BARNABY RUDGE - A TALE OF THE RIOTS OF 'EIGHTY by Charles ...

'I'll do nothing to-day,' said Mr Tappertit, dashing it down again,'but grind. I'll grind up all the tools. Grinding will suit mypresent humour well. Joe!'Whirr-r-r-r. The grindstone was soon in motion; the sparks wereflying off in showers. This was the occupation for his heatedspirit.Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r.'Something will come of this!' said Mr Tappertit, pausing as if intriumph, and wiping his heated face upon his sleeve. 'Somethingwill come of this. I hope it mayn't be human gore!'Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r.Chapter 5As soon as the business of the day was over, the locksmith salliedforth, alone, to visit the wounded gentleman and ascertain theprogress of his recovery. The house where he had left him was in aby-street in Southwark, not far from London Bridge; and thither hehied with all speed, bent upon returning with as little delay asmight be, and getting to bed betimes.The evening was boisterous--scarcely better than the previous nighthad been. It was not easy for a stout man like Gabriel to keep hislegs at the street corners, or to make head against the high wind,which often fairly got the better of him, and drove him back somepaces, or, in defiance of all his energy, forced him to takeshelter in an arch or doorway until the fury of the gust was spent.Occasionally a hat or wig, or both, came spinning and trundlingpast him, like a mad thing; while the more serious spectacle of