, but not a man
stirred.

In the first rank of the insurgents, Barnaby and Hugh
stood side by side. Somebody had thrust into Barnaby's
hands when he came out into the street, his precious flag ;
which, being now rolled up and tied round the pole, looked
like a giant quarter-staff as he grasped it firmly and stood
upon his guard. If ever man believed with his whole heart
and soul that he was engaged in a just cause, and that he was
bound to stand by his leader to the last, poor Barnaby believed
it of himself and Lord George Gordon.

After an ineffectual attempt to make himself heard, the
magistrate crave the word and the Horse Guards came riding

BAENABY BUDGE. 431

in among the crowd. But, even then, he galloped here and
there, exhorting the people to disperse ; and although heav}-
stones were thrown at the men, and some were desperately
cut and bruised, they had no orders but to make prisoners of
such of the rioters as were the most active, and to drive the
people back with the flat of their sabres. As the horses came .
in among them, the throng gave way at many points, and the
Guards, following up their advantage, were rapidly clearing
the ground, when two or three of the foremost, who were in
a manner cut off from the rest by the people closing round
them, made straight towards Barnaby and Hugh, who had no
doubt been pointed out as the two men who dropped into the
lobby : laying about them now with some effect, and inflicting
on the more turbulent of their opponents, a few slight flesh
wounds, under the influence of which a man dropped, here
and there, into the arms of his fellows, amid much groaning
and confusion.

At the sight of gashed and bloody faces, seen for a moment
in the crowd, then hidden by the press around them, Barnaby
turned pale and sick. But he stood his ground, and grasping
his pole more firmly yet, kept his eye fixed upon the nearest
soldier — nodding his head meanwhile, as Hugh, with a
scowling visage, whispered in his ear.

The soldier came spurring on, making his horse rear as the
people pressed about him, cutting at the hands of those who
would have grasped his rein and forced his charger back, and
waving to his comrades to follow — and still Barnaby, without
retreating an inch, waited for his coming. Some called to
him to fly, and some were in the very act of closing round
him, to prevent his being taken, when the pole swept the air
above the people's heads, and the man's saddle was empty in
an instant.

Then, he and Hugh turned and fled ; tlie crowd opening to
let tliem pass, and closing up again so quickly that there was
no clew to the course they had taken. Panting for breath,
hot, dusty, and exhausted witli fatigue, they reached the river-
side in safety, and getting into a boat with all despatch were
soon out of any immediate danger.

As tliey glided down tlic river, thry ])l;iinly licanl llu'

432 BARXABT RVDGE.

people cheering ; and supposing they might have forced the
sohliers to retreat, lay upon their oars for a few minutes,
uncertain whether to return or not. But the crowd passing
along Westminster Bridge, soon assured them that the popu-
lace were dispersing ; and Hugh rightly guessed from this,
that they had cheered the magistrate for offering to dismiss
the military on condition of their immediate departure to their
several homes, and that he and Barnaby were better where
they were. He advised, therefore, that they should proceed
to Blackfriars, and, going ashore at the bridge, make the best
of their way to The Boot ; where there was not only good
entertainment and safe lodging, but where they would cer-
tainly be joined by many of their late companions. Barnaby
assenting, they decided on this course of action, and pulled
for Blackfriars accordingly.

They landed at a critical time,, and fortunately for them-
selves at the right moment. For, coming into Fleet Street,
they found it in an unusual stir ; and inquiring the cause,
were told that a body of Horse Guards had just galloped past,
and that they were escorting some rioters whom they had
made prisoners, to Xewgate for safety. Xot at all ill-pleased
to have so narrowly escaped the cavalcade, they lost no more
time in asking questions, but hurried to The Boot with as
much speed as Hugh considered it prudent to make, without
appearing singular or attracting an inconvenient share of
public notice.

BAliyABV Rl'DGE. Ao[

CHAPTER L.

They were among the first to reach the tavern, but they
had not been there many minutes, when several groups of
men who had formed part of the crowd, came straggling in.
Among them were Simon Tappertit and Mr. Dennis ; both of
whom, but especially the latter, greeted Barnaby with the
utmost warmth, and paid him many compliments on the
prowess he had shown.

"Which," said Dennis, with an oath, as he rested his
bludgeon in a corner with his hat upon it, and took his seat
at the same table with them, '-it does me good to think of.
There was a opportunity ! But it led to nothing. For my
part, I don't know what would. There's no spirit among the
people in these here times. Bring something to eat and drink
here. I'm disgusted with humanity."

" On what account ? " asked ^Ir. Tappertit, who had been
quenching his fiery face in a half-gallon can. ''Don't you
consider this a good beginning, mister ? "

" Give me security that it ain't a ending," rejoined the
hangman. " When that soldier went down, we might have
made London ours ; but no ; — we stand, and gape, and look
on — the justice (I wish he had had a bullet in each eye, as he
would have had, if we'd gone to work my way) says, ' My
lads, if you'll give me your word to disperse, I'll order off
the military,' — our people sets up a hurrah, throws up tlie
game with the winning cards in their hands, and skulks away
like a pack of tame curs as they are. Ah," said the hang-
man, in a tone of deep disgust, " it makes me blush for my
feller-creeturs. I wish I had been born a ox, I do ! "

" You'd have been quite as agreeable a cliaracter if you liad
been, I think," returned Simon Tappertit, going out in a lofty
manner.

VOL. I.

434 BARNABY BUDGE.

*' Don't be too sure of that," rejoined the hangman, calling
after him ; " if I was a horned animal at the present moment,
with the smallest grain of sense, " I'd toss every man in this
compain^, excepting them two," meaning Hugh and Barnaby,
" for his manner of conducting himself this day."

With which mournful review of their proceedings, Mr.
Dennis sought consolation in cold boiled beef and beer; but
without at all relaxing the grim and dissatisfied expression of
his face, the gloom of which was rather deepened than dissi-
pated by their grateful influence.

The company who were thus libelled might have retaliated
by strong words, if not by blows, but they were dispirited and
worn out. The greater part of them had fasted since ]norn-
ing ; all had suffered extremely from the excessive heat ; and
between the day's shouting, exertion, and excitement, many
had quite lost their voices, and so much of their strength that
they could hardly stand. Then they were uncertain what to
do next, fearful of the consequences of what they had done
already, and sensible that after all they had carried no point,
but had indeed left matters worse than they had found them.
Of those who had come to The Boot, many dropped off within
an hour; such of them as were really honest and sincere,
never, after the morning's experience, to return, or to hold
any communication with their late companions. Otliers
remained but to refresh themselves, and then went home de-
sponding; others who had theretofore been regular in their
attendance, avoided the place altogether. The half-dozen
prisoners whom the Guards had taken, were magnified by
report into half a hundred at least ; and their friends, being
faint and sober, so slackened in their energy, and so drooped
beneath these dispiriting influences, that by eight o'clock in
the evening, Dennis, Hugh, and Barnaby, were left alone.
Even they were fast asleep upon the benches, when Gashford's
entrance roused them.

'•Oh! You are here then?" said the secretary. "Dear
me ! "

"Why, where should we be. Muster Gashford!" Dennis
rejoined as he rose into a sitting posture.

" Oh, nowhere, nowhere," he returned with excessive mild-

BAR NAB Y BUDGE. 435

ness. "The streets are filled with blue cockades. I rather
thought you might have been among them. I am glad you
are not."

" You have orders for us, master, then ? " said Hugh.

"Oh, dear, no. Not I. No orders, my good fellow.
What orders should I have ? You are not in my service."

" Muster Gashford ! " remonstrated Dennis, " we belong to
the cause, don't we ? "

" The cause ! " repeated the secretary, looking at him in a
sort of abstraction. " There is no cause. The cause is lost."

" Lost ! "

" Oh, yes. You have heard, I suppose ? The petition is
rejected by a hundred and ninety-two, to six. It's quite final.
\Ve might have spared ourselves some trouble. That, and
my lord's vexation, are the only circumstances I regret. I
am quite satisfied in all other respects."

As he said this, he took a penknife from his pocket, and
putting his hat upon his knee, began to busy himself in ripping
off the blue cockade which he had worn all day ; at the same
time humming a psalm tune which had been very popular in
the morning, and dwelling on it with a gentle regret.

His two adherents looked at each other, and at him, as if
they were at a loss how to pursue the subject. At length
Hugh, after some elbowing and winking between himself and
Mr. Dennis, ventured to stay his hand, and to ask him why
he meddled with that ribbon in his hat.

"Because," said the secretary, looking up with something
between a snarl and a smile, " because to sit still and wear it,
or fall asleep and wear it, or run away and wear it, is a
mockery. That's all, friend."

" What would you have us do, master ! " cried Hugh.

"Nothing," returned Gashford, shrugging his shoulders;
" nothing. When my lord was reproached and threatened for
standing by you, I, as a prudent man, would liave had you
do notliing. When the soldiers were trampling you under
their horses' feet, I would have had you do notliing. When
one of them was struck down by a daring hand, and I saw
confusion and dismay in all their faces, I would liave had you
do nothing — just what you did, in short. This is the young

436 BABNABY BUDGE.

man who had so little prudence and so much boldness. Ah !
I am sorry for him."

"'' Sorry, master ! '' cried Hugh.

" Sorry, Muster Gashford ! " echoed Dennis.

'•'In case there should be a proclamation out to-morrow,
offering five hundred pounds, or some such trifle, for his
apprehension ; and in case it should include another man who
dropped into the lobby from the stairs above," said Gashford,
coldly ; '•' still, do nothing."

'^ Fire and fury, master ! " cried Hugh, starting up.
"What have we done that you should talk to us like this ! "

" Nothing," returned Gashford with a sneer. '• If you are
cast into prison ; if the young man " — here he looked hard
at Barnaby's attentive face — "is dragged from us and from
his friends ; perhaps from people Avhom he loves, and whom
his death would kill ; is thrown into jail, brought out and
hanged before their eyes ; still, do nothing. You'll find it
your best policy, I have no doubt."

" Come on ! " cried Hugh, stfiding towards the door.
" Dennis — Barnaby — come on ! "

" Where ? To do Avhat ? " said Gashford, slipping past
him, and standing with his back against it.

" Anywhere ! Anything I " cried Hugh. "' Stand aside,
master, or the window will serve our turn as well. Let us
out ! "

" Ha, ha, ha ! You are of such — of such an impetuous
nature," said Gashford, changing his manner for one of the
utmost good-fellowship and the pleasantest railler}^ ; " you are
such- an excitable creature — but you'll drink with me before
you go ? "

" Oh, yes — certainly," growled Deniiis, drawing his sleeve
across his thirsty lips. "No malice, brother. Drink with
Muster Gashford ! "

Hugh wiped his heated brow, and relaxed into a smile.
The artful secretary laughed outright.

" Some liquor here ! Be quick, or he'll not stop, even for
that. He is a man of such desperate ardor I " said the
smooth secretar}^, whom iNIr. Dennis corroborated with sundry
nods and muttered oaths — " Once roused, he is a fellow of
such fierce determination ! "

BARNABY BUDGE. 437

Hugh poised his sturdy arm aloft, and clapping Barnaby
on the back, bade hirn fear nothing. They shook hands
together — poor Barnaby evidently possessed with the idea
that he was among the most virtuous and disinterested heroes
in the world — and Gashf ord laughed again.

'' I hear," he said smoothl}^, as he stood among them with
a great measure of liquor in his hand, and filled their glasses
as quickly and as often as they chose, " I hear — but I cannot
say whether it be true or false — that the men who are
loitering in the streets to-night are half disposed to pull down
a Komish chapel or two, and that they only want leaders. I
even heard mention of those in Duke Street, Lincoln's-Inn
Fields, and in Warwick Street, Golden Square ; but common
report, you know — You are not going ? "

" — To do nothing, master, eh?" cried Hugh. "Xo jails
and halter for Barnaby and me. They must be frightened
out of that. Leaders are wanted, are they ? Xow, boys ! "

" A most impetuous fellow ! " cried the secretary. " Ha,
ha! A courageous, boisterous, most vehement fellow! A
man who " —

There was no need to finish the sentence, for they had
rushed out of the house, and were far beyond hearing. He
stopped in the middle of a laugh, listened, drew on his gloves,
and, clasping his hands behind him, paced the deserted room
for a long time, then bent his steps towards the busy town,
and walked into the streets.

They were filled with people, for the rumor of that day's
proceedings had made a great noise. Those persons who did
not care to leave home, were at their doors or windows, and
one topic of discourse prevailed on every side. Some reported
that the riots were effectually put down ; others that they had
broken out again : some said that Lord George Gordon had
been sent under a strong guard to the Tower ; others, that an
attempt had been made upon the King's life, that the soldiers
had been again called out, and that the noise of musketry in
a distant part of the town had been plainly heard within an
hour. As it grew darker, these stories became more direful
and mysterious ; and often, when some frightened ])assenger
ran past with tidings tliat the rioters were not far off, and

438 BARNABY BUDGE.

were coming up, the doors were shut and barred, lower
windows made secure, and as much consternation engendered
as if the city were invaded by a foreign army.

Gashford walked stealthily about, listening to all he heard,
and diffusing or confirming, whenever he had an opportunity,
such false intelligence as suited his own purpose ; and, busily
occupied in this way, turned into Holborn for the twentieth
time, Avhen a great many women and children came flying
along the street — often panting and looking back — and the
confused murmur of numerous voices struck upon his ear.
Assured by these tokens, and by the red light which began to
flash upon the houses on either side, that some of his friends
were indeed approaching, he begged a moment's shelter at a
door which opened as he passed, and running with some
other persons to an upper window, looked out upon the
crowd.

They had torches among them, and the chief faces were
distinctly visible. That they had been engaged in the destruc-
tion of some building was sufficiently apparent, and that it
was a Catholic place of worship was evident from the spoils
they bore as trophies, which were easily recognizable for the
vestments of priests, and rich fragments of altar furniture.
Covered with soot, and dirt, and dust, and lime ; their
garments torn to rags; their hair hanging wildly about them;
their hands and faces jagged and bleeding with the wounds of
rusty nails ; Barnaby, Hugh, and Dennis hurried on before
them all, like hideous madmen. After them, the dense
throng came fighting on; some singing; some shouting in
triumph; some quarrelling among themselves ; some menacing
the spectators as they passed ; some with great wooden
fragments, on which they spent their rage as if they had been
alive, rending them limb from limb, and hurling the scattered
morsels high into the air ; some in a drunken state, uncon-
scious of the hurts they had received from falling bricks, and
stones, and beams; one borne upon a shutter, in the very
midst, covered with a dingy cloth, a senseless, ghastly heap.
Thus — a vision of coarse faces, with here and there a blot of
flaring smoky light ; a dream of demon heads and savage
eyes, and sticks and iron bars uplifted in the air, and whirled

BAENABT BUDGE. 439

about ; a bewildering horror, in which so much was seen,
and yet so little, which seemed so long and yet so short, in
which there were so many phantoms, not to be forgotten all
through life, and yet so many things that could not be
observed in one distracting glimpse — it flitted onward and
was gone.

As it passed away upon its work of wrath and ruin, a
piercing scream was heard. A knot of persons ran towards
the spot ; Gashford, who just then emerged into the street,
among them. He was on the outskirts of the little concourse,
and could not see or hear what passed within ; but one who
had a better place, informed him that a widow woman had
descried her son among the rioters.

"Is that all?" said the secretary, turning his face
homewards. " Well ! I think this looks a little more like
business ! "

440 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER LI.

Promising as these outrages were to Gashforcl's view, and
much like business as they looked, they extended that night
no farther. The soldiers were again called out, again they
took half a dozen prisoners, and again the crowd dispersed
after a short and bloodless scuffle. Hot and drunken though
they were, they had not yet broken all bounds and set all law
and government at defiance. Something of their habitual
deference to the authority erected by society for its own
preservation yet remained among them, and had its majesty
been vindicated in time, the secretary would have had to
digest a bitter disappointment.

By midnight, the streets were clear and quiet, and, save
that there stood in two parts of the town, a heap of nodding
walls and pile of rubbish, where there had been at sunset a
rich and handsome building, everything wore its usual aspect.
Even the Catholic gentry and tradesmen, of whom there were
many, resident in different parts of the City and its suburbs,
had no fear for their lives or property, and but little indig-
nation for the wrong they had already sustained in the
plunder and destruction of their temples of worship. An
honest confidence in the government under whose protection
they had lived for many years, and a well-founded reliance on
the good feeling and right thinking of the great mass of
the community, Avith whom, notwithstanding their religious
differences, they were every day in habits of confidential
affectionate, and friendly intercourse, reassured them, even
under the excesses that had been committed ; and convinced
them that they who were Protestants in anything but the
name, were no more to be considered as abetters of these
disgraceful occurrences, than they themselves were chargeable
with the uses of the block, the rack, the gibbet, and the stake,
in cruel Mary's reign.

BARNABY BUDGE. 4Ai

The clock was on the stroke of one, when Gabriel Varden
with his lady and Miss Miggs, sat waiting in the little parlor.
This fact; the toppling wicks of the dull, wasted candles; the
silence that prevailed ; and above all the nightcaps of both
maid and matron, were sufficient evidence that they had been
prepared for bed some time ago, and had some strong reason
for sitting up so far beyond their usual hour.

