 at nothing.
I mean, how strange it is of you to run down volunteering, when it's done to
defend you and all the other women, and our own fireside and everybody else's,
in case of need.«
    »It's unchristian,« cried Mrs. Varden, shaking her head.
    »Unchristian!« said the locksmith. »Why, what the devil -«
    Mrs. Varden looked at the ceiling, as in expectation that the consequence of
this profanity would be the immediate descent of the four-post bedstead on the
second floor, together with the best sitting-room on the first; but no visible
judgment occurring, she heaved a deep sigh, and begged her husband, in a tone of
resignation, to go on, and by all means to blaspheme as much as possible,
because he knew she liked it.
    The locksmith did for a moment seem disposed to gratify her, but he gave a
great gulp, and mildly rejoined:
    »I was going to say, what on earth do you call it unchristian for? Which
would be most unchristian, Martha - to sit quietly down and let our houses be
sacked by a foreign army, or to turn out like men and drive em off? Shouldn't I
be a nice sort of a Christian, if I crept into a corner of my own chimney and
looked on while a parcel of whiskered savages bore off Dolly - or you?«
    When he said »or you,« Mrs. Varden, despite herself, relaxed into a smile.
There was something complimentary in the idea. »In such a state of things as
that, indeed -« she simpered.
    »As that!« repeated the locksmith. »Well, that would be the state of things
directly. Even Miggs would go. Some black tambourine-player, with a great turban
on, would be bearing her off, and, unless the tambourine-player was proof
against kicking and scratching, it's my belief he'd have the worst of it. Ha ha
ha! I'd forgive the tambourine-player. I wouldn't have him interfered with on
any account, poor fellow.« And here the locksmith laughed again so heartily,
that tears came into his eyes - much to Mrs. Varden's indignation, who thought
the capture of so sound a Protestant and estimable a private character as Miggs
by a pagan negro, a circumstance too shocking and awful for contemplation.
    The picture Gabriel had drawn, indeed, threatened serious consequences, and
would indubitably have led to them
