Martin Chuzzlewit

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER FORTY

  THE PINCHES MAKE A NEW ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAVE FRESH OCCASION FORSURPRISE AND WONDER

  There was a ghostly air about these uninhabited chambers in the Temple,and attending every circumstance of Tom's employment there, which had astrange charm in it. Every morning when he shut his door at Islington,he turned his face towards an atmosphere of unaccountable fascination,as surely as he turned it to the London smoke; and from that moment itthickened round and round him all day long, until the time arrived forgoing home again, and leaving it, like a motionless cloud, behind.

  It seemed to Tom, every morning, that he approached this ghostlymist, and became enveloped in it, by the easiest succession of degreesimaginable. Passing from the roar and rattle of the streets into thequiet court-yards of the Temple, was the first preparation. Every echoof his footsteps sounded to him like a sound from the old walls andpavements, wanting language to relate the histories of the dim, dismalrooms; to tell him what lost documents were decaying in forgottencorners of the shut-up cellars, from whose lattices such mouldy sighscame breathing forth as he went past; to whisper of dark bins of rareold wine, bricked up in vaults among the old foundations of the Halls;or mutter in a lower tone yet darker legends of the cross-leggedknights, whose marble effigies were in the church. With the firstplanting of his foot upon the staircase of his dusty office, all thesemysteries increased; until, ascending step by step, as Tom ascended,they attained their full growth in the solitary labours of the day.

  Every day brought one recurring, never-failing source of speculation.This employer; would he come to-day, and what would he be like? ForTom could not stop short at Mr Fips; he quite believed that Mr Fips hadspoken truly, when he said he acted for another; and what manner of manthat other was, became a full-blown flower of wonder in the garden ofTom's fancy, which never faded or got trodden down.

  At one time, he conceived that Mr Pecksniff, repenting of his falsehood,might, by exertion of his influence with some third person havedevised these means of giving him employment. He found this idea soinsupportable after what had taken place between that good man andhimself, that he confided it to John Westlock on the very same day;informing John that he would rather ply for hire as a porter, than fallso low in his own esteem as to accept the smallest obligation from thehands of Mr Pecksniff. But John assured him that he (Tom Pinch) was farfrom doing justice to the character of Mr Pecksniff yet, if he supposedthat gentleman capable of performing a generous action; and that hemight make his mind quite easy on that head until he saw the sun turngreen and the moon black, and at the same time distinctly perceived withthe naked eye, twelve first-rate comets careering round those planets.In which unusual state of things, he said (and not before), it mightbecome not absolutely lunatic to suspect Mr Pecksniff of anythingso monstrous. In short he laughed the idea down completely; and Tom,abandoning it, was thrown upon his beam-ends again, for some othersolution.

  In the meantime Tom attended to his duties daily, and made considerableprogress with the books; which were already reduced to some sort oforder, and made a great appearance in his fairly-written catalogue.During his business hours, he indulged himself occasionally withsnatches of reading; which were often, indeed, a necessary part ofhis pursuit; and as he usually made bold to carry one of these goblinvolumes home at night (always bringing it back again next morning, incase his strange employer should appear and ask what had become of it),he led a happy, quiet, studious kind of life, after his own heart.

  But though the books were never so interesting, and never so full ofnovelty to Tom, they could not so enchain him, in those mysteriouschambers, as to render him unconscious, for a moment, of the lightestsound. Any footstep on the flags without set him listening attentivelyand when it turned into that house, and came up, up, up the stairs, healways thought with a beating heart, 'Now I am coming face to face withhim at last!' But no footstep ever passed the floor immediately below:except his own.

  This mystery and loneliness engendered fancies in Tom's mind, the follyof which his common sense could readily discover, but which his commonsense was quite unable to keep away, notwithstanding; that quality beingwith most of us, in such a case, like the old French Police--quick atdetection, but very weak as a preventive power. Misgivings, undefined,absurd, inexplicable, that there was some one hiding in the innerroom--walking softly overhead, peeping in through the door-chink, doingsomething stealthy, anywhere where he was not--came over him ahundred times a day, making it pleasant to throw up the sash, and holdcommunication even with the sparrows who had built in the roof andwater-spout, and were twittering about the windows all day long.