If any other corroborative testimony had been required, it
would have been abundantly furnished in the actions of Miss
Miggs, who, having arrived at that restless state and sensitive
condition of the nervous system which are the result of long
watching, did, by a constant rubbing and tweaking of her
nose, a perpetual change of position (arising from the sudden
growth of imaginary knots and knobs in her chair), a frequent
friction of her eyebrows, the incessant recurrence of a small
cough, a small groan, a gasp, a sigh, a sniff, a spasmodic
start, and by other demonstrations of that nature, so file down
and rasp, as it were, the patience of the locksmith, that after
looking at her in silence for some time, he at last broke out
into this apostrophe, —

" Miggs, my good girl, go to bed — do go to bed. You're
really worse than the dripping of a hundred water-buts
outside the window, or the scratching of as many mice behind
the wainscot. I can't bear it. Do go to bed, .Miggs. To
oblige me — do."

" You haven't got nothing to untie, sir," returned Miss
Miggs, " and therefore your requests does not surprise me.
But Missis has — and while you set up, mini " — she added,
turning to the locksmith's wife, "I couldn't, no not if
twenty times the quantity of cold water was aperiently
running down my back at this moment, go to ])ed witli a
quiet spirit.

Having spoken these words, Miss Miggs made divers efforts
to rub her shoulders in an impossible place, and shivered
from head to foot; thereby giving the behoklers to understand
that the imaginary cascade was still in full flow, but tliat a
sense of duty upheld her under that, and all other sufferings,
and nerved her to endurance.

Mrs. Varden being too sleo})y to speak, and .Miss .Miggs

442 BARNABY BUDGE.

having, as the phrase is, said her say, the locksmith had
nothing for it but to sigh and be as quiet as he could.

But to be quiet with such a basilisk before him, was
impossible. ^ If he looked another way, it was worse to feel
that she was rubbing her cheek, or twitching her ear, or
winking her eye, or making all kinds of extraordinary shapes
with her nose, than to see her do it. If she was for a moment
free from any of these complaints, it was only because of her
foot being asleep, or of her arm having got the fidgets, or of
her leg being doubled up with the cramp, or of some other
horrible disorder which racked her whole frame. If she did
enjoy a moment's ease, then with her eyes shut and her mouth
wide open, she would be seen to sit very stiff and upright in
her chair ; then to nod a little way forward, and stop with
a jerk; then to nod a little farther forward, and stop with
another jerk ; then to recover herself ; then to come forward
again — lower, — lower — lower — by very slow degrees until
just as it seemed impossible that she could preserve her
balance for another instant, and the locksmith was about to
call out in an agony to save her from dashing down upon her
forehead and fracturing her skull, then all of a sudden and
without the smallest notice, she w^ould come upright and rigid
again with her eyes open, and in her countenance an expression
of defiance, sleepy but yet most obstinate, which plainly said
" I've never once closed ' em since I looked at you last, and
I'll take my oath of it ! "

At length, after the clock had struck two, there was a
sound at the street door, as if somebody had fallen against
the knocker by accident. Miss Miggs immediately jumping
up and clapping her hands, cried with a drowsy mingling of
the sacred and profane, " Ally Looyer, mim ! there's
Simmuns's knock ! "

" Who's there ? " said Gabriel.

" Me ! " cried the well-known voice of Mr. Tappertit.
Gabriel opened the door, and gave him admission.

He did not cut a very insinuating figure ; for a man of
his stature suffers in a crowd ; and having been active in
yesterday morning's work, his dress was literally crushed
from head to foot ; his hat being beaten out of all shape, and

BARNABY BUDGE. 443

his shoes trodden down at heel like slippers. His coat
fluttered in strips about him, the buckles Avere torn away
both from his knees and feet, half his neckerchief was gone,
and the bosom of his shirt was rent to tatters. Yet notwith-
standing all these personal disadvantages ; despite his being
very weak from heat and fatigue ; and so begrimed with mud
and dust that he might have been in a ca^e, for anything of
the real texture (either of his skin or apparel) that the eye
could discern ; he stalked haughtily into the parlor, and
throwing himself into a chair, and endeavoring to thrust his
hands into the pockets of his small clothes, which were turned
inside out and displayed upon his legs, like tassels, surveyed
the household with a gloomy dignity.

" Simon," said the locksmith gravely, " How comes it that
you return home at this time of night, and in this condition ?
Give me an assurance that you have not been among the
rioters, and I am satisfied."

*^Sir," replied ^Ir. Tappertit, with a contemptuous look,
"I wonder at your assurance in making such demands."

"You have been drinking," said the locksmith.

"As a general principle, and in the most offensive sense of
the words, sir," returned his journeyman with great self-
possession, "1 consider you a liar. In that last observation
you have unintentionally — unintentionally, sir — struck upon
the truth."

"Martha," said the locksmith, turning to his wife, and
shaking his head sorrowfully, while a smile at the absurd
figure before him still played upon his open face, " I trust it
may turn out that this poor lad is not the victim of the knaves
and fools we have so often had words about, and who have
done so much harm to-day. If lie lias been at Warwick Street
or Duke Street to-niglit" —

"He has been at neither, sir," cried Mr. Tappertit in a
loud voice, which he suddenly dropped into a wliisper as he
repeated, with eyes fixed upon the locksmith, "he lias been
at neither."

"I am glad of it, with all my heart," said the locksmith in
a serious tone ; " for if he had been, and it could b«' ])n)ved
against him, Martha, your Great Association would have Ikm'm

444 BARNABT liUDGE.

to him the cart that draws men to the gallows and leaves
them hanging in the air. It would, as sure as we're alive ! "

Mrs. Varden was too mucli scared by Simon's altered manner
and appearance, and by the accounts of the rioters which had
reached her ears that night, to offer any retort, or to have
recourse to her usual matrimonial policy. Miss Miggs wrung
her hands, and wept.

"He was not at Duke Street or at Warwick Street, G.
Varden," said Simon, sternl}^ : " but he ^cas at Westminster.
Perhaps, sir, he kicked a county member, perhaps, sir, he
tapped a lord — you may stare, sir I repeat it — blood flowed
from noses, and perhaps he tapped a lord. Who knows ?
This," he added, putting his hand into his waistcoat pocket,
and taking out a large tooth, at the sight of which both
Miggs and Mrs. Varden screamed, "this was a bishop's.
Beware, G. Varden ! "

"Now, I would rather," said the locksmith hastily, "have
paid live hundred pounds, than had this come to pass. You
idiot, do you know what peril you stand in ? "

"I know it, sir," replied his journeyman, "'and it is my
glory. I was there, everybody saw me there. I was con-
spicuous, and prominent. I will abide the consequences."

The locksmith, really disturbed and agitated, paced to and
fro in silence — glancing at his former 'prentice every now and
then — and at length stopping before him, said, —

" Get to bed, and sleep for a couple of hours that you may
wake penitent, and with some of your senses about you. Be
sorry for what you have done, and we will try to save you.
If I call him by live o'clock," said Varden, turning hurriedly
to his wife, "and he washes himself clean and changes his
dress, he may get to the Tower Stairs, and away by the
Gravesend tide-boat, before any search is made for him.
From there he can easily get on to Canterbury, where your
cousin will give him work till this storm has blown over. I
am not sure that I do right in screening him from the punish-
ment he deserves, but he has lived in this house, man and boy,
for a dozen years, and I should be sorry if for this one day's
work he made a miserable end. Lock the front door, Miggs,
and show no light towards the street when you go up-stairs.
Quick, Simon ! Get to bed ! "

BARN A BY BUDGE. 445

"And do jou suppose, sir/' retorted Mr. Tappertit, with a
thickness and slowness of speech which contrasted forcibly
with the rapidity and earnestness of his kind-hearted master
— " and do you suppose, sir, that I am base and mean enough
to accept your servile proposition ? — ^Miscreant ! "

"Whatever you please, Sim, but get to bed. Every minute
is of consequence. The light here, Miggs ! "

" Yes yes, oh do ! Go to bed directly," cried the two
women together.'

Mr. Tappertit stood upon his feet, and pushing his chair
away to show that lie needed no assistance, answered, swaying
himself to an fro, and managing his head as if it had no
connection Avhatever with his body : —

"You spoke of Miggs, sir — Miggs may be smothered!" *

" Oh Simmun ! " ejaculated that young lady in a faint
voice. " Oh mini ! Oh sir ! Oh goodness gracious, what a
turn he has give me ! "

"This family may all be smothered, sir," returned ^Ir.
Tappertit, after glancing at her with a smile of ineffable
disdain, "excepting Mrs. V. 1 have come here, sir, for her
sake, this night. Mrs. Varden, take this piece of paper. It's
a protection, ma'am. You may need it."

With these words he held out at arm's length, a dirty,
crumpled scrap of writing. The locksmith took it from him,
opened it, and read as follows : —

All good friends to our cause, I hope will be particular, and do no
injury to the property of any true Protestant. I am well assured that
the proprietor of this house is a stanch and worthy friend to the cause.

George G ok don.

" What's this ? " said the locksmith, with an altered face.

" Something that'll do you good service, young feller,"
replied his journeyman, "as you'll hud. Keep that safe,
and where you can lay your hand upon it in an instant.
And chalk 'No Popery ' on your door to-morrow night, and
for a week to come — that's all."

"This is a genuine document," said the locksmith, "I
know, for I have seen the hand before. What threat does it
im])ly ? What devil is abroad '.' "

446 BABNABY BUDGE.

"A fiery devil," retorted Sim; "a flaming furious devil.
Don't you put yourself in its way, or you're done for, my
buck. Be warned in time, G. Yarden. Farewell ! "

But here the two women threw themselves in his way —
especially ]\Iiss Miggs, who fell upon him with such fervor
that she pinned him against the wall — and conjured him in
moving words not to go forth till he was sober ; to listen to
reason ; to think of it ; to take some rest, and then determine.

" I tell you," said Mr. Tappertit, " that my mind is made
up. My bleeding country calls me and I go ! Miggs, if you
don't get out of the way, I'll pinch you."

Miss Miggs, still clinging to the rebel, screamed once
vociferously — but whether in the distraction of her mind, or
because of his having executed his threat, is uncertain.

'• Kelease me," said Simon, struggling to free himself from
her chaste, but spider-like embrace. " Let me go ! I have
made arrangements for you in an altered state of society, and
mean to provide for j^ou comfortably in life — there ! Will
that satisfy you ? "

" Oh Simmum ! " cried Miss Miggs. '' Oh my blessed
Simmun ! Oh mini ! what are my feelings at this conflicting
moment ! "

Of a rather turbulent description, it would seem ; for her
nightcap had been knocked off in the scuffle, and she was on
her knees npon the floor, making a strange revelation of blue
and yellow curl-papers, straggling locks of hair, tags of
staylaces, and strings of it's impossible to say what ; panting
for breath, clasping her hands, turning her eyes upwards,
shedding abundance of tears, and exhibiting various other
symptoms of the actutest mental suffering.

"Heave," said Simon, turning to his master, with an utter
disregard of Miggs's maidenly affliction, "a box of things up-
stairs. Do what you like with 'em. /don't want 'em. I'm
never coming back here, any more. Provide yourself, sir,
with a journeyman ; I'm my country's journeyman ; hence-
forward that's my line of business."

" Be what you like in two hours' time, but now go up to
bed," returned the locksmith, planting himself in the doorway.
" Do you hear me ? Go to bed ! "

BARNABY BUDGE. 447

"I hear you, and defy you, Varden," rejoined Simon
Tappertit. '-Tliis night, sir, I have been in the country,
planning an expedition which shall fill your bell-hanging soul
with wonder and dismay. The plot demands iny utmost
energy. Let me pass ! "

" I'll knock you down if you come near the door,*' replied
the locksmith. '•' You had better go to bed ! "

Simon made no answer, but gathering himself up as
straight as he could, plunged head foremost at his old master,
and the two went driving out into the workshop together,
plying their hands and feet so briskly that they looked like
half a dozen, while Miggs and Mrs. Varden screamed for
twelve.

It would have been easy for Yarden to knock his old
'prentice down, and bind him hand and foot ; but as he was
loath to hurt him in his then defenceless state, he contented
himself with parrying his blows when he could, taking them
in perfect good part when he could not, and keei)ing between
him and the door, until a favorable opportunity should present
itself for forcing him to retreat up-stairs, and shutting him
up in his own room. But, in the goodness of his heart, he
calculated too much upon his adversary's weakness, and forgot
that drunken men who have lost the power of walking
steadily, can often run. Watching his time, Simon Tappertit
made a cunning show of falling back, staggered unexpectedly
forward, brushed past him, opened the door (he knew the
trick of that lock well), and darted down the street like a
mad dog. The locksmith paused for a moment in the excess
of his astonishment, and then gave chase.

It was an excellent season for a run, for at that silent liour
the streets were deserted, the air was cool, and the Hying
figure before him distinctly visible at a great distance, as it
sped away, witli a long gaunt shadow following at its heels.
But the sliort-winded locksmith had no chance against a man
of Sim's youth and spare figure, tliough the day had been
when he (jould have run liim down in no time. The si)ace
between them rapidly increased, and as the rays of the rising
sun streamed upon Simon in the act of turning a distant
corner, Gabriel Yarden was fain to give up, and sit down 0:1

448 BARNABY BUDGE.

a door-step to fetch his breath. Simon meanwhile, without
once stopping, fled at the same degree of swiftness to The
Boot, where, as he well knew, some of his company were
lying, and at which respectable hostelry — for he had already
acquired the distinction of being in great peril of the law — a
friendly watch liad been expecting him all night, and was
even now on the lookout for his coming.

" Go thy ways, Sim, go thy ways," said the locksmith, as
soon as he could speak. " I have done my best for thee, poor
lad, and would have saved thee, but the rope is round thy
neck, I fear."

So saying, and shaking his head in a very sorrowful and
disconsolate manner, he turned back, and soon re-entered his
own house, where Mrs. Varden and the faithful Miggs had
been anxiously expecting his return.

Now Mrs. Varden (and by consequence Miss Miggs like-
wise) was impressed with a secret misgiving that she had
done wrong ; that she had, to the utmost of her small means,
aided and abetted the growth of disturbances, the end of which
it was impossible to foresee ; that she had led remotely to the
scene which had just passed ; and that the locksmith's time
for triumph and reproach had now arrived indeed. And so
strongly did Mrs. Varden feel this, and so crestfallen was she
in consequence, that while her husband was pursuing their
lost journeyman, she secreted under her chair the little red-
brick dwelling-house with the yellow roof, lest it should fur-
nish new occasion for reference to the painful theme; and
now hid the same still more, with the skirts of her dress.

But it happened that the locksmith had been thinking of
this very article on his way home, and that, coming into the
room and not seeing it, he at once demanded where it was.

Mrs. Varden had no resource but to produce it, which she
did with many tears, and broken protestations that if she
could have known —

" Yes, yes," said Varden, " of course — I know that. I
don't mean to reproach you, my dear. But recollect from
this time that all good things perverted to evil purposes, are
worse than those which are naturally bad. A thoroughly
wicked woman is wicked indeed. When reli<:ion groes wrong,

BARNABY BUDGE. 449

she is very wrong, for tlie same reason. Let us say no more
about it, my dear/'

So he dropped the red-brick dwelling-house on the floor,
and setting his heel upon it, crushed it into pieces. The
halfpence, and sixpences, and other voluntary contributions,
rolled about in all directions, but nobody offered to touch
them or to take them up.

" That," said the locksmith, " is easily disposed of, and I
would to Heaven that everything growing out of the same
society could be settled as easily."

" It happens very fortunately, Varden," said his wife with
her handkerchief to her eyes, '' that in case any more dis-
turbances should happen — which I hope not ; I sincerely
hope not " —

" I hope so too, my dear."

" — That in case any should occur, we have the piece of
paper which that poor misguided young man brought."

" Ay, to be sure,'' said the locksmith, turning quickly round,
" Where is that piece of paper ? "

Mrs. Varden stood aghast as he took it from her out-
stretched hand, tore it into fragments, and threw them under
the grate.

" Not use it ? " she said.

"Use it!" cried the locksmith. ^' Xo ! Let them come
and pull the roof about our ears ; let them burn us out of
house and home ; I'd neither have the protection of their
leader, nor chalk their howl upon my door, though, for not
doing it, they shot me on my own threshold. Use it ! Let
them come and do their worst. The tirst man who crosses
my door-step on such an errand as theirs, had better be a
hundred miles away. Let him look to it. The others may
have their will. I wouldn't beg or buy them off, if, instead
of every pound of iron in the place, there was a hundred
weight of gold. Get you to bed, Martha. I sliall take down
the shutters and go to work."

" So early ! " said his wife.

"Ay," replied the locksmith, clieerily, "so early. Come
when they may, they shall not find us skulking and hiding
as if we feared to take our portion of the light of day, and

VOL. I.

450 BARNABT EUJDGE.

left it all to them. So pleasant dreams to you, mj dear, and
cheerful sleep ! "

With that he gave his wife a hearty kiss, and bade her
delay no- longer, or it would be time to rise before she lay
down to rest. Mrs. Varden quite amiably and meekly walked
up-stairs, followed by Miggs, who, although a good deal sub-
dued, could not refrain from sundry stimulative coughs and
sniffs by the way, or from holding up her hands in astonish-
ment at the daring conduct of master.

BARNABY BUDGE. 451

CHAPTER LIT.

