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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

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, frowzy, slouching horse-cloth. Mr Willet
received this figure at the back-door, and ushered him into the bar,
while he wrapped himself in sundry greatcoats and capes, and so tied and
knotted his face in shawls and handkerchiefs, that how he breathed was a
mystery.
'You don't take a man out of doors at near midnight in such weather,
without putting some heart into him, do you, master?' said Hugh.
'Yes I do, sir,' returned Mr Willet. 'I put the heart (as you call it)
into him when he has brought me safe home again, and his standing steady
on his legs an't of so much consequence. So hold that light up, if you
please, and go on a step or two before, to show the way.'
Hugh obeyed with a very indifferent grace, and a longing glance at the
bottles. Old John, laying strict injunctions on his cook to keep the
doors locked in his absence, and to open to nobody but himself on pain
of dismissal, followed him into the blustering darkness out of doors.
The way was wet and dismal, and the night so black, that if Mr Willet
had been his own pilot, he would have walked into a deep horsepond
within a few hundred yards of his own house, and would certainly have
terminated his career in that ignoble sphere of action.


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