 Chapter thirty-one of Barnaby Rudge. Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens, Chapter thirty-one. Pondering on his unhappy 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 people hurrying in and out of rooms, resounding from time to time through the great passages and penetrating to his remote seclusion, gave note of unusual commotion downstairs, no nearer sound disturbed his place of retreat, which seemed 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 indial 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 in 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 false 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 had ceased, and out of doors all was quiet, for the occasional 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 brought awake again in very uncomfortable and cold and haggard he looked in the dull gray light of morning. The sun had begun to peep above the forest trees, and already flung across the curling mist bright bars of gold. And 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 very difficult task, for there were so many projections and gable ends in the way that they formed a series of clumsy steps with no greater obstacle than a jump of some few feet at last. Joe with his stick and bundle on his shoulder quickly stood on the firm earth and looked up at the old maypole. It might be for the last time. He didn't apostrophize it, for he was no great scholar. He didn't curse it, for he had little ill will to give to anything on earth. He felt more 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 and 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 center, pushed on vigorously until the noise of London sounded in his ears and the black lion hove in sight. It was only eight o'clock then, and very much astonished the black lion was to see him come walking in with dust upon his feet at that early hour, with no grey 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 indisputable tokens of a hearty appetite, the lion received him 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. Willet's extreme sagacity and acuteness were the efforts of unassisted nature, the lion stood indebted in no small amount to bear, of which he swigged such copious drafts 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 feeble lion, and as these social representatives of a savage class are usually of a conventional character, being depicted for the most part in impossible attitudes and of unearthly colors. He was frequently supposed by the more ignorant and uninformed among the neighbors to be the veritable portrait of the host as he appeared on the occasion of some great funeral ceremony or public mourning. What noisy fellow is that in the next room? said Joe, when he had disposed of his breakfast and had washed and brushed himself. Our recruiting sergeant, replied the lion. Joe started involuntarily. Here was the very thing he had been dreaming of all the way along. And I wish, said the lion, he was anywhere else but here. The party make noise enough but don't call for much. There is great cry there, Mr. Willet, but very little wool. Your father wouldn't like him, I know. Perhaps not much under any circumstances. Perhaps if he could have known what was passing at that moment in Joe's mind, he would have liked them still less. Is he recruiting for a 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 wanted, 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 III loves you. Your memory is honored, revered, respected. Everybody is fond of you and grateful to you. Your names wrote down at full length in a book in the war office. Dammy 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 had gathered together in the tap room and were listening with greedy ears. One of them, a Carter and a smockfrock, 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. I say nothing, boys, said the sergeant, who sat a little apart drinking his liquor, for lads of spirit. Here he cast an eye on Joe. This is the time. I don't want to inveigle you. The king's not come to that, I hope. Brisk young blood is what we want, not milk and water. We won't take five men out of six. We want top-soyers, we do. I'm not going to tell tales out of school, but Dammy, if every gentleman's son that carries arms in our core, 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 gentleman by G, was his first remark, as he slapped him on the back. You're a gentleman in disguise. So am I. Let's swear a friendship. Joe didn't exactly do that, but he shook hands with him and thanked him for his good opinion. You want to serve, said his new friend. You shall. You were made for it. You're one of us by nature. What'll you take to drink? Nothing just now, replied Joe, smiling faintly, I haven't quite made up my mind. A meddlesome fellow like you and not made up his mind, cried the sergeant. Here, let me give the bell a pull, and you'll make up your mind in half a minute, I know. You're right so far, answered Joe, for if you pull the bell here, where I'm known, there'll be an end of my soldiering inclinations in no time. Look in my face. You see me, do you? I do, replied the sergeant with an oath, and a finer young fellow or one better qualified to serve his king and country I never set my—he used an adjective in this place. Eyes on. Thank you, said Joe. I didn't ask you for want of a compliment, but thank you all the same. Do I look like a sneaking fellow or a liar? The sergeant rejoined with many choice as severations 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. I believe I shall enlist in your regiment tonight. The reason I don't do so now is because I don't want, until tonight, to do what I can't recall. Where shall I find you this evening? His friend replied with some unwillingness, and after much ineffectual entreaty having for its object the immediate settlement of the business, that his quarters would be at the crooked billet in Tower Street, where he would be found waking until midnight and sleeping until breakfast time tomorrow. And if I do come, which it's a million to one, I shall, when will you take me out of London, demanded Joe? Tomorrow 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. Touch, 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, goodbye. 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 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 waylayed him at the door with many protestations of eternal friendship, and did in particular request that he would do him the favor to accept of only one shilling as a temporary accommodation. Rejecting his offers both of cash and credit, Joe walked away with stick and bundle as before, bent upon getting through the day as he best could, and going down to the locksmiths in the dusk of the evening. For it should go hard, he had resolved, but he would have a parting word with charming Dollyvarden. He went out by Islington and so on to Highgate and sat on many stones and gates, but there were no voices in the bells to bid him turn. Since the time of noble Whittington, fair flower of merchants, bells have come to have less sympathy with humankind. They only ring for money and on state occasions. Wanderers have increased in number. Ships leave the Thames for distant regions, carrying from stem to stern no other cargo. The bells are silent. They ring out no entreaties or regrets. They are used to it and have grown worldly. Joe bought a roll and reduced his purse to the condition, with a difference, of that celebrated purse of Fortunatis, which, whatever were its favored owners' 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 contain is expressed in arithmetic by a circle, and whether it be added to or multiplied by its own amount, the result of the problem is more easily stated than any known in figures. Evening drew on at last. With the desolate and solitary feeling of one who had no home or shelter, and was alone utterly in the world for the first time, he bent his steps towards Locke Smith's house. He had delayed till now, knowing that Mrs. Varden sometimes went out alone, or with nigs for her sole attendant, to lectures in the evening, and devoutly hoping that this might be one of her knights of moral culture. He had walked up and down before the house on the opposite side of the way two or three times, when, as he returned to it again, he caught a glimpse of a fluttering skirt at the door. It was Dolly's, to whom else could it belong. No dress but hers had such a flow as that. He plucked up his spirits and followed it into the workshop of the Golden Key. His darkening the door caused her to look round. Oh, that face! If it hadn't been for that, thought Joe, I should never have walked into poor Tom Cobb. She's twenty times handsomer than ever. She might marry a lord. He didn't say this, he only thought it. 