SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 436 | Next

Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

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 Daisy's eyes already beginning to roll in an alarming
manner, and certain guttural sounds, as of a choking man, to issue from
his throat), that the two bystanders, recovering in some degree,
plucked him off his 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, Parkes. Oh,
Tommy Cobb. Why did I leave this house to-night! On the nineteenth of
March--of all nights in the year, on the nineteenth of March!'
They all drew closer to the fire.


Pages:
424 425 426 427 428 429 430 431 432 433 434 435 436 437 438 439 440 441 442 443 444 445 446 447 448