But that's apart
from the business. She's in London. Scared, as I suppose, and have no
doubt, by my representation when I waited upon her, that you were close
at hand (which I, of course, urged only as an inducement to compliance,
knowing that she was not pining to see you), she left that place, and
travelled up to London.'
'How do you know?'
'From my friend the noble captain--the illustrious general--the bladder,
Mr Tappertit. I learnt from him the last time I saw him, which was
yesterday, that your son who is called Barnaby--not after his father, I
suppose--'
'Death! does that matter now!'
'--You are impatient,' said the blind man, calmly; 'it's a good sign,
and looks like life--that your son Barnaby had been lured away from her
by one of his companions who knew him of old, at Chigwell; and that he
is now among the rioters.'
'And what is that to me? If father and son be hanged together, what
comfort shall I find in that?'
'Stay--stay, my friend,' returned the blind man, with a cunning look,
'you travel fast to journeys' ends. Suppose I track my lady out, and say
thus much: "You want your son, ma'am--good. I, knowing those who tempt
him to remain among them, can restore him to you, ma'am--good.
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