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-bye. To say good-bye, 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 pleasure, when that gallant coach-maker had vowed, but the night before, that Miss Varden held him bound in adamantine chains, and had positively stated in so many words that she was killing him by inches, and that in a fortnight more or thereabouts he expected to make a decent end and leave the business to his mother. Dolly released her hand and said, Indeed. She remarked in the same breath that it was a fine night, and in short betrayed no more emotion than the forge itself. I couldn't go, said Joe, without coming to see you. I hadn't the heart to. Dolly was more sorry than she could tell that he should have taken so much trouble. There was such a long way, and he must have such a deal to do. And how was, Mr. Willet, that dear old gentleman? Is this all you say? cried Joe. All? Good gracious! What does a 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 its face. Not because his gaze confused her, not at all. Joe had small experience in love affairs and had no notion how different young ladies are at different times. He had expected to take Dolly up again at the very point where he had left her after that 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, was an indistinct idea that she would certainly say, Don't go, or Don't leave us, or Why do you go, or Why do you leave us, or would give him some little encouragement of that sort. He had even entertained the possibility of her bursting into tears, of her throwing herself into his arms, of her falling down in a fainting fit without previous word of 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 meanwhile 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, Goodbye. Goodbye, said Dolly, with his pleasantest smile as if he were going into the next street and were coming back to supper. Goodbye. Come, said Joe, putting out both hands, Dolly, dear Dolly, don't let us part like this. I love you dearly, with all my heart and soul, with as much truth and earnestness as ever man-loved woman in this world, I do believe. I am a poor fellow, as you know, poorer now than ever, 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 often happy, and may you ever be so. Heaven forbid I should ever make you otherwise, but give me a word of comfort, say something kind to me. I have no right to expect it of you, I know, but I ask you 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 away 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 Adavantean chains, he couldn't. I have said good-bye, said Dolly, twice. Take your arm away directly, Mr. Joseph, or I'll call Migs. 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. Everyone must who has seen the life I have led, you most of all. God bless you. He was gone, actually gone. He 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 upstairs 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 Willard 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 had wept for it afterwards with the very same distress. She had no sooner left the workshop than their cautiously peered out from behind the chimney of the forge, a face which had already emerged from the same concealment, twice her 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. Tapetit stood confessed, and the brown paper cap stuck negligently on one side of its head and its arms very much a Kimbo. Have my ears deceived me, said the Prentice, or do I dream? Am I to thank thee, Fortin, or to cuss thee, which? He gravely descended from his elevation, took down his piece of looking-glass, planted it against the wall upon the usual bench, twisted his head round, and looked closely at his legs. If there a dream, said Sim, that sculptures have such visions, and chisel them out when they wait, this is reality, sleep has no such limbs as them, tremble, will it, and despair, she's mine, she's mine. With these triumphant expressions he seized a hammer and dealt a heavy blow at a vice, which, in his mind's eye, represented the sconce or head of Joseph Willet. That done he burst into a peel of laughter which startled Miss Mig's 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 downhearted, but full of courage, too, on leaving the locksmith's house made the best of his way to the crooked billet, and there inquired for his friend the sergeant, who, expecting no man less, received him with open arms. In the course of five minutes after his arrival at that house of entertainment he was enrolled among the gallant defenders of his native land, and within half an hour was regaled with a steaming supper of boiled, tripe, and onions, prepared, as his friend assured him, more than once, at the express command of his most sacred majesty the king. To this meal, which tasted very savory after his long fasting, he did ample justice, and when he had followed it up or down with a variety of loyal and patriotic toasts, he was conducted to a straw mattress in a loft over the stable and locked in there for the night. The next morning he found that the obliging care of his marshal friend had decorated his hat with sundry party-colored streamers, which made a very lively appearance, and in company with that officer and three other military gentlemen newly enrolled, who were under a cloud so dense that it only left three shoes, a boot and a coat and a half visible among them, repaired to the riverside. 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, where they were to proceed on foot to Chatham. The wind was in their favor, and they soon left London behind them, a mere dark mist, a giant stantom in the air. As fortunes sayeth 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 whites, 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 souls of their feet than if they had no existence. It may have happened that a flight of troubles brooding over London, and looking out for Joseph Willet, whom they couldn't find, darted down haphazard 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 before eight o'clock, when he and his father, having wine and dessert set before them, were left to themselves for the first time that day. They had dined together, but a third person had been present during the meal, and until they met at table they had not seen each other since the previous night. Edward was reserved and silent. Mr. Chester was more than usually gay, but not caring, as it seemed, to open a conversation with one whose humor was so different. He vented the lightness of his spirit in smiles and sparkling looks, and made no effort to awaken his attention. So they remained for some time. The father lying on a sofa with his accustomed air of graceful negligence. The son seated opposite to him with downcast eyes, busied it was plain, with painful and uneasy thoughts. My dear Edward, said Mr. Chester at length, with the most engaging laugh, do not extend your drowsy