  He sat with the outer door wide open, at all times, that he might hearthe footsteps as they entered, and turned off into the chambers on thelower floor. He formed odd prepossessions too, regarding strangers inthe streets; and would say within himself of such or such a man, whostruck him as having anything uncommon in his dress or aspect, 'Ishouldn't wonder, now, if that were he!' But it never was. And thoughhe actually turned back and followed more than one of these suspectedindividuals, in a singular belief that they were going to the place hewas then upon his way from, he never got any other satisfaction by it,than the satisfaction of knowing it was not the case.

  Mr Fips, of Austin Friars, rather deepened than illumined the obscurityof his position; for on the first occasion of Tom's waiting on him toreceive his weekly pay, he said:

  'Oh! by the bye, Mr Pinch, you needn't mention it, if you please!'

  Tom thought he was going to tell him a secret; so he said that hewouldn't on any account, and that Mr Fips might entirely depend uponhim. But as Mr Fips said 'Very good,' in reply, and nothing more, Tomprompted him:

  'Not on any account,' repeated Tom.

  Mr Fips repeated: 'Very good.'

  'You were going to say'--Tom hinted.

  'Oh dear no!' cried Fips. 'Not at all.' However, seeing Tom confused, headded, 'I mean that you needn't mention any particulars about your placeof employment, to people generally. You'll find it better not.'

  'I have not had the pleasure of seeing my employer yet, sir,' observedTom, putting his week's salary in his pocket.

  'Haven't you?' said Fips. 'No, I don't suppose you have though.'

  'I should like to thank him, and to know that what I have done so far,is done to his satisfaction,' faltered Tom.

  'Quite right,' said Mr Fips, with a yawn. 'Highly creditable. Veryproper.'

  Tom hastily resolved to try him on another tack.

  'I shall soon have finished with the books,' he said. 'I hope that willnot terminate my engagement, sir, or render me useless?'

  'Oh dear no!' retorted Fips. 'Plenty to do; plen-ty to do! Be carefulhow you go. It's rather dark.'

  This was the very utmost extent of information Tom could ever get out ofHIM. So it was dark enough in all conscience; and if Mr Fips expressedhimself with a double meaning, he had good reason for doing so.

  But now a circumstance occurred, which helped to divert Tom's thoughtsfrom even this mystery, and to divide them between it and a new channel,which was a very Nile in itself.

  The way it came about was this. Having always been an early riser andhaving now no organ to engage him in sweet converse every morning,it was his habit to take a long walk before going to the Temple; andnaturally inclining, as a stranger, towards those parts of the townwhich were conspicuous for the life and animation pervading them, hebecame a great frequenter of the market-places, bridges, quays, andespecially the steam-boat wharves; for it was very lively and freshto see the people hurrying away upon their many schemes of business orpleasure, and it made Tom glad to think that there was that much changeand freedom in the monotonous routine of city lives.

  In most of these morning excursions Ruth accompanied him. As theirlandlord was always up and away at his business (whatever that might be,no one seemed to know) at a very early hour, the habits of the peopleof the house in which they lodged corresponded with their own. Thus theyhad often fini
shed their breakfast, and were out in the summer air, byseven o'clock. After a two hours' stroll they parted at some convenientpoint; Tom going to the Temple, and his sister returning home, asmethodically as you please.

