Chapter 41 - Page 2

Tink, tink, tink. The locksmith paused at last, and wiped his brow. The silence roused the cat, who, jumping softly down, crept to the door, and watched with tiger eyes a bird-cage in an opposite window. Gabriel lifted Toby to his mouth, and took a hearty draught.

Then, as he stood upright, with his head flung back, and his portly chest thrown out, you would have seen that Gabriela€™s lower man was clothed in military gear. Glancing at the wall beyond, there might have been espied, hanging on their several pegs, a cap and feather, broadsword, sash, and coat of scarlet; which any man learned in such matters would have known from their make and pattern to be the uniform of a sergeant in the Royal East London Volunteers.

As the locksmith put his mug down, empty, on the bench whence it had smiled on him before, he glanced at these articles with a laughing eye, and looking at them with his head a little on one side, as though he would get them all into a focus, said, leaning on his hammer, a€˜Time was, now, I remember, when I was like to run mad with the desire to wear a coat of that colour. If any one (except my father) had called me a fool for my pains, how I should have fired and fumed! But what a fool I must have been, sure-ly!a€™

a€˜Ah!a€™ sighed Mrs Varden, who had entered unobserved. a€˜A fool indeed. A man at your time of life, Varden, should know better now.a€™

a€˜Why, what a ridiculous woman you are, Martha,a€™ said the locksmith, turning round with a smile.

a€˜Certainly,a€™ replied Mrs V. with great demureness. a€˜Of course I am. I know that, Varden. Thank you.a€™

a€˜I meana€"a€™ began the locksmith.

a€˜Yes,a€™ said his wife, a€˜I know what you mean. You speak quite plain enough to be understood, Varden. Ita€™s very kind of you to adapt yourself to my capacity, I am sure.a€™

a€˜Tut, tut, Martha,a€™ rejoined the locksmith; a€˜dona€™t take offence at nothing. I mean, how strange it is of you to run down volunteering, when ita€™s done to defend you and all the other women, and our own fireside and everybody elsea€™s, in case of need.a€™

a€˜Ita€™s unchristian,a€™ cried Mrs Varden, shaking her head.

a€˜Unchristian!a€™ said the locksmith. a€˜Why, what the devila€"a€™

Mrs Varden looked at the ceiling, as in expectation that the consequence of this profanity would be the immediate descent of the four-post bedstead on the second floor, together with the best sitting-room on the first; but no visible judgment occurring, she heaved a deep sigh, and begged her