influence 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 and 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. You should try it, Ned. Ah, Father, cried his son, if my good fellow interposed the parent hastily as he sat 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 checked me in the outset. Now, do, Ned, do not, said Mr. Chester, raising his delicate hand imploringly, talking that monstrous manner, about to speak from your heart. Don't you know that the heart is an ingenious part of our formation, the center of the blood vessels, and all that sort of thing, which has no more to do with what you say or think than your knees have? How can you be so very vulgar and absurd? These anatomical illusions should be left to gentlemen of the medical profession. They are really not agreeable in society. You quite surprised 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 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-hearted or having no heart, pa! These things are nonsense, Ned. No doubt, sir, returned his son, seeing that he paused for him to speak, no doubt. There's Hairedale'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 Redding, 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 nutcrackers? 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 has 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 unbiased will has led her to this course, never. You make me blush, returned his father gaily, for the folly of your nature, in which, but we never know ourselves, I devoutly hope there was no reflection of my own. With regard to the young lady herself, she has done what is very natural and proper, my dear fellow, what you yourself proposed, as I learned from Hairedale, 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, to find you poor. Marriage is a civil contract, people marry to better their worldly condition and improve appearances. It is an affair of house and furniture, of liveries, servants, equipage, and so forth. The lady being poor and you poor also, there is an end of the matter. You cannot enter upon these considerations, and have no manner of business with the ceremony. I drink her health in this glass, and respect and honor her for her extreme good sense. It is a lesson to you. Fill yours, Ned. It is a lesson, returned his son, by which I hope I may never profit, and if years and 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, have and 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 interests, your duty, your moral obligations, your filial affections, and all that sort of thing, which it is so very delightful and charming to reflect upon, or you will repent it. I shall never repent the preservation of my self-respect, sir, said Edward. Forgive me if I say that I will not sacrifice it at your bidding, and that I will not pursue the track which you would have me take, and to which the secret share you have had in this late separation tends. His father rose a little higher still, and looking at him, as though curious to know if he were quite resolved and earnest, dropped gently down again, and said, in the calmest voice, eating his nuts meanwhile, Edward, my father, had a son, who, being a fool like you, and like you, entertaining low and disobedient sentiments, he disinherited and cursed one morning after breakfast. The circumstance occurs to me with a singular clearness of recollection this evening. I remember eating muffins at the time, with marmalade. He led a miserable life, the son, I mean, and died early. It was a happy release on all accounts. He degraded the family very much. It is a sad circumstance, Edward, when a father finds it necessary to resort to such strong 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 disobey. Dear father, he added, more earnestly, though in a gentler tone, I have reflected many times on what occurred between us when we first discussed this subject. Let there be a confidence between us, not in terms but truth. Here would 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, you must take it, and my curse with it. I am very sorry, but there's really no alternative. The curse may pass your lips, said Edward, but it will be but empty breath. I do not believe that any man on earth has greater power to call one down upon his fellow, least of all upon his own child, than he has to make one drop of rain or flake of snow fall from the clouds above us at his impious bidding. Beware, sir, what you do. 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 continue to go on upon such terms as these. If you 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 the servant on his entrance. Peake, if that gentleman who has just gone out— I beg your pardon, sir, Mr. Edward. Were there more than one, dolt, that you ask the question? If that gentleman should send here for his wardrobe, let him have it. Do you hear? If he should call himself at any time, I'm not at home. You'll tell him so, and shut the door. So it soon got whispered about that Mr. Chester was very unfortunate in his son, who had occasioned him great grief and sorrow, and the good people who heard this, and told it again, marveled 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, concerning which this narrative is silent. One wintry evening, early in the year of our Lord, 1780, 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. Signboards, 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 waterside had its group of uncoothed 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 upstairs, yet loved to hear the wind moan, too, and hoped it would continue bravely. From time to time these happy indoor people stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried, Hark! and then, above the rumbling in the chimney and the fast pattering on the glass, was heard a wailing rushing sound, which shook the walls as though a giant's hand were on them, then a hoarse roar as if the sea had risen, then such a whirl and tumult that the air seemed mad, and then, with a lengthened howl, the waves of wind swept on and left a moment's interval of rest. Cheerily, though there were none abroad to see it, shone the maypole light that evening. Blessings on the red, deep ruby glowing red old curtain of the window, blending into one rich stream of brightness, fire and candle, meat, drink, and company, and gleaming like a jovial eye upon the bleak waste out of doors. Within, what carpet, like its 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 sterly 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 conflict? 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 wainscotting, the beams, the chairs, the seats reflected it in a deep dull glimmer. There were fires and red curtains in the very eyes of the drinkers, in their buttons, in their liquor, in the pipes they smoked. Mr. Willet sat in what had been his accustomed place five years before with his eyes on the eternal boiler, and had sat there since the clock struck eight, giving no other signs of life than breathing with a loud and constant snore, though he was wide awake, and from time to time putting his glass to his lips, or knocking the ashes out of his pipe and filling it anew. It was now half past ten, Mr. Cobb and Longfill Parks 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 Willet, Mr. Parks 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. Parks in a whisper. Fast as a top, said Mr. Cobb. Neither of them said any more until Mr. Willet came to another knot, one of surpassing obduracy, which bades there to throw him into convulsions, but which he got over at last without waking by an effort quite superhuman. He sleeps uncommon hard, said Mr. Cobb. Mr. Parks, who was possibly a hard sleeper himself, replied with some disdain, not a bit in it, and directed his eyes towards the hand-bill pasted over the chimney-piece, which was decorated at the top with