Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty by Charles Dickens (classic books for 7th graders .txt) 📕

‘And close at hand?’

‘I did not say close at hand,’ he answered smoothly; ‘they are at no great distance. YOUR friends, sweet one,’ he added, addressing Dolly, ‘are within a few hours’ journey. You will be restored to them, I hope, to-night.’

‘My uncle, sir—’ faltered Emma.

‘Your uncle, dear Miss Haredale, happily—I say happily, because he has succeeded where many of our creed have failed, and is safe—has crossed the sea, and is out of Britain.’

‘I thank God for it,’ said Emma, faintly.

‘You say well. You have reason to be thankful: greater reason than it is possible for you, who have seen but one night of these cruel outrages, to imagine.’

‘Does he desire,’ said Emma, ‘that I should follow him?’

‘Do you ask if he desires it?’ cried the stranger in surprise. ‘IF he desires it! But you do not know the danger of remaining in England, the difficulty of escape, or the price hundreds would pay to secure the means, when you make that inquiry. Pardon me. I had forgotten that you could not, being prisoner here.’

‘I gather, sir,’ said Emma, after a moment’s pause, ‘from what you hint at, but fear to tell me, that I have witnessed but the beginning, and the least, of the violence to which we are exposed, and that it has not yet slackened in its fury?’

He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, lifted up his hands; and with the same smooth smile, which was not a pleasant one to see, cast his eyes upon the ground, and remained silent.

‘You may venture, sir, to speak plain,’ said Emma, ‘and to tell me the worst. We have undergone some preparation for it.’

But here Dolly interposed, and entreated her not to hear the worst, but the best; and besought the gentleman to tell them the best, and to keep the remainder of his news until they were safe among their friends again.

‘It is told in three words,’ he said, glancing at the locksmith’s daughter with a look of some displeasure. ‘The people have risen, to a man, against us; the streets are filled with soldiers, who support them and do their bidding. We have no protection but from above, and no safety but in flight; and that is a poor resource; for we are watched on every hand, and detained here, both by force and fraud. Miss Haredale, I cannot bear—believe me, that I cannot bear—by speaking of myself, or what I have done, or am prepared to do, to seem to vaunt my services before you. But, having powerful Protestant connections, and having my whole wealth embarked with theirs in shipping and commerce, I happily possessed the means of saving your uncle. I have the means of saving you; and in redemption of my sacred promise, made to him, I am here; pledged not to leave you until I have placed you in his arms. The treachery or penitence of one of the men about you, led to the discovery of your place of confinement; and that I have forced my way here, sword in hand, you see.’

‘You bring,’ said Emma, faltering, ‘some note or token from my uncle?’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ cried Dolly, pointing at him earnestly; ‘now I am sure he doesn’t. Don’t go with him for the world!’

‘Hush, pretty fool—be silent,’ he replied, frowning angrily upon her. ‘No, Miss Haredale, I have no letter, nor any token of any kind; for while I sympathise with you, and such as you, on whom misfortune so heavy and so undeserved has fallen, I value my life. I carry, therefore, no writing which, found upon me, would lead to its certain loss. I never thought of bringing any other token, nor did Mr Haredale think of entrusting me with one—possibly because he had good experience of my faith and honesty, and owed his life to me.’

There was a reproof conveyed in these words, which to a nature like Emma Haredale’s, was well addressed. But Dolly, who was differently constituted, was by no means touched by it, and still conjured her, in all the terms of affection and attachment she could think of, not to be lured away.

‘Time presses,’ said their visitor, who, although he sought to express the deepest interest, had something cold and even in his speech, that grated on the ear; ‘and danger surrounds us. If I have exposed myself to it, in vain, let it be so; but if you and he should ever meet again, do me justice. If you decide to remain (as I think you do), remember, Miss Haredale, that I left you with a solemn caution, and acquitting myself of all the consequences to which you expose yourself.’

‘Stay, sir!’ cried Emma—‘one moment, I beg you. Cannot we’—and she drew Dolly closer to her—‘cannot we go together?’

‘The task of conveying one female in safety through such scenes as we must encounter, to say nothing of attracting the attention of those who crowd the streets,’ he answered, ‘is enough. I have said that she will be restored to her friends to-night. If you accept the service I tender, Miss Haredale, she shall be instantly placed in safe conduct, and that promise redeemed. Do you decide to remain? People of all ranks and creeds are flying from the town, which is sacked from end to end. Let me be of use in some quarter. Do you stay, or go?’

‘Dolly,’ said Emma, in a hurried manner, ‘my dear girl, this is our last hope. If we part now, it is only that we may meet again in happiness and honour. I will trust to this gentleman.’

‘No no-no!’ cried Dolly, clinging to her. ‘Pray, pray, do not!’

‘You hear,’ said Emma, ‘that to-night—only to-night—within a few hours—think of that!—you will be among those who would die of grief to lose you, and who are now plunged in the deepest misery for your sake. Pray for me, dear girl, as I will for you; and never forget the many quiet hours we have passed together. Say one “God bless you!” Say that at parting!’

But Dolly could say nothing; no, not when Emma kissed her cheek a hundred times, and covered it with tears, could she do more than hang upon her neck, and sob, and clasp, and hold her tight.

‘We have time for no more of this,’ cried the man, unclenching her hands, and pushing her roughly off, as he drew Emma Haredale towards the door: ‘Now! Quick, outside there! are you ready?’

‘Ay!’ cried a loud voice, which made him start. ‘Quite ready! Stand back here, for your lives!’

And in an instant he was felled like an ox in the butcher’s shambles—struck down as though a block of marble had fallen from the roof and crushed him—and cheerful light, and beaming faces came pouring in—and Emma was clasped in her uncle’s embrace, and Dolly, with a shriek that pierced the air, fell into the arms of her father and mother.

What fainting there was, what laughing, what crying, what sobbing, what smiling, how much questioning, no answering, all talking together, all beside themselves with joy; what kissing, congratulating, embracing, shaking of hands, and falling into all these raptures, over and over and over again; no language can describe.

At length, and