A MOB is usually a creature of very mysterious existence,
particularly in a large city. Where it comes from or whither
it goes, few men can tell. Assembling and dispersing with
equal suddenness, it is as difficult to follow to its various
sources as the sea itself ; nor does the parallel stop here, for
the ocean is not more fickle and uncertain, more terrible when
roused, more unreasonable, or more cruel.

The people who were boisterous at Westminster upon the
Friday morning, and were eagerly bent upon the work of
devastation in Duke Street and Warwick Street at night, were,
in the mass, the same. Allowing for the chance accessions of
which any crowd is morally sure in a town where there must
always be a large number of idle and profligate persons, one
and the same mob was at both places. Yet they spread
themselves in various directions when they dispersed in the
afternoon, made no appointment for re-assembling, had no
definite purpose or design, and indeed, for anything they
knew, were scattered beyond the hope of future union.

At The Boot, which, as has been shown, was in a manner
the headquarters of the rioters, there were not, upon this
Friday night, a dozen people. Some slept in the stable and
outhouses, some in the common room, some two or three in
beds. The rest were in their usual homes or haunts. Perhaps
not a score in all lay in the adjacent fields and lanes, and
under haystacks, or near the warmth of brick-kilns, who had
not their accustomed place of rest beneath tlie open sky. As
to the public ways within the town, they had their ordinary
nightl}^ occupants, and no others ; tlie usual amount of vice
and wretchedness, ])ut no more.

The experience of one evening, however, liad tauglit the
reckless leaders of disturbance, that they liad but to sliow

452 BARXABY BUDGE.

themselves in the streets, to be immediately surrounded by-
materials which they could only have kept together when their
aid was not required, at great risk, expense and trouble.
Once possessed of this secret, they were as confident as if
twenty thousand men, devoted to their will, liad been encamped
about them, and assumed a confidence which could not have
been surpassed, though that had really been the case. All day
Saturday they remained quiet. On Sunday they rather studied
how to keep their men within call, and in full hope, than to fol-
low out, by any very fierce measure, their first day's proceedings.

" I hope,-' said Dennis, as, with a loud yawn, he raised his
body from a heap of straw on which he had been sleeping,
and supporting liis head upon his hand, appealing to Hugh on
Sunday morning, " that Muster Gashford allows some rest ?
Perhaps he'd have us at work again already, eh ? "

'' It's not his way to let matters drop, you may be sure of
that," growled Hugh in answer. "I'm in no humor to stir
yet, though. I'm as stiff as a dead body, and as full of ugly
scratches as if I had been fighting all day yesterday with wild
cats."

"You've so much enthusiasm, that's it," said Dennis,
looking with great admiration at the uncombed head, matted
beard, and torn hands and face of the wild figure before him ;
" you're such a devil of a fellow. You hurt yourself a hundred
times more than you need, because 3'ou will be foremost in
everything, and will do more than the rest."

" For the matter of that," returned Hugh, shaking back his
ragged hair and glancing towards the door of the stable in
which they lay ; " there's one yonder as good as me. What
did I tell you about him ? Did I say he was worth a dozen,
when you doubted him ? "

Mr. Dennis rolled lazily over upon his breast, and resting
his chin upon his hand in imitation of the attitude in which
Hugh la}', said, as he, too, looked towards the door, —

"Ay, ay, you knew him brother, you knew him. But who'd
suppose to look at that chap now, that he could be the man he
is ! Isn't it a thousand cruel pities, brother, that instead of
taking his nat'ral rest and qualifying himself for further exer-
tions in this here /lonorable cause, he should be playing at

BARNABY BUDGE. 453

soldiers like a boy ? And his cleanliness too ! " said Mr.
Dennis, who certainly had no reason to entertain a fellow-
feeling with anybody who was particular on that score ; "what
weaknesses he's guilty of, with respect to his cleanliness ! At
five o'clock this morning, there he was at the pump, though
any one would think he had gone through enough, the day
before yesterday, to be pretty fast asleep at that time. But
no — when I woke for a minute or two, there he was at the
pump, and if you'd have seen him sticking them peacock's
feathers into his hat when he'd done washing — ah ! I'm sorry
he's such a imperfect character, but the best on us is incom-
plete in some pint of view or another."

The subject of this dialogue and of these concluding remarks,
which were uttered in a tone of philosophical meditation, was,
as the reader will have divined, no other than Barnaby, who,
with his flag in his hand, stood sentry in the little patch of
sunlight at the distant door, or walked to and fro outside,
singing softly to himself, and keeping time to the music of
some clear church-bells. Whether he stood still, leaning with
both hands on the flag-staff, or, bearing it upon his shoulder,
paced slowly up and down, the careful arrangement of his
poor dress, and his erect and lofty bearing, showed how high
a sense he had of the great importance of his trust, and how
happy and how proud it made him. To Hugh and his com-
panion, who lay in a dark corner of the gloomy shed, he, and
the sunlight, and the peaceful Sabbath sound to which he
made response, seemed like a bright picture framed by the
door, and set off by the stable's blackness. The whole formed
such a contrast to themselves, as they lay wallowing, like some
obscene animals, in their squalor and wickedness on the two
heaps of straw, that for a few moments the}' looked on without
speaking, and felt almost ashamed.

'•Ah !" said Hugh at length, carrying it off with a laugh :
"He's a rare fellow is Barnaby, and can do more, with less
rest, or meat, or drink, than any of us. As to his soldiering,
/put him on duty there."

"Then there was a object in it, and a projter good one too.
I'll be sworn," retorted Dennis witli a broad grin, and an (»:ith
of the same quality. " Wluit was it, brotlicr ?"

454 BAHyABY BUDGE.

"Why, you see," said Hugh, crawling a little nearer to him,,
"that our noble captain 3'onder, caine in yesterday morning
rather the worse for liquor, and was — like you and me —
ditto last night."

Dennis looked to where Simon Tappertit lay coiled upon a
truss of hay, snoring profoundly", and nodded.

"And our noble captain," continued Hugh with another
laugh, "our noble captain and I have planned for to-morrow
a roaring expedition, with good profit in it."

" Again, the papists ? " asked Dennis, rubbing his hands.

"Ay, against the papists — against one of 'em at least, that
some of us, and I for one, owe a good heavy grudge to."

"Not IMuster Gashford's friend that he spoke to us about in
my house, eh ? " said Dennis, brimful of pleasant expectation.

"The same man," said Hugh.

" That's your sort," cried Mr. Dennis, gayly shaking hands
with him, " that's the kind of game. Let's have revenges and
injuries, and all that, and we shall get on twice as fast. IS'ow
you talk, indeed ! "

" Ha, ha, ha ! The captain," added Hugh, "' has thoughts of
carrying off a woman in the bustle, and — ha, ha, ha ! — and
so have I ! "

Mr. Dennis received this part of the scheme with a wry face,
observing that as a general principle he objected to women
altogether, as being unsafe and slippery persons, on whom
there was no calculating with any certainty, and who were
never in the same mind for four and twenty hours at a stretch.
He might have expatiated on this suggestive theme at much
greater length, but that it occurred to him to ask what con-
nection existed between the proposed expedition and Barnaby's
being posted at the stable door as sentry ; to which Hugh cau-
tiously replied in these words, —

"Wh}"^, the people we mean to visit, were friends of his,
once upon a time, and I know that much of him to feel pretty
sure that if he thought we were going to do them any harm,
he'd be no friend to our side, but would lend a ready hand to
the other. So I've persuaded him (for I know him of old)
that Lord George has picked him out to guard this place to-
morrow while we're away, and that it's a great honor — and

BARNABY BUDGE. 45o

so he's on duty now, and as proud of it as if he was a general.
Ha, ha ! What do you say to nie for a careful man as well as
a d^vil of a one ? "

Mr. Dennis exhausted himself in compliments, and then
added, —

'•'But about the expedition itself" —

'•About that," said Hugh, '"you shall hear all particulars
from me and the great captain conjointly and both together —
for see, he's waking up. Rouse yourself, lion-heart. Ha, ha !
Put a good face upon it, and drink again. Another hair of the
dog that bit you, captain ! Call for drink ! There's enough
of gold and silver cups and candlesticks buried underneath my
bed," he added, rolling back the straw, and pointing to where
the ground was newly turned, " to pay for it, if it was a score
of casks full. Drink, captain ! "

Mr. Tappertit received these jovial promptings with a very
bad grace, being much the worse, both in mind and body, for
his' two nights of debauch, and but indifferently able to stand
upon his legs. With Hugh's assistance, however, he contrived
to stagger to the pump ; and having refreshed himself with an
abundant draught of cold water, and a copious shower of the
same refreshing liquid on his head and face, he ordered some
rum and milk to be served ; and upon that innocent beverage
and some biscuits and cheese made a pretty hearty meal. That
done, he disposed himself in an easy attitude on the ground
beside his two companions (who were carousing after their
own tastes), and proceeded to enlighten Mr. Dennis in refer-
ence to to-morrow's project.

That their conversation was an interesting one, was rendered
manifest by its length, and by the close attention of all three.
That it was not of an oppressively grave character, but was
enlivened by various pleasantries arising out of the subject,
was clear from their loud and frequent roars of laughter, which
startled Barnaby on his post, and made him wonder at their
levity. But he was not summoned to join them, until they
had eaten, and drunk, and slept, and talked togetlier for some
hours ; not, indeed, until the twilight ; when they informed
him that they were about to make a slight demonstration in
the streets — just to kec}) the people's hands in, i's it w.is

456 BARNABY BUDGE.

Sunday night, and the public might otherwise be disappointed
— and that he was free to accompany them if he would.

Without the slightest preparation, saving that they carried
clubs and wore the blue cockade, they sallied out into the
streets ; and, with no more settled design than that of doing
as much mischief as they could, paraded them at random.
Their numbers rapidly increasing, they soon divided into
parties ; and agreeing to meet by and by, in the fields near
Welbeck Street, scoured the town in various directions. The
largest bod}', and that which augmented with the greatest
rapidity, was the one to which Hugh and Barnaby belonged.
This took its way towards Moorfields, where there was a rich
chapel, and in which neighborhood several Catholic families
were known to reside.

Beginning with the private houses so occupied, they broke
open the doors and windows ; and while they destroyed the
furniture and left but the bare walls, made a sharp search for
tools and engines of destruction, such as hammers, pokers,
axes, saws, and such like instruments. Many of the rioters
made belts of cord, of handkerchiefs, or any material they
found at hand, and wore these weapons as openly as pioneers
upon a field-day. There was not the least disguise or con-
cealment — indeed, on this night, very little excitement or
hurry. From the chapels, they tore down and took away the
very altars, benches, pulpits, pews, and flooring ; from the
dwelling-houses, the very wainscoting and stairs. This Sun-
day evening's recreation they pursued like mere workmen
who had a certain task to do, and did it. Fifty resolute men
might have turned them at any moment ; a single company
of soldiers could have scattered them like dust ; but no man
interposed, no authority restrained them, and, except by the
terrified persons who fled from their approach, they were as
little heeded as if they were pursuing their lawful occupa-
tions with the utmost sobriety and good conduct.

In the same manner they marched to the place of rendez-
vous agreed upon, made great fires in the fields, and reserving
the most valuable of their spoils, burned the rest. Priestly
garments, images of saints, rich stuffs and ornaments, altar-
furniture and household goods, were cast into the flames, and

BABNABY BUDGE. 457

shed a glare on the whole country round ; but they danced,
and howled, and roared about tliese fires till they were tired,
and were never for an instant checked.

As the main body filed off from this scene of action, and
passed down Welbeck Street they came upon Gashford, who
had been a witness of their proceedings, and was walking
stealthily along the pavement. Keeping up with liim, and
yet not seeming to speak, Hugh muttered in his ear, —

" Is this better, master ? "

" No," said Gashford. " It is not."

" What would you have ? " said Hugh. " Fevers are never
at their height at once. They must go on by degrees."

" I would have you," said Gashford, pinching his arm with
such malevolence that his nails seemed to meet in the skin :
" I would have you put some meaning into your work. Fools !
Can you make no better bonfires than of rags and scraps ?
Can you burn nothing whole ? "

" A little patience, master," said Hugh. " Wait a but few
hours, and you shall see. Look for a redness in the sky to-
morrow night."

With that, he fell back into his place beside Barnaby ; and
when the secretary looked after him, both were lost iu the
crowd.

458 BARNABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER LIII.

The next clay was ushered in by merry peals of bells, and
by the firing of the Tower guns ; flags were hoisted on many
of the church-steeples ; the usual demonstrations were made,
in honor of the anniversary of the King's birthday ; and
every man went about his pleasure or business, as if the city
were in perfect order, and there were no half-smouldering
embers in its secret places which on the approach of night
would kindle up again, and scatter ruin and dismay abroad.
The leaders of the riot, rendered still more daring by the
success of last night and by the booty they had acquired, kept
steadily together, and only thought of imj)licating the mass of
their followers so deeply that no hope of pardon or reward
might tempt them to betray their more notorious confederates
into the hands of justice.

Indeed, the sense of having gone too far to be forgiven,
held the timid together no less than the bold. Many, who
would readily have pointed out the foremost rioters and given
evidence against them, felt that escape by that means was
hopeless, when their every act had been observed by scores of
people who had taken no part in the disturbances ; who had
suffered in their persons, peace, or property, by the outrages
of the mob ; who would be most willing witnesses ; and whom
the government would, no doubt, prefer to any King's evidence
that might be offered. Many of this class had deserted their
usual occupations on the Saturday morning ; some, had been
seen by their employers, active in the tumult ; others, knew
they must he suspected, and that they would be discharged if
they returned ; others, had been desperate from the beginning^
and comforted themselves with the homely proverb, that, being
hanged at all, they might as well be hanged for a sheep as a
lamb. They all hoped and believed, in a greater or less

BARNABY BUDGE. 459

degree, that the government they seemed to have paralyzed,
would, in its terror, come to terms with them in the end, and
suffer them to make their own conditions. The least sanguine
among them reasoned with himself that, at the worst, they
were too many to be all punished, and that he had as f^ood a
chance of escape as any other man. The great mass never
reasoned or thought at all, but were stimulated by their own
headlong passions, by poverty, by ignorance, by the love of
mischief, and the hope of plunder.

One other circumstance is worthy of remark ; and that is
that from the moment of their first outbreak at ^^'estminster
every symptom of order or preconcerted arrangement among
them, vanished. When they divided into parties and ran to
different quarters of the town, it was on the spontaneous
suggestion of the moment. Each party swelled as it went
along, like rivers as they roll towards the sea ; new leaders
sprang up as they were wanted, disappeared when the neces-
sity Avas over, and reappeared at the next crisis. Each tumult
took shape and form, from the circumstances of the moment ;
sober workmen going home from their day's labor, were seen
to cast down their baskets of tools and become rioters in an
instant; mere boys on errands did the like. In a word, a
moral plague ran through the city. The noise, and hurry,
and excitement, had for hundreds and hundreds an attraction
they had no firmness to resist. The contagion spread, like a
dread fever : an infectious madness, as yet not near its height,
seized on new victims every hour, and society began to tremble
at their ravings.

It was between two and three o'clock in the afternoon when
Gashford looked into the lair described in the last chaptt'r,
and seeing only Barnaby and Dennis there, inquired for
Hugh.

He was out, Barnaby told him ; had gone out more than an
hour ago ; and had not yet returned.

"Dennis!" said the smiling secretary, in his snu)otliest
voice, as he sat down cross-legged on a barivl, '• Dennis ! "

The hangman struggled into a sitting posture directly, and
with his eyes wide o])en, looked towards liim.

"How do you do, ])('nnis? " said (iasliford, noddiiij:^. "1

460 BARNABY BUDGE.

hope you have suffered no inconvenience from jour late exer-
tions, Dennis ? "

" I always will say of you Cluster Gashford," returned the
hangman, staring at him, '• that that 'ere quiet way of yours
might almost wake a dead man. It is," he added with a
muttered oath — still staring at him in a thoughtful manner
— " so awful sly ! "

" So distinct, eh Dennis ? "

"Distinct!" he answered, scratching his head, and keeping
his eyes upon the secretary's face ; " I seem to hear it. Muster
Gashford, in my wery bones."

"1 am very glad your sense of hearing is so sharp, and
that I succeed in making myself so intelligible," said Gash-
ford, in his unvarying, even tone. " Where is your friend ? "

j\[r. Dennis looked round as in expectation 'of beholding
him asleep upon his bed of straw ; then remembering that he
had seen him go out, replied, —

" I can't say where he is, Muster Gashford, I expected him
back afore now. I hope it isn't time that we was busy,
Muster Gashford ? "

"' Nay," said the secretary, " who should know that as well
as you ? How can I tell you, Dennis ? You are perfect
master of your own actions, you knoAV, and accountable to
nobody — except sometimes to the law, eh ? "

Dennis, who was very much baffled by the cool matter-of-
course manner of this reply, recovered his self-possession on
his professional pursuits being referred to, and pointing
towards Barnaby, shook his head and frowned.

" Hush ! " cried Barnaby.