a wood-cut representing a youth of tender years running away very fast, with a bundle over his shoulder at the end of a stick, and, to carry out the idea, a finger-post and a milestone beside him. Mr. Cobb likewise turned his eyes in the same direction and surveyed the placard as if that were the first time he had ever beheld it. Now this was a document which Mr. Willet had himself indicted 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 Maypollet Chigwell, or lodge him in any of his majesty's jails until such time as his father should come and claim him. In this advertisement Mr. Willet had obstinately persisted despite the advice and entreaties of his friends in describing his son as a young boy, and furthermore as being from eighteen inches to a couple of feet shorter than he really was, two circumstances which perhaps accounted 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. Parks looked mysteriously at this composition, at each other and at old John. From the time he had pasted it up with his own hands Mr. Willet had never by word or sign alluded to the subject or encouraged anyone 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, I shall have supper without him. The antecedent of this pronoun had been mentioned for the last time at eight o'clock. Messers Parks and Cobb being used to this style of conversation replied without difficulty that to be sure Solomon was very late and they wondered what had happened to detain him. He ain't blown away, I suppose, said Parks. 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 tonight, I reckon, and many a broken branch upon the ground tomorrow. It won't break anything in the maypole, I take it, sir, returned old John. Let it try. I give it leave. What's that? The wind, cried Parks. It's howling like a Christian and has been all night long. Did you ever, sir, ask John, after a minute's contemplation, hear the wind say, Maypole? Why, what man ever did, said Parks? Nor Ahoy, perhaps, added John. No, nor that neither. Very good, sir, said Mr. Willett, 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. Willett 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 was a shrillness in 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. Willett displayed something of that strength of mind and plenitude of mental resource which rendered him the admiration of all his friends and neighbors. After looking at Mr. Parks and Cobb for some time in silence, he clapped his two hands to his cheeks, and sent forth a roar which made the glasses dance and raptors ring, a long-sustained discordant fellow 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 was every vein in his head and face swollen with the great exertion, and his countenance suffused with a lively purple. He drew a little nearer to the fire, and turning his back upon it, said with dignity, If that's any comfort to anybody there, welcome to it. If it ain't, I'm sorry for him. 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 disordered dress, dashed into the room. A more complete picture of terror than the little man presented, it would be difficult to imagine. The perspiration stood in beads upon his face. His knees knocked together, his every limb trembled. The power of articulation was quite gone, and there he stood, panting for breath, gazing on them with such vivid ash he looks, that they were infected with his fear, though ignorant of its occasion. And reflecting his dismayed and horrist-trickin' visage, stared back again without venturing to question him, until old John Willet, in a fit of temporary insanity, made a dive at his cravat, and seizing him by that portion of his dress, shook him to and fro until his very teeth appeared to rattle in his head. Tell us what's the matter, sir, said John, or I'll kill you. Tell us what's the matter, sir, or in another second I'll have your head under the biler. How dare you look like that? Is anybody a following of you? What do you mean? Say something, or I'll be the death of you, I will. Mr. Willet, in his frenzy, was so near-keeping his word to the very letter, Solomon dazed his eyes already beginning to roll in an alarming manner, and certain guttural sounds as of a choking man to issue from his throat, that the two bystanders, recovering in some degree, plucked him off his 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 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, Parks! 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. Parks, who was nearest to the door, started and looked over his shoulder. Mr. Willet was great indignation and 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, a 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 is 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 brought back to this subject in some strange way when the nineteenth of this month comes round? Do you suppose it was by accident I forgot to wind up the church clock? I never forgot it at any other time, though it is such a clumsy thing that it has to be wound up every day. Why should it escape my memory on this day of all others? I made as much haste down there as I could when I went from here, but I had to go home first for the keys, and the wind and rain being dead against me all the way, it was pretty well as much as I could do at times to keep my legs. I got there at last, opened the church door, and went in. I had not met a soul all the way, and you may judge whether it was dull or not. Neither of you would bear me company. If you could have known what was to come you would 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 precipitantly interrupted the speaker and begged that if Mr. Parks, who was seated opposite to him and was staring directly over his head, saw anything he would have the goodness to mention it. Mr. Parks 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. Parks with great submission pledged himself to do so if again required, and John Willet, turning to Solomon, desired him to proceed. After waiting until a violent gust of wind and rain which seemed to shake even that sturdy house to its foundation, had passed away the little man complied. Never tell me that it was my fancy or that it was any other sound which I mistook for that I tell you of. I heard the wind whistle through the arches of the church. I heard the steeple strain and creak. I heard the rain as it came driving against the walls. I felt the bells shake. I saw the ropes sway to and fro. And I heard that voice. What did it say? asked Tom Cobb. I don't know what I don't know that it spoke. It gave a kind of cry as any one of us might do if something dreadful followed us in a dream and came upon us on a wares. 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 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 lightness of a man. It was bare headed to the storm. It turned its face without stopping and fixed its eyes on mine. It was a ghost a spirit. Who's they all three cried together in the access of his emotion for he fell back trembling in his chair and waved his hand as if in treating them to question him no further. His answer was a lost on all but old John Willet who happened to be seated close beside him. Who cried Parks 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 lightness of a murdered man. This is the 19th of March. A profound silence ensued. If you'll take my advice said John, we had better one and all keep this a secret. Such tales would not be liked at the Warren. Let us keep it to ourselves for the present time at all events or we may get into trouble and Solomon may lose his place. Whether it was really as he says or whether it wasn't it's no matter. Right or wrong nobody would believe him. As to the probabilities I don't myself think said Mr. Willet eyeing the corners of the room in a manner which showed that like some other philosophers he was not quite easy in his theory that a ghost as had been a man of sense in his lifetime would be out of walking in such weather. I only know that I wouldn't if I was one. But this heretical doctrine was strongly opposed by the other three who quoted a great many precedents to show that bad weather was the very time for such appearances. And Mr. Parks who had had a ghost in his family by the mother's side argued the matter was 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 inseparations 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 brooding the tale abroad unless the spirit should appear to him again in which case it would be necessary to take immediate counsel with the clergyman, it was solemnly resolved that it should be hushed up and kept quiet. And as most men like to have a secret to tell which may exalt their own importance they arrived at this 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 Longfield Parks 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. Chapter thirty-three. Chapter thirty-four of Barnaby Rudge. