*III. HOW PIP FELL HEIR TO GREAT EXPECTATIONS*
The happy idea occurred to me a morning or two later when I woke, thatthe best step I could take towards making myself uncommon was to get outof Biddy everything she knew. In pursuance of this idea, I mentioned toBiddy, when I went to Mr. Wopsle's aunt's at night, that I had aparticular reason for wishing to get on in life, and that I should feelvery much obliged to her if she would impart all her learning to me.Biddy, who was the most obliging of girls, immediately said she would,and indeed began to carry out her promise within five minutes.
The books at the school were few and ragged, but we attacked them allvaliantly during the course of the winter, and even refreshed ourbudding minds with newspaper scraps. And with every new piece ofknowledge I could fancy myself saying to Miss Estella, "Now am Icommon?"
At the appointed time I returned to Miss Havisham's, and my hesitatingring at the gate brought out Estella.
"You are to come this way to-day," she said after admitting me, and tookme to quite another part of the house.
We went in at a door, which stood open, and into a gloomy room with alow ceiling on the ground floor at the back. There was some company inthe room, and Estella said to me as she joined it, "You are to go andstand there, boy, till you are wanted." "There," being the window, Icrossed to it, and stood "there," in a very uncomfortable state of mind,looking out.
Presently she brought a candle and led the way down a dark passage to astaircase. As we went up the stairs we met a man coming down. He waslarge and bald, with bushy black eyebrows and deep-set eyes which weredisagreeably keen. He was nothing to me at the time, and yet I couldn'thelp observe him.
He stopped and looked at me.
"How do _you_ come here?" he asked.
"Miss Havisham sent for me, sir," I explained.
"Well! Behave yourself. I have a pretty large experience of boys, andyou're a bad set of fellows. Now mind!" said he, biting the side of hisgreat forefinger as he frowned at me, "you behave yourself!"
With those words he released me--which I was glad of, for his hand smeltof scented soap--and went his way downstairs. I wondered whether hecould be a doctor; but no, I thought; he couldn't be a doctor, or hewould have a quieter manner. There was not much time to consider thesubject, for we were soon in Miss Havisham's room, where she andeverything else were just as I had left them. Estella left me standingnear the door, and I stood there until Miss Havisham cast her eyes uponme from the dressing-table.
"So!" she said, without being startled or surprised; "the days have wornaway, have they?"
"Yes, ma'am. To-day is--"
"There, there, there!" with the impatient movement of her fingers. "Idon't want to know. Are you ready to play?"
I was obliged to answer in some confusion, "I don't think I am, ma'am."
"Not at cards again?" she demanded with a searching look.
"Yes, ma'am; I could do that, if I was wanted."
"Since this house strikes you old and grave, boy," said Miss Havisham,impatiently, "and you are unwilling to play, are you willing to work?"
I could answer this inquiry with a better heart than I had been able tofind for the other question, and I said I was quite willing.
"Then go into that opposite room," said she, pointing at the door behindme with her withered hand, "and wait there till I come."
I did so, and after hearing mice scamper about the faintly lighted roomfor a few minutes, Miss Havisham entered and laid a hand upon myshoulder. In her other hand she had a crutch-headed stick on which sheleaned, and she looked like the Witch of the place.
"This," said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, "is where Iwill be laid when I am dead. They shall come and look at me here."
With some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then andthere and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly wax-workat the Fair, I shrank under her touch.
"What do you think that is?" she asked me, again pointing with herstick; "that, where those cobwebs are?"
"I can't guess what it is, ma'am."
"It's a great cake. A bride-cake. Mine!"
She looked all around the room in a glaring manner, and then said,leaning on me while her hand twitched my shoulder, "Come, come, come!Walk me, walk me!"
From this I made out that the work I had to do was to walk Miss Havishamround and round the room. So I started at once, she following at afitful speed, twitching the hand upon my shoulder. After a while shesaid, "Call Estella," and I did so. Then the company I had noticedbefore filed in and paid their respects, which Miss Havisham hardlyseemed to hear.
While Estella was away lighting them down, Miss Havisham still walkedwith her hand on my shoulder, but more and more slowly. At last shestopped before the fire, and said, after muttering and looking at itsome seconds,
"This is my birthday, Pip."
I was going to wish her many happy returns, when she lifted her stick.
"I don't suffer it to be spoken of. I don't suffer those who were herejust now or any one to speak of it. They come here on the day, but theydare not refer to it."
