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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

'Do you hear that, mother!'
'And they're mustering yonder, as I am told,' resumed the old man, 'nigh
upon a hundred thousand strong. Ah! Let Lord George alone. He knows
his power. There'll be a good many faces inside them three windows over
there,' and he pointed to where the House of Commons overlooked the
river, 'that'll turn pale when good Lord George gets up this afternoon,
and with reason too! Ay, ay. Let his lordship alone. Let him alone.
HE knows!' And so, with much mumbling and chuckling and shaking of his
forefinger, he rose, with the assistance of his stick, and tottered off.
'Mother!' said Barnaby, 'that's a brave crowd he talks of. Come!'
'Not to join it!' cried his mother.
'Yes, yes,' he answered, plucking at her sleeve. 'Why not? Come!'
'You don't know,' she urged, 'what mischief they may do, where they may
lead you, what their meaning is. Dear Barnaby, for my sake--'
'For your sake!' he cried, patting her hand. 'Well! It IS for your sake,
mother. You remember what the blind man said, about the gold. Here's a
brave crowd! Come! Or wait till I come back--yes, yes, wait here.'
She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered, to turn him
from his purpose, but in vain.


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