  Many and many a pleasant stroll they had in Covent Garden Market;snuffing up the perfume of the fruits and flowers, wondering at themagnificence of the pineapples and melons; catching glimpses down sideavenues, of rows and rows of old women, seated on inverted baskets,shelling peas; looking unutterable things at the fat bundles ofasparagus with which the dainty shops were fortified as with abreastwork; and, at the herbalist's doors, gratefully inhaling scentsas of veal-stuffing yet uncooked, dreamily mixed up with capsicums,brown-paper, seeds, even with hints of lusty snails and fine young curlyleeches. Many and many a pleasant stroll they had among the poultrymarkets, where ducks and fowls, with necks unnaturally long, laystretched out in pairs, ready for cooking; where there were speckledeggs in mossy baskets, white country sausages beyond impeachment bysurviving cat or dog, or horse or donkey; new cheeses to any wildextent, live birds in coops and cages, looking much too big to benatural, in consequence of those receptacles being much too little;rabbits, alive and dead, innumerable. Many a pleasant stroll theyhad among the cool, refreshing, silvery fish-stalls, with a kind ofmoonlight effect about their stock-in-trade, excepting always forthe ruddy lobsters. Many a pleasant stroll among the waggon-loads offragrant hay, beneath which dogs and tired waggoners lay fast asleep,oblivious of the pieman and the public-house. But never half so good astroll as down among the steamboats on a bright morning.

  There they lay, alongside of each other; hard and fast for ever, to allappearance, but designing to get out somehow, and quite confident ofdoing it; and in that faith shoals of passengers, and heaps of luggage,were proceeding hurriedly on board. Little steam-boats dashed up anddown the stream incessantly. Tiers upon tiers of vessels, scoresof masts, labyrinths of tackle, idle sails, splashing oars, glidingrow-boats, lumbering barges, sunken piles, with ugly lodgings forthe water-rat within their mud-discoloured nooks; church steeples,warehouses, house-roofs, arches, bridges, men and women, children,casks, cranes, boxes, horses, coaches, idlers, and hard-labourers; therethey were, all jumbled up together, any summer morning, far beyond Tom'spower of separation.

  In the midst of all this turmoil there was an incessant roar from everypacket's funnel, which quite expressed and carried out the uppermostemotion of the scene. They all appeared to be perspiring and botheringthemselves, exactly as their passengers did; they never left offfretting and chafing, in their own hoarse manner, once; but were alwayspanting out, without any stops, 'Come along do make haste I'm verynervous come along oh good gracious we shall never get there how lateyou are do make haste I'm off directly come along!'

  Even when they had left off, and had got safely out into the current,on the smallest provocation they began again; for the bravest packetof them all, being stopped by some entanglement in the river, wouldimmediately begin to fume and pant afresh, 'oh here's a stoppage what'sthe matter do go on there I'm in a hurry it's done on purpose did youever oh my goodness DO go on here!' and so, in a state of mind borderingon distraction, would be last seen drifting slowly through the mist intothe summer light beyond, that made it red.

  Tom's ship, however; or, at least, the packet-boat in which Tom and hissister took the greatest interest on one particular occasion; was notoff yet, by any means; but was at the height of its disorder. The pressof passengers was very great; another steam-boat lay on each side ofher; the gangways were choked up; distracted women, obviously boundfor Gravesend, but turning a deaf ear to all representations that thisparticular vessel was about to sail for Antwerp, persisted in secretingbaskets of refreshments behind bulk-heads, and water-casks, and underseats; and very great confusion prevailed.

  It was so amusing, that Tom, with Ruth upon his arm, stood looking downfrom the wharf, as nearly regardless as it was in the nature of fleshand blood to be, of an elderly lady behind him, who had brought a largeumbrella with her, and didn't know what to do with it. This tremendousinstrument had a hooked handle; and its vicinity was first made knownto him by a painful pressure on the windpipe, consequent upon its havingcaught him round the throat. Soon after disengaging himself with perfectgood humour, he had a sensation of the ferule in his back; immediatelyafterwards, of the hook entangling his ankles; then of the umbrellagenerally, wandering about his hat, and flapping at it like a greatbird; and, lastly, of a poke or thrust below the ribs, which give himsuch exceeding anguish, that he could not refrain from turning round tooffer a mild remonstrance.