" Ah ! Do hush about that. Muster Gashford," said the
hangman in a low voice, "pop'lar prejudices — you always
forget — well, Barnaby, my lad, what's the matter ? "

"I hear him coming," he answered: "Hark! Do you
mark that ? That's his foot ! Bless you, I know his step,
and his dog's too. Tramp, tramp, pit-pat, on they come
together, and, ha, ha, ha ! — and here they are ! " he cried
joyfully, welcoming Hugh with both hands, and then patting
him fondly on the back, as if instead of being the rough com-
panion he was, he had been one of the most prepossessing of

BARNABY BUDGE. 461

men. '• Here lie is, and safe tuo ! I am glad to see liim back
again, old Hugh ! "

"I'm a Turk if he don't give me a warmer welcome always
than any man of sense," said Hugh, shaking hands with him
with a kind of ferocious friendship, strange enough to see.
" How are you, boy ? "

" Hearty ! " cried Barnaby, waving his hat. " Ha ha ha !
And merry too, Hugh ! And ready to do anything for the
good cause, and the right, and to help the kind, mild, pale-
faced gentleman — the lord they used so ill — eh, Hugh ? "

" Ay ! " returned his friend, dropping his hand, and looking
at Gashford for an instant with a changed expression before
he spoke to him. " Good-day, master ! "

" And good-day to you," replied the secretary, nursing his
leg. " And many good days — whole years of them, I hope.
You are heated."

"So would you have been, master," said Hugh, wiping his
face, " if you'd been running here as fast as I have."

" You know the news, then ? Yes, I supposed you would
have heard it."

" JSTews ! what news ! "

" You don't ? " cried Gashford, raising his eyebrows with
an exclamation of surprise. " Dear me ! Come ; then I am
the first to make you acquainted with your distinguished
position after all. Do you see the King's Arms a-top ? " lie
smilingly asked, as he took a large paper from his pocket,
unfolded it, and held it out for Hugh's inspection.

" Well ! " said Hugh. " What's that to me ? "

"Much. A great deal," replied the secretary. " Read it."

" I told you, the first time I saw you, that I couldn't read,"
said Hugh, impatiently. " What in the Devil's name's inside
of it ? "

" It is a proclamation from the King in Council,'' said
Gashford, " dated to-day, and offering a reward of five hun-
dred pounds — five hundred pounds is a great deal of money,
and a large temptation to some people — to any one wlio will
discover the person or persons most active in demolishing
those chapels on Saturday niglit."

"Is that all ? " cried Hugli, with an indifferent air. "I
knew of that."

462 BARNABT BUDGE.

" Truly I might have known you did," said Gashford, smil-
ing and folding up the document again. "Your friend, I
might have guessed — indeed I did guess — was sure to tell
you."

" My friend ! " stammered Hugh, with an unsuccessful effort
to appear surprised. " What friend ? "

" Tut tut — do you suppose I don't know where you have
been ? " retorted Gashford, rubbing his hands, and beating
the back of one on the palm of the other, and looking at him
with a cunning eye. "How dull you think me ! Shall I say
his name ? "

" No," said Hugh, with a hasty glance towards Dennis.

"You have also heard from him, no doubt," resumed the
secretary, after a moment's pause, "' that the rioters who have
been taken (poor fellows) are committed for trial, and that
some very active witnesses have had the temerity to appear
against them. Among others" — and here he clinched his
teeth, as if he would suppress, by force, some violent words
that rose upon his tongue ; and spoke very slowly. " Among
others, a gentleman who saw the work going on in Warwick
Street ; a Catholic gentleman ; one Haredale."

Hugh would have prevented his uttering the word, but it
was out already. Hearing the name, Barnaby turned swiftly
round.

" Duty, duty, bold Barnaby ! " cried Hugh, assuming his
wildest and most rapid manner, and thrusting into his hand
his staff and flag which leaned against the wall. "Mount
guard without loss of time, for we are off upon our expedition.
Up, Dennis, and get ready ! Take care that no one turns the
straw upon my bed, brave Barnaby ; we know what's under-
neath it — eh ? Now, master, quick ! What you have to say,
say speedily, for the little captain and a cluster of 'em are in
the fields, and only waiting for us. Sharp's the Avord, and
strike's the action. Quick ! "

Barnaby was not proof against this bustle and despatch.
The look of mingled astonishment and anger which had
appeared in liis face when he turned towards them, faded from
it as the words passed from his memory, like breath from a
polished mirror ; and grasping the weapon which Hugh forced

BARNABY BUDGE. 4G3

upon him, he proudly took his station at the door, beyond
their hearing.

"You might have spoiled our plans, master," said Hugh.
" You, too, of all men ! "

" Who would have supposed that he would be so quick ? "
urged Gashford.

" He's as quick sometimes — I don't mean with his hands,
for that you know, but with his head — as you, or any man,"
said Hugh. " Dennis, it's time we were going ; they're wait-
ing for us ; I came to tell you. Reach me my stick and belt.
Here! Lend a hand, master. Fling this over my shoulder,
and buckle it behind, will you ? "

"Brisk as ever!" said the secretary, adjusting it for him
as he desired.

"A man need be brisk to-day; there's brisk work afoot."

" There is, is there ? " said Gashford. He said it with
such a provoking assumption of ignorance, that Hugh, looking
over his slioulder and angrily down upon him, replied, —

" Is there ! You know there is ! Who knows better than
you, master, that the first great step to be taken is to make
examples of these witnesses, and frighten all men from appear-
ing against us or any of our body, any more ? "

"There's one we know of," returned Gashford, with an
expressive smile, " who is at least as well informed upon that
subject as you or I."

" If we mean the same gentleman, as I suppose we do,"
Hugh rejoined softly, " I tell you this — he's as good and
quick information about everything as " — here he paused
and looked round, as if to make quite sure that the person in
question was not within hearing — " as Old Nick himself.
Have you done that, master ? How slow you are ! "

"It's quite fast now," said Gashford, rising. "I say —
you didn't find that your friend disapproved of to-day's little
expedition? Ha ha ha! It is fortunate it jumps so well
with the witness's policy ; for once planned, it must liave been
carried out. And now you are going, eh ? "

"Xow we are going, master!" Hugh replied. -Any part-
ing words ? "

" Oh dear, no," said ( Jasliford sweetly. " None ! "

464 BAByABY BUDGE.

" You're sure ? " cried Hugh, nudging the grinning Dennis.

" Quite sure, eh, Muster Gashford ? " chuckled the hangman.

Gash ford paused a moment, struggling with his caution
and his malice ; then putting himself between the two men,
and laying a hand upon the arm of each, said, in a cramped
whisper, —

" Do not, my good friends — I am sure you will not —
forget our talk one night — in your house, .Dennis — about
this person. Xo mercy, no quarter, no two beams of his
house to be left standing where the builder placed them.
Fire, the saying goes, is a good servant, but a bad master.
Make it his master; he deserves no better. But I am sure
you will be firm, I am sure you will be very resolute, I am
sure you will remember that he thirsts for your lives, and
those of all your brave companions. If you ever acted like
stanch fellows, you will do so to-day. Won't you, Dennis —
won't you, Hugh ? "

The two looked at him, and at each other ; then bursting
into a roar of laughter, brandished their staves above their
heads, shook hands, and hurried out.

AYhen they had been gone a little time, Gashford followed.
They were yet in sight, and hastening to that part of the
adjacent fields in which their fellows had already mustered;
Hugh was looking back, and flourishing his hat to Barnaby,
who, delighted with his trust, replied in the same manner,
and then resumed his pacing up and down before the stable-
door, where his feet had worn a path alread}'. And when
Gashford himself was far distant, and looked back, for the last
time, he was still walking to and fro, with the same measured
tread ; the most devoted and the blithest champion that ever
maintained a post, and felt his heart lifted up with a brave
sense of duty, and determination to defend it to the last.

Smiling at the simplicit}^ of the poor idiot, Gashford betook
himself to Welbeck Street by a different path from that
which he knew the rioters would take, and sitting down
behind a curtain in one of the upper windows of Lord
George Gordon's house, waited impatiently for their coming.
They were so long, that although he knew it had been settled
they should come that way, he had a misgiving they must

GASHFORD WATCHING FOR SIGNS OF THE BURNING OF THE WARREN.

BARNABY BUDGE. 465

have changed their plans and taken some other route. But at
length the roar of voices was heard in the neighboring fields,
and soon afterwards they came thronging past, in a great
body.

However, they were not all, nor nearly all, in one body,
but were, as he soon found, divided into four parties, each of
which stopped before the house to give three cheers, and then
went on ; the leaders crying out in what direction they were
going, and calling on the spectators to join them. The first
detachment, carrying, by way of banners, some relics of the
havoc they had made in Moorfields, proclaimed that they were
on their way to Chelsea, whence they would return in the
same order, to make of the spoil they bore, a great bonfire,
near at hand. The second gave out that they were bound for
Wapping, to destroy a chapel ; the third, that their place of
destination was East Smithfield, and their object the same.
All this was done in broad, bright summer day. Gay car-
riages and chairs stopped to let them pass, or turned back
to avoid them ; people on foot stood aside in doorways, or
perhaps knocked and begged permission to stand at a window,
or in the hall, until the rioters had passed : but nobody inter-
fered with them; and when they had gone by, everything
went on as usual.

There still remained the fourth body, and for that the
secretary looked with a most intense eagerness. At last it
came up. It was numerous, and composed of picked men ;
for as he gazed down among them, he recognized many
upturned faces which he knew well — those of Simon Tap-
pertit, Hugh, and Dennis in the front, of course. Tliey
halted and cheered, as the others had done ; but when they
moved again, they did not, like them, proclaim wliat design
they had. Hugh merely raised his hat upon the bludgeon he
carried, and glancing at a spectator on tlie opposite side of
the way, was gone.

Gashford followed the direction of his glance instinctively,
and saw, standing on the pavement, and wearing the blue
cockade. Sir John Chester. He held his hat an inch or two
above his head to propitiate the mob; ami, resting gracefully
on his cane, smiling pleasantly, and displaying his dress and

VOL. I.

466 BABNABY BUDGE.

person to the very best advantage, looked on in the most
tranquil state imaginable. For all that, and quick and dex-
terous as he was, Gashford had seen him recognize Hugh
with the air of a patron. He had no longer any eyes for the
crowd, but fixed his keen regards upon Sir John.

He stood in the same place and posture, until the last man
in the concourse had turned the corner of the street ; then
very deliberately took the blue cockade out of his hat; put
it carefully in his pocket, ready for the next emerge;icy ;
refreshed himself with a pinch of snuff ; put up his box ; and
was walking slowly off, when a passing carriage stopped, and
a lady's hand let down the glass. Sir John's hat was off
again immediately. After a minute's conversation at the
carriage window, in which it was apparent that he w^as vastly
entertaining on the subject of the mob, he stepped lightly in,
and was driven away.

The secretary smiled, but he had other thoughts to dwell
upon, and soon dismissed the topic. Dinner was brought
him, but he sent it down untasted ; and, in restless pacings
up and down the room, and constant glances at the clock, and
many futile efforts to sit down and read, or go to sleep, or
look out of the window^, consumed four weary hours. When
the dial told him thus much time had crept away, he stole
up-stairs to the top of the house, and coming out upon the
roof, sat dow^n, with his face towards the sea.

Heedless of the fresh air that blew upon his heated brow^,
of the pleasant meadows from which he turned, of the piles
of roofs and chimne3"s upon which he looked, of the smoke
and rising mist he vainly sought to pierce, of the shrill cries
of children at their evening sports, the distant hum and tur-
moil of the town, the cheerful country breath that rustled
past to meet it, and to droop, and die; he watched, and
watched, till it was dark — save for the specks of light that
twinkled in the streets below and far away — and, as the
darkness deepened, strained his gaze and grew more eager
yet.

"Nothing but gloom in that direction, still!" he muttered
restlessly. " Dog ! wiiere is the redness in the sky, you
promised me ! "

BAUyABY liUDGE. 46 <

CHAPTER Liy.

Rumors of the prevailing disturbances had, by this time,
begun to be pretty generally circulated through the towns
and villages round London, and the tidings were everywhere
received with that appetite for the marvellous and love of
the terrible which have probably been among the natural
characteristics of mankind since the creation of the world.
These accounts, however, appeared, to many persons at that
day — as they would to us at the present, but that we know
them to be matter of history — so monstrous and improbable,
that a great number of those who were resident at a distance,
and who were credulous enough on other points, were really
unable to bring their minds to believe that such things could
be ; and rejected the intelligence they received on all hands,
as wholly fabulous and absurd.

Mr. Willet — not so much, perhaps, on account of his
having argued and settled the matter with himself, as by
reason of his constitutional obstinacy — was one of those
who positively refused to entertain the current topic for a
moment. On this very evening, and perhaps at the very
time when Gashford kept his solitary watch, old John was
so red in the face with perpetually shaking his head in con-
tradiction of his three ancient cronies and pot companions,
that he was quite a phenomenon to behold, and lighted up the
Maypole Porch wherein they sat together, like a monstrous
carbuncle in a fairy tale.

"Do you think, sir," said Mr. Willet, looking hard at
Solomon Daisy — for it was his custom in cases of personal
altercation to fasten upon the smallest man in tlie part}' —
"do you think sir, that Pm a born fool ? "

"No, no, Johnny," returned Solomon, h)oking round
upon the little circle of which he formed a i»art : "' We

468 nAliNABY liULGE.

all know better than that. You're no fool, Johnny. No,
no ! "

Mr. Cobb and Mr. Parkes shook their heads in unison,
muttering " No, no, Johnny, not you ! " But as such compli-
ments had usually the effect of making Mr. Willet rather
more dogged than before, he surveyed them with a look of
deep disdain, and returned for answer, —

"Then what do you mean by coming here, and telling me
that this evening you're a-going to walk up to London
together — you three — you — and have the evidence of your
own senses ? Ain't," said ]Mr. Willet, putting his pipe in his
mouth with an air of solemn disgust, "ain"t the evidence of
7711/ senses enough for you ? "

" But we haven't got it, Johnny," pleaded Parkes, humbly.

"You haven't got it, sir ? " repeated Mr. Willet, eying him
from top to toe. " You haven't got it, sir ? You have got it,
sir. Don't I tell you that His blessed Majesty King George
the Third would no more stand a rioting and rollicking in his
streets, than he'd stand being crowed over by his own
Parliament ? "

"Yes, Johnny, but that's your sense — not your senses,"
said the adventurous Mr. Parkes.

" How do you know," retorted John with great dignity.
" You're a-contradictiug pretty free, joii are, sir. How do
you know which it is ? I'm not aware I ever told you, sir."

Mr. Parkes, finding himself in the position of having got
into metaphysics without exactly seeing his way out of them,
stammered forth an apology and retreated from the argument.
There then ensued a silence of some ten minutes or a quarter
of an hour, at the expiration of which period Mr. Willet was
observed to rumble and shake with laughter, and presently
remarked, in reference to his late adversary, " that he hoped
he had tackled him enough." Thereupon, Messrs. Cobb and
Daisy laughed, and nodded, and Parkes was looked upon as
thoroughly and effectually put down.

" Do you suppose if all this was true, that Mr. Haredale
would be constantly away from home, as he is ? " said John
after another silence. " Do you think he wouldn't be afraid
to leave his house with them two young women in it, and
only a couple of men, or so ? "

BAItNABY RUDGE. 469

" Ay, but then you know," returned Solomon Daisy, " his
house is a goodish way out of London, and they do say that
the rioters won't go more than two mile, or three at farthest,
off the stones. Besides, you know, some of the Catholic
gentlefolks have actually sent trinkets and such-like down
here for safety — at least, so the story goes."

^' The story goes ! " said Mr. Willet testily. '•' Yes, sir.
The story goes that you saw a ghost last March. But nobody
believes it."

" "Well !" said Solomon, rising, to divert the attention of
his two friends, who tittered at this retort : " believed or
disbelieved, it's true ; and true or not, if we mean to go to
London, we must be going at once. So shake hands, Johnny,
and good-night."

" I shall shake hands," returned the landlord, putting his
into his pockets, " with no man as goes to London on such
nonsensical errands."

The three cronies were therefore reduced to the necessity of
shaking his elbows ; having performed that ceremony, and
brought from the house their hats, and sticks, and great-coats,
they bade him good-night and departed; promising to bring
him on the morrow full and true accounts of the real state of
the city, and if it were quiet, to give him the full merit of liis
victory.

John Willet looked after them, as they plodded along the
road in the rich glow of a summer evening ; and knocking
the ashes out of his pipe, laughed inwardly at their folly, until
his sides were sore. When he had quite exhausted himself —
which took some time, for he laughed as slowly as he thought
and spoke — he sat himself comfortably with his back to the
house, put his legs upon the bench, tiicn his apron over his
face, and fell sound asleep.

How long he slept, matters not ; but it was for no brief
space, for when he awoke, the rich light had faded, the
sombre hues of night were falling fast upon the landscape,
and a few bright stars were already twinkling overhead.
The birds were all at roost, the daisies on the green liad closed
their fairy hoods, the honeysuckle twining round tlie porch
exhaled its perfume in a twofold degree, as though it lost its

470 BARNABY BUDGE.

coyness at that silent time and loved to shed its fragrance on
the night; the ivy scarcely stirred its deep green leaves.
How tranquil and how beautiful it was !

Was there no sound in the air, besides the gentle rustling
of the trees and the grasshopper's merry chirp ? Hark !
Something very faint and distant, not unlike the murmuring
in a sea-shell. Now it grew louder, fainter now, and now it
altogether died away. Presently, it came again, subsided,
came once more, grew louder, fainter — swelled into a roar.
It was on the road, and varied with its windings. All at once
it burst into a distinct sound — the voices, and the tramping
feet of many men.

