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their deliberations with the necessary gravity and freedom； while
they were surrounded by armed troops。 And now that the rioters
were dispersed； the citizens were beset with a new fear； for；
finding the public thoroughfares and all their usual places of
resort filled with soldiers entrusted with the free use of fire and
sword； they began to lend a greedy ear to the rumours which were
afloat of martial law being declared； and to dismal stories of
prisoners having been seen hanging on lamp…posts in Cheapside
and Fleet Street。 These terrors being promptly dispelled by a
Proclamation declaring that all the rioters in custody would be
tried by a special commission in due course of law； a fresh alarm
was engendered by its being whispered abroad that French money
had been found on some of the rioters； and that the disturbances
had been fomented by foreign powers who sought to compass the
overthrow and ruin of England。 This report； which was
strengthened by the diffusion of anonymous handbills； but which；
if it had any foundation at all； probably owed its origin to the
circumstance of some few coins which were not English money
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having been swept into the pockets of the insurgents with other
miscellaneous booty； and afterwards discovered on the prisoners
or the dead bodies；—caused a great sensation； and men’s minds
being in that excited state when they are most apt to catch at any
shadow of apprehension； was bruited about with much industry。
All remaining quiet； however； during the whole of this Friday；
and on this Friday night； and no new discoveries being made；
confidence began to be restored； and the most timid and
desponding breathed again。 In Southwark； no fewer than three
thousand of the inhabitants formed themselves into a watch； and
patrolled the streets every hour。 Nor were the citizens slow to
follow so good an example： and it being the manner of peaceful
men to be very bold when the danger is over； they were
abundantly fierce and daring； not scrupling to question the
stoutest passenger with great severity； and carrying it with a very
high hand over all errand…boys； servant…girls； and ’prentices。
As day deepened into evening； and darkness crept into the
nooks and corners of the town as if it were mustering in secret and
gathering strength to venture into the open ways； Barnaby sat in
his dungeon； wondering at the silence； and listening in vain for the
noise and outcry which had ushered in the night of late。 Beside
him； with his hand in hers； sat one in whose companionship he felt
at peace。 She was worn； and altered； full of grief； and heavy…
hearted； but the same to him。
‘Mother；’ he said； after a long silence： ‘how long；—how many
days and nights；—shall I be kept here？’
‘Not many； dear。 I hope not many。’
‘You hope！ Ay； but your hoping will not undo these chains。 I
hope； but they don’t mind that。 Grip hopes； but who cares for
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Grip？’
The raven gave a short； dull； melancholy croak。 It said
‘Nobody；’ as plainly as a croak could speak。
‘Who cares for Grip； except you and me？’ said Barnaby；
smoothing the bird’s rumpled feathers with his hand。 ‘He never
speaks in this place； he never says a word in jail； he sits and mopes
all day in his dark corner； dozing sometimes； and sometimes
looking at the light that creeps in through the bars； and shines in
his bright eye as if a spark from those great fires had fallen into
the room and was burning yet。 But who cares for Grip？’
The raven croaked again—Nobody。
‘And by the way；’ said Barnaby； withdrawing his hand from the
bird； and laying it upon his mother’s arm； as he looked eagerly in
her face； ‘if they kill me—they may： I heard it said they would—
what will become of Grip when I am dead？’
The sound of the word； or the current of his own thoughts；
suggested to Grip his old phrase ‘Never say die！’ But he stopped
short in the middle of it； drew a dismal cork； and subsided into a
faint croak； as if he lacked the heart to get through the shortest
sentence。
‘Will they take his life as well as mine？’ said Barnaby。 ‘I wish
they would。 If you and I and he could die together； there would be
none to feel sorry； or to grieve for us。 But do what they will； I don’t
fear them； mother！’
‘They will not harm you；’ she said； her tears choking her
utterance。 ‘They never will harm you； when they know all。 I am
sure they never will。’
‘Oh！ Don’t be too sure of that；’ cried Barnaby； with a strange
pleasure in the belief that she was self…deceived； and in his own
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sagacity。 ‘They have marked me from the first。 I heard them say so
to each other when they brought me to this place last night； and I
believe them。 Don’t you cry for me。 They said that I was bold； and
so I am； and so I will be。 You may think that I am silly； but I can
die as well as another。—I have done no harm； have I？’ he added
quickly。
‘None before Heaven；’ she answered。
‘Why then；’ said Barnaby； ‘let them do their worst。 You told me
once—you—when I asked you what death meant； that it was
nothing to be feared； if we did no harm—Aha！ mother； you
thought I had forgotten that！’
His merry laugh and playful manner smote her to the heart。
She drew him closer to her； and besought him to talk to her in
whispers and to be very quiet； for it was getting dark； and their
time was short； and she would soon have to leave him for the
night。
‘You will come to…morrow？’ said Barnaby。
Yes。 And every day。 And they would never part again。
He joyfully replied that this was well； and what he wished； and
what he had felt quite certain she would tell him； and then he
asked her where she had been so long； and why she had not come
to see him when he had been a great soldier； and ran through the
wild schemes he had had for their being rich and living
prosperously； and with some faint notion in his mind that she was
sad and he had made her so； tried to console and comfort her； and
talked of their former life and his old sports and freedom： little
dreaming that every word he uttered only increased her sorrow；
and that her tears fell faster at the freshened recollection of their
lost tranquillity。
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‘Mother；’ said Barnaby； as they heard the man approaching to
close the cells for the night；’ when I spoke to you just now about
my father you cried “Hush！” and turned away your head。 Why did
you do so？ Tell me why； in a word。 You thought he was dead。 You
are not sorry that he is alive and has come back to us。 Where is
he？ Here？’
‘Do not ask any one where he is； or speak about him；’ she made
answer。
‘Why not？’ said Barnaby。 ‘Because he is a stern man； and talks
roughly？ Well！ I don’t like him； or want to be with him by myself；
but why not speak about him？’
‘Because I am sorry that he is alive； sorry that he has come
back；