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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

Successful, at last, in awakening an interest in his favour,
and an inclination to inquire more dispassionately into his case, they
had had an interview with the minister, in his bed, so late as eight
o'clock that morning. The result of a searching inquiry (in which
they, who had known the poor fellow from his childhood, did other good
service, besides bringing it about) was, that between eleven and twelve
o'clock, a free pardon to Barnaby Rudge was made out and signed, and
entrusted to a horse-soldier for instant conveyance to the place of
execution. This courier reached the spot just as the cart appeared in
sight; and Barnaby being carried back to jail, Mr Haredale, assured that
all was safe, had gone straight from Bloomsbury Square to the Golden
Key, leaving to Gabriel the grateful task of bringing him home in
triumph.
'I needn't say,' observed the locksmith, when he had shaken hands with
all the males in the house, and hugged all the females, five-and-forty
times, at least, 'that, except among ourselves, I didn't want to make a
triumph of it. But, directly we got into the street we were known, and
this hubbub began. Of the two,' he added, as he wiped his crimson face,
'and after experience of both, I think I'd rather be taken out of my
house by a crowd of enemies, than escorted home by a mob of friends!'
It was plain enough, however, that this was mere talk on Gabriel's part,
and that the whole proceeding afforded him the keenest delight; for
the people continuing to make a great noise without, and to cheer as if
their voices were in the freshest order, and good for a fortnight, he
sent upstairs for Grip (who had come home at his master's back, and had
acknowledged the favours of the multitude by drawing blood from every
finger that came within his reach), and with the bird upon his arm
presented himself at the first-floor window, and waved his hat again
until it dangled by a shred, between his finger and thumb.


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