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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

He told him that she had kept her word to the last; and
that, meeting even him in the streets--he had been fond of her once, it
seems--she had slipped from him by a trick, and he never saw her again,
until, being in one of the frequent crowds at Tyburn, with some of
his rough companions, he had been driven almost mad by seeing, in
the criminal under another name, whose death he had come to witness,
herself. Standing in the same place in which she had stood, he told
the hangman this, and told him, too, her real name, which only her own
people and the gentleman for whose sake she had left them, knew. That
name he will tell again, Sir John, to none but you.'
'To none but me!' exclaimed the knight, pausing in the act of raising
his cup to his lips with a perfectly steady hand, and curling up his
little finger for the better display of a brilliant ring with which it
was ornamented: 'but me!--My dear Mr Varden, how very preposterous, to
select me for his confidence! With you at his elbow, too, who are so
perfectly trustworthy!'
'Sir John, Sir John,' returned the locksmith, 'at twelve tomorrow, these
men die. Hear the few words I have to add, and do not hope to deceive
me; for though I am a plain man of humble station, and you are a
gentleman of rank and learning, the truth raises me to your level, and
I KNOW that you anticipate the disclosure with which I am about to end,
and that you believe this doomed man, Hugh, to be your son.


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