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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 371/459
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‘
But
,
hear
me
speak
a
word
,
’
cried
Kit
,
raising
his
eyes
and
looking
imploringly
about
him
.
‘
Hear
me
speak
a
word
.
I
am
no
more
guilty
than
any
one
of
you
.
Upon
my
soul
I
am
not
.
I
a
thief
!
Oh
,
Mr
Brass
,
you
know
me
better
.
I
am
sure
you
know
me
better
.
This
is
not
right
of
you
,
indeed
.
’
‘
I
give
you
my
word
,
constable
—
’
said
Brass
.
But
here
the
constable
interposed
with
the
constitutional
principle
‘
words
be
blowed
;
’
observing
that
words
were
but
spoon
-
meat
for
babes
and
sucklings
,
and
that
oaths
were
the
food
for
strong
men
.
‘
Quite
true
,
constable
,
’
assented
Brass
in
the
same
mournful
tone
.
‘
Strictly
correct
.
I
give
you
my
oath
,
constable
,
that
down
to
a
few
minutes
ago
,
when
this
fatal
discovery
was
made
,
I
had
such
confidence
in
that
lad
,
that
I
’
d
have
trusted
him
with
—
a
hackney
-
coach
,
Mr
Richard
,
sir
;
you
’
re
very
slow
,
Sir
.
’
‘
Who
is
there
that
knows
me
,
’
cried
Kit
,
‘
that
would
not
trust
me
—
that
does
not
?
ask
anybody
whether
they
have
ever
doubted
me
;
whether
I
have
ever
wronged
them
of
a
farthing
.
Was
I
ever
once
dishonest
when
I
was
poor
and
hungry
,
and
is
it
likely
I
would
begin
now
!
Oh
consider
what
you
do
.
How
can
I
meet
the
kindest
friends
that
ever
human
creature
had
,
with
this
dreadful
charge
upon
me
!
’
Mr
Brass
rejoined
that
it
would
have
been
well
for
the
prisoner
if
he
had
thought
of
that
before
,
and
was
about
to
make
some
other
gloomy
observations
when
the
voice
of
the
single
gentleman
was
heard
,
demanding
from
above
-
stairs
what
was
the
matter
,
and
what
was
the
cause
of
all
that
noise
and
hurry
.
Kit
made
an
involuntary
start
towards
the
door
in
his
anxiety
to
answer
for
himself
,
but
being
speedily
detained
by
the
constable
,
had
the
agony
of
seeing
Sampson
Brass
run
out
alone
to
tell
the
story
in
his
own
way
.
‘
And
he
can
hardly
believe
it
,
either
,
’
said
Sampson
,
when
he
returned
,
‘
nor
nobody
will
.
I
wish
I
could
doubt
the
evidence
of
my
senses
,
but
their
depositions
are
unimpeachable
.
It
’
s
of
no
use
cross
-
examining
my
eyes
,
’
cried
Sampson
,
winking
and
rubbing
them
,
‘
they
stick
to
their
first
account
,
and
will
.
Now
,
Sarah
,
I
hear
the
coach
in
the
Marks
;
get
on
your
bonnet
,
and
we
’
ll
be
off
.
A
sad
errand
!
a
moral
funeral
,
quite
!
’
‘
Mr
Brass
,
’
said
Kit
.
‘
Do
me
one
favour
.
Take
me
to
Mr
Witherden
’
s
first
.
’
Sampson
shook
his
head
irresolutely
.
‘
Do
,
’
said
Kit
.
‘
My
master
’
s
there
.
For
Heaven
’
s
sake
,
take
me
there
,
first
.