It is questionable whether old John Willet, even then, would
have thought of the rioters, but for the cries of his cook and
housemaid, who ran screaming up-stairs and locked themselves
into one of the old garrets, — shrieking dismally when they had
done so, by way of rendering their place of refuge perfectly
secret and secure. These two females did afterwards depone
that Mr. Willet in his consternation uttered but one word, and
called that up the stairs in a stentorian voice, six distinct
times. But as this word was a monosyllable, which, however
inoffensive when applied to the quadruped it denotes, is highly
reprehensible when used in connection with females of unim-
peachable character, many persons were inclined to believe
that the young women labored under some hallucination
caused by excessive fear ; and that their ears deceived them.

Be this as it may, John Willet, in whom the very utter-
most extent of dull-headed perplexity supplied the place of
courage, stationed himself in the porch, and waited for their
coming up. Once, it dimly occurred to him that there was a
kind of door to the house, which had a lock and bolts ; and at
the same time some shadowy ideas of shutters to the lower
windows, flitted through his brain. But he stood stock still,
looking down^the road in the direction in which the noise was
rapidly advancing, and did not so much as take his hands out
of his pockets.

He had not to wait long. A dark mass, looming through a
cloud of dust, soon became visible ; the mob quickened their
pace ; shouting and whooping like savages, they came rushing

BARNABV BUDGE. 471

on pell-mell ; and in a few seconds he was bandied from hand
to hand, in the heart of a crowd of men.

" Holloa ! " cried a voice he knew, as the man who spoke
came cleaving through the throng. "Where is he?
Give him to me. Don't hurt him. How now, old Jack !
Ha ha ha ! "

Mr. Willet looked at him, and saw it was Hugh ; but he
said nothing, and thought nothing.

" These lads are thirsty and must drink ! " cried Hugh,
thrusting him back towards the house. "Bustle, Jack,
bustle. Show us the best — the very best — the over-proof
that you keep for your own drinking, Jack ! "

John faintly articulated the words, " Who's to pay ? "

" He says ' Who's to pay ! ' " cried Hugh with a roar of
laughter which w^as loudly echoed by the crowd. Then turn-
ing to John, he added, " Pay ! Why, nobody."

John stared round at the mass of faces — some grinning,
some fierce, some lighted up by torches, some indistinct, some
dusky and shadowy : some looking at him, some at his house,
some at each other — and while he was, as he thought, in the
very act of doing so, found himself, without any consciousness
of having moved, in the bar ; sitting down in an arm-chair,
aud watching the destruction of his property, as if it were
some queer play or entertainment, of an astonishing and
stupefying nature, but having no reference to himself — that
he could make out — at all.

Yes. Here was the bar — the bar that the boldest never
entered without special invitation — the sanctuary, the mj'stery,
the hallowed ground : here it was, crammed with men, clubs,
sticks, torches, pistols ; filled with a deafening noise, oaths,
shouts, screams, hootings ; changed all at once into a bear-
garden, a madhouse, an infernal temple : men darting in and
out, by door and window, smasliing tlie glass, turning the
taps, drinking liquor out of china punclibowls, sitting astride
of casks, smoking private and personal pipes, cutting down the
sacred grove of lemons, hacking and liewing at the celebrated
cheese, breaking open inviolable drawers, putting things in
their pockets which didn't belong to them, dividing his own
money before his own eyes, wantonly wasting, breaking,

472 BABNABY BUDGE.

pulling down and tearing up : nothing quiet, nothing private :
men everywhere — above, below, overhead, in the bedrooms,
in the kitchen, in the yard, in the stables — clambering in at
windows when there were doors wide open ; dropping out of
windows when the stairs were hand}^; leaping over the
banisters into chasms of passages : new faces and figures pre-
senting themselves every instant — some yelling, some singing,
some fighting, some breaking glass and crockery, some laying
the dust with the liquor they couldn't drink, some ringing the
bells till they pulled them down, others beating them with
pokers till they beat tliem into fragments : more men still —
more, more, more — swarming on like insects : noise, smoke,
light, darkness, frolic, anger, laughter, groans, plunder, fear,
and rain !

Nearly all the time while John looked on at this bewil-
dering scene, Hugh kept near him ; and though he was the
loudest, wildest, most destructive villain there, he saved his
old master's bones a score of times. Nay, even when Mr.
Tappertit, excited by liquor, came up, and in assertion of his
prerogative politely kicked John Willet on the shins, Hugh
bade him return the compliment ; and if old John had had
sufficient i^resence of mind to understand this whispered
direction, and to profit by it, he might no doubt, under Hugh's
protection, have done so with impunity.

At length the band began to reassemble outside the house,
and to call to those within, to join them, for they were losing
time. These murmurs increasing, and attaining a high pitch,
Hugh, and some of those who yet lingered in the bar, and
who plainly were the leaders of the troop, took counsel
together, apart, as to what was to be done with John, to keep
him quiet until their Ciiigwell work was over. Some pro-
posed to set the house on fire and leave him in it ; others,
that he should be reduced to a state of temporary insensibility,
by knocking on the head ; others, that he should be sworn to
sit where he was until to-morrow at the same hour ; others
again, that he should be gagged and taken off with them,
under a sufficient guard. All these propositions being over-
ruled, it was concluded, at last, to bind him in his chair, and
the word was passed for Dennis.

BAllNABY BUDGE. 473

" Look'ee here, Jack I " said Hugh, striding up to him :
"We're going to tie you, hand and foot, but otherwise you
won't be hurt. D'ye hear ? "

John Willet looked at another man, as if he didn't know
which was the speaker, and muttered something about an
ordinary every Sunday at two o'clock.

" You won't be hurt I tell you. Jack — do you hear me ? "
roared Hugh, impressing the assurance upon him by means
of a heavy blow on the back. " He's so dead scared, he's
wool-gathering, I think. Give him a drop of something to
drink here. Hand over, one of you."

A glass of liquor being passed forward, Hugh poured the
contents down old John's throat. Mr. Willet feebly smacked
his lips, thrust his hand into his pocket, and inquired what
what was to pa}' ; adding as he looked vacantly round, that he
believed there was a trifle of broken glass —

" He's out of his senses for the time, it's my belief," said
Hugh, after shaking him, without any visible effect upon his
system, until his ke3's rattled in his pocket. " Where's that
Dennis ? "

The word was again passed, and presently ^Ir. Dennis with
a long cord bound about his middle, something after the
manner of a friar, came hurrying in, attended by a body-
guard of half a dozen of his men.

" Come ! Be alive here ! " cried Hugh, stamping his foot
upon the ground. " jMake haste ! "

Dennis, with a wink and a nod, unwound the cord from
about his person, and raising his eyes to tlie ceiling, looked
all over it, and round the walls and cornice, with a curious
eye ; then shook his head.

"Move, man, can't you!" cried Hugh, with another impa-
tient stamp of his foot. "Are we to wait here till the
cry has gone for ten miles round, and our work's inter-
rupted ? "

"It's all very fine talking, brother,'' answered Dennis,
stepping towards him ; "but unless " — and here he whispered
in his ear — "unless we do it over the door, it can't be done
at all in this here room."

" What can't ? " Hugh demanded.

474 BARNABY RUDGE.

"What can't!" retorted Dennis. "Why, the old man
can't."

" Why, you weren't going to hang him ! " cried Hugh.

" No, brother ? " returned the hangman, with a stare.
" What else ? "

Hugh made no answer, but snatching the rope from his
companion's hand, proceeded to bind old John himself ; but
his very first move was so bungling and unskilful, that Mr.
Dennis entreated, almost with tears in his eyes, that he might
be permitted to perform the duty. Hugh consenting, he
achieved it in a twinkling.

"There!" he said, looking mournfully at John Willet,
who displayed no more emotion in his bonds than he had
shown out of them. " That's what I call pretty, and work-
manlike. He's quite a picter now. But, brother, just a
word with you — now that he's ready trussed, as one may say,
wouldn't it be better for all parties if we was to work him
off? It would read uncommon well in the newspapers, it
would indeed. The public would think a great deal more
on us ! "

Hugh, inferring what his companion meant, rather from
his gestures than his technical mode of expressing himself (to
wliich, as he was ignorant of his calling, he wanted the clew),
rejected this proposition for the second time, and gave the
word " Forward ! " which was echoed by a hundred voices
from without.

" To the Warren ! " shouted Dennis as he ran out, followed
by the rest. "' A witness' house, my lads ! "

A loud yell followed, and the whole throng hurried off,
mad for pillage and destruction. Hugh lingered behind for a
few moments to stimulate himself with more drink, and to'
set all the taps running, a few of which had accidentally been
spared; then, glancing round the despoiled and plundered
room, through whose shattered window the rioters had thrust
the Maypole itself, — for even that had been sawn down, —
lighted a torch, clapped the mute and motionless John Willet
on the back, and waving his light above his head, and uttering
a fierce shout, hastened after his companions.

BARNABY BUDGE, 475

CHAPTER LV.

John Willet, left alone in his dismantled bar, continued
to sit staring about him ; awake as to his eyes, certainly, but
with all his powers of reason and reflection in a sound and
dreamless sleep. He looked round upon the room which had
been for years, and was within an hour ago, the pride of his
heart ; and not a muscle of his face was moved. The night,
without, looked black and cold through the dreary gaps in
the casement ; the precious liquids, noH' nearly leaked away,
dripped with a hollow sound upon the floor; the Maypole
peered ruefully in through the broken window, like the
bowsprit of a wrecked ship ; the ground might have been the
bottom of the sea, it was so strewn with precious fragments.
Currents of air rushed in, as the old doors jarred and creaked
upon their hinges ; the candles flickered and guttered down,
and made long winding-sheets ; the cheery deep-red curtains
flapped and fluttered idly in the wind ; even the. stout Dutch
kegs, overthrown and lying empty in dark corners, seemed
the mere husks of good fellows whose jollity had departed,
and who could kindle with a friendly glow no more. John
saw this desolation, and yet saw it not. He was perfectly
contented to sit there, staring at it, and felt no more in-
dignation or discomfort in his bonds than if they had been
robes of honor. So far as he was personally concerned, old
Time lay snoring, and the world stood still.

Save for the dripping from the barrels, the rustling of such
light fragments of destruction as the wind affected, and the
dull creaking of the open doors, all was profoundly quiet :
indeed, these sounds, like the ticking of the deatli-watch in
the night, only made tlie silence they invaded deeper and
more apparent. But quiet or noisy, it was all one to John.
If a train of heavy artillery could have come up and com-

476 BARNABY BUDGE.

menced ball practice outside the window, it would have been
all the same to him. He was a long way beyond surprise.
A ghost couldn't have overtaken him.

By and by he heard a footstep — a hurried, and yet cautious
footstep — coming on towards the house. It stopped, advanced
again, then seemed to go quite round it. Having done that,
it came beneath the window, and a head looked in.

It was strongly relieved against the darkness outside by the
glare of the guttering candles. A pale, worn, withered face ;
the eyes — but that was owing to its gaunt condition — un-
naturally large and bright ; the hair, a grizzled black. It gave
a searching glance all round the room, and a deep voice said, —

'• Are you alone in this house ? "

John made no sign, though the question was repeated twice,
and he heard it distinctly. After a moment's pause, the man
got in at the window. John was not at all surprised at this,
either. There had been so much getting in and out of window
in the course of the last hour or so, that he had quite forgotten
the door, and seemed to have lived among such exercises from
infancy.

The man wore a large, dark, faded cloak, and a slouched
hat ; he walked up close to John, and looked at him. John
returned the compliment v/ith interest.

'- How long have you been sitting thus ? " said the man.

John considered, but nothing came of it.

" Which way have the party gone ? "

Some wandering speculations relative to the fashion of the
stranger's boots, got into Mr. Willet's mind b}' some accident
or other, but they got out again in a hurry, and left him in
his former state.

" You would do well to speak," said the man : " you may
keep a whole skin, though you have nothing else left that can
be hurt. Which way have the party gone ? "

" That ! " said John, finding his voice all at once, and
nodding with perfect good faith — he couldn't point ; he was
so tightly bound — in exactly the opposite direction to the
right one.

"You lie!" said the man angrily, and with a threatening
gesture. I came that way. You would betray me."

BARNABY BUDGE. 477

It was so evident that John's imperturbability was not
assumed, but was the result of the late proceedings under his
roof, that the man stayed his hand in the very act of striking
him, and turned away.

John looked after him without so much as a twitch in a
single nerve of his face. He seized a glass, and holding it
under one of the little casks until a few drops were collected,
drank them greedily off ; then throwing it down upon the
floor impatiently, he took the vessel in his hands and drained
it into his throat. Some scraps of bread and meat were scat-
tered about, and on these he fell next; eating them with
voracity, and pausing every now and then to listen for some
fancied noise outside. When he had refreshed himself in this
manner with violent haste, and raised another barrel to his
lips, he pulled his hat upon his brow as though he were about
to leave the house, and turned to John.

" Where are your servants ? '*

Mr. Millet indistinctly remembered to have heard the rioters
calling to them to throw the key of the room in which they
were, out of window, for their keeping. He therefore replied,
"Locked up."

" Well for them if they remain quiet, and well for you if
you do the like," said the man. " Now show me the way the
party went."

This time Mr. Willet indicated it correctly. The man was
hurrying to the door, when suddenly there came towards them
on the wind, the loud and rapid tolling of an alarm bell, and
then a bright and vivid glare streamed up, which illumined,
not only the whole chamber, but all the country.

It was not the sudden change from darkness to this dreadful
light, it was not the sound of distant shrieks and shouts of
triumph, it was not this dread invasion of the serenity and
peace of night, that drove the man back as though a thunder-
bolt had struck him. It was the Bell. If the ghastliest
shape the human mind has ever pictured in its wildest dreams
had risen up before him, he could not liave staggered back-
ward from its touch, as he did from the first sound of that
loud iron voice. With eyes that started from his head, liis
limbs convulsed, his face most horrible to see, he raised one

478 BARNABY BUDGE.

arm high up into the air, and holding something visionary
back and down, with his other hand, drove at it as though he
held a knife and stabbed it to the heart. He clutched his
hair, and stopped his ears, and travelled madly round and
round ; then gave a frightful cry, and with it rushed away :
still, still, the Bell tolled on and seemed to follow him —
louder and louder, hotter and hotter 3'et. The glare grew
brighter, the roar of voices deeper ; the crash of heavy bodies
falling shook the air ; briglit streams of sparks rose up into
the sky; but louder than them all — rising faster far, to
Heaven — a million times more fierce and furious — pouring
forth dreadful secrets after its long silence — speaking the
language of the dead — the Bell — the Bell!

What hunt of spectres could surpass that dread pursuit and
flight ! Had there been a legion of them on his track, he
could have better borne it. They would have had a beginning
and an end, but here all space was full. The one pursuing
voice was everywhere : it sounded in the earth, the air ;
shook the long grass, and howled among the trembling trees.
The echoes caught it up, the owls hooted as it flew upon the
breeze, the nightingale was silent and hid herself among the
thickest boughs : it seemed to goad and urge the angry fire,
and lash it into madness ; everything was steeped in one pre-
vailing red ; the glow was everywhere ; nature was drenched
in blood : still the remorseless crying of that awful voice — the
Bell, the Bell !

It ceased ; but not in his ears. The knell was at his heart.
No work of man had ever voice like that which sounded there,
and warned him that it cried unceasingly to Heaven. Who
could hear that bell, and not know what it said ! There was
murder in its every note — cruel, relentless, savage murder —
the murder of a confiding man, by one who held his every
trust. Its ringing summoned phantoms from their graves.
What face was that, in which a friendly smile changed to a
look of half incredulous horror, which stiffened for a moment
into one of pain, then changed again into an imploring glance
at Heaven, and so fell idly down with upturned eyes, like the
dead stags he had often peeped at when a little child : shrink-
ing and shuddering — there was a dreadful thing to think of

BARN A BY BUDGE. 479

now ! — and clinging to an apron as he looked ! He sank
upon the ground, and grovelling down as if he would dig
himself a place to hide in, covered his face and ears : but no,
no, no — a hundred walls and roofs of brass would not shut
out that bell, for in it spoke the wrathful voice of God, and
from that voice, the whole wide universe could not afford a
refuge !

While he rushed up and down, not knowing where to turn,
and while he lay crouching there, the work went briskly on
indeed. When they left the Maypole, the rioters formed into
a solid body, and advanced at a quick pace towards the
Warren. Rumor of their approach having gone before, they
found the garden doors fast closed, the windows made secure,
and the house profoundly dark : not a light being visible in
any portion of the building. After some fruitless ringing at
the bells, and beating at the iron gates, they drew off a few
paces to reconnoitre, and confer upon the course it would be
best to take.

Very little conference was needed, when all were bent upon
one desperate purpose, infuriated with liquor, and flushed
with successful riot. The word being given to surround the
house, some climbed the gates, or dropped into the shallow
trench and scaled the garden wall, while others pulled down
the solid iron fence, and while they made a breach to enter
by, made deadly weapons of the bars. The house being com-
pletely encircled, a small number of men were despatched to
break open a tool-shed in the garden ; and during their
absence on this errand, the remainder contented themselves
with knocking violently at the doors, and calling to those
within, to come down and open them on peril of their lives.

