Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r.
'Something will come of this!' said Mr Tappertit, pausing as if in
triumph, and wiping his heated face upon his sleeve. 'Something will
come of this. I hope it mayn't be human gore!'
Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r.
Chapter 5
As soon as the business of the day was over, the locksmith sallied
forth, alone, to visit the wounded gentleman and ascertain the progress
of his recovery. The house where he had left him was in a by-street
in Southwark, not far from London Bridge; and thither he hied with all
speed, bent upon returning with as little delay as might be, and getting
to bed betimes.
The evening was boisterous--scarcely better than the previous night had
been. It was not easy for a stout man like Gabriel to keep his legs at
the street corners, or to make head against the high wind, which often
fairly got the better of him, and drove him back some paces, or, in
defiance of all his energy, forced him to take shelter in an arch or
doorway until the fury of the gust was spent. Occasionally a hat or wig,
or both, came spinning and trundling past him, like a mad thing; while
the more serious spectacle of falling tiles and slates, or of masses of
brick and mortar or fragments of stone-coping rattling upon the pavement
near at hand, and splitting into fragments, did not increase the
pleasure of the journey, or make the way less dreary.
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