"Yes," she answered, smiling up into his earnest eyes, "I think I
shall be--proud to--have you for a brother." And she put her hand
into his.
"Ah! so you're a-going, are ye?" demanded the cobbler, disgorging
the last of the nails as Barnabas stepped into the dark little shop.
"Yes," said Barnabas, "and, if you think my boots sufficiently
trustworthy, I should like to shake your hand."
"Eh?" exclaimed the cobbler, "shake 'ands with old Nick, sir? But
you're one o' the Quality, and I 'ates the Quality--chop off their
'eads if I 'ad my way, I would! and my 'and's very dirty--jest
let me wipe it a bit,--there sir, if you wish to! and 'ere's
'oping to see you again. Though, mark you, the Frenchies was quite
right,--there's nothing like the gillertine, I say. Good arternoon, sir."
Then Barnabas went out into the narrow, grimy alley, and closed the
crazy door behind him. But he had not gone a dozen yards when he
heard Clemency calling his name, and hastened back.
"Mr. Beverley," said she, "I want to ask you--something else--about
my father--"
"Yes," said Barnabas, as she hesitated.
"Does he think I am--does he know that--though I ran away with--a
beast, I--ran away--from him, also,--does he know--?"
"He knows you for the sweet, pure woman you are," said Barnabas as
she fell silent again, "he knows the truth, and lives but to find
you again--my sister!" Now, when he said this, Barnabas saw within
her tearful eyes the light of a joy unutterable; so he bared his head
and, turning about, strode quickly away up the alley.
Being come into the narrow, dingy street, he suddenly espied Mr. Shrig
who leaned against a convenient post and stared with round eyes at
the tumble-down houses opposite, while upon his usually placid brow
he wore a frown of deep perplexity.
"So you followed me?" exclaimed Barnabas.
"V'y, sir, since you mention it,--I did take that 'ere liberty. This
is a werry on-savory neighborhood at most times, an' the air's werry
bad for--fob-seals, say,--and cravat-sparklers at all times. Sich
things 'as a 'abit o' wanishing theirselves avay." Having said which,
Mr. Shrig walked on beside Barnabas as one who profoundly meditates,
for his brow was yet furrowed deep with thought.
"Why so silent, Mr. Shrig?" inquired Barnabas as they crossed
Blackfriars Bridge.
"Because I'm vorking out a problem, sir. For some time I've been
trying to add two and two together, and now I'm droring my
conclusions. So you know Old Nick the cobbler, do you, sir?"
"I didn't--an hour ago."
"Sir, when you vos in his shop, I took the liberty o' peeping in at
the winder."
"Indeed?"
"And I seen that theer 'andsome gal."
"Oh, did you?"
"I likewise 'eered her call your name--Beverley, I think?"