Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty by Charles Dickens
page 48 of 910 (05%)
page 48 of 910 (05%)
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'I can't touch him!' cried the idiot falling back, and shuddering as with a strong spasm; he's bloody!' 'It's in his nature, I know,' muttered the locksmith, 'it's cruel to ask him, but I must have help. Barnaby--good Barnaby--dear Barnaby--if you know this gentleman, for the sake of his life and everybody's life that loves him, help me to raise him and lay him down.' 'Cover him then, wrap him close--don't let me see it--smell it--hear the word. Don't speak the word--don't!' 'No, no, I'll not. There, you see he's covered now. Gently. Well done, well done!' They placed him in the carriage with great ease, for Barnaby was strong and active, but all the time they were so occupied he shivered from head to foot, and evidently experienced an ecstasy of terror. This accomplished, and the wounded man being covered with Varden's own greatcoat which he took off for the purpose, they proceeded onward at a brisk pace: Barnaby gaily counting the stars upon his fingers, and Gabriel inwardly congratulating himself upon having an adventure now, which would silence Mrs Varden on the subject of the Maypole, for that night, or there was no faith in woman. Chapter 4 |
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