Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн
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“This extraordinary charge of murder,” said the farmer to Jane, one afternoon, as he reclined upon the sofa in the front parlour, “it seems just like a romance. Strange that you should have recognised the ruffian by the pistol’s flash on that eventful night.”
“I should have known him out of ten thousand. His face was as familiar to me as if I had seen him but yesterday.”
“Tell us all about it, Jane.”
“Well, master, it’s a sad and sorrowful tale, which I have kept locked up in my own breast for ever so long, but it is but right you should know all about it.”
“Right lass, right you are; go on. What made you imagine that the house was likely to be attacked? You asked me to load the two other guns.”
“I did, because I felt assured that danger was at hand.”
“Why so?”
“I had a dream—twice I dreamt the same thing—and then I went over to Mother Crowther and consulted her. She can read the future—being—being a wise woman.”
“She is a wise woman indeed if she can do that,” remarked the farmer, with a smile; “what did she say?”