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He was gone； and had shut the door behind him。 They looked at
each other； and nodded approvingly： Dennis stirred up the fire。
‘This looks a little more like business！’ he said。
‘Ay； indeed！’ cried Hugh； ‘this suits me！’
‘I’ve heerd it said of Muster Gashford；’ said the hangman； ‘that
he’d a surprising memory and wonderful firmness—that he never
forgot； and never forgave。—Let’s drink his health！’
Hugh readily complied—pouring no liquor on the floor when he
drank this toast—and they pledged the secretary as a man after
their own hearts； in a bumper。
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Barnaby Rudge 480
Chapter 45
hile the worst passions of the worst men were thus
Wworking in the dark； and the mantle of religion；
assumed to cover the ugliest deformities； threatened to
become the shroud of all that was good and peaceful in society； a
circumstance occurred which once more altered the position of
two persons from whom this history has long been separated； and
to whom it must now return。
In a small English country town； the inhabitants of which
supported themselves by the labour of their hands in plaiting and
preparing straw for those who made bonnets and other articles of
dress and ornament from that material；—concealed under an
assumed name； and living in a quiet poverty which knew no
change； no pleasures； and few cares but that of struggling on from
day to day in one great toil for bread；—dwelt Barnaby and his
mother。 Their poor cottage had known no stranger’s foot since
they sought the shelter of its roof five years before； nor had they in
all that time held any commerce or communication with the old
world from which they had fled。 To labour in peace； and devote
her labour and her life to her poor son； was all the widow sought。
If happiness can be said at any time to be the lot of one on whom a
secret sorrow preys； she was happy now。 Tranquillity； resignation；
and her strong love of him who needed it so much； formed the
small circle of her quiet joys； and while that remained unbroken；
she was contented。
For Barnaby himself； the time which had flown by； had passed
him like the wind。 The daily suns of years had shed no brighter
gleam of reason on his mind； no dawn had broken on his long；
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Barnaby Rudge 481
dark night。 He would sit sometimes—often for days together on a
low seat by the fire or by the cottage door； busy at work （for he had
learnt the art his mother plied）； and listening； God help him； to the
tales she would repeat； as a lure to keep him in her sight。 He had
no recollection of these little narratives； the tale of yesterday was
new to him upon the morrow； but he liked them at the moment；
and when the humour held him； would remain patiently within
doors； hearing her stories like a little child； and working cheerfully
from sunrise until it was too dark to see。
At other times；—and then their scanty earnings were barely
sufficient to furnish them with food； though of the coarsest sort；—
he would wander abroad from dawn of day until the twilight
deepened into night。 Few in that place； even of the children； could
be idle； and he had no companions of his own kind。 Indeed there
were not many who could have kept up with him in his rambles；
had there been a legion。 But there were a score of vagabond dogs
belonging to the neighbours； who served his purpose quite as well。
With two or three of these； or sometimes with a full half…dozen
barking at his heels； he would sally forth on some long expedition
that consumed the day； and though； on their return at nightfall；
the dogs would come home limping and sore…footed； and almost
spent with their fatigue； Barnaby was up and off again at sunrise
with some new attendants of the same class； with whom he would
return in like manner。 On all these travels； Grip； in his little basket
at his master’s back； was a constant member of the party； and
when they set off in fine weather and in high spirits； no dog
barked louder than the raven。
Their pleasures on these excursions were simple enough。 A
crust of bread and scrap of meat； with water from the brook or
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spring； sufficed for their repast。 Barnaby’s enjoyments were； to
walk； and run； and leap； till he was tired； then to lie down in the
long grass； or by the growing corn； or in the shade of some tall
tree； looking upward at the light clouds as they floated over the
blue surface of the sky； and listening to the lark as she poured out
her brilliant song。 There were wild…flowers to pluck—the bright
red poppy； the gentle harebell； the cowslip； and the rose。 There
were birds to watch； fish； ants； worms； hares or rabbits； as they
darted across the distant pathway in the wood and so were gone：
millions of living things to have an interest in； and lie in wait for；
and clap hands and shout in memory of； when they had
disappeared。 In default of these； or when they wearied； there was
the merry sunlight to hunt out； as it crept in aslant through leaves
and boughs of trees； and hid far down—deep； deep； in hollow
places—like a silver pool； where nodding branches seemed to
bathe and sport； sweet scents of summer air breathing over fields
of beans or clover； the perfume of wet leaves or moss； the life of
waving trees； and shadows always changing。 When these or any of
them tired； or in excess of pleasing tempted him to shut his eyes；
there was slumber in the midst of all these soft delights； with the
gentle wind murmuring like music in his ears； and everything
around melting into one delicious dream。
Their hut—for it was little more—stood on the outskirts of the
town； at a short distance from the high road； but in a secluded
place； where few chance passengers strayed at any season of the
year。 It had a plot of garden…ground attached； which Barnaby； in
fits and starts of working； trimmed； and kept in order。 Within
doors and without； his mother laboured for their common good；
and hail； rain； snow； or sunshine； found no difference in her。
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Though so far removed from the scenes of her past life； and
with so little thought or hope of ever visiting them again； she
seemed to have a strange desire to know what happened in the
busy world。 Any old newspaper； or scrap of intelligence from
London； she caught at with avidity。 The excitement it produced
was not of a pleasurable kind； for her manner at such times
expressed the keenest anxiety and dread； but it never faded in the
least degree。 Then； and in stormy winter nights； when the wind
blew loud and strong； the old expression came into her face； and
she would be seized with a fit of trembling； like one who had an
ague。 But Barnaby noted little of this； and putting a great
constraint upon herself； she usually recovered her accustomed
manner before the change had caught his observation。
Grip was by no means an idle or unprofitable member of the
humble household。 Partly by dint of Barnaby’s tuition； and partly
by pursuing a species of self…instruction