commonest little matters of the office that have been trusted to
him, blurting out the truth, though expressly cautioned. The
aggravation of that chap sir, has exceeded anything you can
imagine, it has indeed. Nothing but the respect and obligation I
owe to you, sir--'
As it was plain that Sampson was bent on a complimentary harangue,
unless he received a timely interruption, Mr Quilp politely tapped
him on the crown of his head with the little saucepan, and
requested that he would be so obliging as to hold his peace.
'Practical, sir, practical,' said Brass, rubbing the place and
smiling; 'but still extremely pleasant--immensely so!'
'Hearken to me, will you?' returned Quilp, 'or I'll be a little
more pleasant, presently. There's no chance of his comrade and
friend returning. The scamp has been obliged to fly, as I learn,
for some knavery, and has found his way abroad. Let him rot
there.'
'Certainly, sir. Quite proper.--Forcible!' cried Brass, glancing
at the admiral again, as if he made a third in company. 'Extremely
forcible!'
'I hate him,' said Quilp between his teeth, 'and have always hated
him, for family reasons. Besides, he was an intractable ruffian;
otherwise he would have been of use. This fellow is pigeon-hearted
and light-headed. I don't want him any longer. Let him hang or
drown--starve--go to the devil.'
'By all means, sir,' returned Brass. 'When would you wish him,
sir, to--ha, ha!--to make that little excursion?'
'When this trial's over,' said Quilp. 'As soon as that's ended,
send him about his business.'
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'It shall be done, sir,' returned Brass; 'by all means. It will be
rather a blow to Sarah, sir, but she has all her feelings under
control. Ah, Mr Quilp, I often think, sir, if it had only pleased
Providence to bring you and Sarah together, in earlier life, what
blessed results would have flowed from such a union! You never saw
our dear father, sir?--A charming gentleman. Sarah was his pride
and joy, sir. He would have closed his eyes in bliss, would Foxey,
Mr Quilp, if he could have found her such a partner. You esteem
her, sir?'
'I love her,' croaked the dwarf.
'You're very good, Sir,' returned Brass, 'I am sure. Is there any
other order, sir, that I can take a note of, besides this little
matter of Mr Richard?'
'None,' replied the dwarf, seizing the saucepan. 'Let us drink the
lovely Sarah.'
'If we could do it in something, sir, that wasn't quite boiling,'
suggested Brass humbly, 'perhaps it would be better. I think it
will be more agreeable to Sarah's feelings, when she comes to hear
from me of the honour you have done her, if she learns it was in
liquor rather cooler than the last, Sir.'
But to these remonstrances, Mr Quilp turned a deaf ear. Sampson
Brass, who was, by this time, anything but sober, being compelled
to take further draughts of the same strong bowl, found that,
instead of at all contributing to his recovery, they had the novel
effect of making the counting-house spin round and round with
extreme velocity, and causing the floor and ceiling to heave in a
very distressing manner. After a brief stupor, he awoke to a
consciousness of being partly under the table and partly under the
grate. This position not being the most comfortable one he could
have chosen for himself, he managed to stagger to his feet, and,
holding on by the admiral, looked round for his host.
Mr Brass's first impression was, that his host was gone and had
left him there alone--perhaps locked him in for the night. A
strong smell of tobacco, however, suggested a new train of ideas,
he looked upward, and saw that the dwarf was smoking in his
hammock.
'Good bye, Sir,' cried Brass faintly. 'Good bye, Sir.'
'Won't you stop all night?' said the dwarf, peeping out. 'Do stop
all night!'
'I couldn't indeed, Sir,' replied Brass, who was almost dead from
nausea and the closeness of the room. 'If you'd have the goodness
to show me a light, so that I may see my way across the yard,
sir--'
Quilp was out in an instant; not with his legs first, or his head
first, or his arms first, but bodily--altogether.
'To be sure,' he said, taking up a lantern, which was now the only
light in the place. 'Be careful how you go, my dear friend. Be
sure to pick your way among the timber, for all the rusty nails are
upwards. There's a dog in the lane. He bit a man last night, and
a woman the night before, and last Tuesday he killed a child--but
that was in play. Don't go too near him.'
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'Which side of the road is he, sir?' asked Brass, in great dismay.
'He lives on the right hand,' said Quilp, 'but sometimes he hides
on the left, ready for a spring. He's uncertain in that respect.
Mind you take care of yourself. I'll never forgive you if you
don't. There's the light out--never mind--you know the way--
straight on!'
Quilp had slily shaded the light by holding it against his breast,
and now stood chuckling and shaking from head to foot in a rapture
of delight, as he heard the lawyer stumbling up the yard, and now
and then falling heavily down. At length, however, he got quit of
the place, and was out of hearing.
