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she saw the forms of her dead children and dead grandchildren peopling the barge, and waving their hands to her in solemn measure; then, as the rope tightened and came up, dropping diamonds, it seemed to vibrate into two parallel ropes and strike her, with a twang, though it was far off. When she looked again, there was no barge, no river, no daylight, and a man whom she had never before seen held a candle close to her face. Now, Missis, said he; where did you come from and where are you going to? The poor soul confusedly asked the counter-question where she was? I am the Lock, said the man. The Lock? I am the Deputy Lock, on job, and this is the Lock-house. (Lock or Deputy Lock, its all one, while the tother mans in the hospital.) Whats your Parish? Parish! She was up from the truckle-bed directly, wildly feeling about her for her basket, and gazing at him in affright. Youll be asked the question down town, said the man. They wont let you be more than a Casual there. Theyll pass you on to your settlement, Missis, with all speed. Youre not in a state to be let come upon strange parishes ceptin as a Casual. Twas the deadness again! murmured Betty Higden, with her hand to her head. It was the deadness, theres not a doubt about it, returned the man. I should have thought the deadness was a mild word for it, if it had been named to me when we brought you in. Have you got any friends, Missis? The best of friends, Master. I should recommend your looking em up if you consider em game to do anything for you, said the Deputy Lock. Have you got any money? Just a morsel of money, sir. Do you want to keep it? Sure I do! Well, you know, said the Deputy Lock, shrugging his shoulders with his hands in his pockets, and shaking his head in a sulkily ominous manner, the parish authorities down town will have it out of you, if you go on, you may take your Alfred David. Then Ill not go on. Theyll make you pay, as fur as your money will go, pursued the Deputy, for your relief as a Casual and for your being passed to your Parish. 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 whats your hurry, Missis? Oh, Master, Master, returned Betty Higden. Ive fought against the Parish and fled from it, all my life, and I want to die free of it! |
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