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And now, mingled with his pity, Barnabas was conscious of a growing respect for this pleasant, small gentleman, and began to understand why a man might seek the "shorter way," yet be no great coward after all. So Mr. Bimby chattered on and Barnabas listened until the day declined to evening; until Barnabas began to hearken for Peterby's returning footstep on the uncarpeted stair outside.
Even in the act of lighting the candles his ears were acutely on the stretch, and thus he gradually became aware of another sound, soft and dull, yet continuous, a sound difficult to locate. But as he stood staring into the flame of the candle he had just lighted, striving meanwhile to account for and place this noise, Mr. Bimby rose and lifted a thin, arresting hand.
Bimby, now, a nice little gent, but doleful like 'is flute, 'e's always 'ungry 'e is, I'll take my oath shouldn't wonder if 'e don't come to it one o' these days. And talking of 'im I must be going, sir, and thank you kindly, I'm sure." "Why, then," said Barnabas as she bobbed him another curtsy, "will you ask Mr. Bimby if he will do me the pleasure to step down and take supper with me?"
"Sir," said he, "do you hear anything?" "Yes. I was wondering what it could be." "I think I can tell you, sir," said Mr. Bimby, pointing to a certain part of the cracked and blackened ceiling; "it is up there, in my room listen!"
And now, all at once Barnabas started and caught his breath, for from the floor above came a soft trampling as of unshod feet, yet the feet never moved from the one spot. "Indeed," sighed Mr. Bimby, "I greatly fear my poor young friend is ill again. I must go up to him, but first may I beg "
Barrymaine reached out with clutching fingers, swayed, twisted sideways and would have fallen, had not Barnabas caught him. "Poor boy!" cried Mr. Bimby, "a fit, I think so very young, poor boy! You'll need help, sir. Oh, poor boy, poor boy!" So saying, the little gentleman hurried away and presently returned with John and Mr. Smivvle.
"Sit down," said Barnabas, "I think he's found." So saying he turned and followed Mr. Bimby out of the room. It needed but a glance at the huddled figure in the comfortless little attic to assure Barnabas of the identity of Mr. Bimby's "poor young friend"; wherefore, setting down the candle on the broken table, he crossed the room and touched that desolate figure with a gentle hand.
"Which, sir, I will, though Mr. Bimby I won't answer for, 'im being busy with the pore young man as 'e brought 'ome last night it's 'im as the brandy's for. Ye see, sir, though doleful, Mr. Bimby's very kind 'earted, and 'e's always a-nussing somebody or something last time it were a dog with a broke leg ah, I've knowed 'im bring 'ome stray cats afore now, many's the time, and once a sparrer.
I get f-faint sometimes my head, I think, the faintness came on me in the s-street to-night, and I f-fell, I think." "Indeed, yes, sir," added Mr. Bimby with a little bow, "it was so I found you, sir." "Ah, yes, you were kind to me, I remember you have my g-gratitude, sir. Now, Beverley, give me your arm, I I oh, God help me!"
Snummit, who took it, curtsied, and rolling her solitary orb at the bottle on the table, smiled engagingly. "Which I would thank you kindly on be'alf o' Mr. Bimby, sir, and, seeing it upon the tip o' your tongue to ax me to partake, I begs to say 'Amen, with a slice o' lemming cut thin, and thank you from my 'eart." "I fear I have no lemon," began Barnabas.
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