Of course _I_ made no further effort to refer to it.
"On this day of the year, long before you were born, this heap ofdecay," stabbing with her crutched stick at the pile of cobwebs on thetable but not touching it, "was brought here. It and I have worn awaytogether. The mice have gnawed at it, and sharper teeth than teeth ofmice have gnawed at me."
She held the head of her stick against her heart as she stood looking atthe table; she in her once white dress, all yellow and withered; theonce white cloth all yellow and withered; everything around, in a stateto crumble under a touch.
"When the ruin is complete," said she, with a ghastly look, "and whenthey lay me dead, in my bride's dress on the bride's table--which shallbe done, and which will be the finished curse upon him--so much thebetter if it is done on this day!"
She stood looking at the table as if she stood looking at her own figurelying there. I remained quiet. Estella returned, and she too remainedquiet. It seemed to me that we continued thus a long time. In theheavy air of the room, and the heavy darkness that brooded in itsremoter corners, I even had an alarming fancy that Estella and I mightpresently crumble to dust.
And thus passed my second visit to Miss Havisham's.
On my next visit, the following week, I saw a garden-chair--a lightchair on wheels, that you pushed from behind. I entered, that same day,on a regular occupation of pushing Miss Havisham in this chair (when shewas tired of walking with her hand upon my shoulder) round her own room,and across the landing, and round the other room. Over and over andover again, we would make these journeys, and sometimes they would lastas long as three hours at a stretch. I insensibly fall into a generalmention of these journeys as numerous, because it was at once settledthat I should return every alternate day at noon for these purposes, andbecause I am now going to sum up a period of at least eight or tenmonths.
As we began to be more used to one another, Miss Havisham talked more tome, and asked me such questions as, what had I learned and what was Igoing to be? I told her I was going to be apprenticed to Joe, Ibelieved; and I enlarged upon my knowing nothing and wanting to knoweverything, in the hope that she might offer some help towards thatdesirable end. But she did not; on the contrary, she seemed to prefermy being ignorant. Neither did she ever give me any money nor anythingbut my daily dinner.
Estella was always there to let me in and out. Sometimes she wouldcoldly tolerate me; sometimes she would condescend to me; sometimes shewould be quite familiar with me; sometimes she would say she hated me.But always my admiration for her grew apace, and I was the more firmlyresolved not to be common.
There was a song Joe used to hum fragments of at the forge, of which theburden was Old Clem. This was not a very ceremonious way of renderinghomage to a patron saint; for I believe Old Clem stood in that relationtowards smiths. It was a song that imitat
ed the measure of beating uponiron, and was a mere lyrical excuse for the introduction of Old Clem'srespected name. Thus, you were to hammer boys round--Old Clem! With athump and a sound--Old Clem! Beat it out, beat it out--Old Clem! Witha clink for the stout--Old Clem! Blow the fire, blow the fire--OldClem! Roaring dryer, soaring higher--Old Clem! One day soon after theappearance of the chair, Miss Havisham suddenly saying to me, with theimpatient movement of her fingers, "There, there, there! Sing!" I wassurprised into crooning this ditty as I pushed her over the floor. Ithappened so to catch her fancy that, she took it up in a low broodingvoice as if she were singing in her sleep. After that, it becamecustomary with us to have it as we moved about, and Estella would oftenjoin in; though the whole strain was so subdued, even when there werethree of us, that it made less noise in the grim old house than thelightest breath of wind.
What could I become with these surroundings? How could my character failto be influenced by them? Is it to be wondered at if my thoughts weredazed, as my eyes were, when I came out into the natural light from themisty yellow rooms?
Perhaps I might have talked it all over with Joe, had it not been forthose enormous tales about coaches, dogs, and veal cutlets. But I felta natural shrinking from having Miss Havisham and Estella discussed,which had come upon me in the beginning, and which grew much more potentas time went on. I reposed complete confidence in no one but Biddy; andso I told her everything. Why it came natural for me to do so, and whyBiddy had a deep concern in everything I told her, I did not know then,though I think I know now.
We went on in this way for a long time, and it seemed likely that weshould continue to go on in this way for a long time, when, one day,Miss Havisham stopped short as she and I were walking, she leaning on myshoulder; and said with some displeasure,
"You are growing tall, Pip!"
