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The Mystery of Edwin Drood

Chapter 5 MR. DURDLES AND FRIEND

Word Count: 2281    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

ck against the iron railing of the burial-ground enclosing it from the old cloister-arches; and a hideous small boy in rags flinging stones at him a

ap, convenient for the purpose, in the front of his mouth, where half his teeth are wanting; and whenever he mi

demands Jasper, stepping out in

of him,' replies th

se stones in

ching hold of me,' says the small boy, shaking himself loos

ou are, what has t

n't go

s that

,' says the boy. And then chants, like a little savage, half stumblin

y wid

s-Im-out-

widd

n't-go-th

y Wake-coc

p on the last word, and on

ion, agreed upon, as a caution to Durdles to stan

eeling it hopeless to drag him, or coax him), and crosses to the iro

ld?' asks Jasper, at a loss for a

ays Durdles

t its-h

' assent

s man-servants at Travellers' Lodgings is named Deputy. When we're chock full and the Travellers i

y wid

es-Im-ou

stand so near him, or I'll kill you! Come, Durdles; let m

the moonlight. 'Mrs. Sapsea;' introducing the monument of that devoted wife. 'Late Incumbent;' introducing the Reverend Gentleman's broken column. 'Departed Assessed Taxes;' introducing a vase and towel, standing on what might represent the cake of soa

hind us,' says Jasper, lookin

Durdles's turning himself about with the slow gravity of beery suddenness,

begun to-night,' says Durdles, unexpecte

eputy, in his only form

s unexpectedly forgetting his offence as he had recalled or conceived it

kes aim?' Mr. J

ut destruction. What did he earn by it? Short terms in Cloisterham jail. Not a person, not a piece of property, not a winder, not a horse, nor a dog, nor a cat, nor a bird, nor a fow

e has no co

f mine comes to,' pursues Durdles, considering about it with the same sodden gravity; 'I don

ay not,' re

ts Durdles; 'then we won'

peats Jasper, looking over his

penny, if we go the short way, which is the back

d invading the silence of the hour and place by stoning every wa

down in the crypt, Durd

mean,' growls Durdles. 'I

very on your p

made him out yet) to be one of them old 'uns with a crook. To judge from the size of the passages in the walls, and of the steps and doors, by which they come and went,

is companion-covered from head to foot with old mortar, lime, and stone grit-as t

a curious

ether he receives this as a compliment or as quite th

n your connection with the Cathedral than in mine. Indeed, I am beginning to have some idea of asking you to take me on as a sort of stude

Durdles, when he's wanted.' Which, if not strictly true, is approximately so, if ta

t, 'is the remarkable accuracy with which you would seem to find out where peop

vements, immediately skirmishing into the road), and was looking about f

er out of that,' says Dur

And his hammer

u pitch your note, do

es

ng that his head may be in requisition.) 'I tap, tap, tap. Solid! I go on tapping. Solid still! Tap again. Holloa! Hollow! Tap again, persevering. Solid i

onis

discovered, which may somehow lead to his own enrichment, and the delicious treat of the discoverers being hanged by the neck, on his evidence, until th

lly Mrs.

epresented by that hammer, and says, after good sounding: "Something betwixt us!" Su

hat such accura

good part. 'I worked it out for myself. Durdles comes by his knowledge through grubbing

s shrill response,

e see any more of you to-night, after

e halfpenny, and appearing by this mystic w

l warped and distorted, like the morals of the travellers, with scant remains of a lattice-work porch over the door, and also of a rustic fence before its stamped-out garden; by reason of the travellers being so bound to the premises by a

in the close air of the inside. As Durdles and Jasper come near, they are addressed by an inscribed paper lantern over the door, setting forth the purport of the house. They are also addressed by some half-dozen other hideous small boys-whether

s,' cries Jasper angri

he police regulations of our English communities, where Christians are stoned on all sides, as if the days of Saint Stephen were r

ell of 'Wake-Cock! Warning!' followed by a crow, as from some infernally-hatched Chanticleer, apprising him under whose victorious fire he stands, he turns the corner

iar-looking pipe, which he fills-but not with tobacco-and, having adjusted the contents of the bowl, very carefully, with a little instrument, ascends an

pipe in his hand, for some time, with a fixed and deep attention. Then, hushing his footsteps, he p

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