451 46 3MB
English Pages 683 Year 2009
Cl a ssi c Li t e r a t u r e
Great Expect at ions
By Charles Dickens
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Fict ion w ise www.fict ionwise.com
Copyright ©
NOTI CE: This ebook is licensed t o t he original purchaser only. Duplicat ion or dist ribut ion t o any person via em ail, floppy disk, net work, print out , or any ot her m eans is a violat ion of I nt ernat ional copyright law and subj ect s t he violat or t o severe fines and/ or im prisonm ent . This not ice overrides t he Adobe Reader perm issions which are erroneous. This book cannot be legally lent or given t o ot hers. This ebook is displayed using 100% recycled elect rons.
Dist ribut ed by Fict ionwise.com
2
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 1 My fat her's fam ily nam e being Pirrip, and m y Christ ian nam e Philip, m y infant t ongue could m ake of bot h nam es not hing longer or m ore explicit t han Pip. So, I called m yself Pip, and cam e t o be called Pip. I give Pirrip as m y fat her's fam ily nam e, on t he aut horit y of his t om bst one and m y sist er—Mrs. Joe Gargery, who m arried t he blacksm it h. As I never saw m y fat her or m y m ot her, and never saw any likeness of eit her of t hem ( for t heir days were long before t he days of phot ographs) , m y first fancies regarding what t hey were like, were unreasonably derived from t heir t om bst ones. The shape of t he let t ers on m y fat her's, gave m e an odd idea t hat he was a square, st out , dark m an, wit h curly black hair. From t he charact er and t urn of t he inscript ion, “ Also Georgiana Wife of t he Above,” I drew a childish conclusion t hat m y m ot her was freckled and sickly. To five lit t le st one lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside t heir grave, and were sacred t o t he m em ory of five lit t le brot hers of m ine—who gave up t rying t o get a living, exceedingly early in t hat universal st ruggle—I am indebt ed for a belief I religiously ent ert ained t hat t hey had all been born on t heir backs wit h t heir hands in t heir t rousers- pocket s, and had never t aken t hem out in t his st at e of exist ence. Ours was t he m arsh count ry, down by t he river, wit hin, as t he river wound, t went y m iles of t he sea. My first m ost vivid and broad im pression of t he ident it y of t hings, seem s t o m e 3
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o have been gained on a m em orable raw aft ernoon t owards evening. At such a t im e I found out for cert ain, t hat t his bleak place overgrown wit h net t les was t he churchyard; and t hat Philip Pirrip, lat e of t his parish, and also Georgiana wife of t he above, were dead and buried; and t hat Alexander, Bart holom ew, Abraham , Tobias, and Roger, infant children of t he aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and t hat t he dark flat wilderness beyond t he churchyard, int ersect ed wit h dykes and m ounds and gat es, wit h scat t ered cat t le feeding on it , was t he m arshes; and t hat t he low leaden line beyond, was t he river; and t hat t he dist ant savage lair from which t he wind was rushing, was t he sea; and t hat t he sm all bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning t o cry, was Pip. “ Hold your noise! ” cried a t errible voice, as a m an st art ed up from am ong t he graves at t he side of t he church porch. “ Keep st ill, you lit t le devil, or I 'll cut your t hroat ! ” A fearful m an, all in coarse grey, wit h a great iron on his leg. A m an wit h no hat , and wit h broken shoes, and wit h an old rag t ied round his head. A m an who had been soaked in wat er, and sm ot hered in m ud, and lam ed by st ones, and cut by flint s, and st ung by net t les, and t orn by briars; who lim ped, and shivered, and glared and growled; and whose t eet h chat t ered in his head as he seized m e by t he chin. “ O! Don't cut m y t hroat , sir,” I pleaded in t error. “ Pray don't do it , sir.” “ Tell us your nam e! ” said t he m an. “ Quick! ” “ Pip, sir.” “ Once m ore,” said t he m an, st aring at m e. “ Give it m out h! ” 4
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Pip. Pip, sir.” “ Show us where you live,” said t he m an. “ Pint out t he place! ” I point ed t o where our village lay, on t he flat in- shore am ong t he alder- t rees and pollards, a m ile or m ore from t he church. The m an, aft er looking at m e for a m om ent , t urned m e upside down, and em pt ied m y pocket s. There was not hing in t hem but a piece of bread. When t he church cam e t o it self— for he was so sudden and st rong t hat he m ade it go head over heels before m e, and I saw t he st eeple under m y feet — when t he church cam e t o it self, I say, I was seat ed on a high t om bst one, t rem bling, while he at e t he bread ravenously. “ You young dog,” said t he m an, licking his lips, “ what fat cheeks you ha’ got .” I believe t hey were fat , t hough I was at t hat t im e undersized for m y years, and not st rong. “ Darn m e if I couldn't eat em ,” said t he m an, wit h a t hreat ening shake of his head, “ and if I han't half a m ind t o't ! ” I earnest ly expressed m y hope t hat he wouldn't , and held t ight er t o t he t om bst one on which he had put m e; part ly, t o keep m yself upon it ; part ly, t o keep m yself from crying. “ Now lookee here! ” said t he m an. “ Where's your m ot her?” “ There, sir! ” said I . He st art ed, m ade a short run, and st opped and looked over his shoulder. “ There, sir! ” I t im idly explained. “ Also Georgiana. That 's m y m ot her.” 5
