But on, on, on, with neither stop nor stumble, till
they reached the Maypole door, and could plainly see that the fire began
to fade, as if for want of fuel.
'Down--for one moment--for but one moment,' said Mr Haredale, helping
Daisy to the ground, and following himself. 'Willet--Willet--where are
my niece and servants--Willet!'
Crying to him distractedly, he rushed into the bar.--The landlord bound
and fastened to his chair; the place dismantled, stripped, and pulled
about his ears;--nobody could have taken shelter here.
He was a strong man, accustomed to restrain himself, and suppress his
strong emotions; but this preparation for what was to follow--though he
had seen that fire burning, and knew that his house must be razed to the
ground--was more than he could bear. He covered his face with his hands
for a moment, and turned away his head.
'Johnny, Johnny,' said Solomon--and the simple-hearted fellow cried
outright, and wrung his hands--'Oh dear old Johnny, here's a change!
That the Maypole bar should come to this, and we should live to see
it! The old Warren too, Johnny--Mr Haredale--oh, Johnny, what a piteous
sight this is!'
Pointing to Mr Haredale as he said these words, little Solomon Daisy put
his elbows on the back of Mr Willet's chair, and fairly blubbered on his
shoulder.
Pages:
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744