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Willet had himself indited on the disappearance of his son Joseph；
acquainting the nobility and gentry and the public in general with
the circumstances of his having left his home； describing his dress
and appearance； and offering a reward of five pounds to any
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person or persons who would pack him up and return him safely
to the Maypole at Chigwell； or lodge him in any of his Majesty’s
jails until such time as his father should come and claim him。 In
this advertisement Mr Willet had obstinately persisted； despite the
advice and entreaties of his friends； in describing his son as a
‘young boy；’ and furthermore as being from eighteen inches to a
couple of feet shorter than he really was； two circumstances which
perhaps accounted； in some degree； for its never having been
productive of any other effect than the transmission to Chigwell at
various times and at a vast expense； of some five…and…forty
runaways varying from six years old to twelve。
Mr Cobb and Mr Parkes looked mysteriously at this
composition； at each other； and at old John。 From the time he had
pasted it up with his own hands； Mr Willet had never by word or
sign alluded to the subject； or encouraged any one else to do so。
Nobody had the least notion what his thoughts or opinions were；
connected with it； whether he remembered it or forgot it； whether
he had any idea that such an event had ever taken place。
Therefore； even while he slept； no one ventured to refer to it in his
presence； and for such sufficient reasons； these his chosen friends
were silent now。
Mr Willet had got by this time into such a complication of knots；
that it was perfectly clear he must wake or die。 He chose the
former alternative； and opened his eyes。
‘If he don’t come in five minutes；’ said John； ‘I shall have
supper without him。’
The antecedent of this pronoun had been mentioned for the last
time at eight o’clock。 Messrs Parkes and Cobb being used to this
style of conversation； replied without difficulty that to be sure
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Solomon was very late； and they wondered what had happened to
detain him。 ‘He an’t blown away； I suppose；’ said Parkes。 ‘It’s
enough to carry a man of his figure off his legs； and easy too。 Do
you hear it？ It blows great guns； indeed。 There’ll be many a crash
in the Forest to…night； I reckon； and many a broken branch upon
the ground to…morrow。’
‘It won’t break anything in the Maypole； I take it； sir；’ returned
old John。 ‘Let it try。 I give it leave—what’s that？’
‘The wind；’ cried Parkes。 ‘It’s howling like a Christian； and has
been all night long。’
‘Did you ever； sir；’ asked John； after a minute’s contemplation；
‘hear the wind say “Maypole”？’
‘Why； what man ever did？’ said Parkes。
‘Nor “ahoy；” perhaps？’ added John。
‘No。 Nor that neither。’
‘Very good； sir；’ said Mr Willet； perfectly unmoved； ‘then if that
was the wind just now； and you’ll wait a little time without
speaking； you’ll hear it say both words very plain。’
Mr Willet was right。 After listening for a few moments； they
could clearly hear； above the roar and tumult out of doors； this
shout repeated； and that with a shrillness and energy； which
denoted that it came from some person in great distress or terror。
They looked at each other； turned pale； and held their breath。 No
man stirred。
It was in this emergency that Mr Willet displayed something of
that strength of mind and plenitude of mental resource； which
rendered him the admiration of all his friends and neighbours。
After looking at Messrs Parkes and Cobb for some time in silence；
he clapped his two hands to his cheeks； and sent forth a roar
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which made the glasses dance and rafters ring—a long…sustained；
discordant bellow； that rolled onward with the wind； and startling
every echo； made the night a hundred times more boisterous—a
deep； loud； dismal bray； that sounded like a human gong。 Then；
with every vein in his head and face swollen with the great
exertion； and his countenance suffused with a lively purple； he
drew a little nearer to the fire； and turning his back upon it； said
with dignity：
‘If that’s any comfort to anybody； they’re welcome to it。 If it an’t；
I’m sorry for ’em。 If either of you two gentlemen likes to go out and
see what’s the matter； you can。 I’m not curious； myself。’
While he spoke the cry drew nearer and nearer； footsteps
passed the window； the latch of the door was raised； it opened；
was violently shut again； and Solomon Daisy； with a lighted
lantern in his hand； and the rain streaming from his disordered
dress； dashed into the room。
A more complete picture of terror than the little man presented；
it would be difficult to imagine。 The perspiration stood in beads
upon his face； his knees knocked together； his every limb
trembled； the power of articulation was quite gone； and there he
stood； panting for breath； gazing on them with such livid ashy
looks； that they were infected with his fear； though ignorant of its
occasion； and； reflecting his dismayed and horror…stricken visage；
stared back again without venturing to question him； until old
John Willet； in a fit of temporary insanity； made a dive at his
cravat； and； seizing him by that portion of his dress； shook him to
and fro until his very teeth appeared to rattle in his head。
‘Tell us what’s the matter； sir；’ said John； ‘or I’ll kill you。 Tell us
what’s the matter； sir； or in another second I’ll have your head
Charles Dickens