BOOK THE THIRD: A LONG LANE
Chapter 8: The End of a Long Journey (continued)
'Thank ye kindly, Master, for your warning, thank ye for your
shelter, and good night.'
'Stop a bit,' said the Deputy, striking in between her and the door.
'Why are you all of a shake, and what's your hurry, Missis?'
'Oh, Master, Master,' returned Betty Higden, I've fought against the
Parish and fled from it, all my life, and I want to die free of it!'
'I don't know,' said the Deputy, with deliberation, 'as I ought to let
you go. I'm a honest man as gets my living by the sweat of my
brow, and I may fall into trouble by letting you go. I've fell into
trouble afore now, by George, and I know what it is, and it's made
me careful. You might be took with your deadness again, half a
mile off--or half of half a quarter, for the matter of that--and then it
would be asked, Why did that there honest Deputy Lock, let her
go, instead of putting her safe with the Parish? That's what a man
of his character ought to have done, it would be argueyfied,' said
the Deputy Lock, cunningly harping on the strong string of her
terror; 'he ought to have handed her over safe to the Parish. That
was to be expected of a man of his merits.'
As he stood in the doorway, the poor old careworn wayworn
woman burst into tears, and clasped her hands, as if in a very
agony she prayed to him.
'As I've told you, Master, I've the best of friends. This letter will
show how true I spoke, and they will be thankful for me.'
The Deputy Lock opened the letter with a grave face, which
underwent no change as he eyed its contents. But it might have
done, if he could have read them.
'What amount of small change, Missis,' he said, with an abstracted
air, after a little meditation, 'might you call a morsel of money?'
Hurriedly emptying her pocket, old Betty laid down on the table, a
shilling, and two sixpenny pieces, and a few pence.
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