So to him I determined to apply in my great danger and distress.
Most fortunately, I found him at home.

When I told him of the landlord's infamous threats, and of the misery I was suffering in consequence of them, he rose up with a stamp of his foot, and sent for his gold-laced cocked hat that he wears on Sundays, and his long cane with the ivory top to it.
"I'll give it to him," said the beadle.

"Come along with me, my dear.
I think I told you you were a good girl at the inquest--if I didn't, I tell you so now.

I'll give it to him! Come along with me." And he went out, striding on with his cocked hat and his great cane, and I followed him.
"Landlord!" he cries, the moment he gets into the passage, with a thump of his cane on the floor, "landlord!" with a look all round him as if he was King of England calling to a beast, "come out!" The moment the landlord came out and saw who it was, his eye fixed on the cocked hat, and he turned as pale as ashes.
"How dare you frighten this poor girl ?" says the beadle.

"How dare you bully her at this sorrowful time with threatening to do what you know you can't do?
How dare you be a cowardly, bullying, braggadocio of an unmanly landlord?
Don't talk to me: I won't hear you.