No answer being returned to this repeated summons, and
the detachment who had been sent away, coming back with
an accession of pickaxes, spades, and hoes, they, — together
with those who had such arms already, or carried (as many
did) axes, poles, and crow-bars, — struggled into the foremost
rank, ready to beset the doors and windows. They had not
at this time more than a dozen lighted torches among them ;
but when these preparations were completed, flaming links
were distributed and passed from hand to hand with such

480 BARNABY BUDGE.

rapidity, that, in a minute's time, at least two-thirds of the
whole roaring mass bore, each man in his hand, a blazing
brand. Whirling these about their heads they raised a loud
shout, and fell to work upon the doors and windows.

Amidst the clattering of heavy blows, the rattling of broken
glass, the cries and execrations of the mob, and all the din
and turmoil of the scene, Hugh and his friends kept together
at the turret door where Mr. Haredale had last admitted him
and old John Willet ; and spent their united force on that.
It was a strong old oaken door, guarded by good bolts and a
heavy bar, but it soon went crashing in upon the narrow stairs
behind, and made, as it were, a platform to facilitate their
tearing up into the rooms above. Almost at the same moment,
a dozen other points were forced, and at every one the crowd
poured in like water.

A few armed servant-men were posted in the hall, and
when the rioters forced an entrance there, they fired some
half a dozen shots. But these taking no effect, and tlie con-
course coming on like an army of devils, they only thought of
consulting their own safety, and retreated, echoing their
assailants' cries, and hoping in the confusion to be taken for
rioters themselves ; in which stratagem they succeeded, with
the exception of one old man who was never heard of again,
and was said to have had his brains beaten out with an iron
bar (one of his fellows reported that he had seen the old man
fall), and to have been afterwards burned in the flames.

The besiegers being now in complete possession of the
house spread themselves over it from garret to cellar, and
plied their demon labors fiercely. While some small parties
kindled bonfires underneath the windows, others broke up the
furniture and cast the fragments down to feed the flames
below ; where the apertures in the wall (windows no longer)
were large enough, they threw out tables, chests of drawers,
beds, mirrors, pictures, and flung them whole into the fire ;
while every fresh addition to the blazing masses was received
with shouts, and howls, and yells, which added new and
dismal terrors to the conflagration. Those who haJ axes and
had spent their fury on the movables, chopped and tore down
the doors and window-frames, broke up the flooring, hewed

BARNABY BUDGE. 481

away the rafters, and buried men who lingered in the upper
rooms, in heaps of ruins. Some searched the drawers, the
chests, the boxes, writing-desks, and closets, for jewels, plate,
and money ; while others, less mindful of gain and more mad
for destruction, cast their whole contents into the court-yard
without examination, and called to those below, to, heap them
on the blaze. Men who had been into the cellars, and had
staved the casks, rushed to and fro stark mad, setting fire to
all they saw — often to the dresses of their own friends — and
kindling the building in so many parts that some had no time
for escape, and were seen, with drooping hands and blackened
faces, hanging senseless on the window-sills to which they had
crawled, until they were sucked and drawn into the burning
gulf. The more the fire crackled and raged, the wilder and
more cruel the men grew ; as though moving in that element
they became fiends, and changed their earthly nature for the
qualities that give delight in hell.

The burning pile, revealing rooms and passages red hot,
through gaps made in the crumbling walls : the tributary
fires that licked the outer bricks and stones, with their long
forked tongues, and ran up to meet the glowing mass within ;
the shining of the flames upon the villains who looked on and
fed them ; the roaring of the angry blaze, so bright and high
that it seemed in its rapacity to have swallowed up the very
smoke ; the living flakes the wind bore rapidly away and
hurried on with, like a storm of fiery snow; the noiseless
breaking of great beams of wood, which fell like feathers on
the heap of ashes, and crumbled in the very act to sparks and
powder; the lurid tinge that overspread the sky, and the
darkness, very deep by contrast, which prevailed around ; the
exposure to the coarse, common gaze, of every little nook
which usages of home had made a sacred place, and the
destruction by rude hands of every little household favorite
which old associations made a dear and precious thing : all
this taking place — not among pitying looks and friendly
murmurs of compassion, but brutal shouts and exultations,
which seemed to make the very rats who stood by the old
house too long, creatures with some claim upon the pity and
regard of those its roof had sheltered : — combined to form a

VOL. I.

482 BARNABY BUDGE.

scene never to be forgotten by those who saw it and were not
actors in the work, so long as life endured.

And who were they? The alarm-bell rang — and it was
pulled by no faint or hesitating hands — for a long time ; but
not a soul was seen. Some of the insurgents said that when
it ceased, they heard the shrieks of women, and saw some
garments fluttering in the air, as a party of men bore away
no unresisting burdens. No one could say that this was true
or false, in such an uproar ; but where was Hugh ? Who
among them had seen him, since the forcing of the doors ?
The cry spread through the body. Where was Hugh !

" Here I " he hoarsely cried, appearing from the darkness ;
out of breath, and blackened with the smoke. "We have
done all we can ; the fire is burning itself out ; and even the
corners where it hasn't spread, are nothing but heaps of ruins.
Disperse, my lads, while the coast's clear; get back by
different ways ; and meet as usual ! " With that, he dis-
appeared again, — contrary to his wont, for he was always
first to advance, and last to go away, — leaving them to follow
homewards as they would.

It was not an easy task to draw off such a throng. If
Bedlam gates had been flung open wide, there would not
have issued forth such maniacs as the frenzy of that night
had made. There were men there who danced and trampled
on the beds of flowers as though they trod down human
enemies, and wrenched them from the stalks, like savages
who twisted human necks. There were men who cast their
lighted torches in the air, and suffered them to fall upon
their heads and faces, blistering the skin with deep unseemly
burns. There were men who rushed up to the fire, and
paddled in it with their hands as if in water ; and others who
were restrained by force from plunging in, to gratify their
deadly longing. On the skull of one drunken lad — not
twenty, by his looks — who lay upon the ground with a bottle
to his mouth, the lead from the roof came streaming down in
a shower of liquid fire, white hot ; melting his head like wax.
When the scattered parties were collected, men — living yet,
but singed as with hot irons — were plucked out of the cellars,
and carried off upon the shoulders of others, who strove to

BARNABY BUDGE. 483

wake them as they went along, with ribakl jokes, and left
them, dead, in the passages of hospitals. But of all the
howling throng not one learned mercy from, or sickened at,
these sights ; nor was the fierce, besotted, senseless rage of
one man glutted.

Slowly, and in small clusters, with hoarse hurrahs and
repetitions of their usual cry, the assembly dropped away.
The last few red-eyed stragglers reeled after those who had
gone before ; the distant noise of men calling to each other,
and whistling for others whom they missed, grew fainter and
fainter ; at length even these sounds died away, and silence
reigned alone.

Silence indeed ! The glare of the flames had sunk into a
fitful flashing light ; and the gentle stars, invisible till now,
looked down upon tlie blackening heap. A dull smoke hung
upon the ruin, as though to hide it from those eyes of Heaven ;
and the wind forebore to move it. Bare walls, roof open to
the sky — chambers, where the beloved dead had, many and
many a fair day, risen to new life and energy ; where so
many dear ones had been sad and merry ; which were con-
nected with so many thoughts and hopes, regrets and changes
— all gone. Nothing left but a dull and dreary blank — a
smouldering heap of dust and ashes — tiie silence and solitude
of utter desolation.

484 BAENABY BUDGE.

CHAPTER LVL

The Maypole cronies, little dreaming of the change so soon
to come upon their favorite haunt, struck through the Forest
path upon their way to London ; and avoiding the main road,
which was hot and dusty, kept to the by-paths and the
fields. As they drew nearer to their destination, they began
to make inquiries of the people whom they passed, concerning
the riots, and the truth or falsehood of the stories they had
heard. The answers went far beyond any intelligence that
had spread to quiet Chigwell. One man told them that that
afternoon the Guards, conveying to Newgate some rioters who
had been re-examined, had been set upon by the mob and
compelled to retreat ; another, that the houses of two witnesses
near Clare Market were about to be pulled down when he
came away ; another, that Sir George Saville's house in
Leicester Fields was to be burned that night, and that it
would go hard with Sir George if he fell into the people's
hands, as it was he who had brought in the Catholic bill. All
accounts agreed that the mob were out, in stronger numbers
and more numerous parties than had yet appeared; that the
streets were unsafe ; that no man's house or life was worth an
hour's purchase ; that the public consternation was increasing
every moment ; and that many families had already fled the
city. One fellow who wore the popular color, damned them
for not having cockades in their hats, and bade them set a
good watch to-morrow night upon the prison doors, for the
locks would have a straining ; another asked if they were
fire-proof, that they walked abroad without the distinguishing
mark of all good and true men; and a third who rode on
horseback, and was quite alone, ordered them to throw, each
man a shilling, in his hat, towards the support of the rioters.
Although they were afraid to refuse compliance with this

BABNABY BUDGE. 485

demand, and were much alarmed by these reports, they
agreed, having come so far, to go forward and see the real
state of things with their own eyes. So they pushed on
quicker, as men do who are excited by portentous news ; and
ruminating on what they had heard, spoke little to each other.

It was now night, and as they came nearer to the city, they
had dismal confirmation of this intelligence in three great
fires, all close together, which burned fiercely and were gloomily
reflected in the sky. Arriving in the immediate suburbs,
they found that almost every house had chalked upon its door
in large characters " No Popery," that the shops were shut,
and that alarm and anxiety were depicted in every face they
passed.

Noting these things with a degree of apprehension which
neither of the three cared to impart, in its full extent, to his
companions, they came to a turnpike gate, which was shut.
They were passing through the turnstile on the path, when a
horseman rode up from London at a hard gallop, and called
to the toll-keeper in a voice of great agitation, to open quickly
in the name of God.

The adjuration was so earnest, and vehement, that the man,
with a lantern in his hand, came running out — toll-keeper
though he was — and was about to throw the gate open, when
happening to look behind him, he exclaimed, " Good Heaven,
what's that ! Another fire ! "

At this, the three turned their heads, and saw in the
distance — straight in the direction whence they had come —
a broad sheet of flame, casting a threatening liglit upon the
clouds, which glimmered as though the conflagration were
behind them, and showed like a wrathful sunset.

" ]\[y mind misgives me," said the horseman, ^' or I know
from what far building those flames come. Don't stand
aghast, my good fellow. Open the gate ! "

"Sir," cried the man, laying his hand upon his horse's
bridle as he let him through: "I know you now, sir; be
advised by me ; do not go on. I saw them pass, and know
what kind of men they are You will be murdered."

"So be it!" said the horseman, looking intently towards
the fire, and not at him wlio spoke.

486 BARNABY BUDGE.

"But sir — sir/' cried the man, grasping at his rein more
tightlj^ yet, " if you do go on, wear the blue riband. Here,
sir," he added, taking one from his own hat, " it's necessity,
not choice, that makes me wear it : it's love of life and home,
sir. Wear it for this one night, sir; only for this one night."

'' Do ! " cried the three friends, pressing round his horse.
'•' Mr. Haredale — worthy sir — good gentleman — pray be
persuaded."

" \Yho's that ? " cried Mr. Haredale, stooping down to
look " Did I hear Daisy's voice ? "

"You did, sir," cried the little man. "Do be persuaded,
sir. This gentleman says very true. Your life may hang
upon it."

" Are you," said Mr. Haredale abruptly, " afraid to come
with me ? "

"I, sir? — X-n-no."

"Put that riband in your hat. If we meet the rioters,
swear that I took you prisoner for wearing it. I will tell
them so with my own lips ; for as I hope for mercy when I
die, I will take no quarter from them, nor shall they have
quarter from me, if we come hand to hand to-night. Up
here — behind me — quick ! Clasp me tight round the body,
and fear nothing."

In an instant they were riding away, at full gallop, in a
dense cloud of dust, and speeding on, like hunters in a dream.

It was well the good horse knew the road he traversed, for
never once — no, never once in all the journey — did 'Mr.
Haredale cast his eyes upon the ground, or turn them, for an
instant, from the light towards which they sped so madly.
Once he said in a low voice " It is my house," but that was
the only time he spoke. When they came to dark and
doubtful places, he never forgot to put his hand upon the
little man to hold him more securely in his seat, but he
kept his head erect and his eyes fixed on the fire, then, and
always.

The road was dangerous enough, for they went the nearest
way — headlong — far from the highway — by lonely lanes
and paths, where wagon-wheels had worn deep ruts ; where
hedge and ditch hemmed in the narrow strip of ground; and

BABNABY BUDGE. 487

tall trees; arching overhead, made it profoundly dark. But
on, on, on, with neither stop nor stumble, till they reached
the Maypole door, and could plainly see that the fire began to
fade, as if for want of fuel.

"Down — for one moment — for but one moment," said
Mr. Haredale, helping Daisy to the ground, and following
himself. "Willet — AVillet — where are my niece and ser-
vants — Willet ! "

Crying to him distractedly, he rushed into the bar. — The
landlord bound and fastened to his chair; the place dis-
mantled, stripped, and pulled about his ears ; — nobody could
have taken shelter here.

He was a strong man, accustomed to restrain himself, and
suppress his strong emotions ; but this preparation for what
was to follow — though he had seen that fire burning, and
knew that his house must be razed to the ground — was more
than he could bear. He covered his face with his hands for a
moment, and turned away his head.

" Johnny, Johnny," said Solomon — and the simple-hearted
fellow cried outright, and wrung his hands — " Oh dear old
Johnny, here's a change ! That the Maypole bar should
come to this, and we should live to see it ! The old Warren
too, Johnny — Mr. Haredale — oh, Johnny, what a piteous
sight this is ! "

Pointing to Mr. Haredale as he said these words, little
Solomon Daisy put his elbows on the back of Mr. Willet's
chair, and fairly blubbered on his shoulder.

While Solomon was speaking, old John sat, mute as a
stock-fish, staring at him with an unearthly glare, and dis-
playing, by every possible sympton, entire and complete
unconsciousness. But when Solomon was silent again, John
followed, with his great round eyes, the direction of his
looks, and did appear to have some dawning distant notion
that somebody had come to see him.

"You know us, don't you, Johnny ? " said the little clerk,
rapping himself on the breast. " Daisy, you know — Chig-
well Church — bell-ringer — little desk on Sundays — eh,
Johnny ? "

Mr. Willet reflected for a few moments, and then muttered,

488 BABNABY BUDGE.

as it were mechanically : '' Let us sing to the praise and
glory of " —

" Yes, to be sure," cried the little man, hastily ; '" that's it
— that's me, Johnny. You're all right now, ain't you? Say
you're all right, Johnny."

" All riglit ? " pondered Mr. Willet, as if that were a
matter entirely between himself and his conscience. "All
riglit ? Ah ! "

"They haven't been misusing you with sticks, or pokers,
or any other blunt instruments, — have they, Johnny ? "
asked Solomon, with a very anxious glance at Mr. Willet's
head. " They didn't beat you, did they ? "

John knitted his brow ; looked downwards, as if he were
mentally engaged in some arithmetical calculation ; then
upwards, as if the total would not come at his call; then at
Solomon Daisy, from his eyebrow to his shoe-buckle; then
ver}^ slowly round the bar. And then a great, round, leaden-
looking, and not at all transparent tear, came rolling out of
each eye, and he said, as he shook his head, —

" If they'd only had the goodness to murder me, I'd have
th«,nked 'em kindly."

" No, no, no, don't say that, Johnny," whimpered his little
friend. "It's very, very bad, but not quite so bad as that.
No, no ! "

" Look'ee here, sir ! " cried John, turning his rueful eyes
on ]\[r. Haredale, who had dropped on one knee, and was
hastily beginning to untie his bonds. "Look'ee here, sir!
The very Maypole — the old dumb Maypole — stares in at
the winder, as if it said, ' John Willet, John Willet, let's go
and pitch ourselves in the nighest pool of water as is deep
enough to hold us ; for our day is over ! ' "

"' Don't, Johnny, don't," cried his friend : no less affected
by this mournful effort of Mr. Willet's imagination, than by
the sepulchral tone in which he had spoken for the INIaypole.
"Please don't, Johnny!"

"Your loss is great, and yonv misfortune a heavy one,"
said Mr. Haredale, looking restlessly towards the door : "and
this is not a time to comfort you. If it were, I am in no
condition to do so. Before I leave you, tell me one thing,

BARNABY BUDGE. 489

and try to tell me plainly, I implore you. Have you seeu or
heard of Emma ? "

" No ! " said Mr. Willet.

" Nor any one but these bloodhounds ? ''

"No!"

" They rode away, I trust in Heaven, before these dreadful
scenes began," said Mr. Haredale, who, between his agitation,
his eagerness to mount his horse again, and the dexterity
with which the cords were tied, had scarcely yet undone one
knot. "A knife, Daisy ! "

" You didn't," said John, looking about, as though he had
lost his pocket-handkerchief or some such slight article —
"either of you gentlemen — see a — a coffin anywheres, did
you ? "

" Willet ! " cried Mr. Haredale. Solomon dropped the
knife, and instantly becoming limp from head to foot, ex-
claimed, " Good gracious ! "

" — Because," said John, not at all regarding them, "a
dead man called a little time ago, on his way yonder. I
could have told you what name was on the plate, if he had
brought his coffin with him, and left it behind. If he didn't,
it don't signify."