  Upon his turning round, he found the owner of the umbrella strugglingon tip-toe, with a countenance expressive of violent animosity, to lookdown upon the steam-boats; from which he inferred that she had attackedhim, standing in the front row, by design, and as her natural enemy.

  'What a very ill-natured person you must be!' said Tom.

  The lady cried out fiercely, 'Where's the pelisse!'--meaning theconstabulary--and went on to say, shaking the handle of the umbrellaat Tom, that but for them fellers never being in the way when they waswanted, she'd have given him in charge, she would.

  'If they greased their whiskers less, and minded the duties whichthey're paid so heavy for, a little more,' she observed, 'no one needn'tbe drove mad by scrouding so!'

  She had been grievously knocked about, no doubt, for her bonnet was bentinto the shape of a cocked hat. Being a fat little woman, too, she wasin a state of great exhaustion and intense heat. Instead of pursuing thealtercation, therefore, Tom civilly inquired what boat she wanted to goon board of?

  'I suppose,' returned the lady, 'as nobody but yourself can want to lookat a steam package, without wanting to go a-boarding of it, can they!Booby!'

  'Which one do you want to look at then?' said Tom. 'We'll make room foryou if we can. Don't be so ill-tempered.'

  'No blessed creetur as ever I was with in trying times,' returned thelady, somewhat softened, 'and they're a many in their numbers, everbrought it as a charge again myself that I was anythin' but mild andequal in my spirits. Never mind a contradicting of me, if you seemto feel it does you good, ma'am, I often says, for well you know thatSairey may be trusted not to give it back again. But I will not denigethat I am worrited and wexed this day, and with good reagion, Lordforbid!'

  By this time, Mrs Gamp (for it was no other than that experiencedpractitioner) had, with Tom's assistance, squeezed and worked herselfinto a small corner between Ruth and the rail; where, after breathingvery hard for some little time, and performing a short series ofdangerous evolutions with her umbrella, she managed to establish herselfpretty comfortably.

  'And which of all them smoking monsters is the Ankworks boat, I wonder.Goodness me!' cried Mrs Gamp.

  'What boat did you want?' asked Ruth.

  'The Ankworks package,' Mrs Gamp replied. 'I will not deceive you, mysweet. Why should I?'

  'That is the Antwerp packet in the middle,' said Ruth.

  'And I wish it was in Jonadge's belly, I do,' cried Mrs Gamp; appearingto confound the prophet with the whale in this miraculous aspiration.

  Ruth said nothing in reply; but, as Mrs Gamp, laying her chin againstthe cool iron of the rail, continued to look intently at the Antwerpboat, and every now and then to give a little groan, she inquiredwhether any child of hers was going aboard that morning? Or perhaps herhusband, she said kindly.

  'Which shows,' said Mrs Gamp, casting up her eyes, 'what a little wayyou've travelled into this wale of life, my dear young creetur! As agood friend of mine has frequent made remark to me, which her name,my love, is Harris, Mrs Harris through the square and up the stepsa-turnin' round by the tobacker shop, "Oh Sairey, Sairey, little do weknow wot lays afore us!" "Mrs Harris, ma'am," I says, "not much, it'strue, but more than you suppoge. Our calcilations, ma'am," I says,"respectin' wot the number of a family will be, comes most times withinone, and oftener than you would suppoge, exact." "Sairey," says MrsHarris, in a awful way, "Tell me wot is m
y indiwidgle number." "No, MrsHarris," I says to her, "ex-cuge me, if you please. My own," I says,"has fallen out of three-pair backs, and had damp doorsteps settledon their lungs, and one was turned up smilin' in a bedstead unbeknown.Therefore, ma'am," I says, "seek not to proticipate, but take 'em asthey come and as they go." Mine,' says Mrs Gamp, 'mine is all gone, mydear young chick. And as to husbands, there's a wooden leg gone likewayshome to its account, which in its constancy of walkin' into wine vaults,and never comin' out again 'till fetched by force, was quite as weak asflesh, if not weaker.'