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens Chapter thirty-four. Before old John had looked at the boiler quite twenty minutes he got his ideas into a focus and brought them to bear upon Solomon Daisy's story. The more he thought of it the more impressed he became with a sense of his own wisdom and a desire that Mr. Hairdale 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 the variety of exaggerations would be known to at least a score of people and most likely to Mr. Hairdale himself by breakfast time tomorrow he determined to repair to the Warren before going to bed. He is my landlord thought John as he took a candle in his hand and setting it down in a corner out of the wind's way opened a casement in the rear of the house looking towards the stables. We haven't met of late years so often as we used to do changes are taking place in the family it's desirable that I should stand as well with them and 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 nature and set oneself right besides hello there you you hello. When he had repeated this shout a dozen times and startled every pigeon from its slumbers a door and one of the ruinous old buildings opened and a rough voice demanded what was amiss now that a man couldn't even have his sleep in quiet. What haven't you sleep enough growler that you're not to be knocked up for once said John. No replied the voice as the speaker young and shook himself not half enough. I don't know how you can sleep with the wind of bellowing and roaring about you making the tiles fly like a pack of 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. Mr. Willett 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 and 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 return Mr. Willett I put the heart as you call it into him when he has brought me safe home again and is standing steady on his legs out 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. Willett had been his own pilot he would have walked into a deep horse pond within a few hundred yards of his own house and would certainly have terminated his career in that ignoble sphere of action but Hugh who had a sight as keen as any hawks and apart from that endowment could have found his way blindfolded when he placed within a dozen miles dragged old John along quite deaf to his remonstrances and took his own course without the slightest reference to or notice of his master so they made head against the wind as they best could Hugh crushing the wet grass beneath his heavy tread and stalking on after his ordinary savage fashion John Willett following at arm's length picking his steps and looking about him now for bogs and ditches and now for such stray ghosts as might be wandering abroad with looks of as much dismay and uneasiness as his immovable face was capable of expressing at length they stood upon the broad gravel walk before the Warren House the building was profoundly dark and none were moving near it saved themselves from one solitary turret chamber however there's shown a ray of light and towards this speck of comfort in the cold careless silent scene Mr. Willett made 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 night on this night too why where else should he sit asked Hugh holding the lantern to his breast to keep the candle from the wind while he trimmed it with his fingers it's snug enough ain't it snug said John indignantly you have a comfortable idea of snugness you have sir do you know what was done in that room you ruffian why what is it the worst for that cried Hugh looking into John's fat face does he keep out the rain and snow and wind the less for that there's a less warm or dry because the man was killed there never believe it master one man's no such matter as that comes to Mr. Willett fixed his dull eyes on his follower and began by a species of inspiration to think it just barely possible that he was something of a dangerous character and that it might be advisable to get rid of him one of these days he was too prudent to say anything with the journey home before him and therefore turned to the iron gate before which this brief dialogue had passed and pulled the handle of the bell that hung beside it the turret in which the light appeared being at one corner of the building and only divided from the path by one of the garden walks upon which this gate opened Mr. Haerdale 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 will it is it not of the maypole at your service sir mr. Haerdale closed the window in with drew 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 will it what is the matter nothing to speak of sir said john an idle tale i thought you ought to know of nothing more let your man go forward with the lantern and give me your hand the stairs are crooked and narrow gently with your light friend you swing it like a sensor you who had already reached the turret held it more steadily and ascended first turning round from time to time to shed his light downward on the steps mr. Haerdale 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 stairs it terminated in a little ante room adjoining that from which they had seen the light mr. Haerdale entered first and led the way through it into the ladder chamber where he seated himself at a writing table from which he had risen when they had rung the bell come in he said beckoning to old john who remained bowing at the door not you friend he added hey still eat a hue who entered also well it why do you bring that fellow here why sir returned john elevating his eyebrows and lowering his voice to the tone in which the question had been asked him he's a good guard you see don't be too sure of that said mr. Haerdale looking towards him as he spoke i doubt it he has an evil eye there's no imagination in his eye returned mr. willett glancing over his shoulder at the organ in question certainly there is no good there be assured said mr. Haerdale 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 guessed the purport of their whispering did as he was told when he was shut out mr. Haerdale turned to john and made him go on with what he had to say but not to speak too loud for there were quick ears yonder thus cautioned mr. willett and 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. Haerdale often changed his attitude rose and paced the room returned again desired him to repeat as nearly as he could the very words that salomon had used and gave so many other signs of being disturbed and ill at ease that even mr. willett was surprised you did quite right he said at the end of a long conversation to bid them keep this story secret it is a foolish fancy on the part of this weak-brained man bred in his fears and superstition but miss haerdale though she would know it to be so would be disturbed by it if it reached her ears it is too nearly connected with the 