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Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty by Charles Dickens
page 57 of 910 (06%)
from day to day, and yet so far off. He had a respect for his master,
but he wished the Yorkshire cake might choke him.

'Father,' said the locksmith's daughter, when this salute was over, and
they took their seats at table, 'what is this I hear about last night?'

'All true, my dear; true as the Gospel, Doll.'

'Young Mr Chester robbed, and lying wounded in the road, when you came
up!'

'Ay--Mr Edward. And beside him, Barnaby, calling for help with all his
might. It was well it happened as it did; for the road's a lonely one,
the hour was late, and, the night being cold, and poor Barnaby even less
sensible than usual from surprise and fright, the young gentleman might
have met his death in a very short time.'

'I dread to think of it!' cried his daughter with a shudder. 'How did
you know him?'

'Know him!' returned the locksmith. 'I didn't know him--how could I? I
had never seen him, often as I had heard and spoken of him. I took him
to Mrs Rudge's; and she no sooner saw him than the truth came out.'

'Miss Emma, father--If this news should reach her, enlarged upon as it
is sure to be, she will go distracted.'

'Why, lookye there again, how a man suffers for being good-natured,'
said the locksmith. 'Miss Emma was with her uncle at the masquerade at
Carlisle House, where she had gone, as the people at the Warren told me,
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