  When she had delivered this oration, Mrs Gamp leaned her chin upon thecool iron again; and looking intently at the Antwerp packet, shook herhead and groaned.

  'I wouldn't,' said Mrs Gamp, 'I wouldn't be a man and have such a thinkupon my mind!--but nobody as owned the name of man, could do it!'

  Tom and his sister glanced at each other; and Ruth, after a moment'shesitation, asked Mrs Gamp what troubled her so much.

  'My dear,' returned that lady, dropping her voice, 'you are single,ain't you?'

  Ruth laughed blushed, and said 'Yes.'

  'Worse luck,' proceeded Mrs Gamp, 'for all parties! But others ismarried, and in the marriage state; and there is a dear young creetura-comin' down this mornin' to that very package, which is no more fit totrust herself to sea, than nothin' is!'

  She paused here to look over the deck of the packet in question, and onthe steps leading down to it, and on the gangways. Seeming to havethus assured herself that the object of her commiseration had not yetarrived, she raised her eyes gradually up to the top of the escape-pipe,and indignantly apostrophised the vessel:

  'Oh, drat you!' said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrella at it, 'you're anice spluttering nisy monster for a delicate young creetur to go andbe a passinger by; ain't you! YOU never do no harm in that way, doyou? With your hammering, and roaring, and hissing, and lamp-iling, youbrute! Them Confugion steamers,' said Mrs Gamp, shaking her umbrellaagain, 'has done more to throw us out of our reg'lar work and bringewents on at times when nobody counted on 'em (especially themscreeching railroad ones), than all the other frights that ever wastook. I have heerd of one young man, a guard upon a railway, only threeyears opened--well does Mrs Harris know him, which indeed he is her ownrelation by her sister's marriage with a master sawyer--as is godfatherat this present time to six-and-twenty blessed little strangers, equallyunexpected, and all on 'um named after the Ingeines as was the cause.Ugh!' said Mrs Gamp, resuming her apostrophe, 'one might easy know youwas a man's inwention, from your disregardlessness of the weakness ofour naturs, so one might, you brute!'

  It would not have been unnatural to suppose, from the first part of MrsGamp's lamentations, that she was connected with the stage-coaching orpost-horsing trade. She had no means of judging of the effect of herconcluding remarks upon her young companion; for she interrupted herselfat this point, and exclaimed:

  'There she identically goes! Poor sweet young creetur, there she goes,like a lamb to the sacrifige! If there's any illness when that wesselgets to sea,' said Mrs Gamp, prophetically, 'it's murder, and I'm thewitness for the persecution.'

  She was so very earnest on the subject, that Tom's sister (being as kindas Tom himself) could not help saying something to her in reply.

  'Pray, which is the lady,' she inquired, 'in whom you are so muchinterested?'

  'There!' groaned Mrs Gamp. 'There she goes! A-crossin' the little woodenbridge at this minute. She's a-slippin' on a bit of orangepeel!' tightlyclutching her umbrella. 'What a turn it give me.'

  'Do you mean the lady who is with that man wrapped up from head to footin a large cloak, so that his face is almost hidden?'

  'Well he may hide it!' Mrs Gamp replied. 'He's good call to be ashamedof himself. Did you see him a-jerking of her wrist, then?'

  'He seems to be hasty with her, indeed.'

  'Now he's a-taking of her down into the close cabin!' said Mrs Gamp,impatiently. 'What's the man about! The deuce is in him, I think. Whycan't he leave her in the open air?'

  He did not, whatever his reason was, but led her quickly down anddisappeared himself, without loosening his cloak, or pausing on thecrowded deck one moment longer than was necessary to clear their way tothat part of the vessel.

