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long。—Why don’t you come？’
‘Where？’
‘Upstairs。 He wants you。 Stay—where’s his shadow？ Come。
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You’re a wise man； tell me that。’
‘Beside him； Barnaby； beside him； I suppose；’ returned the
locksmith。
‘No！’ he replied； shaking his head。 ‘Guess again。’
‘Gone out a walking； maybe？’
‘He has changed shadows with a woman；’ the idiot whispered in
his ear； and then fell back with a look of triumph。 ‘Her shadow’s
always with him； and his with her。 That’s sport I think； eh？’
‘Barnaby；’ said the locksmith； with a grave look； ‘come hither；
lad。’
‘I know what you want to say。 I know！’ he replied； keeping away
from him。 ‘But I’m cunning； I’m silent。 I only say so much to you—
are you ready？’ As he spoke； he caught up the light； and waved it
with a wild laugh above his head。
‘Softly—gently；’ said the locksmith； exerting all his influence to
keep him calm and quiet。 ‘I thought you had been asleep。’
‘So I have been asleep；’ he rejoined； with widely…opened eyes。
‘There have been great faces coming and going—close to my face；
and then a mile away—low places to creep through； whether I
would or no—high churches to fall down from—strange creatures
crowded up together neck and heels； to sit upon the bed—that’s
sleep； eh？’
‘Dreams； Barnaby； dreams；’ said the locksmith。
‘Dreams！’ he echoed softly； drawing closer to him。 ‘Those are
not dreams。’
‘What are；’ replied the locksmith； ‘if they are not？’
‘I dreamed；’ said Barnaby； passing his arm through Varden’s；
and peering close into his face as he answered in a whisper； ‘I
dreamed just now that something—it was in the shape of a man—
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followed me—came softly after me—wouldn’t let me be—but was
always hiding and crouching； like a cat in dark corners； waiting till
I should pass； when it crept out and came softly after me。—Did
you ever see me run？’
‘Many a time； you know。’
‘You never saw me run as I did in this dream。 Still it came
creeping on to worry me。 Nearer； nearer； nearer—I ran faster—
leaped—sprung out of bed； and to the window—and there； in the
street below—but he is waiting for us。 Are you coming？’
‘What in the street below； Barnaby？’ said Varden； imagining
that he traced some connection between this vision and what had
actually occurred。
Barnaby looked into his face； muttered incoherently； waved the
light above his head again； laughed； and drawing the locksmith’s
arm more tightly through his own； led him up the stairs in silence。
They entered a homely bedchamber； garnished in a scanty way
with chairs； whose spindle…shanks bespoke their age； and other
furniture of very little worth； but clean and neatly kept。 Reclining
in an easy…chair before the fire； pale and weak from waste of
blood； was Edward Chester； the young gentleman who had been
the first to quit the Maypole on the previous night； and who；
extending his hand to the locksmith； welcomed him as his
preserver and friend。
‘Say no more； sir； say no more；’ said Gabriel。 ‘I hope I would
have done at least as much for any man in such a strait； and most
of all for you； sir。 A certain young lady；’ he added； with some
hesitation； ‘has done us many a kind turn； and we naturally feel—I
hope I give you no offence in saying this； sir？’
The young man smiled and shook his head； at the same time
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moving in his chair as if in pain。
‘It’s no great matter；’ he said； in answer to the locksmith’s
sympathising look； ‘a mere uneasiness arising at least as much
from being cooped up here； as from the slight wound I have； or
from the loss of blood。 Be seated； Mr Varden。’
‘If I may make so bold； Mr Edward； as to lean upon your chair；’
returned the locksmith； accommodating his action to his speech；
and bending over him； ‘I’ll stand here for the convenience of
speaking low。 Barnaby is not in his quietest humour to…night； and
at such times talking never does him good。’
They both glanced at the subject of this remark； who had taken
a seat on the other side of the fire； and； smiling vacantly； was
making puzzles on his fingers with a skein of string。
‘Pray； tell me； sir；’ said Varden； dropping his voice still lower；
‘exactly what happened last night。 I have my reason for inquiring。
You left the Maypole； alone？’
‘And walked homeward alone； until I had nearly reached the
place where you found me； when I heard the gallop of a horse。’
‘Behind you？’ said the locksmith。
‘Indeed； yes—behind me。 It was a single rider； who soon
overtook me； and checking his horse； inquired the way to London。’
‘You were on the alert； sir； knowing how many highwaymen
there are； scouring the roads in all directions？’ said Varden。
‘I was； but I had only a stick； having imprudently left my pistols
in their holster…case with the landlord’s son。 I directed him as he
desired。 Before the words had passed my lips； he rode upon me
furiously； as if bent on trampling me down beneath his horse’s
hoofs。 In starting aside； I slipped and fell。 You found me with this
stab and an ugly bruise or two； and without my purse—in which
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he found little enough for his pains。 And now； Mr Varden；’ he
added； shaking the locksmith by the hand； ‘saving the extent of my
gratitude to you； you know as much as I。’
‘Except；’ said Gabriel； b