File:Master Humphrey's clock (1843) (14587111677).jpg

Identifier: masterhumphreysc03dickrich (find matches)
Title: Master Humphrey's clock
Year: 1843 (1840s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870 Cattermole, George, 1800-1868 Browne, Hablot Knight, 1815-1882 Smith, William
Subjects: Gordon Riots, 1780 -- Fiction
Publisher: London, Chapman and Hall
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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driver tarrying to be asked noquestions, they reached the prison without interruption, and, once there, hadhim out, and safe within its gloomy walls, in a twinkling. With eager eyes and strained attention, Mr. Haredale saw him chained,and locked and barred up in his cell. Nay, when he had left the jail, andstood in the free street, without, he felt the iron plates upon the doors, withhis hands, and drew them over the stone wall, to assure himself that it wasreal; and to exult in its being so strong, and rough, and cold. It was notuntil he turned his back upon the jail, and glanced along the empty streets, solifeless and quiet in the bright morning, that he felt the weight upon hisheart; that he knew he was tortured by anxiety for those he had left at home ;and that home itself was but another bead in the long rosary of his regrets. 294 MASTER HUMPHREYS CLOCK. v^-r^d: vSi5v^M^^!wti Jv^ ^--^-fe^:^^;^.^^::^^^-::^;;,;, r\..:i-:v^ii!=:;^iSi^- ■^T^v-^-^i-^- i.ll^I!l 1^/- m;i(j!^;li;;liri
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CHAPTER THE SIXTY-SECOND. The prisoner, left to himself, sat down upon his bedstead : and resting hiselbows on his knees, and his chin upon his hands, remained in that attitudefor hours. It would be hard to say, of what nature his reflections were. Theyhad no distinctness, and, saving for some flashes now and then, no reference tohis condition or the train of circumstances by which it had been brougrit about.The cracks in the pavement of his cell, the chinks in the wall where stone wasjoined to stone, the bars in the window, the iron ring upon the floor,—suchthings as these, subsiding strangely into one another, and awakening an inde-scribable kind of interest and amusement, engrossed his whole mind ; andalthough at the bottom of his every thought there was an uneasy sense ofguilt, and dread of death, he felt no more than that vague consciousness ofit, which a sleeper has of pain. It pursues him through his dreams, gnaws atthe heart of all his fancied pleasures, robs the banquet of

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