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to this point； turning his head from one to the other； as if his office
were to judge between them； and it were of the very last
importance that he should not lose a word。
‘Look at him！’ said Varden； divided between admiration of the
bird and a kind of fear of him。 ‘Was there ever such a knowing imp
as that！ Oh he’s a dreadful fellow！’
The raven； with his head very much on one side； and his bright
eye shining like a diamond； preserved a thoughtful silence for a
few seconds； and then replied in a voice so hoarse and distant； that
it seemed to come through his thick feathers rather than out of his
mouth。
‘Halloa； halloa； halloa！ What’s the matter here！ Keep up your
spirits。 Never say die。 Bow wow wow。 I’m a devil； I’m a devil； I’m a
devil。 Hurrah！’—And then； as if exulting in his infernal character；
he began to whistle。
‘I more than half believe he speaks the truth。 Upon my word I
do；’ said Varden。 ‘Do you see how he looks at me； as if he knew
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what I was saying？’
To which the bird； balancing himself on tiptoe； as it were； and
moving his body up and down in a sort of grave dance； rejoined；
‘I’m a devil； I’m a devil； I’m a devil；’ and flapped his wings against
his sides as if he were bursting with laughter。 Barnaby clapped his
hands； and fairly rolled upon the ground in an ecstasy of delight。
‘Strange companions； sir；’ said the locksmith； shaking his head；
and looking from one to the other。 ‘The bird has all the wit。’
‘Strange indeed！’ said Edward； holding out his forefinger to the
raven； who； in acknowledgment of the attention； made a dive at it
immediately with his iron bill。 ‘Is he old？’
‘A mere boy； sir；’ replied the locksmith。 ‘A hundred and twenty；
or thereabouts。 Call him down； Barnaby； my man。’
‘Call him！’ echoed Barnaby； sitting upright upon the floor； and
staring vacantly at Gabriel； as he thrust his hair back from his
face。 ‘But who can make him come！ He calls me； and makes me go
where he will。 He goes on before； and I follow。 He’s the master；
and I’m the man。 Is that the truth； Grip？’
The raven gave a short； comfortable； confidential kind of
croak；—a most expressive croak； which seemed to say； ‘You
needn’t let these fellows into our secrets。 We understand each
other。 It’s all right。’
‘I make him come？’ cried Barnaby； pointing to the bird。 ‘Him；
who never goes to sleep； or so much as winks！—Why； any time of
night； you may see his eyes in my dark room； shining like two
sparks。 And every night； and all night too； he’s broad awake；
talking to himself； thinking what he shall do to…morrow； where we
shall go； and what he shall steal； and hide； and bury。 I make him
come！ Ha ha ha！’
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On second thoughts； the bird appeared disposed to come of
himself。 After a short survey of the ground； and a few sidelong
looks at the ceiling and at everybody present in turn； he fluttered
to the floor； and went to Barnaby—not in a hop； or walk； or run；
but in a pace like that of a very particular gentleman with
exceedingly tight boots on； trying to walk fast over loose pebbles。
Then； stepping into his extended hand； and condescending to be
held out at arm’s length； he gave vent to a succession of sounds；
not unlike the drawing of some eight or ten dozen of long corks；
and again asserted his brimstone birth and parentage with great
distinctness。
The locksmith shook his head—perhaps in some doubt of the
creature’s being really nothing but a bird—perhaps in pity for
Barnaby； who by this time had him in his arms； and was rolling
about； with him； on the ground。 As he raised his eyes from the
poor fellow he encountered those of his mother； who had entered
the room； and was looking on in silence。
She was quite white in the face； even to her lips； but had wholly
subdued her emotion； and wore her usual quiet look。 Varden
fancied as he glanced at her that she shrunk from his eye； and that
she busied herself about the wounded gentleman to avoid him the
better。
It was time he went to bed； she said。 He was to be removed to
his own home on the morrow； and he had already exceeded his
time for sitting up； by a full hour。 Acting on this hint； the locksmith
prepared to take his leave。
‘By the bye；’ said Edward； as he shook him by the hand； and
looked from him to Mrs Rudge and back again； ‘what noise was
that below？ I heard your voice in the midst of it； and should have
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inquired before； but our other conversation drove it from my
memory。 What was it？’
The locksmith looked towards her； and bit his lip。 She leant
against the chair； and bent her eyes upon the ground。 Barnaby
too—he was listening。
—‘Some mad or drunken fellow； sir；’ Varden at length made
answer； looking steadily at the widow as he spoke。 ‘He mistook the
house； and tried to force an entrance。’
She breathed more freely； but stood quite motionless。 As the
locksmith said ‘Good night；’ and Barnaby caught up the candle to
light him down the stairs； she took it from him； and charged him—
with more haste and earnestness than so slight an occasion
appeared to warrant—not to stir。 The raven followed them to
satisfy himself that all was right below； and when they reached the
street…door； stood on the bottom stair drawing corks out of
number。
With a trembling hand she unfastened the chain and bolts； and
turned the key。 As she had her hand upon the latch； the locksmith
said in a low voice；
‘I have told a lie to…night； for your sake； Mary； and for the sake
of bygone times and old acquaintance； when I would scorn to do so
for my own。 I hope I may have done no harm； or led to none。 I
can’t help the suspicions you have forced upon me； and I am loth； I
tell you plainly； to leave Mr Edward here。 Take care he comes to
no hurt。 I doubt the safety of this roof； and am glad he leaves it so
soon。 Now； let me go。’
For a moment she hid her face in her hands and wept； but
resisting the strong impulse which evidently moved her to reply；
opened the door—no wider than was sufficient for the passage of
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his body—and motioned him away。 As the locksmith stood upon
the step； it was chained and locked behind him； and the raven； in
furtherance of these precautions； barked like a lusty house…dog。
‘In league with that ill…looking figure that might have fallen
from a gibbet—he listening and hiding here—Barnaby first upon
the spot last night—can she who has always borne so fair a name
be guilty of such crimes in secret！’ said the locksmith； musing。
‘Heaven forgive me if I am wrong； and send me just thoughts； but
she is poor； the temptation may be great； and we daily hear of
things as strange。—Ay； bark away； my friend。 If there’s any
wickedness going on； that raven’s in it； I’ll be sworn。’
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Chapter 7
rs Varden was a lady of what is commonly called an