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added； shaking the locksmith by the hand； ‘saving the extent of my
gratitude to you； you know as much as I。’
‘Except；’ said Gabriel； bending down yet more； and looking
cautiously towards their silent neighbour； ‘except in respect of the
robber himself。 What like was he； sir？ Speak low； if you please。
Barnaby means no harm； but I have watched him oftener than
you； and I know； little as you would think it； that he’s listening
now。’
It required a strong confidence in the locksmith’s veracity to
lead any one to this belief； for every sense and faculty that
Barnaby possessed； seemed to be fixed upon his game； to the
exclusion of all other things。 Something in the young man’s face
expressed this opinion； for Gabriel repeated what he had just said；
more earnestly than before； and with another glance towards
Barnaby； again asked what like the man was。
‘The night was so dark；’ said Edward； ‘the attack so sudden；
and he so wrapped and muffled up； that I can hardly say。 It seems
that—’
‘Don’t mention his name； sir；’ returned the locksmith； following
his look towards Barnaby； ‘I know he saw him。 I want to know
what you saw。’
‘All I remember is；’ said Edward； ‘that as he checked his horse
his hat was blown off。 He caught it； and replaced it on his head；
which I observed was bound with a dark handkerchief。 A stranger
entered the Maypole while I was there； whom I had not seen—for I
had sat apart for reasons of my own—and when I rose to leave the
room and glanced round； he was in the shadow of the chimney
and hidden from my sight。 But； if he and the robber were two
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different persons； their voices were strangely and most
remarkably alike； for directly the man addressed me in the road； I
recognised his speech again。’
‘It is as I feared。 The very man was here to…night；’ thought the
locksmith； changing colour。 ‘What dark history is this！’
‘Halloa！’ cried a hoarse voice in his ear。 ‘Halloa； halloa； halloa！
Bow wow wow。 What’s the matter here！ Hal…loa！’
The speaker—who made the locksmith start as if he had been
some supernatural agent—was a large raven； who had perched
upon the top of the easy…chair； unseen by him and Edward； and
listened with a polite attention and a most extraordinary
appearance of comprehending every word； to all they had said up
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； h