'You shall not leave me!' cried the old man. 'I am strong enough to cry
out to the neighbours, and I will, unless you give her up. Give her up
to me!'
Jonas was so dismayed and conscience-stricken, that he had not even
hardihood enough to unclench the old man's hands with his own; but stood
looking at him as well as he could in the darkness, without moving a
finger. It was as much as he could do to ask him what he meant.
'I will know what you have done with her!' retorted Chuffey. 'If you
hurt a hair of her head, you shall answer it. Poor thing! Poor thing!
Where is she?'
'Why, you old madman!' said Jonas, in a low voice, and with trembling
lips. 'What Bedlam fit has come upon you now?'
'It is enough to make me mad, seeing what I have seen in this house!'
cried Chuffey. 'Where is my dear old master! Where is his only son that
I have nursed upon my knee, a child! Where is she, she who was the last;
she that I've seen pining day by day, and heard weeping in the dead of
night! She was the last, the last of all my friends! Heaven help me, she
was the very last!'
Seeing that the tears were stealing down his face, Jonas mustered
courage to unclench his hands, and push him off before he answered:
'Did you hear me ask for her? Did you hear me send for her? How can I
give you up what I haven't got, idiot! Ecod, I'd give her up to you and
welcome, if I could; and a precious pair you'd be!'
'If she has come to any harm,' cried Chuffey, 'mind! I'm old and silly;
but I have my memory sometimes; and if she has come to any harm--'
'Devil take you,' interrupted Jonas, but in a suppressed voice still;
'what harm do you suppose she has come to? I know no more where she is
than you do; I wish I did.
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