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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


'This is bad, Rudge. This is bad,' he said at length.
The prisoner shuffled with his feet upon the ground in turning his body
from him, but made no other answer.
'How were you taken?' he asked. 'And where? You never told me more than
half your secret. No matter; I know it now. How was it, and where, eh?'
he asked again, coming still nearer to him.
'At Chigwell,' said the other.
'At Chigwell! How came you there?'
'Because I went there to avoid the man I stumbled on,' he answered.
'Because I was chased and driven there, by him and Fate. Because I was
urged to go there, by something stronger than my own will. When I found
him watching in the house she used to live in, night after night, I knew
I never could escape him--never! and when I heard the Bell--'
He shivered; muttered that it was very cold; paced quickly up and down
the narrow cell; and sitting down again, fell into his old posture.
'You were saying,' said the blind man, after another pause, 'that when
you heard the Bell--'
'Let it be, will you?' he retorted in a hurried voice. 'It hangs there
yet.'
The blind man turned a wistful and inquisitive face towards him, but he
continued to speak, without noticing him.


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