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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"

But Hugh
was as nimble, strong, and swift of foot, as any man in broad England,
and it was but a fruitless expenditure of energy, for he had her in his
encircling arms again before she had gone a hundred yards.
'Softly, darling--gently--would you fly from rough Hugh, that loves you
as well as any drawing-room gallant?'
'I would,' she answered, struggling to free herself again. 'I will.
Help!'
'A fine for crying out,' said Hugh. 'Ha ha ha! A fine, pretty one, from
your lips. I pay myself! Ha ha ha!'
'Help! help! help!' As she shrieked with the utmost violence she could
exert, a shout was heard in answer, and another, and another.
'Thank Heaven!' cried the girl in an ecstasy. 'Joe, dear Joe, this way.
Help!'
Her assailant paused, and stood irresolute for a moment, but the shouts
drawing nearer and coming quick upon them, forced him to a speedy
decision. He released her, whispered with a menacing look, 'Tell HIM:
and see what follows!' and leaping the hedge, was gone in an instant.
Dolly darted off, and fairly ran into Joe Willet's open arms.
'What is the matter? are you hurt? what was it? who was it? where is
he? what was he like?' with a great many encouraging expressions and
assurances of safety, were the first words Joe poured forth.


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