de certain signs, which I could by
no means understand. I stood astonished, but, presently recovering
myself, inquired when he considered it probable that the master would
return, and whether he thought it would be two months or--my tongue
faltered--two years; whereupon the Moldavian clerk made more signs than
before, and yet more unintelligible; as I persisted, however, he flung
down his pen, and, putting his thumb into his mouth, moved it rapidly,
causing the nail to sound against the lower jaw; whereupon I saw that he
was dumb, and hurried away, for I had always entertained a horror of dumb
people, having once heard my another say, when I was a child, that dumb
people were half demoniacs, or little better.

CHAPTER LII

Kind of stupor--Peace of God--Divine hand--Farewell, child--The
fair--Massive edifice--Battered tars--Lost! lost!--Good-day, gentlemen.

Leaving the house of the Armenian, I strolled about for some time; almost
mechanically my feet conducted me to London Bridge, to the booth in which
stood the stall of the old apple-woman; the sound of her voice aroused
me, as I sat in a kind of stupor on the stone bench beside her; she was
inquiring what was the matter with me.

At first, I believe, I answered her very incoherently, for I observed
alarm beginning to depict itself upon her countenance. Rousing myself,
however, I in my turn put a few questions to her upon her present
condition and prospects. The old woman's countenance cleared up
instantly; she informed me that she had never been more comfortable in
her life; that her trade, her _honest_ trade--laying an emphasis on the
word honest--had increased of late wonderfully; that her health was
better, and, above all, that she felt no fear and horror 'here,' laying
her hand on her breast.

On my asking her whether she still heard voices in the night, she told me
that she frequently did; but that the present were mild voices, sweet
voices, encouraging voices, very different from the former ones; that a
voice, only the night previous, had cried out about 'the peace of God,'
in particularly sweet accents; a sentence which she remembered to have
read in her early youth in the primer, but which she had clean forgotten
till the voice the night before brought it to her recollection.

After a pause, the old woman said to me, 'I believe, dear, that it is the
blessed book you brought me which has wrought this goodly change. How
glad I am now that I can