Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

In which the old Man launches forth into his favourite Theme, and relates a Story about a queer Clie

           

           ‘"Hastenhere,Sir,inGod’sname;help,help,sir,fortheloveofHeaven.Heismyson,Sir,myonlyson!"saidtheoldmanfrantically,asheadvancedtomeethim."Myonlyson,Sir,andheisdyingbeforehisfather’seyes!"

           ‘Atthefirstwordtheoldmanuttered,thestrangercheckedhimselfinhiscareer,and,foldinghisarms,stoodperfectlymotionless.

           ‘"GreatGod!"exclaimedtheoldman,recoiling,"Heyling!"

           ‘Thestrangersmiled,andwassilent.

           ‘"Heyling!"saidtheoldmanwildly;"myboy,Heyling,mydearboy,look,look!"Gaspingforbreath,themiserablefatherpointedtothespotwheretheyoungmanwasstrugglingforlife.

           ‘"Hark!"saidtheoldman."Hecriesoncemore.Heisaliveyet.Heyling,savehim,savehim!"

           ‘Thestrangersmiledagain,andremainedimmovableasastatue.‘"Ihavewrongedyou,"shriekedtheoldman,fallingonhisknees,andclaspinghishandstogether."Berevenged;takemyall,mylife;castmeintothewateratyourfeet,and,ifhumannaturecanrepressastruggle,Iwilldie,withoutstirringhandorfoot.Doit,Heyling,doit,butsavemyboy;heissoyoung,Heyling,soyoungtodie!"

           ‘"Listen,"saidthestranger,graspingtheoldmanfiercelybythewrist;"Iwillhavelifeforlife,andhereisONE.

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