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. Haerdale'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 embarrassing to john that he sat quite passive for a long time not knowing what to do at length he rose mr. Haerdale 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 antechamber floor sprang up on their entrance and throwing his cloak about him grasped his stick and lantern and prepared to descend the stairs stay said mr. Haerdale will this man drink drink he'd drink the Thames up if it was strong enough sir replied john will it you'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 should go home the better for one glass full halfway come as john made no reply mr. Haerdale brought out a glass of liquor and gave it to Hugh who as he took it in his hands threw part of it upon the floor what do you mean by splashing your drink about a gentleman's house sir said john i'm drinking a toast Hugh rejoined holding the glass above his head and fixing his eyes on mr. Haerdale's face a toast to this house and its master with that he muttered something to himself and drank the rest and setting down the glass preceded them without another word john was a good deal scandalized by this observance but seeing that mr. Haerdale 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 delight while mr. Haerdale 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 will it 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 of the same instant three horsemen swept past the nearest rushed his shoulder even then who checking their steeds as suddenly as they could stood still and waited for their coming up and of chapter 34 chapter 35 of Barnaby Rudge this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens chapter 35 when John Willett 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 high women 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 which he and his guard were placed he deemed it prudent to adapt a different style of general ship and therefore whispered his attendant to address them in the most peaceable and courteous terms by way of acting up to the spirit and letter of this instruction Hugh stepped forward and flourishing his staff before the very eyes of the rider nearest to him demanded roughly what he and his fellows meant by so nearly galloping over them and why they scoured the king's highway at that late hour of night the man whom he addressed was beginning an angry reply in the same strain when he was checked by the horsemen in the center 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 you're but a cherlish englishman if englishmen you be which i should much doubt but for your tongue your companion i am sure will answer me more civilly how say you friend i say it is the london road sir answered john and i wish he added in a subdued voice as he turned to Hugh that you was in any other road you vagabond are you tired of your life sir that you go trying to provoke three great neck or nothing caps that could keep on running over us backwards and forwards till we was dead and then take our bodies up behind them and drown us 10 miles off how far is it to london inquired the same speaker why from here sir answered john persuasively it's 13 very easy mile the adjective was thrown in as an inducement to the travelers to ride away with all speed but instead of having the desired effect it elicited from the same person the remark 13 miles that's a long distance which was followed by a short pause of indecision pray said the gentleman are there any ends hereabouts at the word ends john plucked up his spirit in a surprising manner his fears rolled off like smoke all the landlord stirred within him there are no ends rejoined mr willett with a strong emphasis on the plural number but there's a in one in the maypole in that's a in indeed you won't see the like of that in 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 hmm 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 an unexceptionable person we don't take in no take reagan bob till at our house sir answered john and as to the bed itself say as to three beds interposed gentlemen who had spoken before for we shall want three if we stay though my friend only speaks of one no no my lord you are too good you are too kind but your life is of far too much importance to the nation in these pretentious times to be placed upon a level with one so useless and so poor as mine a great cause my lord a mighty cause depends on you you are its leader and its champion its advanced guard and its fan 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 i take colder fever let john groovy pass the night beneath the open sky no one will repine for him but 40 000 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 my lord it is a mighty cause and must not be endangered my lord it is a holy cause and must not be deserted it is a holy cause exclaims his lordship lifting up his hat with great solemnity amen john groovy said the long winded gentleman in a tone of mild reproof his lordship said amen i heard my lord sir said the man sitting like a statue on his horse and do not you say amen likewise to which john groovy made no reply at all but sat looking straight before him you surprised me groovy said the gentleman had a crisis like the present when queen elizabeth that maiden monarch weeps within her tomb and bloody merry with a brow of gloom and shadow stalks triumphant oh sir cried the man gruffly where's the use of talking of bloody merry under such circumstances as the present when my lords went through and tired with hard riding let's either go on to london sir or put up at once or that unfortunate bloody merry 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 willett 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 them had quite given itself up for lost recovered so far as to observe that there was ample accommodation at the maypole for all the party good beds neat wines excellent entertainment for man and beast private rooms for large and 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 40 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 return to the person he appealed to in a silky tone that your health and spirits so important under providence to our great cause our pure and truthful cause here his lordship pulled off his hat again though it was raining hard require refreshment and repose go on before landlord and show the way said lord george gordon we will follow at a foot pace if you'll give me leave my lord said john groovy 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 groovy is quite right it opposed mr. gasford 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 customs seem to be when the secretary spoke bade hue push on and followed close behind him then came his lordship with mr. willard at his bridal reign and last of all his lordship secretary for that it seemed was gasford's office hughes rode briskly on often looking back at the servant whose horse was closed upon his heels and glancing was a leer at his bolster case of pistols by which he seemed to set great he was a square built strong made bullnecked 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 hardheaded imperturbable fellows who if they are ever beaten at fisticuffs or other kind of warfare never know it and go on coolly till they win if i led you wrong now said hugh tauntingly you'd you'd shoot me through the head i suppose john groovy took no more notice of this remark than if he had been deaf and hugh dumb but kept riding on quite comfortably with his eyes fixed on the horizon 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 groovy looked at him sideways with the same contented air but deigned not a word in answer like this said hugh giving his cudgel one of those skillful flourishes in which the rustic of that time delighted whoop or that returned john groovy beating down his guard