Then with recovered energy he proceeded:
'But the accursed harvest of our mistaken lives shall be trodden down.
It is not too late for that. You are confronted with this man, you
monster there; not to be spared, but to be dealt with justly. Hear what
he says! Reply, be silent, contradict, repeat, defy, do what you please.
My course will be the same. Go on! And you,' he said to Chuffey, 'for
the love of your old friend, speak out, good fellow!'
'I have been silent for his love!' cried the old man. 'He urged me to
it. He made me promise it upon his dying bed. I never would have spoken,
but for your finding out so much. I have thought about it ever since;
I couldn't help that; and sometimes I have had it all before me in
a dream; but in the day-time, not in sleep. Is there such a kind of
dream?' said Chuffey, looking anxiously in old Martin's face.
As Martin made him an encouraging reply, he listened attentively to his
voice, and smiled.
'Ah, aye!' he cried. 'He often spoke to me like that. We were at school
together, he and I. I couldn't turn against his son, you know--his only
son, Mr Chuzzlewit!'
'I would to Heaven you had been his son!' said Martin.
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