His landlord, who had listened to these words with breath-
less attention, started that moment to his feet ; and, without a
word, drew Solomon Daisy to the door, mounted his horse,
took him up behind again, and flew rather than galloped
towards the pile of ruins, which that day's sun had shone
upon, a stately house. Mr. Willet stared after them, listened,
looked down upon himself to make quite sure that he was
still unbound, and, without any manifestation of impatience,
disappointment, or surprise, gently relapsed into the condition
from which he had so imperfectly recovered.

Mr. Haredale tied his horse to the trunk of a tree, and
grasping his companion's arm, stole softly along the footpath,
and into what liad been the garden of his liouse. He stopped
for an instant to look upon its smoking walls, and at the stars
that shone through roof and floor upon the heap of crumbling
ashes. Solomon glanced timidly in his face, but his lips were
tightly pressed together, a resolute and stern expression sat

490 BARXABY BUDGE.

upon his brow, and not a tear, a look, or gesture indicating
grief, escaped him.

He drew his sword : felt for a moment in his breast, as
though he carried other arms about him ; then grasping
Solomon hj the wrist again, went with a cautious step all
round the house. He looked into every doorway and gap in
the wall ; retraced his steps at every rustling of the air among
the leaves ; and searched in every shadowed nook with out-
stretched hands. Thus they made the circuit of the building :
but they returned to the spot from which they had set out,
without encountering any human being, or finding the least
trace of any concealed straggler.

After a short pause, Mr. Haredale shouted twice or thrice.
Then cried aloud, '• Is there any one in hiding here, who
knows my voice ! There is nothing to fear now. If any of
my people are here, I entreat them to answer ! " He called
them all by name ; his voice was echoed in many mournful
tones ; then all was silent as before.

They were standing near the foot of the turret, where the
alarm-bell hung. The fire had raged there, and the floors
had been sawn, and hewn, and beaten down, besides. It was
open to the night ; but a part of the staircase still remained,
winding upward from a great mound of dust and cinders.
Fragments of the jagged and broken steps offered an insecure
and gidd}' footing here and there, and then were lost again,
behind protruding angles of the wall, or in the deep shadows
cast upon it by other portions of the ruin ; for by this time
the moon had risen, and shone brightly.

As they stood here, listening to the echoes as they died
away, and hoping in vain to hear a voice they knew, some of
the ashes in this turret slipped and rolled down. Startled by
the least noise in that melancholy place, Solomon looked up
at his companion's face, and saw that he had turned towards
the spot, and that he watched and listened keenly.

He covered the little man's mouth with his hand, and
looked again. Instantly, with kindling eyes, he bade him on
his life keep still, and neither speak nor move. Then holding
his breath, and stooping down, he stole into the turret, with
his drawn sword in his hand, and disappeared.

BARNABY BUDGE. 491

Terrified to be left there by himself, under such desolate
circumstances, and after all he had seen and heard that night,
Solomon would have followed, but there had been something
in Mr. Haredale's manner and his IcTok, the recollection of
which held him spellbound. He stood rooted to the spat;
and scarcely venturing to breathe, looked up with mingled
fear and wonder.

Again the ashes slipped and rolled — very, very softly —
again — and then again, as though the}^ crumbled underneath
the tread of a stealthy foot. And now a figure was dimly
visible ; climbing very softly ; and often stopping to look
down ; now it pursued its difficult way ; and now it was
hidden from the view again.

It emerged once more, into the shadowy and uncertain
light — higher now, but not much, for the way was steep and
toilsome, and its progress very slow. AVhat phantom of the
brain did he pursue ; and why did he look down so con-
•stantly. He knew he was alone ? Surely his mind was not
affected by that night's loss and agony. He was not about to
throw himself headlong from the summit of the tottering
wall. Solomon turned sick, and clasped his hands. His
limbs trembled beneath him, and a cold sweat broke out upon
his pallid face.

If he complied with Mr. Haredale's last injunction now, it
was because he had not the power to speak or move. He
strained his gaze, and fixed it on a patch of moonlight, into
which, if he continued to ascend, he must soon emerge.
When he appeared there, he would try to call to him.

Again the ashes slipped and crumbled ; some stones rolled
down, and fell with a dull, heavy sound upon the ground
below. He kept his eyes upon the piece of moonlight. The
figure was coming on, for its shadow was already thrown
upon the wall. Now it appeared — and now looktnl round at
him — and now —

The horror-stricken clerk uttered a scream that pierced the
air, and cried '' The ghost ! The ghost ! "

Long before the echo of his cry had died away, another
form ruslied out into the light, flung itself upon the foremost
one, knelt down upon its breast, and clutched its throat with
both hands.

492 BARNABT RUDGE.

" Villain ! " cried Mr. Haredale, in a terrible voice — for it
was he. "Dead and buried, as all men supposed through
your infernal arts, but reserved by Heaven for this — at last —
at last — I have you. You, whose hands are red with my
brother's blood, and that of his faithful servant, shed to
conceal your own atrocious guilt — You, Eudge, double mur-
derer and monster, I arrest you in the name of God, who has
delivered you into my hands. Xo. Though you had the
strength of twenty men," he added, as the murderer writhed
and struggled, " you could not escape me, or loosen my grasp
to-night ! "

BARNABY RUDGE. 493

CHAPTER LVII.

Barnaby, armed as we have seen, continued to pace up and
down before the stable-door ; glad to be alone again, and
heartily rejoicing in the unaccustomed silence and tranquillity.
After the whirl of noise and riot in which the last two days
had been passed, the pleasures of solitude and peace were
enhanced a thousand-fold. He felt quite happy ; and as he
leaned upon his staff and mused, a bright smile overspread
his face, and none but cheerful visions floated into his brain.

Had he no thoughts of her, whose sole delight he was, and
whom he had unconsciously plunged in such bitter sorrow, and
such deep affliction ? Oh yes. She was at the heart of all his
cheerful hopes and proud reflections. It was she whom all
this honor and distinction were to gladden ; the joy and
profit were for her. What delight it' gave her to hear of the
bravery of her poor boy ! Ah ! He would have known that,
without Hugh's telling him. And what a precious thing it
was to know she lived so happily, and heard with so much
pride (he pictured to himself her look when they told her) that
he was in such high esteem : bold among the boldest, and
trusted before them all. And when these frays were over,
and the good lord had conquered his enemies, and they were
all at peace again, and he and she were rich, what happiness
they would have in talking of these troubled times when he
was a great soldier : and when they sat alone togetlier in the
tranquil twilight, and she had no longer reason to be anxious
for the morrow, wliat pleasure woukl ne have in the reflection
that this was his doing — his — poor foolish Karnaby's ; and
in patting her on the cheek, and saying with a merry laugh,
" Am I silly now, mother — am I silly now ? "

With a. lighter heart and step, and eyes the brighter for
the happy tear that dimmed them for a moment, r>arnaby

494 BARNABY BUDGE.

resumed his walk ; and singing gayly to himself, kept guard
upon his quiet post.

His comrade Grip, the partner of his watch, though fond of
basking in the snnshine, preferred to-day to walk about the
stable ; having a great deal to do in the way of scattering the
straw, hiding under it such small articles as had been casually
left about, and haunting Hugh's bed, to which he seemed to
have taken a particular attachment. Sometimes Barnaby
looked in and called him, and then he came hopping out ; but
he merely did this as a concession to his master's weakness,
and soon returned again to his own grave pursuits : peering
into the straw Avith his bill, and rapidly covering up the place,
as if, Midas-like, he were whispering secrets to the earth and
burying them ; constantly busying himself upon the sly ; and
affecting, whenever Barnaby came past, to look up in the
clouds and have nothing whatever on his mind : in short, con-
ducting himself, in many respects, in a more than usually
thoughtful, deep, and mysterious manner.

As the day crept on, Barnaby, who had no directions for-
bidding him to eat and drink upon his post, but had been, on
the contrary, supplied with a bottle of beer and a basket of
provisions, determined to break his fast, which he had not
done since morning. To this end, he sat down on the ground
before the door, and putting his staff across his knees in case
of alarm or surprise, summoned Grip to dinner.

This call, the bird obeyed with great alacrity ^ crying, as
he sidled up to his master, "I'm a devil, I'm a Polly, I'm a
kettle, I'm a Protestant, Xo Popery ! " Having learned this
latter sentiment from the gentry among whom he had lived
of late, he delivered it with uncommon emphasis.

"Well said. Grip!" cried his master, as he fed him with
the daintiest bits. " Well said, old boy ! "

"Xever say die, bow wow wow, keep up your spirits. Grip
Grip Grip, Holloa! We'll all have tea, I'm a Protestant
kettle, No Popery ! " cried the raven.

" Gordon forever, Grip ! " cried Barnaby.

The raven, placing his head upon the ground, looked at his
master sideways, as though he would have said, "Say that
again ! " Perfectly understanding his desire, Barnaby repeated

BABNABT BUDGE. 495

the phrase a great many times. The bird listened with pro-
found attention ; sometimes repeating the popular cry in a
low voice, as if to compare the two, and try if it would at all
help him to this new accomplishment ; sometimes flapping his
wings, or barking; and sometimes in a kind of desperation
drawing a multitude of corks, with extraordinary viciousness.

Barnaby was so intent upon his favorite, that he was not
at flrst aware of the approach of two persons on horseback,
who were riding at a footpace, and coming straight towards
his post. When he perceived them, however, which he did
when they were within some fifty yards of him, he jumped
hastily up, and ordering Grip within doors, stood with both
hands on his staff, waiting until he should know whether they
were friends or foes.

He had hardly done so, when he observed that those who
advanced were a gentleman and his servant; almost at the
same moment he recognized Lord George Gordon, before
whom he stood uncovered, with his eyes turned towards the
ground.

"Good day!" said Lord George, not reining in his horse
until he was close beside him. "Well!"

" All quiet, sir, all safe ! " cried Barnaby. " The rest are
away — they went by that path — that one. A grand party ! "

" Ay ? " said Lord George, looking thoughtfully at him.
" And you ? "

"Oh! They left me here to watch — to mount guard — to
keep everything secure till they come back. I'll do it, sir,
for your sake. You're a good gentleman ; a kind gentleman
— ay, you are. There are many against you, but we'll be a
match for them, never fear ! "

" What's that ? " said Lord George — pointing to the raven
who was peeping out of the stable-door — but still looking
thoughtfully, and in some perplexity, it seemed, at Barnaby.

"Why, don't you know ! " retorted Barnaby, with a wonder-
ing laugh. "Not know what he is! A bird, to be sure. My
bird — my friend — Grip."

"A devil, a kettle, a Grip, a Tolly, a Protestant, no
Popery ! " cried the raven.

"Though, indeed," added Barnaby, laying his liand upon

49G BARNABY BUDGE.

the ueck of Lord George's horse, and speaking softly : " you
had good reason to ask me what he is, for sometimes it puzzles

me and I am used to him — to think he's only a bird. He's

my brother, Grip is — always with me — always talking —
always merry — eh. Grip ? "

The raven answered by an affectionate croak, and hopping
on his master's arm, which he held downward for that pur-
pose, submitted with an air of perfect indifference to be
fondled, and turned his restless, curious eye, now upon Lord
George and now upon his man.

Lord George, biting his nails in a discomfited manner,
regarded Barnaby for some time in silence ; then beckoning
to his servant, said, —

" Come hither, John."

John Grueby touched his hat, and came.

" Have you ever seen this young man before ? " his master
asked, in a low voice.

"Twice, my lord," said John. "1 see him in the crowd
last night and Saturday."

" Did — did it seem to you that his manner was at all wild
or strange ? " Lord George demanded, faltering.

"Mad," said John, with emphatic brevity,

" And why do you think him mad, sir ? " said his master,
speaking in a peevish tone. " Don't use that word too freely.
Why do you think him mad ? "

"My lord," John Grueby answered, "look at his dress, look
at his eyes, look at his restless way, hear him cry, 'No
Popery ! ' Mad, my lord."

" So because one man dresses unlike another," returned his
angry master, glancing at himself, "and happens to differ
from other men in his carriage and manner, and to advocate a
great cause which the corrupt and irreligious desert, he is to
be accounted mad, is he ? "

"Stark, staring, raving, roaring mad, my lord," returned
the unmoved John.

" Do you say this to my face ? " cried his master, turning
sharply upon him.

" To any man, my lord, who asks me," answered John.

"Mr. Gashford, I find, was right," said Lord George; "I

BABNABT BUDGE. 497

thought him prejudiced, though I ought to have known a man
like him better than to have supposed it possible ! "

"I shall never have Mr. Gashford's good word, my lord,"
replied John, touching his hat respectfully, "and I don't
covet it."

"You are an ill-conditioned, most ungrateful fellow," said
Lord George : " a spy, for anything I know. Mr. Gashford
is perfectly correct, as I might liave felt convinced he was. I
have done wrong to retain you in my service. It is a tacit
insult to him as my choice and confidential friend to do so,
remembering the cause you sided with, on the day he was
maligned at Westminster. You will leave me to-night — nay,
as soon as we reach home. The sooner the better."

''If it comes to that, I say so too, my lord. Let Mr.
Gashford have his will. As to my being a spy, my lord, you
know me better than to believe it, I am sure, I don't know
much about causes. My cause is the cause of one man against
two hundred ; and I hope it always will be."

"You have said quite enough," returned Lord George,
motioning him to go back. " I desire to hear no more."

"If you'll let me add another word, my lord," returned
John Grueby, " I'd give this silly fellow a caution not to stay
here by himself. The proclamation is in a good many hands
already, and it's well known that he was concerned in the
business it relates to. He had better get to a place of safety
if he can, poor creature."

" You hear what this man says ? " cried Lord George,
addressing Barnaby, who had looked on and wondered while
this dialogue passed. "He thinks you may be afraid to
remain upon your post, and are kept here perhaps against
your will. What do you say ? "

"I think, young man," said John, in explanation, "that
tlie soldiers may turn out and take you ; and that if they do,
you will certainly be hung by the neck till you're dead — dead
— dead. And I think you'd better go from here, as fast as
you can. That's what / think."

"He's a coward. Grip, a coward!" cried IJarnaby, putting
the raven on the ground, and sliouldering his staff. "Let
them come ! Gordon forever ! Let them come ! "

VOJv. I.

498 BARNABY BUDGE.

'' Ay I '' said Lord George, " let them I Let us see who will
venture to attack a power like ours ; the solemn league of
a whole people. This a madman ! You have said well, very
well. I am proud to be the leader of such men as j^ou."

Barnaby's heart swelled within his bosom as he heard these
words. He took Lord George's hand and carried it to his
lips ; patted his horse's crest, as if the affection and admira-
tion he had conceived for the man extended to the animal he
rode ; then unfurled his flag, and proudly waving it, resumed
his pacing up and down.

Lord George, with a kindling eye and glowing cheek, took
off his hat, and flourishing it above his head, bade him
exultingly Farewell ! — then cantered off at a brisk pace ; after
glancing angrily round to see that his servant followed.
Honest John set spurs to his horse and rode after his master,
but not before he had again warned Barnaby to retreat, with
many significant gestures, which indeed he continued to
make, and Barnaby to resist, until the windings of the road
concealed them from each other's view.

Left to himself again with a still higher sense of the
importance of his post, and stimulated to enthusiasm by the
special notice and encouragement of his leader, Barnaby
walked to and fro in a delicious trance rather than as a
waking man. The sunshine which prevailed around was in
his mind. He had but one desire ungratified. If she could
only see him now.

The day wore on ; its heat was gently giving place to the
cool of evening ; a light wind sprung up, fanning his long
hair, and making the banner rustle pleasantly above his head.
There was a freedom and freshness in the sound and in the
time, which chimed exactly with his mood. He was happier
than ever.

He was leaning on his staff looking towards the declining
sun, and reflecting with a smile that he stood sentinel at that
moment over buried gold, when two or three figures appeared
in the distance, making towards the house at a rapid pace, and
motioning with their hands as though they urged its inmates
to retreat from some approaching dainger. As they drew
nearer, they became more earnest in their gestures ; and they

BABNABY BUDGE. 499

were no sooner within hearing, than the foremost among them
cried that the soldiers were coming up.

At these words Barnaby furled his flag, and tied it round
the pole. His heart beat high while he did so, but he had no
more fear or thought of retreating than the pole itself. The
friendly stragglers hurried past him, after giving him notice
of his danger, and quickly passed into the house, where the
utmost confusion immediately prevailed. As those within
hastily closed the windows and the doors, they urged him by
looks and signs to fly without loss of time, and called to him
many times to do so ; but he only shook his head indignantly
in answer, and stood the firmer on his post. Finding that he
was not to be persuaded, they took care of themselves ; and
leaving the place with only one old woman in it, speedily
withdrew.

As yet there had been no symptom of the news having any
better foundation than in the fears of those who brought it,
but The Boot had not been deserted five minutes, when there
appeared coming across the fields, a body of men who, it was
easy to see, by the glitter of their arms and ornaments in the
sun, and by their orderly and regular mode of advancing — for
they came on as one man — were soldiers. In a very little
time, Barnaby knew that they were a strong detachment of
the Foot Guards, having along with them two gentlemen in
private clothes, and a small party of Horse ; the latter brought
up the rear, and were not in number more than six or eight.

They advanced steadily ; neither quickening their pace as
they came nearer, nor raising any cry, nor showing the least
emotion or anxiety. Though this was a matter of course in
the case of regular troops, even to Barnaby there was some-
thing particularly impressive and disconcerting in it to one
accustomed to the noise and tumult of an undisciplined mob.
For all that, he stood his ground not a whit the less resolutely,
and looked on undismayed.

