'Dear heart!' said Silas, 'why, there's people coming out o' the
Yard as if they'd been to chapel at this time o' day- a weekday noon!'
Suddenly he started and stood still with a look of distressed
amazement, that alarmed Eppie. They were before an opening in front of
a large factory, from which men and women were streaming for their
midday meal.
'Father,' said Eppie, clasping his arm, 'what's the matter?'
But she had to speak again and again before Silas could answer her.
'It's gone, child,' he said, at last, in strong agitation- 'Lantern
Yard's gone. It must ha' been here, because here's the house with
the o'erhanging window- I know that- it's just the same; but they've
made this new opening; and see that big factory! It's all gone- chapel
and all.'
'Come into that little brush-shop and sit down, father- they'll let
you sit down,' said Eppie, always on the watch lest one of her
father's strange attacks should come on. 'Perhaps the people can
tell you all about it.'
But neither from the brush-maker, who had come to Shoe Lane only
ten years ago, when the factory was already built, nor from any
other source within his reach, could Silas learn anything of the old
Lantern Yard friends, or of Mr Paston, the minister.
'The old place is all swep' away,' Silas said to Dolly Winthrop
on the night of his return- 'the little graveyard and everything.
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