The dwarf shut himself up again, and sprang once more into his
hammock.
CHAPTER 63
The professional gentleman who had given Kit the consolatory piece
of information relative to the settlement of his trifle of business
at the Old Bailey, and the probability of its being very soon
disposed of, turned out to be quite correct in his
prognostications. In eight days' time, the sessions commenced. In
one day afterwards, the Grand jury found a True Bill against
Christopher Nubbles for felony; and in two days from that finding,
the aforesaid Christopher Nubbles was called upon to plead Guilty
or Not Guilty to an Indictment for that he the said Christopher did
feloniously abstract and steal from the dwelling-house and office
of one Sampson Brass, gentleman, one Bank Note for Five Pounds
issued by the Governor and Company of the Bank of England; in
contravention of the Statutes in that case made and provided, and
against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the King, his crown and
dignity.
To this indictment, Christopher Nubbles, in a low and trembling
voice, pleaded Not Guilty; and here, let those who are in the habit
of forming hasty judgments from appearances, and who would have had
Christopher, if innocent, speak out very strong and loud, observe,
that confinement and anxiety will subdue the stoutest hearts; and
that to one who has been close shut up, though it be only for ten
or eleven days, seeing but stone walls and a very few stony faces,
the sudden entrance into a great hall filled with life, is a rather
di
sconcerting and startling circumstance. To this, it must be
added, that life in a wig is to a large class of people much more
terrifying and impressive than life with its own head of hair; and
if, in addition to these considerations, there be taken into
account Kit's natural emotion on seeing the two Mr Garlands and the
little Notary looking on with pale and anxious faces, it will
perhaps seem matter of no very great wonder that he should have
been rather out of sorts, and unable to make himself quite at home.
Although he had never seen either of the Mr Garlands, or Mr
Witherden, since the time of his arrest, he had been given to
understand that they had employed counsel for him. Therefore, when
one of the gentlemen in wigs got up and said 'I am for the
prisoner, my Lord,' Kit made him a bow; and when another gentleman
in a wig got up and said 'And I'm against him, my Lord,' Kit
trembled very much, and bowed to him too. And didn't he hope in
his own heart that his gentleman was a match for the other
gentleman, and would make him ashamed of himself in no time!
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The gentleman who was against him had to speak first, and being in
dreadfully good spirits (for he had, in the last trial, very nearly
procured the acquittal of a young gentleman who had had the
misfortune to murder his father) he spoke up, you may be sure;
telling the jury that if they acquitted this prisoner they must
expect to suffer no less pangs and agonies than he had told the
other jury they would certainly undergo if they convicted that
prisoner. And when he had told them all about the case, and that
he had never known a worse case, he stopped a little while, like a
man who had something terrible to tell them, and then said that he
understood an attempt would be made by his learned friend (and here
he looked sideways at Kit's gentleman) to impeach the testimony of
those immaculate witnesses whom he should call before them; but he
did hope and trust that his learned friend would have a greater
respect and veneration for the character of the prosecutor; than
whom, as he well knew, there did not exist, and never had existed,
a more honourable member of that most honourable profession to
which he was attached. And then he said, did the jury know Bevis
Marks? And if they did know Bevis Marks (as he trusted for their
own character, they did) did they know the historical and elevating
associations connected with that most remarkable spot? Did they
believe that a man like Brass could reside in a place like Bevis
Marks, and not be a virtuous and most upright character? And when
he had said a great deal to them on this point, he remembered that
it was an insult to their understandings to make any remarks on
what they must have felt so strongly without him, and therefore
called Sampson Brass into the witness-box, straightway.
Then up comes Mr Brass, very brisk and fresh; and, having bowed to
the judge, like a man who has had the pleasure of seeing him
before, and who hopes he has been pretty well since their last
meeting, folds his arms, and looks at his gentleman as much as to
say 'Here I am--full of evidence--Tap me!' And the gentleman
does tap him presently, and with great discretion too; drawing off
the evidence by little and little, and making it run quite clear
and bright in the eyes of all present. Then, Kit's gentleman takes
him in hand, but can make nothing of him; and after a great many
very long questions and very short answers, Mr Sampson Brass goes
down in glory.
To him succeeds Sarah, who in like manner is easy to be managed by
Mr Brass's gentleman, but very obdurate to Kit's. In short, Kit's
gentleman can get nothing out of her but a repetition of what she
has said before (only a little stronger this time, as against his
client), and therefore lets her go, in some confusion. Then, Mr
Brass's gentleman calls Richard Swiveller, and Richard Swiveller
appears accordingly.
