A double drabble based on Barnaby Rudge. MAJOR spoilers. Written at David's request for the Dickensblog Pledge Drive. Disclaimer: Not my characters.

The moonlight slanting through the jail window fell across two faces. The face of the tall man standing in the middle of the cell, was fair and troubled. The disheveled man lounging on the cot in the corner leered complacently up at him. An observer might have thought it was the fair man who was to die on the morrow, not the other.

"You have nothing more to say?" asked Edward Chester. "No words for me? No message for anyone?"

"As to you," returned Hugh carelessly, "I know nothing I didn't know an hour ago, to make me feel any more inclined toward you. As to anyone else"—a shade darkened his face, and his insolent tone altered a little—"no need of messages for Barnaby, poor devil. I'll see him soon enough."

Edward waited, wondering at the change in his demeanor. Then Hugh glanced up, and his mouth twisted into a sneer, as he added, "And tell pretty little Dolly Varden not to weep too much for me."

Edward perceived that his presence could do no further good. With bowed head and a few more murmured words, he slowly went out, leaving Hugh leering after him in the moonlight.