Anything can be got for money. Let's spend it
merrily.'
'Ay,' said Hugh, coiling himself into a new position.--'Where is it?'
'Why, they took mine from me at the lodge,' said Mr Dennis; 'but mine's
a peculiar case.'
'Is it? They took mine too.'
'Why then, I tell you what, brother,' Dennis began. 'You must look up
your friends--'
'My friends!' cried Hugh, starting up and resting on his hands. 'Where
are my friends?'
'Your relations then,' said Dennis.
'Ha ha ha!' laughed Hugh, waving one arm above his head. 'He talks of
friends to me--talks of relations to a man whose mother died the death
in store for her son, and left him, a hungry brat, without a face he
knew in all the world! He talks of this to me!'
'Brother,' cried the hangman, whose features underwent a sudden change,
'you don't mean to say--'
'I mean to say,' Hugh interposed, 'that they hung her up at Tyburn. What
was good enough for her, is good enough for me. Let them do the like by
me as soon as they please--the sooner the better. Say no more to me. I'm
going to sleep.'
'But I want to speak to you; I want to hear more about that,' said
Dennis, changing colour.
'If you're a wise man,' growled Hugh, raising his head to look at him
with a frown, 'you'll hold your tongue.
Pages:
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991