  Tom had not heard this little dialogue; for his attention had beenengaged in an unexpected manner. A hand upon his sleeve had causedhim to look round, just when Mrs Gamp concluded her apostrophe to thesteam-engine; and on his right arm, Ruth being on his left, he foundtheir landlord, to his great surprise.

  He was not so much surprised at the man's being there, as at his havinggot close to him so quietly and swiftly; for another person had beenat his elbow one instant before; and he had not in the meantime beenconscious of any change or pressure in the knot of people among whom hestood. He and Ruth had frequently remarked how noiselessly this landlordof theirs came into and went out of his own house; but Tom was not theless amazed to see him at his elbow now.

  'I beg your pardon, Mr Pinch,' he said in his ear. 'I am rather infirm,and out of breath, and my eyes are not very good. I am not as young as Iwas, sir. You don't see a gentleman in a large cloak down yonder, with alady on his arm; a lady in a veil and a black shawl; do you?'

  If HE did not, it was curious that in speaking he should have singledout from all the crowd the very people whom he described; and shouldhave glanced hastily from them to Tom, as if he were burning to directhis wandering eyes.

  'A gentleman in a large cloak!' said Tom, 'and a lady in a black shawl!Let me see!'

  'Yes, yes!' replied the other, with keen impatience. 'A gentlemanmuffled up from head to foot--strangely muffled up for such a morningas this--like an invalid, with his hand to his face at this minute,perhaps. No, no, no! not there,' he added, following Tom's gaze; 'theother way; in that direction; down yonder.' Again he indicated, but thistime in his hurry, with his outstretched finger, the very spot on whichthe progress of these persons was checked at that moment.

  'There are so many people, and so much motion, and so many objects,'said Tom, 'that I find it difficult to--no, I really don't see agentleman in a large cloak, and a lady in a black shawl. There's a ladyin a red shawl over there!'

  'No, no, no!' cried his landlord, pointing eagerly again, 'not there.The other way; the other way. Look at the cabin steps. To the left. Theymust be near the cabin steps. Do you see the cabin steps? There's thebell ringing already! DO you see the steps?'

  'Stay!' said Tom, 'you're right. Look! there they go now. Is that thegentleman you mean? Descending at this minute, with the folds of a greatcloak trailing down after him?'

  'The very man!' returned the other, not looking at what Tom pointed out,however, but at Tom's own face. 'Will you do me a kindness, sir, a greatkindness? Will you put that letter in his hand? Only give him that!He expects it. I am charged to do it by my employers, but I am late infinding him, and, not being as young as I have been, should never beable to make my way on board and off the deck again in time. Will youpardon my boldness, and do me that great kindness?'

  His hands shook, and his face bespoke the utmost interest and agitation,as he pressed the letter upon Tom, and pointed to its destination, likethe Tempter in some grim old carving.

  To hesitate in the performance of a good-natured or compassionate officewas not in Tom's way. He took the letter; whispered Ruth to wait tillhe returned, which would be immediately; and ran down the steps with allthe expedition he could make. There were so many people going down, somany others coming up, such heavy goods in course of transit to andfro, such a ringing of bell, blowing-off of steam, and shouting of men'svoices, that he had much ado to force his way, or keep in mind to whichboat he was going. But he reached the right one with good speed, andgoing down the cabin-stairs immediately, described the object of hissearch standing at the upper end of the saloon, with his back towardshim, reading some notice which was hung against the wall. As Tomadvanced to give him the letter, he started, hearing footsteps, andturned round.

&nb
sp; What was Tom's astonishment to find in him the man with whom he had hadthe conflict in the field--poor Mercy's husband. Jonas!

  Tom understood him to say, what the devil did he want; but it was noteasy to make out what he said; he spoke so indistinctly.

  'I want nothing with you for myself,' said Tom; 'I was asked, a momentsince, to give you this letter. You were pointed out to me, but I didn'tknow you in your strange dress. Take it!'

