THE MAN OF TWO LIVES. 345 



Tombstone nor heaving sod could impede the headlong* course of 

 the delirious barber. Over these he leapt, over those he tumbled, 

 huddled, scrambled, till, gaining at length the path, he fled straight on, 

 and, pitching himself into the high road, ran pell-mell against a female 

 foot passenger walking swiftly along. 



" Lord have mercy upon us ! Is that you, Singe?" cried his wife 

 (for it was indeed she). "How did you get out? Surely you were 

 not tired of staying by yourself so long at home.'' 



" How came I out?" said the barber, wildly, " that's the question. 

 Tired of staying so long at home ! I was tired of staying so long at 

 my long home. Why, you've buried me alive ; if it hadn't been for 

 two fellows mercy on us, what an escape ! 



Here an explanation took place of the most exciting description. 



" Well, come home now," urged the wife, when this indispensable 

 conference was at an end ; " we shall be discovered. To-morrow 

 morning early we can escape. I have got the ten pounds from the 

 Society, and" 



" I'll not go to London hang the Seven Dials !" cried the barber. 

 " I've had enough of these schemes. I shall expose all. I shall ex- 

 pose Slash ; why, he wanted to cut me up, after all. I'll show him 



that I'm cut and come again. But thisjs all owing to Frizzle^; d ri 



that Frizzle." 



Almost as rapidly as these words were spoken did Singe hoist up 

 the tattered train of his long bedgown, and, turning suddenly round, 

 rushed in the direction of the surgeon's house, which he soon reached, 

 and now, with gliding motion, entered through the shop door. 



Slash was at that moment braying a difficult compound in a mortar, 

 but, hearing a slight noise, looked up, when his eyes lighted upon the 

 mischief-fraught countenance of Singe. I know not what degree of 

 wild instinct it was that impelled him to launch the pestle at the head 

 of this fearful apparition, but Singe evaded the deadly missile, and 

 making a lounge forwards, as one skilled in the use of the small 

 sword, entrapped with vicious gripe the nose of the doctor between 

 his fingers, 



" Wretch! wouldst thou disturb the repose of the dead?" said the 

 barber, in a hollow voice. 



" Awful spirit! '' stammered Slash. 



" Awful fiddlestick ! " cried the barber, relaxing his hold. " I'm 

 alive, and I don't care who knows it, and I mean to expose your ini- 

 quities. Good night." And the barber darted from the premises 

 without further word. 



As he hurried across the green a light attracted his attention. He 

 knew it of old ; it was a cheering ray shot from the parlour of the 

 Griffin. He was irresistibly drawn to a spot so hallowed by recollec- 

 tions of former happiness, and, peeping over the blind, beheld two of 

 his quondam boon companions. 



" Yes, he certainly had many faults," said one (it was Grim the 

 farrier) " a shockingly vain man, and, for my part, I never could 

 see what for." 



" And not master of his business either,'' said the other (it was 



