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score of years to come—if so； I’ll be content to be no farther from
it。 My stars！—a pretty brag this to a stout man—pooh； pooh！’
Gabriel resumed his seat； and looked wistfully up the road by
which the traveller had come； murmuring in a half whisper：
‘The Maypole—two miles to the Maypole。 I came the other road
from the Warren after a long day’s work at locks and bells； on
purpose that I should not come by the Maypole and break my
promise to Martha by looking in—there’s resolution！ It would be
dangerous to go on to London without a light； and it’s four miles；
and a good half mile besides； to the Halfway…House； and between
this and that is the very place where one needs a light most。 Two
miles to the Maypole！ I told Martha I wouldn’t； I said I wouldn’t；
and I didn’t—there’s resolution！’
Repeating these two last words very often； as if to compensate
for the little resolution he was going to show by piquing himself on
the great resolution he had shown； Gabriel Varden quietly turned
back； determining to get a light at the Maypole； and to take
nothing but a light。
When he got to the Maypole； however； and Joe； responding to
his well…known hail； came running out to the horse’s head； leaving
the door open behind him； and disclosing a delicious perspective
of warmth and brightness—when the ruddy gleam of the fire；
streaming through the old red curtains of the common room；
seemed to bring with it； as part of itself； a pleasant hum of voices；
and a fragrant odour of steaming grog and rare tobacco； all
steeped as it were in the cheerful glow—when the shadows； flitting
across the curtain； showed that those inside had risen from their
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Barnaby Rudge 43
snug seats； and were making room in the snuggest corner （how
well he knew that corner！） for the honest locksmith； and a broad
glare； suddenly streaming up； bespoke the goodness of the
crackling log from which a brilliant train of sparks was doubtless
at that moment whirling up the chimney in honour of his
coming—when； superadded to these enticements； there stole upon
him from the distant kitchen a gentle sound of frying； with a
musical clatter of plates and dishes； and a savoury smell that made
even the boisterous wind a perfume—Gabriel felt his firmness
oozing rapidly away。 He tried to look stoically at the tavern； but his
features would relax into a look of fondness。 He turned his head
the other way； and the cold black country seemed to frown him off；
and drive him for a refuge into its hospitable arms。
‘The merciful man； Joe；’ said the locksmith； ‘is merciful to his
beast。 I’ll get out for a little while。’
And how natural it was to get out！ And how unnatural it
seemed for a sober man to be plodding wearily along through miry
roads； encountering the rude buffets of the wind and pelting of the
rain； when there was a clean floor covered with crisp white sand； a
well swept hearth； a blazing fire； a table decorated with white
cloth； bright pewter flagons； and other tempting preparations for a
well…cooked meal—when there were these things； and company
disposed to make the most of them； all ready to his hand； and
entreating him to enjoyment！
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Barnaby Rudge 44
Chapter 3
uch were the locksmith’s thoughts when first seated in the
snug corner； and slowly recovering from a pleasant defect
S
of vision—pleasant； because occasioned by the wind
blowing in his eyes—which made it a matter of sound policy and
duty to himself； that he should take refuge from the weather； and
tempted him； for the same reason； to aggravate a slight cough； and
declare he felt but poorly。 Such were still his thoughts more than a
full hour afterwards； when； supper over； he still sat with shining
jovial face in the same warm nook； listening to the cricket…like
chirrup of little Solomon Daisy； and bearing no unimportant or
slightly respected part in the social gossip round the Maypole fire。
‘I wish he may be an honest man； that’s all；’ said Solomon；
winding up a variety of speculations relative to the stranger；
concerning whom Gabriel had compared notes with the company；
and so raised a grave discussion； ‘I wish he may be an honest
man。’
‘So we all do； I suppose； don’t we？’ observed the locksmith。
‘I don’t；’ said Joe。
‘No！’ cried Gabriel。
‘No。 He struck me with his whip； the coward； when he was
mounted and I afoot； and I should be better pleased that he turned
out what I think him。’
‘And what may that be； Joe？’
‘No good； Mr Varden。 You may shake your head； father； but I
say no good； and will say no good； and I would say no good a
hundred times over； if that would bring him back to have the
drubbing he deserves。’
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Barnaby Rudge 45
‘Hold your tongue； sir；’ said John Willet。
‘I won’t； father。 It’s all along of you that he ventured to do what
he did。 Seeing me treated like a child； and put down like a fool； he
plucks up a heart and has a fling at a fellow that he thinks—and
may well think too—hasn’t a grain of spirit。 But he’s mistaken； as
I’ll show him； and as I’ll show all of you before long。’
‘Does the boy know what he’s a saying of！’ cried the astonished
John Willet。
‘Father；’ returned Joe； ‘I know what I say and mean； well—
better than you do when you hear me。 I can bear with you； but I
cannot bear the contempt that your treating me in the way you do；
brings upon me from others every day。 Look at other young men
of my age。 Have they no liberty； no will； no right to speak？ Are
they obliged to sit mum…chance； and to be ordered about till they
are the laughing…