She said no more at the time; but she presently stopped and looked at meagain; and presently again; and after that, looked frowning and moody.On the next day of my attendance, when our usual exercise was over, andI had landed her at her dressing-table, she stayed me with a movement ofher impatient fingers:
"Tell me the name again of that blacksmith of yours."
"Joe Gargery, ma'am."
"Meaning the master you were to be apprenticed to?"
"Yes, Miss Havisham."
"You had better be apprenticed at once. Would Gargery come here withyou, and bring your indentures, do you think?"
I signified that I had no doubt he would take it as an honor to beasked.
"Then let him come."
"At any particular time, Miss Havisham?"
"There, there! I know nothing about times. Let him come soon, and comealone with you."
So, on my very next visit, I conducted Joe, stiffly arrayed in hisSunday clothes, into Miss Havisham's presence. She asked him severalquestions about himself and my apprenticeship, while the poor fellowtwisted his hat in his hand and persisted in answering _me_. I amafraid I was the least bit ashamed of him, when I saw that Estella stoodat the back of Miss Havisham's chair, and that her eyes laughedmischievously.
Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she understood what he really was,better than I had thought possible, seeing what an awkward figure hecut; and took up a little bag from the table beside her.
"Pip has earned a premium here," she said, "and here it is. There arefive-and-twenty guineas in this bag. Give it to your master, Pip."
As if he were absolutely out of his mind with the wonder awakened in himby her strange figure and the strange room, Joe, even at this pass,persisted in addressing me.
"This is wery liberal on your part, Pip," said Joe, "and it is as suchreceived and grateful welcome, though never looked for, far nor near nornowheres. And now, old chap, may we do our duty! May you and me do ourduty, both on us, by one and another, and by them which your liberalpresent--have--conweyed--to be--for the satisfaction of mind--of--themas never--" here Joe showed that he felt he had fallen into frightfuldifficulties, until he triumphantly rescued himself with the words, "andfrom myself far be it!" These words had such a round and convincingsound for him that he said them twice.
"Good-bye, Pip!" said Miss Havisham, after my papers were signed. "Letthem out, Estella."
"Am I to come again, Miss Havisham?" I asked.
"No. Gargery is your master now. Gargery! One word!"
Thus calling him back as I went out of the door, I heard her say to Joe,in a distinct emphatic voice, "The boy has been a good boy here, andthat is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will expect noother and no more."
How Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine; but Iknow that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding upstairsinstead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances until I wentafter him and laid hold of him. In another minute we were outside thegate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone. When we stood in thedaylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall, and said to me,"Astonishing!" And there he remained so long, saying, "Astonishing!" atintervals, so often, that I began to think his senses were never comingback. At length he prolonged his remark into "Pip, I do assure you thisis as-TON-ishing!" and so, by degrees, became able to walk away.
It is a most miserable thing to feel ashamed of home. There may beblack ingratitude in the thing, and the punishment may be retributiveand well deserved; but that it is a miserable thing, I can testify.
Home had never been a pleasant place to me, because of my sister'stemper. But, Joe had sanctified it, and I believed in it. I hadbelieved in the best parlor as a most elegant place; I had believed inthe front door as a mysterious portal of the Temple of State whosesolemn opening was attended with a sacrifice of roast fowls; I hadbelieved in the kitchen as a chaste though not magnificent apartment; Ihad believed in the forge as the glowing road to manhood andindependence. Within a single year all this was changed. Now, it wasall coarse and common, and I would not have had Miss Havisham andEstella see it on any account.
How much of my ungracious condition of mind may have been my own fault,how much Miss Havisham's, how much my sister's, is now of no moment tome or to any one. The change was made in me; the thing was done.
Once, it had seemed to me that when I should at last roll up myshirt-sleeves and go into the forge, Joe's apprentice, I should bedistinguished and happy. Now that the reality was here, I only feltthat I was dusty with the dust of small-coal, and that I had a weightupon my daily remembrance to which the anvil was a feather. I rememberthat at a later period of my "time," I used to stand about thechurchyard on Sunday evenings, when night was falling, comparing my ownperspective with the windy marsh view, and making out some likenessbetween them by thinking how flat and low both were, and how on boththere came an unknown way and a dark mist and then the sea. I was quiteas dejected on the first working-day of my apprenticeship as in thatafter-time; but I am glad to know that I never breathed a murmur to Joewhile my indentures lasted. It is about the only thing I _am_ glad toknow of myself in that connection.