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Oh! ” said he, com ing back. “ And is t hat your fat her alonger your m ot her?” “ Yes, sir,” said I ; “ him t oo; lat e of t his parish.” “ Ha! ” he m ut t ered t hen, considering. “ Who d'ye live wit h— supposin’ you're kindly let t o live, which I han't m ade up m y m ind about ?” “ My sist er, sir—Mrs. Joe Gargery—wife of Joe Gargery, t he blacksm it h, sir.” “ Blacksm it h, eh?” said he. And looked down at his leg. Aft er darkly looking at his leg and m e several t im es, he cam e closer t o m y t om bst one, t ook m e by bot h arm s, and t ilt ed m e back as far as he could hold m e; so t hat his eyes looked m ost powerfully down int o m ine, and m ine looked m ost helplessly up int o his. “ Now lookee here,” he said, “ t he quest ion being whet her you're t o be let t o live. You know what a file is?” “ Yes, sir.” “ And you know what wit t les is?” “ Yes, sir.” Aft er each quest ion he t ilt ed m e over a lit t le m ore, so as t o give m e a great er sense of helplessness and danger. “ You get m e a file.” He t ilt ed m e again. “ And you get m e wit t les.” He t ilt ed m e again. “ You bring ‘em bot h t o m e.” He t ilt ed m e again. “ Or I 'll have your heart and liver out .” He t ilt ed m e again. I was dreadfully fright ened, and so giddy t hat I clung t o him wit h bot h hands, and said, “ I f you would kindly please t o let m e keep upright , sir, perhaps I shouldn't be sick, and perhaps I could at t end m ore.” 6
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He gave m e a m ost t rem endous dip and roll, so t hat t he church j um ped over it s own weat her- cock. Then, he held m e by t he arm s, in an upright posit ion on t he t op of t he st one, and went on in t hese fearful t erm s: “ You bring m e, t o- m orrow m orning early, t hat file and t hem wit t les. You bring t he lot t o m e, at t hat old Bat t ery over yonder. You do it , and you never dare t o say a word or dare t o m ake a sign concerning your having seen such a person as m e, or any person sum ever, and you shall be let t o live. You fail, or you go from m y words in any part ickler, no m at t er how sm all it is, and your heart and your liver shall be t ore out , roast ed and at e. Now, I ain't alone, as you m ay t hink I am . There's a young m an hid wit h m e, in com parison wit h which young m an I am a Angel. That young m an hears t he words I speak. That young m an has a secret way pecooliar t o him self, of get t ing at a boy, and at his heart , and at his liver. I t is in wain for a boy t o at t em pt t o hide him self from t hat young m an. A boy m ay lock his door, m ay be warm in bed, m ay t uck him self up, m ay draw t he clot hes over his head, m ay t hink him self com fort able and safe, but t hat young m an will soft ly creep and creep his way t o him and t ear him open. I am a- keeping t hat young m an from harm ing of you at t he present m om ent , wit h great difficult y. I find it wery hard t o hold t hat young m an off of your inside. Now, what do you say?” I said t hat I would get him t he file, and I would get him what broken bit s of food I could, and I would com e t o him at t he Bat t ery, early in t he m orning. “ Say Lord st rike you dead if you don't ! ” said t he m an. 7
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I said so, and he t ook m e down. “ Now,” he pursued, “ you rem em ber what you've undert ook, and you rem em ber t hat young m an, and you get hom e! ” “ Goo- good night , sir,” I falt ered. “ Much of t hat ! ” said he, glancing about him over t he cold wet flat . “ I wish I was a frog. Or a eel! ” At t he sam e t im e, he hugged his shuddering body in bot h his arm s—clasping him self, as if t o hold him self t oget her—and lim ped t owards t he low church wall. As I saw him go, picking his way am ong t he net t les, and am ong t he bram bles t hat bound t he green m ounds, he looked in m y young eyes as if he were eluding t he hands of t he dead people, st ret ching up caut iously out of t heir graves, t o get a t wist upon his ankle and pull him in. When he cam e t o t he low church wall, he got over it , like a m an whose legs were num bed and st iff, and t hen t urned round t o look for m e. When I saw him t urning, I set m y face t owards hom e, and m ade t he best use of m y legs. But present ly I looked over m y shoulder, and saw him going on again t owards t he river, st ill hugging him self in bot h arm s, and picking his way wit h his sore feet am ong t he great st ones dropped int o t he m arshes here and t here, for st epping- places when t he rains were heavy, or t he t ide was in. The m arshes were j ust a long black horizont al line t hen, as I st opped t o look aft er him ; and t he river was j ust anot her horizont al line, not nearly so broad nor yet so black; and t he sky was j ust a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines int erm ixed. On t he edge of t he river I could faint ly m ake 8
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
out t he only t wo black t hings in all t he prospect t hat seem ed t o be st anding upright ; one of t hese was t he beacon by which t he sailors st eered—like an unhooped cask upon a pole—an ugly t hing when you were near it ; t he ot her a gibbet , wit h som e chains hanging t o it which had once held a pirat e. The m an was lim ping on t owards t his lat t er, as if he were t he pirat e com e t o life, and com e down, and going back t o hook him self up again. I t gave m e a t errible t urn when I t hought so; and as I saw t he cat t le lift ing t heir heads t o gaze aft er him , I wondered whet her t hey t hought so t oo. I looked all round for t he horrible young m an, and could see no signs of him . But , now I was fright ened again, and ran hom e wit hout st opping.
