"A fiery devil," retorted Sim; "a flaming, furious devil. Don"tyou put yourself in its way, or you"re done for, my buck. Bewarned in time, G. Varden. Farewell!"
But here the two women threw themselves in his way--especially MissMiggs, who fell upon him with such fervour that she pinned himagainst the wall--and conjured him in moving words not to go forthtill he was sober; to listen to reason; to think of it; to takesome rest, and then determine.
"I tell you," said Mr Tappertit, "that my mind is made up. Mybleeding country calls me and I go! Miggs, if you don"t get out ofthe way, I"ll pinch you."
Miss Miggs, still clinging to the rebel, screamed oncevociferously--but whether in the distraction of her mind, orbecause of his having executed his threat, is uncertain.
"Release me," said Simon, struggling to free himself from herchaste, but spider-like embrace. "Let me go! I have madearrangements for you in an altered state of society, and mean toprovide for you comfortably in life--there! Will that satisfyyou?"
"Oh Simmun!" cried Miss Miggs. "Oh my blessed Simmun! Oh mim!
what are my feelings at this conflicting moment!"
Of a rather turbulent description, it would seem; for her nightcaphad been knocked off in the scuffle, and she was on her knees uponthe floor, making a strange revelation of blue and yellow curl-papers, straggling locks of hair, tags of staylaces, and strings ofit"s impossible to say what; panting for breath, clasping herhands, turning her eyes upwards, shedding abundance of tears, andexhibiting various other symptoms of the acutest mental suffering.
"I leave," said Simon, turning to his master, with an utterdisregard of Miggs"s maidenly affliction, "a box of thingsupstairs. Do what you like with "em. I don"t want "em. I"m nevercoming back here, any more. Provide yourself, sir, with ajourneyman; I"m my country"s journeyman; henceforward that"s MYline of business."
"Be what you like in two hours" time, but now go up to bed,"
returned the locksmith, planting himself in the doorway. "Do youhear me? Go to bed!"
"I hear you, and defy you, Varden," rejoined Simon Tappertit.
"This night, sir, I have been in the country, planning anexpedition which shall fill your bell-hanging soul with wonder anddismay. The plot demands my utmost energy. Let me pass!"
"I"ll knock you down if you come near the door," replied thelocksmith. "You had better go to bed!"
Simon made no answer, but gathering himself up as straight as hecould, plunged head foremost at his old master, and the two wentdriving out into the workshop together, plying their hands and feetso briskly that they looked like half-a-dozen, while Miggs and MrsVarden screamed for twelve.
It would have been easy for Varden to knock his old "prentice down,and bind him hand and foot; but as he was loth to hurt him in histhen defenceless state, he contented himself with parrying hisblows when he could, taking them in perfect good part when he couldnot, and keeping between him and the door, until a favourableopportunity should present itself for forcing him to retreat upstairs,and shutting him up in his own room. But, in the goodnessof his heart, he calculated too much upon his adversary"s weakness,and forgot that drunken men who have lost the power of walkingsteadily, can often run. Watching his time, Simon Tappertit made acunning show of falling back, staggered unexpectedly forward,brushed past him, opened the door (he knew the trick of that lockwell), and darted down the street like a mad dog. The locksmithpaused for a moment in the excess of his astonishment, and thengave chase.