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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


His kindling eye, his firm step, his proud and resolute bearing, might
have graced some lofty act of heroism; some voluntary sacrifice, born of
a noble cause and pure enthusiasm; rather than that felon's death.
But all these things increased his guilt. They were mere assumptions.
The law had declared it so, and so it must be. The good minister had
been greatly shocked, not a quarter of an hour before, at his parting
with Grip. For one in his condition, to fondle a bird!--The yard was
filled with people; bluff civic functionaries, officers of justice,
soldiers, the curious in such matters, and guests who had been bidden as
to a wedding. Hugh looked about him, nodded gloomily to some person
in authority, who indicated with his hand in what direction he was to
proceed; and clapping Barnaby on the shoulder, passed out with the gait
of a lion.
They entered a large room, so near to the scaffold that the voices of
those who stood about it, could be plainly heard: some beseeching
the javelin-men to take them out of the crowd: others crying to those
behind, to stand back, for they were pressed to death, and suffocating
for want of air.
In the middle of this chamber, two smiths, with hammers, stood beside an
anvil.


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