  He did so, opened it, and read the writing on the inside. The contentswere evidently very brief; not more perhaps than one line; but theystruck upon him like a stone from a sling. He reeled back as he read.

  His emotion was so different from any Tom had ever seen before that hestopped involuntarily. Momentary as his state of indecision was, thebell ceased while he stood there, and a hoarse voice calling down thesteps, inquired if there was any to go ashore?

  'Yes,' cried Jonas, 'I--I am coming. Give me time. Where's that woman!Come back; come back here.'

  He threw open another door as he spoke, and dragged, rather than led,her forth. She was pale and frightened, and amazed to see her oldacquaintance; but had no time to speak, for they were making a greatstir above; and Jonas drew her rapidly towards the deck.

  'Where are we going? What is the matter?'

  'We are going back,' said Jonas. 'I have changed my mind. I can't go.Don't question me, or I shall be the death of you, or some one else.Stop there! Stop! We're for the shore. Do you hear? We're for theshore!'

  He turned, even in the madness of his hurry, and scowling darkly backat Tom, shook his clenched hand at him. There are not many human facescapable of the expression with which he accompanied that gesture.

  He dragged her up, and Tom followed them. Across the deck, over theside, along the crazy plank, and up the steps, he dragged her fiercely;not bestowing any look on her, but gazing upwards all the while amongthe faces on the wharf. Suddenly he turned again, and said to Tom with atremendous oath:

  'Where is he?'

  Before Tom, in his indignation and amazement, could return an answer toa question he so little understood, a gentleman approached Tom behind,and saluted Jonas Chuzzlewit by name. He has a gentleman of foreignappearance, with a black moustache and whiskers; and addressed him witha polite composure, strangely different from his own distracted anddesperate manner.

  'Chuzzlewit, my good fellow!' said the gentleman, raising his hat incompliment to Mrs Chuzzlewit, 'I ask your pardon twenty thousand times.I am most unwilling to interfere between you and a domestic trip of thisnature (always so very charming and refreshing, I know, although Ihave not the happiness to be a domestic man myself, which is the greatinfelicity of my existence); but the beehive, my dear friend, thebeehive--will you introduce me?'

  'This is Mr Montague,' said Jonas, whom the words appeared to choke.

  'The most unhappy and most penitent of men, Mrs Chuzzlewit,' pursuedthat gentleman, 'for having been the means of spoiling this excursion;but as I tell my friend, the beehive, the beehive. You projected a shortlittle continental trip, my dear friend, of course?'

  Jonas maintained a dogged silence.

  'May I die,' cried Montague, 'but I am shocked! Upon my soul I amshocked. But that confounded beehive of ours in the city must beparamount to every other consideration, when there is honey to be made;and that is my best excuse. Here is a very singular old female droppingcurtseys on my right,' said Montague, breaking off in his discourse,and looking at Mrs Gamp, 'who is not a friend of mine. Does anybody knowher?'

  'Ah! Well they knows me, bless their precious hearts!' said Mrs Gamp,'not forgettin' your own merry one, sir, and long may it be so! Wishin'as every one' (she delivered this in the form of a toast or sentiment)'was as merry, and as handsome-lookin', as a little bird has whisperedme a certain gent is, which I will not name for fear I give offencewhere none is doo! My precious lady,' here she stopped short in hermerriment, for she had until now affected to be vastly entertained,'you're too pale by half!'

  'YOU are here too, are you?' muttered Jonas. 'Ecod, there are enough ofyou.'