Presently, they marched into the yard, and halted. The
commanding oflicer despatched a messenger to the horsemen,
one of whom came riding back. Some words passed between
them, and they glanced at Barnaby ; who well remembered
the man he had unliorsed at Westminster, and saw him now

500 BARNABY BUDGE.

before his eyes. The man being speedily dismissed, saluted,
and rode back to his comrades, who were drawn up apart at a
short distance.

The officer then gave the word to prime and load. The
heavy ringing of the musket-stocks upon the ground, and the
sharp and rapid rattling of the ramrods in their barrels, were a
kind of relief to Barnaby, deadly though he knew the purport
of such sounds to be. When this was done, other commands
were given, and the soldiers instantaneously formed in single
file all round the house and stables ; completely encircling
them in every part, at a distance, perhaps, of some half-dozen
yards ; at least that seemed in Barnaby's eyes to be about
the space left between himself and those who confronted
him. The horsemen remained drawn up by themselves as
before.

The two gentlemen in private clothes who had kept aloof,
now rode forward, one on either side the officer. The procla-
mation having been produced and read by one of them, the
officer called on Barnaby to surrender.

He made no answer, but stepping within the door, before
which he had kept guard, held his pole crosswise to protect it.
In the midst of a profound silence,. he was again called upon
to yield.

Still he offered no reply. Indeed he had enough to do, to
run his eye backward and forward along the half-dozen men
who immediately fronted him, and settle hurriedly within
himself at which of them he would strike first, when they
pressed on him. He caught the eye of one in the centre, and
resolved to hew that fellow down, though he died for it.

Again there was a dead silence, and again the same voice
called upon him to deliver himself up.

Next moment he was back in the stable, dealing blows
about him like a madman. Two of the men lay stretched at
his feet : the one he had marked, dropped first — he had a
thought for that, even in the hot blood and hurry of the strug-
gle. Another blow — another. Down, mastered, wounded in
the breast b}^ a heavy blow from the but-end of a gun (he
saw the weapon in the act of falling) — breathless — and a
prisoner.

-|^^#: f

BABNABY BUDGE. 501

An exclamation of surprise from the officer recalled him, in
some degree, to himself. He looked round, Grip, after work-
ing in secret all the afternoon, and with redoubled vigor while
everybody's attention was distracted, had plucked away the
straw from Hugh's bed, and turned up the loose ground with
his iron bill. The hole had been recklessly filled to the brim,
and was merely sprinkled with earth. Golden cups, spoons,
candlesticks coined guineas — all the riches were revealed.

They brought spades and a sack ; dug up everything that
was hidden there ; and carried away more than two men could
lift. They handcuffed him and bound his arms, searched him,
and took away all he had. Xobody questioned or reproached
him, or seemed to have much curiosity about him. The two
men he had stunned were carried off by their companions
in the same business-like way in which everything else was
done. Finally, he was left under a guard of four soldiers
with lixed bayonets, while the officer directed in person
the' search of the house and the other buildings connected
with it.

This was soon completed. The soldiers formed again in the
yard ; he was marched out with his guard about him ; and
ordered to fall in where a space was left. The others closed
up all round, and so they moved away, with the prisoner in
the centre.

When they came into the streets, he felt he was a sight ;
and looking up as they passed quickly along, could see people
running to the windows a little too late, and throwing up the
sashes to look after him. Sometimes he met a staring face
beyond the heads above him, or under the arms of his con-
ductors, or peering down upon him from a wagon top or coach
box; but this Avas all he saw, being surrounded by so many
men. The very noises of the streets seemed muffled and sub-
dued ; and the air came stale and hot upon him, like the sickly
breath of an oven.

Tramp, tramp. Tramp, tramp. Heads erect, shoulders
square, every man stepping in exact time — all so orderly and
regular — nobody looking at liim — nobody seeming conscious
of his presence, — he could hardly believe he was a Prisoner.
But at the word, though only tliought, not spoken, he felt the

502 BAENABY BUDGE.

handcuffs galling his wrists, the cord pressing his arms to his
sides : the loaded guns levelled at his head ; and those cold,
bright, sharp, shining points turned towards him : the mere
looking down at which, now that he was bound and helpless,
made the warm current of his life run cold.

BAIiNABY BUDGE. 503

CHAPTER LVIII.

They were not long in reaching the barracks, for the officer
who commanded the party was desirous to avoid rousing the
people by the display of military force in the streets, and was
humanely anxious to give as little opportunity as possible for
any attempt at rescue ; knowing that it must lead to blood-
shed and loss of life, and that if the civil authorities by whom
he was accompanied, empowered him to order his men to fire,
many innocent persons would probably fall, whom curiosity
or idleness had attracted to the spot. He therefore led the
party briskly on, avoiding with a merciful prudence the more
public and crowded thoroughfares, and pursuing those which
he deemed least likely to be infested by disorderly persons.
This wise proceeding not only enabled them to gain their
quarters without any interruption, but completely baffled a
body of rioters who had assembled in one of the main streets,
through which it was considered certain they would pass, and
who remained gathered together for the purpose of releasing
the prisoner from their hands, long after they had deposited
him in a place of security, closed the barrack gates, and set a
double guard at every entrance for its better protection.

Arrived at this place, poor Barnaby was marched into a
stone-floored room, where there was a very powerful smell of
tobacco, a strong thorough draught of air, and a great wooden
bedstead, large enough for a score of men. Several soldiers
in undress were lounging about, or eating from tin cans ;
military accoutrements dangled on rows of pegs .along the
whitewashed wall ; and some half-dozen men lay fast asleep
upon their backs, snoring in concert. After remaining here
just long enough to note these things, he was marched out
again, and conveyed across the parade-ground to another ])C)r-
tion of the building.

504 BAIiNABY BUDGE.

Perhaps a man never sees so much at a ghmce as when he
is in a situation of extremity. The chances are a hundred to
one, that if Barnaby had lounged in at the gate to look about
him, he would have lounged out again with a very imperfect
idea of the place, and would have remembered very little
about it. But as he was taken handcuffed across the gravelled
area, nothing escaped his notice. The dry, arid look of the
dusty square, and of the bare brick building ; the clothes
hanging at some of the windows ; and the men in their shirt-
sleeves and braces, lolling with half their bodies out of the
others ; the green sun-blinds at the officers' quarters, and the
little scanty trees in front ; the drummer-boys practising in a
distant courtyard ; the men on drill on the parade ; the two
soldiers carrying a basket between them, who winked to each
other as he went by, and slyly pointed to their throats ; the
spruce Sergeant who hurried past with a cane in his hand,
and under his arm a clasped book with a vellum cover ; the
fellows in the ground-floor rooms, furbushing and brushing up
their different articles of dress, who stopped to look at him,
and whose voices as they spoke together echoed loudly
through the empty galleries and passages ; — everything, down
to the stand of muskets before the guard-house, and the drum
with a pipe-clayed belt attached, in one corner, impressed
itself upon his observation, as though he had noticed them in
the same place a hundred times, or had been a whole day
among them, in place of one brief hurried minute.

He was taken into a small paved back yard, and there they
opened a great door, plated with iron, and pierced some five
feet above the ground with a few holes to let in air and light.
Into this dungeon he was walked straightway ; and having
locked him up there, and placed a sentry over him, they left
him to his meditations.

The cell, or black hole, for it had those words painted on
the door, was very dark, and having recently accommodated a
drunken deserter, by no means clean. Barnaby felt his way
to some straw at the farther end, and looking towards the
door, tried to accustom himself to the gloom, which, com-
ing from the bright sunshine out of doors, was not an easy
task.

BAHNABT BUDGE. 505

There was a kind of portico or colonnade outside, and this
obstructed even the little light that at the best could have
found its way through the small apertures in the door. The
footsteps of the sentinel echoed monotonously as he paced its
stone pavement to and fro (reminding Barnaby of the watch
he had so lately kept himself) ; and as he passed and repassed
the door, he made the cell for an instant so black by the inter-
position of his body, that his going away again seemed like
the appearance of a new ray of light, and was quite a circum-
stance to look for.

When the prisoner had sat some time upon the ground,
gazing at the chinks, and listening to the advancing and
receding footsteps of his guard, the man stood still upon his
post. Barnaby, quite unable to think, or to speculate on what
would be done with him, had been lulled into a kind of
doze by his regular pace ; but his stopping roused him ; and
then he became aware that two men were in conversation
under the colonnade, and very near the door of his cell.

How long they had been talking there, he could not tell,
for he had fallen into an unconsciousness of his real position,
and when the footsteps ceased, was answering aloud some
question which seemed to have been put to him by Hugh in
the stable, though of the fancied purport, either of question
or reply, notwithstanding that he awoke with the latter on
his lips he had no recollection whatever. The first words that
reached his ears, were these, —

" Why is he brought here then, if he has to be taken away
again, so soon ? "

" Why where would 3-ou have him go ! Damme, he's not as
safe anywhere as among the king's troops, is he ? What
tvould you do with him ? Would you hand him over to a
pack of cowardly civilians, that shake in their shoes till they
wear the soles out, with trembling at the threats of the raga-
muffins he belongs to ? "

" That's true enough."

"True enough! — I'll tell you what. I wish, Tom Green,
that I was a commissioned instead of a non-commissioned
officer, and that I had the command of two companies — only
two companies — of my own regiment. Call me out to stop

506 BARN A BY RUDGE.

these riots — give me the needful authority, and half a dozen
rounds of ball cartridge " —

"Ay!" said the other voice, "That's all very well, but
they won't give the needful authority. If the magistrate
won't give the word, what's the officer to do ? "

oSTot very well knowing, as it seemed, how to overcome this
difficulty, the other man contented himself with damning the
magistrates.

" With all my heart," said his friend.

"Where's the use of a magistrate?" returned the other
voice. "What's a magistrate in this case, but an impertinent,
unnecessary, unconstitutional sort of interference ? Here's a
proclamation. Here's a man referred to in that proclama-
tion. Here's proof against him, and a witness on the spot.
Damme ! Take him out and shoot him, sir. Who wants a
magistrate ? "

" When does he go before Sir John Fielding ? " asked the
man who had spoken first.

"' To-night at eight o'clock," returned the other. " Mark
what follows. The magistrate commits him to Kewgate.
Our people take him to Newgate. The rioters pelt our peo-
ple. Our people retire before the rioters. Stones are thrown,
insults are offered, not a shot's fired. Why ? Because of the
magistrates. Damn the magistrates ! "

When he had in some degree relieved his mind by cursing
the magistrates in various other forms of speech, the man was
silent, save for a low growling, still having reference to those
authorities, which from time to time escaped him.

Barnaby, Avho had wit enough to know that this conversa-
tion concerned, and very nearly concerned, himself, remained
perfectly quiet until they ceased to speak, when he groped
his way to the door, and peeping through the air-holes, tried
to make out what kind of men they were, to whom he had
been listening.

The one who condemned the civil power in such strong
terms, was a sergeant — engaged just then, as the streaming
ribbons in his cap announced, on the recruiting service. He
stood leaning sideways against a pillar nearly opposite the
door, and as he growled to himself, drew figures on the

BARNABY BUDGE. 507

pavement with his caiie. The other man had his back
towards the dungeon, and Barnaby could only see his form.
To judge from that he was a gallant, manly, handsome
fellow, but he had lost his left arm. It had been taken oft'
between the elbow and the shoulder, and his empty coat
sleeve hung across his breast.

It was probably this circumstance which gave him an
interest beyond any that his companion could boast of, and
attracted Barnaby's attention. There was something soldierly
in his bearing, and he wore a jaunty cap and jacket. Perhaps
he had been in the service at one time or other. If he had,
it could not have been very long ago, for he was but a young
fellow now.

"Well, well," he said thoughtfully; "let the fault be
where it may, it makes a man sorrowful to come back to old
England, and see her in this condition."

" I suppose the pigs will join 'em next," said the sergeant,
with an imprecation on the rioters, "now that the birds have
set 'em the example."

" The birds ! " repeated Tom Green.

"Ah — birds," said the sergeant testily; "that's English,
ain't it ? "

"I don't know what you mean."

" Go to the guard-house, and see. You'll find a bird there,
that's got their cry as pat as any of 'em, and bawls 'No
Popery,' like a man — or like a devil, as he says he is. I
shouldn't wonder. The devil's loose in London somewhere.
Damme if I wouldn't twist his neck round, on the chance, if
I had vi7/ way."

The young man had taken two or three steps away, as if to
go and see this creature, when he was arrested by the voice
of Barnaby.

" It's mine," he called out, half laughing and half weeping
— "my pet, my friend Grip. Ha ha ha! Don't hurt him, he
has done no harm. I taught him; it's my fault. Let me
have him, if you please. He's the only friend I have left
now. He'll not dance, or talk, or whistle for you, I know ;
but he will for me, because he knows me, and loves me —
though you wouldn't think it — very well. You wouldn't

508 BARXABY BUDGE.

hurt a bird, I'm sure. You're a brave soldier, sir, and
wouldn't harm a woman or a child — no, no, nor a poor bird,
I'm certain."

This latter adjuration was addressed to the sergeant, whom
Barnaby judged from his red coat to be high in office, and
able to seal Grip's destiny by a word. But that gentleman,
in reply, surlily damned him for a thief and rebel as he was,
and with many disinterested imprecations on his own eyes,
liver, blood, and body, assured him that if it rested with him
to decide, he would put a final stopper on the bird, and his
master too.

'' You talk boldly to a caged man," said Barnaby, in anger.
"If I was on the other side of the door and there w^ere none
to part us, you'd change your note — ay, you may toss your
head — you would! Kill the bird — do. Kill anything you
can, and so revenge yourself on those who with their bare
hands untied could do as much to you ! "

Having vented his defiance, he flung himself into the fur-
thest corner of his prison, and muttering, " Good-by, Grip —
good-by, dear old Grip ! " shed tears for the first time since
he had been taken captive ; and hid his face in the straw.

He had had some fancy at first, that the one-armed man
would help him, or would give him a kind word in answer.
He hardly knew why, but he hoped and thought so. The
young fellow had stopped when he called out, and checking
himself in the very act of turning round, stood listening to
every word he said. Perhaps he built his feeble trust on
this ; perhaps on his being young, and having a frank and
honest manner. However that might be, he built on sand.
The other went away directly he had finished speaking,
and neither answered him, nor returned. Xo matter. They
were all against him here ; he might have known as much.
Good-by, old Grip, good-by !

After some time, they came and unlocked tlie door, and
called to him to come out. He rose directly, and complied,
for he would not have them think he was subdued or fright-
ened. He walked out like a man, and looked from face to
face.

None of them returned his gaze or seemed to notice it.

BARNABY AND GRIP IN PRISON.

liATiXAIiY nvi)(;K. 509

They marched him back to the parade by the way they had
brought him, and there they halted, among a body of sokliers,
at least twice as numerous as that which had taken him
prisoner in the afternoon. The officer he had seen before,
bade him in a few brief words take notice that if he attempted
to escape, no matter how favorable a chance he might suppose
he had, certain of the men had orders to fire upon him, that
moment. They then closed round him as before, and marched
him off again.

In the same unbroken order they arrived at Kow Street,
followed and beset on all sides by a crowd which was contin-
ually increasing. Here he was placed before a blind gentle-
man and asked if he wished to say anything. Not he. What
had he got to tell them ? After a very little talking, which
he was careless of and quite indifferent to, they told him he
was to go to Newgate, and took him away.

He went out into the street, so surrounded and hemmed in
on every side by soldiers, that he could see nothing: but he
knew there was a great crowd of people, by the murmur; and
that they were not friendly to the soldiers, was soon rendered
evident by their yells and hisses. How often and how eagerly
he listened for the voice of Hugh ! No. There was not a
voice he knew among them all. Was Hugh a prisoner too ?
Was there no hope !

As they came nearer and nearer to the prison, the hootings
of the people grew more violent ; stones were thrown ; and
every now and then, a rush was made against the soldiers,
winch they staggered under. One of them, close before him,
smarting under a blow upon the temple, levelled his musket,
but the officer struck it upwards with his sword, and ordered
him on peril of his life to desist. This was the last thing he
saw with any distinctness, for directly afterwards he was
tossed about, and beaten to and fro, as though in a tem])est-
uous sea. But go where lie would, there were the same guards
about him. Twice or tlirice he was thrown down, and so
were they ; but even then, lie could not elude their vigilance
for a moment. They were up again, and had closed al)()ut
him, before he, with his wrists so tightly bound, could scram-
ble to his feet. Fenced in thus, he felt himself hoisted to

510 liABXABY JiUDGE.

the top of a low flight of steps, and then for a moment he
caught a glimpse of the fighting in the crowd, and of a few
red coats sprinkled together, here and there, struggling to
rejoin their fellows. Next moment, everything was dark
and gloomy, and he was standing in the prison lobby ; the
centre of a group of men.

A smith was speedily in attendance, who riveted upon him
a set of heavy irons. Stumbling on as well as he could,
beneath the unusual burden of these fetters, he was conducted
to a strong stone cell, where, fastening the door with locks,
and bolts, and chains, they left him, well secured; having
first, unseen by him, thrust in Grip, who, with his head
drooping and his deep black plumes rough and rumpled,
appeared to comprehend and to partake, his master's fallen
fortunes.

THE END OF VOL. L

I

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