For, though it includes what I proceed to add, all the merit was Joe's.It was not because I was faithful, but because Joe was faithful, that Inever ran away and went for a soldier or a sailor. It was not because Ihad a strong sense of the virtue of industry, but because of Joe, that Iworked with tolerable zeal against the grain.
As I was getting too big for Mr. Wopsle's aunt's room, my educationunder that lady ended. Not, however, until Biddy had imparted to meeverything she knew, from the little catalogue of prices to a comic songshe had once bought for a half-penny. Although the only coherent partof the latter piece were the opening lines:
When I went to Lunnon town, sirs, Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul Was 't I done very brown, sirs? Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul
--still, in my desire to be wiser, I got this composition by heart withthe utmost gravity; nor do I recollect that I questioned its merit,except that I thought (as I still do) the amount of Too rul somewha
t inexcess of the poetry.
Thus matters went until I reached the fourth year of my apprenticeship;and they bade fair to end that way, but for an unusual event.
I had gone with Joe one Saturday night to a neighboring tavern to joinsome friends. In the course of the conversation, a strange gentleman,who had been listening to us, stepped between us and the fire, and said:
"I understand that one of you is a blacksmith, by name, Joseph Gargery.Which is the man?"
"Here is the man," said Joe.
"You have an apprentice," pursued the stranger, "commonly known as Pip.Is he here?"
"Here," I answered.
The stranger did not recognize me, but I did recognize him as the man Ihad once met on the stair at Miss Havisham's.
"I wish to have a private talk with you both," he said. "Perhaps we hadbetter go to your house."
So, in a wondering silence we left the inn and walked home, where Joe,vaguely recognizing the occasion to be important, opened the front doorand ushered us into the state parlor.
The stranger told us that he was a lawyer in London, and was now actingas confidential agent for some one else. He wished to purchase myapprenticeship papers from Joe, if Joe were willing to release me.
"Lord forbid that I should want anything for not standing in Pip's way,"said Joe, staring.
"Lord forbidding is pious, but not to the purpose," returned the lawyer."The question is, Would you want anything? Do you want anything."
"The answer is," returned Joe, sternly, "No."
"Then I am instructed to communicate to him," said Mr. Jaggers, throwinghis finger at me, sideways, "that he will come into a handsome property.Further, that it is the desire of the present possessor of thatproperty, that he be immediately removed from his present sphere of lifeand from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman--in a word, as ayoung fellow of great expectations."
My dream was out; my wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality; MissHavisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale!--at least, so Ithought at the time.
"Now, Mr. Pip," pursued the lawyer, "I address the rest of what I haveto say to you. You are to understand, first, that it is the request ofthe person from whom I take my instructions, that you always bear thename of Pip. You will have no objection, I dare say, to that easycondition. But if you have any objection, this is the time to mentionit."
I gasped, but had no objection.
"The second condition," he resumed, "is that you are not to know thename of your benefactor, for the present. I will act as your guardianand see that you are educated properly. You desire an education, don'tyou?"
I replied that I had always longed for it.
"Good. Then we will see to getting you a tutor. But first you shouldhave some new clothes to come away in. When will you be ready to leave?Say this day week. You'll want some money. Shall I leave you twentyguineas?"
He produced a long purse, with the greatest coolness, and counted themout on the table and pushed them over to me. This was the first time hehad taken his leg from the chair. He sat astride of the chair when hehad pushed the money over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe.
"Well, Joseph Gargery? You look dumbfoundered?"
"I _am_!" said Joe, in a very decided manner.
"It was understood that you wanted nothing for yourself, remember?"
"It were understood," said Joe. "And it _are_ understood. And it everwill be similar according."
"But what," said the lawyer, swinging his purse, "what if it was in myinstructions to make you a present, as compensation?"
"As compensation what for?" Joe demanded.
"For the loss of his services."
Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman. I haveoften thought of him since, like the steam-hammer, that can crush a manor pat an egg-shell, in his combination of strength with gentleness."Pip is that hearty welcome," said Joe, "to go free with his services,to honor and fortun', as no words can tell him. But if you think asMoney can make compensation to me for the loss of the little child--whatcome to the forge--and ever the best of friends--"
Oh, dear, good Joe, whom I was so ready to leave and so unthankful to, Isee you again, with your muscular blacksmith's arm before your eyes, andyour broad chest heaving, and your voice dying away. Oh, dear, good,faithful, tender Joe, I feel the loving tremble of your hand upon myarm, as solemnly this day as if it had been the rustle of an angel'swing!
