'And this, like every other trouble and anxiety I have had of late
times, springs from that old dotard and his darling child--two
wretched feeble wanderers! I'll be their evil genius yet. And
you, sweet Kit, honest Kit, virtuous, innocent Kit, look to
yourself. Where I hate, I bite. I hate you, my darling fellow,
with good cause, and proud as you are to-night, I'll have my turn.
--What's that?'
A knocking at the gate he had closed. A loud and violent knocking.
Then, a pause; as if those who knocked had stopped to listen.
Then, the noise again, more clamorous and importunate than before.
'So soon!' said the dwarf. 'And so eager! I am afraid I shall
disappoint you. It's well I'm quite prepared. Sally, I thank
you!'
As he spoke, he extinguished the candle. In his impetuous attempts
to subdue the brightness of the fire, he overset the stove, which
came tumbling forward, and fell with a crash upon the burning
embers it had shot forth in its descent, leaving the room in pitchy
darkness. The noise at the gate still continuing, he felt his way
to the door, and stepped into the open air.
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