with his whip and striking him on the head with its butt 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 be tokening neither malice triumph rage nor any lingering idea that he had given him offense 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 customer of almost supernatural toughness that he merely laughed and cried well done then shearing off a little led the way in silence before the lapse of many minutes the party halted at the maypole door lord george and his secretary quickly dismounting gave their horses to their servant who under the guidance of hugh repaired to the stables right glad to escape from the inclinacy of the night they followed mr willard 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 guests high quality required as he bustled in and out of the room intent on these arrangements he had an opportunity of observing the two travelers 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 shallow 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 10 years to his age but his figure was that of one not yet past 30 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 men 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 worn 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 the why it did so they would have had some trouble to explain jasper the secretary was taller angularly made high-shouldered bony and ungraceful his dress in imitation of his superior was demure and stayed in the extreme his manner formal and constrained this gentleman had an overhanging brow great hands and feet and ears and a pair of eyes that seemed to have made an unnatural retreat into his head and to have dug themselves a cave to hide in his manner was smooth and humble but very sly and slinking he wore the aspect of a man who was always lying and wait for something that wouldn't come to pass but he looked patient very patient and fawned like a spaniel dog even now while he warmed and rubbed his hands before the blaze he had the air of one who only presumed to enjoy it in his degree as a commoner and though he knew his lord was not regarding him he looked into his face from time to time and with a meek and deferential manner smiled as if for practice such were the guests whom old john willett with a fixed and leaden eye surveyed a hundred times and to whom he now advanced with a state candlestick in each hand be seeking 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 upstairs into the state apartment which like many other things of state was cold and comfortless their own footsteps reverberating through the spacious room struck upon their hearing with a hollow sound and its damp and chilly atmosphere was rendered doubly cheerless by contrast with the homely warmth they had deserted it was of no use however to propose a return to the place they had quitted for the preparations went on so briskly that there was no time to stop them john with the tall candlesticks in his hands bowed them up to the fireplace Hugh striding in with a lighted brand and pile of firewood cast it down upon the hearth and set it in a blaze john groovy 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 up the screen laying the cloth inspecting the beds lighting fires in the bedrooms expediting the supper and making everything as cozy 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 gasford filling his glass with great complacency the blessed work of a most blessed day and of a blessed yesterday said his lord ship raising his head ah and here the secretary clashed 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 tonight theirs is the light and glory did i move them gasford said lord george moved them my lord moved them they cried to be led on against the papas they vowed a dreadful vengeance on their heads they warred like men possessed but not by devils said his lord but devils my lord by angels yeah so 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 a gasford you did not doubt it my lord said the secretary no no return to his lord no why should i i suppose it would be decidedly irreligious to doubt it wouldn't it gasford 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 others downcast eyes which brightened slowly as he spoke when you warmed into that noble outbreak when you told them that you were never of the luke warm or the timid tribe and made them take heed that they were prepared to follow one who would lead them on though to the very death when you spoke of 120 000 men across the scottish border who would take their own redress at any time if it were not conceded when you cried perish the pope and all his base adherents the penal laws against them shall never be repealed while englishmen have hearts and hands and waved your own and touched your sword and when they cried no pulpery 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 pulpery lord george down with the papas 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 gasford did i really say all that and how much more cried the secretary looking upwards ah how much more and i told him what you say about the 140 000 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 gasford the true religion is my lord and that's ours he rejoined moving uneasily in his seat inviting his nails as though he would pair them to the quick there could be no doubt of ours being the true one you feel as certain of that as i do gasford don't you does my lord ask me winds gasford 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 eyes upon him with an unwholesome smile who's stricken by the magic of his eloquence in scotland but a year ago abjured the errors of the romish church and clung to him as one whose timely hand had plucked me from a pit true no no 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 gasford he added as he made a sudden halt by force of reason two returns appliance secretary a to be sure they may cough and jeer and groan in parliament and call me a fool and madman but which of them can raise this human sea and make it swell and roar at pleasure not one not one repeated gasford 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 not one repeated gasford again taking the lion's share of the mulled wine between wiles and as we are honest true and in a sacred cause gasford 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 unenglish papists which shall re echo through the country and roll with a noise like thunder i will be worthy of the motto on my coat of arms called and chosen and faithful called said the secretary by heaven i am chosen by the people yes faithful to both to the block it would be difficult to convey an adequate idea of the excited manner in which he gave these answers to the secretary's promptings of the rapidity of his utterance or the violence of his tone and gesture in which struggling through his puritan's demeanor was something wild and ungovernable which broke through all restraint for some minutes he walked rapidly up and down the room then stopping suddenly exclaimed gasford you moved them yesterday too oh yes you did i shone with a reflected light my lord replied the humble secretary laying his hand upon his heart i did my best you did well said his master and are a great and worthy instrument if you will ring for john groovy to carry the 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 mold wine to see how much remained john willett and john groovy appeared together the one bearing the great candlesticks and the other the portmanteau showed the diluted lord into his chamber and left the secretary alone to yawn and shake himself and finally to fall asleep before the fire now mr gasford sir said john groovy in his ear after what appeared to him a moment of unconsciousness my lord's a bed oh very good john was his mild reply thank you john nobody needs to sit up i know my room i hope you're not going to trouble your head tonight or my lord's head neither