Chapter 48 - Page 2

replied. a€˜Why, how you talk! Dona€™t you know his lordship has declared he wona€™t present it to the house at all, unless it is attended to the door by forty thousand good and true men at least? Therea€™s a crowd for you!a€™

a€˜A crowd indeed!a€™ said Barnaby. a€˜Do you hear that, mother!a€™

a€˜And theya€™re mustering yonder, as I am told,a€™ resumed the old man, a€˜nigh upon a hundred thousand strong. Ah! Let Lord George alone. He knows his power. Therea€™ll be a good many faces inside them three windows over there,a€™ and he pointed to where the House of Commons overlooked the river, a€˜thata€™ll turn pale when good Lord George gets up this afternoon, and with reason too! Ay, ay. Let his lordship alone. Let him alone. He knows!a€™ And so, with much mumbling and chuckling and shaking of his forefinger, he rose, with the assistance of his stick, and tottered off.

a€˜Mother!a€™ said Barnaby, a€˜thata€™s a brave crowd he talks of. Come!a€™

a€˜Not to join it!a€™ cried his mother.

a€˜Yes, yes,a€™ he answered, plucking at her sleeve. a€˜Why not? Come!a€™

a€˜You dona€™t know,a€™ she urged, a€˜what mischief they may do, where they may lead you, what their meaning is. Dear Barnaby, for my sakea€"a€™

a€˜For your sake!a€™ he cried, patting her hand. a€˜Well! It is for your sake, mother. You remember what the blind man said, about the gold. Herea€™s a brave crowd! Come! Or wait till I come backa€"yes, yes, wait here.a€™

She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered, to turn him from his purpose, but in vain. He was stooping down to buckle on his shoe, when a hackney-coach passed them rather quickly, and a voice inside called to the driver to stop.

a€˜Young man,a€™ said a voice within.

a€˜Whoa€™s that?a€™ cried Barnaby, looking up.

a€˜Do you wear this ornament?a€™ returned the stranger, holding out a blue cockade.

a€˜In heavena€™s name, no. Pray do not give it him!a€™ exclaimed the widow.

a€˜Speak for yourself, woman,a€™ said the man within the coach, coldly. a€˜Leave the young man to his choice; hea€™s old enough to make it, and to snap your apron-strings. He knows, without your telling, whether he wears the sign of a loyal Englishman or not.a€™

Barnaby, trembling with impatience, cried, a€˜Yes! yes,