4

ILLUSTRATIONS.

<table><thead><tr><th>PLATE.</th><th></th><th>PAGE.</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>VIII.</td><td>Quilp and his mother-in-law</td><td>96</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“I shall go when I please, Quilp, and not before.”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“But please to go now,” said the dwarf.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>IX.</td><td>Quilp separating the combatants</td><td>111</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“I’ll stop ’em,” cried Quilp, returning with a thick stick: “I’ll stop ’em. Now my boys, fight away. I’ll fight you both. I’ll take both of you, both together, both together!”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>X.</td><td>Mr. Swiveller and Miss Sophia Wackles</td><td>127</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Swiveller lingered for a moment to exchange a few parting words. “My boat is on the shore, and my bark is on the sea; but before I pass this door, I will say farewell to thee.”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XI.</td><td>The old man and Quilp</td><td>139</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“Do not desert me now.” The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XII.</td><td>The old man and Nell at the cottager’s</td><td>174</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“God save you, master,” said the old cottager, “are you traveling far?” “Yes, sir, a long way,” replied the child.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XIII.</td><td>Punch and Judy at the inn</td><td>179</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>The whole house hurried away into an empty stable, where the show stood, and the performance was applauded to the echo.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XIV.</td><td>Little Nell selling flowers</td><td>200</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>There was but one lady who seemed to understand the child, she called her towards her, and taking her flowers, put money into her trembling hand.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XV.</td><td>Nell and the old man resting</td><td>224</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>It was not until they were quite exhausted that they ventured to stop and rest upon the borders of a little wood.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XVI.</td><td>Kit’s liberality</td><td>214</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Kit met a lad in a beaverless hat, an exact counterpart of his old one, on whom he bestowed half the sixpence he possessed.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XVII.</td><td>Scenes at the schoolmaster’s</td><td>234</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“My grandson’s dying: this is what his learning has brought him to. Oh dear, what can I do!” “Do not say that I am in any fault,” urged the gentle schoolmaster.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XVIII.</td><td>Mr. Slum’s unexpected appearance</td><td>249</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“What, Mr. Slum!” cried the wax-work lady, “lar! who’d have thought of seeing you here?” “Upon my soul and honour,” said Mr. Slum, “that’s a good remark,—who would have thought it?”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XIX.</td><td>The Old Man counting the money</td><td>264</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>The door was partly open. What sight was that which met her view! At the table sat the old man counting the money of which his hands had robbed her.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XX.</td><td>Miss Monflathers at a party</td><td>274</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Miss Monflathers was flourishing in London, and damaging the hearts of middle-aged gentlemen.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXI.</td><td>The Oyster Supper</td><td>vol. ii. 12</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>They ate and laughed and enjoyed themselves so thoroughly, that it did Kit good to see them, and made him laugh and eat likewise, from strong sympathy.</td><td></td></tr></tbody></table>

ILLUSTRATIONS.

