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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

He uttered a piercing cry:
'Wait! Wait. Only a moment--only one moment more! Give me a last chance
of reprieve. One of us three is to go to Bloomsbury Square. Let me be
the one. It may come in that time; it's sure to come. In the Lord's name
let me be sent to Bloomsbury Square. Don't hang me here. It's murder.'
They took him to the anvil: but even then he could be heard above the
clinking of the smiths' hammers, and the hoarse raging of the crowd,
crying that he knew of Hugh's birth--that his father was living, and
was a gentleman of influence and rank--that he had family secrets in his
possession--that he could tell nothing unless they gave him time, but
must die with them on his mind; and he continued to rave in this sort
until his voice failed him, and he sank down a mere heap of clothes
between the two attendants.
It was at this moment that the clock struck the first stroke of twelve,
and the bell began to toll. The various officers, with the two sheriffs
at their head, moved towards the door. All was ready when the last chime
came upon the ear.
They told Hugh this, and asked if he had anything to say.
'To say!' he cried. 'Not I. I'm ready.--Yes,' he added, as his eye fell
upon Barnaby, 'I have a word to say, too.


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