A hackney-coach was waiting near his door;
and as he passed it, Mr Haredale looked from the window and called him
by his name.
'The sight of you is good for sore eyes, sir,' said the locksmith,
stepping up to him. 'I wish you had walked in though, rather than waited
here.'
'There is nobody at home, I find,' Mr Haredale answered; 'besides, I
desired to be as private as I could.'
'Humph!' muttered the locksmith, looking round at his house. 'Gone with
Simon Tappertit to that precious Branch, no doubt.'
Mr Haredale invited him to come into the coach, and, if he were not
tired or anxious to go home, to ride with him a little way that they
might have some talk together. Gabriel cheerfully complied, and the
coachman mounting his box drove off.
'Varden,' said Mr Haredale, after a minute's pause, 'you will be amazed
to hear what errand I am on; it will seem a very strange one.'
'I have no doubt it's a reasonable one, sir, and has a meaning in it,'
replied the locksmith; 'or it would not be yours at all. Have you just
come back to town, sir?'
'But half an hour ago.'
'Bringing no news of Barnaby, or his mother?' said the locksmith
dubiously. 'Ah! you needn't shake your head, sir.
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