r. Then there's this point got--that her
daughter Dolly,'--here a flush came over Mr Tappertit's face--'wouldn't
be allowed to be a go-between from that time forward; and till that
point's got, there's nothing ever will prevent her. Mind that.'

'Mr Tappertit, your knowledge of human nature--'

'Wait a minute,' said Sim, folding his arms with a dreadful calmness.
'Now I come to THE point. Sir, there is a villain at that Maypole, a
monster in human shape, a vagabond of the deepest dye, that unless you
get rid of and have kidnapped and carried off at the very least--nothing
less will do--will marry your son to that young woman, as certainly and
as surely as if he was the Archbishop of Canterbury himself. He will,
sir, for the hatred and malice that he bears to you; let alone the
pleasure of doing a bad action, which to him is its own reward. If you
knew how this chap, this Joseph Willet--that's his name--comes backwards
and forwards to our house, libelling, and denouncing, and threatening
you, and how I shudder when I hear him, you'd hate him worse than I
do,--worse than I do, sir,' said Mr Tappertit wildly, putting his hair
up straighter, and making a crunching noise with his teeth; 'if sich a
thing is possible.'

'A little private vengeance in this, Mr Tappertit?'

'Private vengeance, sir, or public sentiment, or both combined--destroy
him,' said Mr Tappertit. 'Miggs says so too. Miggs and me both say so.
We can't bear the plotting and undermining that takes place. Our souls
recoil from it. Barnaby Rudge and Mrs Rudge are in it likewise; but the
villain, Joseph Willet, is the ringleader. Their plottings and schemes
are known to me and Miggs. If you want information of 'em, apply to us.
Put Joseph Willet down, sir. Destroy him. Crush him. And be happy.'

With these words, Mr Tappertit, who seemed to expect no reply, and to
hold it as a necessary consequence of his eloquence that his hearer
should be utterly stunned, dumbfoundered, and overwhelmed, folded his
arms so that the palm of each hand rested on the opposite shoulder, and
disappeared after the manner of those mysterious warners of whom he had
read in cheap story-books.

'That fellow,' said Mr Chester, relaxing his face when he was fairly
gone, 'is good practice. I HAVE some command of my features, beyond all
doubt. He fully confirms what I suspected, though; and blunt tools are
sometimes found of use, where sharper instruments would fail. I fear
I may be obl