5

<table><thead><tr><th>PLATE.</th><th></th><th>PAGE.</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>XXII.</td><td>—“ Stay Satan, Stay !”</td><td>22</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Roared the preacher again. “Tempt not the woman that doth incline her ear to thee, but hearken to the voice of him that calleth. He beareth off a lamb, a precious lamb!”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXIII.</td><td>—Swiveller displaying his accomplishments</td><td>vol. i.</td><td>298</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Mr. Swiveller relieved the tedium of his confinement by balancing stools upon his chin, and pen-knives on his nose, and a hundred other feats of equal ingenuity.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXIV.</td><td>—Mr. Swiveller and Quilp</td><td>vol. ii.</td><td>76</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“Ha!” said Quilp, “it will be our turn to giggle soon. And that reminds me—you spoke of young Trent—where is he?” Mr. Swiveller explained. “That’s unfortunate,” said the Dwarf.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXV.</td><td>—The Wanderers asleep</td><td></td><td>32</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Long after the old man was slumbering soundly, Nell watched him with untiring eyes. Fatigue stole over her at last; her grasp relaxed, and they slept side by side.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXVI.</td><td>—“Here woman, here’s your deaf and dumb son”</td><td></td><td>47</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“And won’t you give me back my son!” said another woman. “Won’t you give me back my son, sir, who was transported for the same offence?”</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXVII.</td><td>—Incidents in Nell’s Journey</td><td></td><td>54</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Nell fainting on the road; —passing the Village Inn; —the Schoolmaster’s appointed residence.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXVIII.</td><td>—Nell musing on the past</td><td></td><td>88</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>The child lingered before the dying embers, and thought of her past fortunes as if they had been a dream, and she only now awoke.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXIX.</td><td>—The Schoolmaster’s Introduction to his Scholars</td><td></td><td>91</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>A long row of urchins, great and small, fall into various convulsions of politeness, clutching their hats and caps, making all manner of bows and scrapes, which the old gentleman contemplated with excessive satisfaction.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXX.</td><td>—The Grave-diggers and Nell</td><td></td><td>98</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Pausing from his work he leant upon his spade, and put his hand to his dull ear: “Did you call?” he said. “I have been thinking, Davy,” replied the sexton, “that she,” he pointed to the grave, “must have been a deal older than you or me.”</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXXI.</td><td>—Nell’s Illness</td><td></td><td>105</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>The child exhausted, would pass whole evenings on a couch beside the fire, and the Schoolmaster would bring in books and read to her aloud.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXXII.</td><td>—Swiveller’s Sketches</td><td></td><td>118</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Mr. Swiveller got upon his stool and tried his hand at drawing caricatures of Miss Brass, with a pen and ink.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXXIII.</td><td>—Swiveller finding the Note</td><td></td><td>132</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Kit turned his head and saw Dick standing with the Bank-note in his hand. “In the hat!” cried Brass. “Under the handkerchief and tucked beneath the lining,” said Dick, aghast at the discovery.</td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>XXXIV.</td><td>—Kit’s Trial</td><td></td><td>153</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Up comes Mr. Brass, whose appearance was as much as to say, “Here I am full of evidence—tap me!”</td><td></td><td></td></tr></tbody></table>

ILLUSTRATIONS.

7

<table><thead><tr><th>PLATE.</th><th></th><th>PAGE.</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>XLIX.</td><td>—The Stranger questioned</td><td>22</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>At last, one man—he was of those whose commerce lay among the graves—resolved to question this strange companion.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>L.</td><td>—The Stranger scrutinizing Barnaby</td><td>32</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>He advanced, and bending down over the prostrate form, softly turned back the head and looked into the face. The light of the fire was upon it and its every lineament was revealed distinctly.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LI.</td><td>—Mrs. Rudge's passage through Chigwell</td><td>74</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>She took his arm, and they hurried through the village street. The people all knew Barnaby, and the children of the place came flocking round him.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LII.</td><td>—Chester cajoling Mrs. Varden</td><td>92</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>With that he took Mrs. Varden's hand again, and having pressed it to his lips with the high-flown gallantry of the day, proceeded in the same strain of mingled sophistry, cajolery and flattery.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LIII.</td><td>—Mr. Chester's interview with Miss Haredale</td><td>103</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>She turned away and burst into tears. “I would,” said Mr. Chester, leaning over her, and speaking in mild and quite venerable accents, “I would, dear girl, it were my task to banish, not to increase, those tokens of your grief.”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LIV.</td><td>—Joe Willet enlisting</td><td>115</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Joe inquired for his friend the serjeant, who, expecting no man less, received him with open arms. In the course of five minutes he was enrolled among the gallant defenders of his native land.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LV.</td><td>—Lord George lamenting over his unhappy country</td><td>144</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“Doubt!—No. Who says I doubt? If I doubted should I cast away relatives, friends, everything for this unhappy country's sake, —this unhappy country,” he cried, springing up in bed.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LVI.</td><td>—Lord George Gordon's passage into London</td><td>148</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Sitting bolt upright upon his bony steed, with his long straight hair dangling about his face, and fluttering in the wind; his limbs all angular and rigid, his elbows stuck out on either side ungracefully; a more grotesque or more ungainly figure can hardly be conceived.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LVII.</td><td>—The locksmith's shop</td><td>169</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>There he stood working at his anvil, (beside him sat a sleek cat: Toby looked on from a tall bench hard by) one beaming smile from his broad nut-brown face down to the buckles in his shoes.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LVIII.</td><td>—Tappertit, Hugh and Dennis</td><td>162</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>The three went staggering on, arm in arm, shouting like madmen, and defying the watch with great valour.</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LIX.</td><td>—Stagg exciting Barnaby's desire for gold</td><td>201</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>“Tell me,” said Barnaby, “Is there any way of being rich, that I could find out?”—“Any way! A hundred ways.”</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>LX.</td><td>—The Magistrate threatening Barnaby and his mother</td><td>205</td></tr><tr><td>LXI.</td><td>—Hugh and Barnaby in the House of Commons</td><td>222</td></tr><tr><td></td><td>Without the delay of an instant, Hugh threw himself headlong over the bannisters into the lobby below. He had hardly touched the ground when Barnaby was at his side.</td><td></td></tr></tbody></table>