But at the time I was lost in the mazes of my future fortunes, and couldnot retrace the by-paths we had trodden together. I begged Joe to becomforted. Joe scooped his eyes with his disengaged wrist, as if hewere bent on gouging himself, but said not another word.
After the lawyer had taken his leave, Joe and I went into the kitchen,where we found Biddy and my sister, and told them of my good fortune.
They dropped their sewing and looked at me. Joe held his knees andlooked at me. I looked at them, in turn. After a pause they heartilycongratulated me; but there was a certain touch of sadness in theircongratulations that I rather resented.
Now that I was actually going away I became quite gloomy. I did notknow why, but I sat in the chimney corner looking at the fire, my elbowon my knee; and while the others tried to make the conversationcheerful, I grew gloomier than ever.
But the bright sunlight of the next morning dispelled my doubts andfears, and I began to count the days eagerly. I went down to Trabb's,the tailor's, and got measured for a wonderful suit of clothes, much tothe consternation of Trabb's boy, who thought himself equal to anyblacksmith that ever lived. Then I went to the hatter's and thebootmaker's and the hosier's, and felt rather like Mother Hubbard's dog,whose outfit required the services of so many trades. I also went tothe coach-office and took my place for seven o'clock Saturday morning.And everywhere about the village the news of my great expectationspreceded me and I was heartily stared at.
Uncle Pumblechook was especially officious at this time. He acted asthough he were the sole cause of all this.
"To think," said he, swelling up, "that I should have been the humbleinstrument of this proud reward."
He thought, like all the rest of us, that Miss Havisham was my unknownbenefactor. It was a natural mistake, as she had been kind to me in herway; and I had seen the lawyer at her house. But it was a mistake afterall and led to other unhappy blunders ere I learned the truth.
For, many years afterward, I found that "my convict"--the man I hadhelped down in the churchyard--was none other than the friend who hadleft me this fortune. He had escaped again from the hulks and, cominginto a considerable property, had arranged with the lawyer to use it inmaking a gentleman out of the little boy he had found crying on thetombstone. But, as I say, none of us knew it or suspected it at first.
And now, those six days which were to have run out so slowly, had runout fast and were gone, and to-morrow looked me in the face moresteadily than I could look at it. As the six evenings had dwindled awayto five, to four, to three, to two, I had become more and moreappreciative of the society of Joe and my sister and Biddy. On thislast evening, I dressed myself out in my new clothes, for their delight,and sat in my splendor until bedtime. We had a hot supper on theoccasion, graced by the inevitable roast fowl, and we had some flip tofinish with. We were all very low, and none the higher for pretendingto be in spirits.
It was a hurried breakfast, the next morning, with no taste in it. Igot up from the meal, saying with a sort of briskness, as if it had onlyjust occurred to me, "Well! I suppose I must be off!" and then I kissedmy sister, and kissed Biddy, and threw my arms around Joe's neck. Then Itook up my little portmanteau and walked out. The last I saw of themwas, when I presently heard a scuffle behind me, and, looking back, sawJoe throwing an old shoe after me and Biddy throwing another old shoe. Istopped then, to wave my hat, and dear old Joe waved his strong rightarm above his head, crying huskily "Hooroar!" and Biddy put her apron toher face.
I walked away at a good pace, t
hinking it was easier to go than I hadsupposed it would be, and reflecting that it would never have done tohave an old shoe thrown after the coach, in sight of all theHigh-street. I whistled and made nothing of going. But the village wasvery peaceful and quiet, and the light mists were solemnly rising, as ifto show me the world, and I had been so innocent and little there, andall beyond was so unknown and great, that in a moment with a strongheave and sob I broke into tears. It was by the finger-post at the endof the village, and I laid my hand upon it, and said, "Good-bye, oh, mydear, dear friend!"
So subdued was I by those tears, that when I was on the coach, and itwas clear of the town, I deliberated with an aching heart whether Iwould not get down when we changed horses, and walk back, and haveanother evening at home, and a better parting. But while I deliberated,we had changed and changed again, and it was now too late and too far togo back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, andthe world lay spread before me. My boyhood was over. Henceforth I wasto play a man's part--a man with Great Expectations.
*THE STORY OF LITTLE DORRIT*
Stories from Dickens Page 16
