"Yes," said Barnabas, "I will promise, but--on condition that you
henceforth will regard me as a brother. That you will allow me the
privilege of helping you whenever I may, and will always turn to me
in your need. Will you promise me this, Clemency?" And Barnabas held
out his hand.
"Yes," she answered, smiling up into his earnest eyes, "I think I
shall be--proud to--have you for a brother." And she put her hand
into his.
"Ah! so you're a-going, are ye?" demanded the cobbler, disgorging
the last of the nails as Barnabas stepped into the dark little shop.
"Yes," said Barnabas, "and, if you think my boots sufficiently
trustworthy, I should like to shake your hand."
"Eh?" exclaimed the cobbler, "shake 'ands with old Nick, sir? But
you're one o' the Quality, and I 'ates the Quality--chop off their
'eads if I 'ad my way, I would! and my 'and's very dirty--jest
let me wipe it a bit,--there sir, if you wish to! and 'ere's
'oping to see you again. Though, mark you, the Frenchies was quite
right,--there's nothing like the gillertine, I say. Good arternoon, sir."
Then Barnabas went out into the narrow, grimy alley, and closed the
crazy door behind him.
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