'
The subject of this dialogue and of these concluding remarks, which were
uttered in a tone of philosophical meditation, was, as the reader will
have divined, no other than Barnaby, who, with his flag in hand, stood
sentry in the little patch of sunlight at the distant door, or walked
to and fro outside, singing softly to himself; and keeping time to the
music of some clear church bells. Whether he stood still, leaning with
both hands on the flagstaff, or, bearing it upon his shoulder, paced
slowly up and down, the careful arrangement of his poor dress, and his
erect and lofty bearing, showed how high a sense he had of the great
importance of his trust, and how happy and how proud it made him. To
Hugh and his companion, who lay in a dark corner of the gloomy shed,
he, and the sunlight, and the peaceful Sabbath sound to which he made
response, seemed like a bright picture framed by the door, and set
off by the stable's blackness. The whole formed such a contrast to
themselves, as they lay wallowing, like some obscene animals, in their
squalor and wickedness on the two heaps of straw, that for a few moments
they looked on without speaking, and felt almost ashamed.
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