with anything more about bloody mary said john i wish the blessed old creed had never been born i said you might go to bed john returned the secretary you didn't hear me i think between bloody mary's and blue cockades and glorious queen vesses and no pulperies and protestant associations and making of speeches pursued john groovy 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 of doors such a set of ragamuffins comes a shouting after us gordon forever that i'm ashamed of myself and don't know where to look when we're indoors they come a roaring and screaming about the house like so many devils and my lord instead of ordering them to be drove away goes out into the balcony and demeans himself by making speeches to him and calls them men of england and fellow countrymen as if he was fond of them and thanked them for coming i can't make it out but they're all mixed up somehow or another with that unfortunate bloody mary and call her name out till their horse they're all protestants too every man and boy among them and protestants are very fond of spoons i find and silver plate in general whenever area gates is left open accidentally i wish that was the worst of it and that no more harm might be to come but if you don't stop these ugly customers in time mr gasford and i know you you're the man that blows the fire you'll find them 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 heard that bloody mary went as far as that gasford had vanished long ago and these remarks had been bestowed on empty air not at all just composed by the discovery john groovy fixed his head 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 end of chapter 35 chapter 36 of barnaby rudge this is a liberal box recording all liberal box recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit liberal box dot org barnaby rudge by charles dickens chapter 36 gasford with a smiling face but still with looks of profound deference and humility he took himself towards his master's room smoothing his hair down as he went and humming a psalm tune as he approached lord george's door he cleared his throat and hummed more vigorously there was a remarkable contrast between this man's occupation at the moment and the expression of his countenance which was singularly repulsive and malicious his beatling brow almost obscured his eyes his lip was curled contemptuously his very shoulders seemed to sneer and 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 chair too much thought ah lord preserve him for a martyr he is a saint if ever saint drew breath on this bad earth placing his light upon a table he walked on tiptoe to the fire and sitting in a chair before it was 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 slumbers his should be and here he sighed and warmed his hands and took his head as men do when their hearts are full and heaved another sigh and warmed his hands again while gasford said lord george who was lying broad awake upon his side and had been staring at him from his entrance my my lord said gasford starting and looking round as though in great surprise i have disturbed you 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 secretary drawing his sleeve in a hasty way across his eyes and why should i regret your having heard them gasford said the poor lord stretching out his hand with manifest emotion do not regret it you love me well i know too well i don't deserve such homage gasford 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 the key he carried in his pocket sat down before it took out a pen and before dipping it in the ink stand sucked it to compose the fashion of his mouth perhaps on which a smile was hovering yet how do our numbers stand since last and rolling 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 gasford replied casting his eyes upon his papers the funds not very improving but there is some mana in the wilderness my lord on friday night the widows mites dropped in forty scavengers three and four pence an aged pew opener of saint martin's parish six pence a bell ringer of the established church six pence a protestant input newly born one half penny the united link boys three shillings one bad the anti-pupish prisoners in newgate five and four pence 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 wallbeck street last friday a good man rejoined the secretary a staunch sincere and truly zealous man he should be encouraged said lord george make a note of dennis i'll talk with him gasford obeyed and went on reading from his list the friends of reason half a guinea the friends of liberty half a guinea the friends of peace half a guinea the friends of charity half a guinea the friends of mercy half a guinea the associated rememberers of bloody mary half a guinea the united bulldogs half a guinea the united bulldogs said lord george fighting his nails most horribly our 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 the president's name inquired lord george president said gasford reading mr. simon tapretit 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 tapretit is an earnest man said lord george thoughtfully a gasford one of the foremost among them all my lord he snuffs the battle from afar like the warhorse 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 tapretit 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 six pence and silver and copper and half a guinea in gold and migs being the saving of a quarter's wages one and three pence migs 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 tapretit and mrs. varden mrs. varden is the elderly lady then is she the secretary nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the feather of his pen she is a zealous sister said lord george her collection goes on prosperously and is pursued with fervor has her husband joined a malignant returned the secretary folding up his papers unworthy such a wife he remains in outer darkness and steadily refuses the consequences be upon his own head gasford 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 gasford 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 leaking 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 pulpish 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 gasford i am i will be i say again i will be to the block who says as much do you does any man alive the secretary drooped his head with an expression of perfect acquiescence at anything that had been said or might be and lord george gradually sinking down upon his pillow fell asleep although there was something very ludicrous in his vehement manner taken in conjunction with his meager aspect an 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 weakness sheer weakness and it is the unhappy lot of thoroughly weak men that their very sympathies affections confidences all the qualities which in better constituted minds are virtues dwindled into foibles or turned into downright vices gasford with many a sly look towards the bed sat chuckling at his master's folly until his deep and heavy breathing warned him that he might retire locking his desk and replacing it within the trunk but not before he had taken from a secret lining two printed handbills he cautiously withdrew looking back as he went as the pale face of the slumbering man above who's had the dusty plumes that crowned the maypole couch waved drearily and sadly as though it were a beer 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 a 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 what follows men and brethren whoever shall find this letter will take it as a warning to join without delay the friends of lord george gordon there are great events at hand and the times are dangerous and troubled read this carefully keep it clean and drop it somewhere else for king and country union more seed more seed said gasford as he closed the window when will the harvest come end of chapter 36