  'I hope, sir,' returned Mrs Gamp, dropping an indignant curtsey, 'as nobones is broke by me and Mrs Harris a-walkin' down upon a public wharf.Which was the very words she says to me (although they was the lastI ever had to speak) was these: "Sairey," she says, "is it a publicwharf?" "Mrs Harris," I makes answer, "can you doubt it? You have know'dme now, ma'am, eight and thirty year; and did you ever know me go, orwish to go, where I was not made welcome, say the words." "No, Sairey,"Mrs Harris says, "contrairy quite." And well she knows it too. I am buta poor woman, but I've been sought after, sir, though you may not thinkit. I've been knocked up at all hours of the night, and warned out bya many landlords, in consequence of being mistook for Fire. I goes outworkin' for my bread, 'tis true, but I maintains my independency, withyour kind leave, and which I will till death. I has my feelins as awoman, sir, and I have been a mother likeways; but touch a pipkin asbelongs to me, or make the least remarks on what I eats or drinks, andthough you was the favouritest young for'ard hussy of a servant-gal asever come into a house, either you leaves the place, or me. My earninsis not great, sir, but I will not be impoged upon. Bless the babe, andsave the mother, is my mortar, sir; but I makes so free as add to that,Don't try no impogician with the Nuss, for she will not abear it!'

  Mrs Gamp concluded by drawing her shawl tightly over herself with bothhands, and, as usual, referring to Mrs Harris for full corroboration ofthese particulars. She had that peculiar trembling of the head which,in ladies of her excitable nature, may be taken as a sure indicationof their breaking out again very shortly; when Jonas made a timelyinterposition.

  'As you ARE here,' he said, 'you had better see to her, and take herhome. I am otherwise engaged.' He said nothing more; but looked atMontague as if to give him notice that he was ready to attend him.

  'I am sorry to take you away,' said Montague.

  Jonas gave him a sinister look, which long lived in Tom's memory, andwhich he often recalled afterwards.

  'I am, upon my life,' said Montague. 'Why did you make it necessary?'

  With the same dark glance as before, Jonas replied, after a moment'ssilence:

  'The necessity is none of my making. You have brought it aboutyourself.'

  He said nothing more. He said even this as if he were bound, and in theother's power, but had a sullen and suppressed devil within him, whichhe could not quite resist. His very gait, as they walked away together,was like that of a fettered man; but, striving to work out at hisclenched hands, knitted brows, and fast-set lips, was the sameimprisoned devil still.

  They got into a handsome cabriolet which was waiting for them and droveaway.

  The whole of this extraordinary scene had passed so rapidly and thetumult which prevailed around as so unconscious of any impression fromit, that, although Tom had been one of the chief actors, it was likea dream. No one had noticed him after they had left the packet. He hadstood behind Jonas, and so near him, that he could not help hearing allthat passed. He had stood there, with his sister on his arm, expectingand hoping to have an opportunity of explaining his strange share inthis yet stranger business. But Jonas had not raised his eyes from theground; no one else had even looked towards him; and before he couldresolve on any course of action, they were all gone.

  He gazed round for his landlord. But he had done that more than oncealready, and no such man was to be seen. He was still pursuing thissearch with his eyes, when he saw a hand beckoning to him from ahackney-coach; and hurrying towards it, found it was Merry's. Sheaddressed him hurriedly, but bent out of the window, that she might notbe overheard by her companion, Mrs Gamp.

  'What is it?' she said. 'Good heaven, what is it? Why did he tell melast night to prepare for a long journey, and why have you brought usback like criminals? Dear Mr Pinch!' she clasped her hands distractedly,'be merciful to us. Whatever this dreadful secret is, be merciful, andGod will bless you!'

  'If any power of mercy lay with me,' cried Tom, 'trust
me, you shouldn'task in vain. But I am far more ignorant and weak than you.'

  She withdrew into the coach again, and he saw the hand waving towardshim for a moment; but whether in reproachfulness or incredulity ormisery, or grief, or sad adieu, or what else, he could not, being sohurried, understand. SHE was gone now; and Ruth and he were left to walkaway, and wonder.

  Had Mr Nadgett appointed the man who never came, to meet him upon LondonBridge that morning? He was certainly looking over the parapet, anddown upon the steamboat-wharf at that moment. It could not have beenfor pleasure; he never took pleasure. No. He must have had some businessthere.