Now, Mr Brass's gentleman has it whispered in his ear that this
witness is disposed to be friendly to the prisoner--which, to say
the truth, he is rather glad to hear, as his strength is considered
to lie in what is familiarly termed badgering. Wherefore, he
begins by requesting the officer to be quite sure that this witness
kisses the book, then goes to work at him, tooth and nail.
'Mr Swiveller,' says this gentleman to Dick, when he had told his
tale with evident reluctance and a desire to make the best of it:
'Pray sir, where did you dine yesterday?'--'Where did I dine
yesterday?'--'Aye, sir, where did you dine yesterday--was it near
here, sir?'--'Oh to be sure--yes--just over the way.'--'To be sure.
Yes. just over the way,' repeats Mr Brass's gentleman, with a
glance at the court.--'Alone, sir?'--'I beg your pardon,' says Mr
Swiveller, who has not caught the question--'Alone, sir?' repeats
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Mr Brass's gentleman in a voice of thunder, 'did you dine alone?
Did you treat anybody, sir? Come!'--'Oh yes, to be sure--yes, I
did,' says Mr Swiveller with a smile.--'Have the goodness to banish
a levity, sir, which is very ill-suited to the place in which you
stand (though perhaps you have reason to be thankful that it's only
that place),' says Mr Brass's gentleman, with a nod of the head,
insinuating that the dock is Mr Swiveller's legitimate sphere of
action; 'and attend to me. You were waiting about here, yesterday,
in expectation that this trial was coming on. You dined over the
way. You treated somebody. Now, was that somebody brother to the
prisoner at the bar?'--Mr Swiveller is proceeding to explain--'Yes
or No, sir,' cries Mr Brass's gentleman--'But will you allow me--'
--'Yes or No, sir'--'Yes it was, but--'--'Yes it was,' cries the
gentleman, taking him up short. 'And a very pretty witness YOU
are!'
Down sits Mr Brass's gentleman. Kit's gentleman, not knowing how
the matter really stands, is afraid to pursue the subject. Richard
Swiveller retires abashed. Judge, jury and spectators have visions
of his lounging about, with an ill-looking, large-whiskered,
dissolute young fellow of six feet high. The reality is, little
Jacob, with the calves of his legs exposed to the open air, and
himself tied up in a shawl. Nobody knows the truth; everybody
believes a falsehood; and all because of the ingenuity of Mr
Brass's gentleman.
Then come the witnesses to character, and here Mr Brass's gentleman
shines again. It turns out that Mr Garland has had no character
with Kit, no recommendation of him but from his own mother, and
that he was suddenly dismissed by his former master for unknown
reasons. 'Really Mr Garland,' says Mr Brass's gentleman, 'for a
person who has arrived at your time of life, you are, to say the
least of it, singularly indiscreet, I think.' The jury think so
too, and find Kit guilty. He is taken off, humbly protesting his
innocence. The spectators settle themselves in their places with
renewed attention, for there are several female witnesses to be
examined in the next case, and it has been rumoured that Mr Brass's
gentleman will make great fun in cross-examining them for the
prisoner.
Kit's mother, poor woman, is waiting at the grate below stairs,
accompanied by Barbara's mother (who, honest soul! never does
anything but cry, and hold the baby), and a sad interview ensues.
The newspaper-reading turnkey has told them all. He don't think it
will be transportation for life, because there's time to prove the
good character yet, and that is sure to serve him. He wonders what
he did it for. 'He never did it!' cries Kit's mother. 'Well,'
says the turnkey, 'I won't contradict you. It's all one, now,
whether he did it or not.'
Kit's mother can reach his hand through the bars, and she clasps it--
God, and those to whom he has given such tenderness, only know in
how much agony. Kit bids her keep a good heart, and, under
pretence of having the children lifted up to kiss him, prays
Barbara's mother in a whisper to take her home.
'Some friend will rise up for us, mother,' cried Kit, 'I am sure.
If not now, before long. My innocence will come out, mother, and
I shall be brought back again; I feel confidence in that. You must
teach little Jacob and the baby how all this was, for if they
thought I had ever been dishonest, when they grew old enough to
understand, it would break my heart to know it, if I was thousands
of miles away.--Oh! is there no good gentleman here, who will
take care of her!'
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The hand slips out of his, for the poor creature sinks down upon
the earth, insensible. Richard Swiveller comes hastily up, elbows
the bystanders out of the way, takes her (after some trouble) in
one arm after the manner of theatrical ravishers, and, nodding to
Kit, and commanding Barbara's mother to follow, for he has a coach
waiting, bears her swiftly off.
Well; Richard took her home. And what astonishing absurdities in
the way of quotation from song and poem he perpetrated on the road,
no man knows. He took her home, and stayed till she was recovered;
and, having no money to pay the coach, went back in state to Bevis
Marks, bidding the driver (for it was Saturday night) wait at the
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