staff of a London paper.  “Barnaby Rudge,” the fifth of
     Dickens’s novels, appeared serially in “Master Humphrey’s
     Clock” during 1841.  It thus followed “The Old Curiosity Shop,”
     the character of Master Humphrey being revived merely to
     introduce the new story, and on its conclusion “The Clock” was
     stopped for ever.  In 1849 “Barnaby Rudge” was published in
     book form.  Written primarily to express the author’s
     abhorrence of capital punishment, from the use he made of the
     Gordon Riots of 1780, “Barnaby Rudge,” like “A Tale of Two
     Cities,” may be considered an historical work.  It is more of a
     story than any of its predecessors.  Lord George Gordon, the
     instigator of the riots, died a prisoner in the Tower of
     London, after making public renunciation of Christianity in
     favour of the Jewish religion.  “The raven in this story,” said
     Dickens, “is a compound of two originals, of whom I have been
     the proud possessor.”  Dickens died at Gad’s Hill on June 9,
     1870, having written fourteen novels and a great number of
     short stories and sketches.

I.—­Barnaby and the Robber

In the year 1775 there stood upon the borders of Epping Forest, in the village of Chigwell, about twelve miles from London, a house of public entertainment called the Maypole, kept by John Willet, a large-headed man with a fat face, of profound obstinacy and slowness of apprehension, combined with a very strong reliance upon his own merits.

From this inn, Gabriel Varden, stout-hearted old locksmith of Clerkenwell, jogged steadily home on a chaise, half sleeping and half waking, on a certain rough evening in March.

A loud cry roused him with a start, just where London begins, and he descried a man extended in an apparently lifeless state wounded upon the pathway, and, hovering round him, another person, with a torch in his hand, which he waved in the air with a wild impatience.

“What’s here to do?” said the old locksmith.  “How’s this?  What, Barnaby!  You know me, Barnaby?”

The bearer of the torch nodded, not once or twice, but a score of times, with a fantastic exaggeration.

“How came it here?” demanded Varden, pointing to the body.

“Steel, steel, steel!” Barnaby replied fiercely, imitating the thrust of a sword.

“Is he robbed?” said the blacksmith.

Barnaby caught him by the arm, and nodded “Yes,” pointing towards the city.

“Oh!” said the old man.  “The robber made off that way, did he?  Now let’s see what can be done.”

They covered the wounded man with Varden’s greatcoat, and carried him to Mrs. Rudge’s house hard by.  On his way home Gabriel congratulated himself on having an adventure which would silence Mrs. Varden on the subject of the Maypole for that night, or there was no faith in woman.