ILLUSTRATIONS.

<table>
  <thead>
    <tr>
      <th>PLATE.</th>
      <th></th>
      <th>PAGE.</th>
    </tr>
  </thead>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>LXII.</td>
      <td>Barnaby at the Gordon Riots<br>The soldier came spurring on, making his horse rear as the people pressed about him, cutting at the hands of those who would have grasped his rein, and waving his comrades to follow—still Barnaby, without retreating an inch, waited for his coming.</td>
      <td>213</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXIII.</td>
      <td>Tappertit's patriotic devotion<br>"I tell you," said Mr. Tappertit, "that my mind is made up. My bleeding country calls me, and I go!"</td>
      <td>233</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXIV.</td>
      <td>"Are you alone in this house?"<br>By and by John heard a hurried yet cautious footstep coming towards the house. It came beneath the window, and a head looked in. A pale, worn, withered face: the eyes large and bright; the hair a grizzled black. It gave a searching glance all round the room, and a deep voice said, "Are you alone in this house?"</td>
      <td>253</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXV.</td>
      <td>Haredale seizing the murderer<br>"You, Rudge, double murderer, monster, I arrest you in the name of God, who has delivered you into my hands. Nay, though you had the strength of twenty men," he added, as he writhed and struggled, "you could not escape me, or loosen my grasp to-night."</td>
      <td>264</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXVI.</td>
      <td>Tappertit's vow of love to Dolly<br>"Yes, beautiful Dolly—charmer—enslaver—S. Tappertit is all your own!"</td>
      <td>282</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXVII.</td>
      <td>The rioters burning Newgate<br>Others besieged the house on which the jailer had appeared, and driving in the door, brought out his furniture, and piled it up against the prison gate, to make a bonfire that should burn it down.</td>
      <td>310</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXIII.</td>
      <td>Dennis about to betray his comrades<br>The front of the shed was suddenly darkened, and Dennis stood before them. "No offence! no offence!" said that personage, in a conciliatory tone, "No offence! brother. Barnaby here too, eh? How are you Barnaby? And two other gentlemen! Your humble servant, gentlemen. No offence to you either, I hope, eh! brothers?"</td>
      <td>340</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXIX.</td>
      <td>Young Chester denied his father's house<br>"Think better of it, sir. Although you have thrice within so many weeks, turned your lawful son, Mr. Edward, from your door, you may have time, you may have years, to make your peace with him, Sir John."</td>
      <td>380</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>LXX.</td>
      <td>The Maypole in 1785<br>It was not very long before a red-faced little boy was seen staggering about the Maypole passage, and kicking up his heels upon the green before the door.</td>
      <td>418</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>