Холодний дім

Sharpshooters

           Didn’thetakeusallin?Didn’theoweusimmensesums,allround?Concernme?Whocananythingabouthimconcernmorethanme?Not,mydearfriend,"saysGrandfatherSmallweed,loweringhistone,"thatIwantYOUtobetrayanything.Farfromit.Areyoureadytocome,mydearfriend?""Aye!I’llcomeinamoment.Ipromisenothing,youknow.""No,mydearMr.George;no.""Andyoumeantosayyou’regoingtogivemealifttothisplace,whereveritis,withoutchargingforit?"Mr.Georgeinquires,gettinghishatandthickwash-leathergloves.ThispleasantrysoticklesMr.Smallweedthathelaughs,longandlow,beforethefire.Buteverwhilehelaughs,heglancesoverhisparalyticshoulderatMr.Georgeandeagerlywatcheshimasheunlocksthepadlockofahomelycupboardatthedistantendofthegallery,lookshereandthereuponthehighershelves,andultimatelytakessomethingoutwitharustlingofpaper,foldsit,andputsitinhisbreast.ThenJudypokesMr.Smallweedonce,andMr.SmallweedpokesJudyonce."Iamready,"saysthetrooper,comingback."Phil,youcancarrythisoldgentlemantohiscoach,andmakenothingofhim.""Oh,dearme!OLord!Stopamoment!"saysMr.Smallweed."He’ssoveryprompt!Areyousureyoucandoitcarefully,myworthyman?"Philmakesnoreply,butseizingthechairanditsload,sidlesaway,tightlyhuggedbythenowspeechlessMr.Smallweed,andboltsalongthepassageasifhehadanacceptablecommissiontocarrytheoldgentlemantothenearestvolcano

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