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you may settle me as soon as you like。’
‘Ah！’ cried Miggs—and coughed again。
Poor Gabriel twisted his wig about in silence for a long time；
and then said mildly； ‘Has Dolly gone to bed？’
‘Your master speaks to you；’ said Mrs Varden； looking sternly
over her shoulder at Miss Miggs in waiting。
‘No； my dear； I spoke to you；’ suggested the locksmith。
‘Did you hear me； Miggs？’ cried the obdurate lady； stamping
her foot upon the ground。 ‘You are beginning to despise me now；
are you？ But this is example！’
At this cruel rebuke； Miggs； whose tears were always ready； for
large or small parties； on the shortest notice and the most
reasonable terms； fell a crying violently； holding both her hands
tight upon her heart meanwhile； as if nothing less would prevent
its splitting into small fragments。 Mrs Varden； who likewise
possessed that faculty in high perfection； wept too； against Miggs；
and with such effect that Miggs gave in after a time； and； except
for an occasional sob； which seemed to threaten some remote
intention of breaking out again； left her mistress in possession of
the field。 Her superiority being thoroughly asserted； that lady soon
desisted likewise； and fell into a quiet melancholy。
The relief was so great； and the fatiguing occurrences of last
night so completely overpowered the locksmith； that he nodded in
his chair； and would doubtless have slept there all night； but for
the voice of Mrs Varden； which； after a pause of some five minutes；
awoke him with a start。
‘If I am ever；’ said Mrs V。—not scolding； but in a sort of
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monotonous remonstrance—‘in spirits； if I am ever cheerful； if I
am ever more than usually disposed to be talkative and
comfortable； this is the way I am treated。’
‘Such spirits as you was in too； mim； but half an hour ago！’ cried
Miggs。 ‘I never see such company！’
‘Because；’ said Mrs Varden； ‘because I never interfere or
interrupt； because I never question where anybody comes or goes；
because my whole mind and soul is bent on saving where I can
save； and labouring in this house；—therefore； they try me as they
do。’
‘Martha；’ urged the locksmith； endeavouring to look as wakeful
as possible； ‘what is it you complain of？ I really came home with
every wish and desire to be happy。 I did； indeed。’
‘What do I complain of！’ retorted his wife。 ‘Is it a chilling thing
to have one’s husband sulking and falling asleep directly he comes
home—to have him freezing all one’s warm…heartedness； and
throwing cold water over the fireside？ Is it natural； when I know
he went out upon a matter in which I am as much interested as
anybody can be； that I should wish to know all that has happened；
or that he should tell me without my begging and praying him to
do it？ Is that natural； or is it not？’
‘I am very sorry； Martha；’ said the good…natured locksmith。 ‘I
was really afraid you were not disposed to talk pleasantly； I’ll tell
you everything； I shall only be too glad； my dear。’
‘No； Varden；’ returned his wife； rising with dignity。 ‘I dare say—
thank you！ I’m not a child to be corrected one minute and petted
the next—I’m a little too old for that； Varden。 Miggs； carry the
light。 You can be cheerful； Miggs； at least’
Miggs； who； to this moment； had been in the very depths of
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compassionate despondency； passed instantly into the liveliest
state conceivable； and tossing her head as she glanced towards the
locksmith； bore off her mistress and the light together。
‘Now； who would think；’ thought Varden； shrugging his
shoulders and drawing his chair nearer to the fire； ‘that that
woman could ever be pleasant and agreeable？ And yet she can be。
Well； well； all of us have our faults。 I’ll not be hard upon hers。 We
have been man and wife too long for that。’
He dozed again—not the less pleasantly； perhaps； for his hearty
temper。 While his eyes were closed； the door leading to the upper
stairs was partially opened； and a head appeared； which； at sight
of him； hastily drew back again。
‘I wish；’ murmured Gabriel； waking at the noise； and looking
round the room； ‘I wish somebody would marry Miggs。 But that’s
impossible！ I wonder whether there’s any madman alive； who
would marry Miggs！’
This was such a vast speculation that he fell into a doze again；
and slept until the fire was quite burnt out。 At last he roused
himself； and having double…locked the street…door according to
custom； and put the key in his pocket； went off to bed。
He had not left the room in darkness many minutes； when the
head again appeared； and Sim Tappertit entered； bearing in his
hand a little lamp。
‘What the devil business has he to stop up so late！’ muttered
Sim； passing into the workshop； and setting it down upon the
forge。 ‘Here’s half the night gone already。 There’s only one good
that has ever come to me； out of this cursed old rusty mechanical
trade； and that’s this piece of ironmongery； upon my soul！’
As he spoke； he drew from the right hand； or rather right leg
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pocket of his smalls； a clumsy large…sized key； which he inserted
cautiously in the lock his master had secured； and softly opened
the door。 That done； he replaced his piece of secret workmanship
in his pocket； and leaving the lamp burning； and closing the door
carefully and without noise； stole out into the street—as little
suspected by the locksmith in his sound deep sleep； as by Barnaby
himself in his phantom…haunted dreams。
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Chapter 8
lear of the locksmith’s house； Sim Tappertit laid aside his
cautious manner； and assuming in its stead that of a
C
ruffling； swaggering； roving blade； who would rather kill a
man than otherwise； and eat him too if needful； made the best of
his way along the darkened streets。
Half pausing for an instant now and then to smite his pocket
and assure himself of the safety of his master key； he hurried on to
Barbican； and turning into one of the narrowest of the narrow
streets which diverged from that centre； slackened his pace and
wiped his heated brow； as if the termination of his walk were near
at hand。
It was not a very choice spot for midnight expeditions； being in
truth one of more than questionable character； and of an
appearance by no means inviting。 From the main street he had
entered； itself little better than an alley； a low…browed doorway led
into a blind court； or yard； profoundly dark； unpaved； and reeking
with stagnant odours。 Into this ill…favoured pit； the locksmith’s
vagrant ’prentice groped his way； and stopping at a house from
whose defaced and rotten front the rude effigy of a bottle swung to
and fro like some gibbeted malefactor； struck thrice upon an iron
grating with his foot。 After listening in vain for some response to
his signal； Mr Tappertit became impatient； and struck the grating
thrice again。
A further delay ensued； but it was not of long duration。 The
ground seemed to open at his feet； and a ragged head appeared。
‘Is that the captain？’ said a voice as r