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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

'
'If we mean the same gentleman, as I suppose we do,' Hugh rejoined
softly, 'I tell you this--he's as good and quick information about
everything as--' here he paused and looked round, as if to make sure
that the person in question was not within hearing, 'as Old Nick
himself. Have you done that, master? How slow you are!'
'It's quite fast now,' said Gashford, rising. 'I say--you didn't find
that your friend disapproved of to-day's little expedition? Ha ha ha!
It is fortunate it jumps so well with the witness policy; for, once
planned, it must have been carried out. And now you are going, eh?'
'Now we are going, master!' Hugh replied. 'Any parting words?'
'Oh dear, no,' said Gashford sweetly. 'None!'
'You're sure?' cried Hugh, nudging the grinning Dennis.
'Quite sure, eh, Muster Gashford?' chuckled the hangman.
Gashford paused a moment, struggling with his caution and his malice;
then putting himself between the two men, and laying a hand upon the arm
of each, said, in a cramped whisper:
'Do not, my good friends--I am sure you will not--forget our talk one
night--in your house, Dennis--about this person. No mercy, no quarter,
no two beams of his house to be left standing where the builder placed
them! Fire, the saying goes, is a good servant, but a bad master.


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