9
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 2 My sist er, Mrs. Joe Gargery, was m ore t han t went y years older t han I , and had est ablished a great reput at ion wit h herself and t he neighbours because she had brought m e up “ by hand.” Having at t hat t im e t o find out for m yself what t he expression m eant , and knowing her t o have a hard and heavy hand, and t o be m uch in t he habit of laying it upon her husband as well as upon m e, I supposed t hat Joe Gargery and I were bot h brought up by hand. She was not a good- looking wom an, m y sist er; and I had a general im pression t hat she m ust have m ade Joe Gargery m arry her by hand. Joe was a fair m an, wit h curls of flaxen hair on each side of his sm oot h face, and wit h eyes of such a very undecided blue t hat t hey seem ed t o have som ehow got m ixed wit h t heir own whit es. He was a m ild, good- nat ured, sweet - t em pered, easy- going, foolish, dear fellow—a sort of Hercules in st rengt h, and also in weakness. My sist er, Mrs. Joe, wit h black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing redness of skin t hat I som et im es used t o wonder whet her it was possible she washed herself wit h a nut m eggrat er inst ead of soap. She was t all and bony, and alm ost always wore a coarse apron, fast ened over her figure behind wit h t wo loops, and having a square im pregnable bib in front , t hat was st uck full of pins and needles. She m ade it a powerful m erit in herself, and a st rong reproach against Joe, t hat she wore t his apron so m uch. Though I really see no reason why she should have worn it at all: or why, if she did 10
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wear it at all, she should not have t aken it off, every day of her life. Joe's forge adj oined our house, which was a wooden house, as m any of t he dwellings in our count ry were—m ost of t hem , at t hat t im e. When I ran hom e from t he churchyard, t he forge was shut up, and Joe was sit t ing alone in t he kit chen. Joe and I being fellow- sufferers, and having confidences as such, Joe im part ed a confidence t o m e, t he m om ent I raised t he lat ch of t he door and peeped in at him opposit e t o it , sit t ing in t he chim ney corner. “ Mrs. Joe has been out a dozen t im es, looking for you, Pip. And she's out now, m aking it a baker's dozen.” “ I s she?” “ Yes, Pip,” said Joe; “ and what 's worse, she's got Tickler wit h her.” At t his dism al int elligence, I t wist ed t he only but t on on m y waist coat round and round, and looked in great depression at t he fire. Tickler was a wax- ended piece of cane, worn sm oot h by collision wit h m y t ickled fram e. “ She sot down,” said Joe, “ and she got up, and she m ade a grab at Tickler, and she Ram - paged out . That 's what she did,” said Joe, slowly clearing t he fire bet ween t he lower bars wit h t he poker, and looking at it : “ she Ram - paged out , Pip.” “ Has she been gone long, Joe?” I always t reat ed him as a larger species of child, and as no m ore t han m y equal. “ Well,” said Joe, glancing up at t he Dut ch clock, “ she's been on t he Ram - page, t his last spell, about five m inut es, Pip. She's a- com ing! Get behind t he door, old chap, and have t he j ack- t owel bet wixt you.” 11
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t ook t he advice. My sist er, Mrs. Joe, t hrowing t he door wide open, and finding an obst ruct ion behind it , im m ediat ely divined t he cause, and applied Tickler t o it s furt her invest igat ion. She concluded by t hrowing m e—I oft en served as a connubial m issile—at Joe, who, glad t o get hold of m e on any t erm s, passed m e on int o t he chim ney and quiet ly fenced m e up t here wit h his great leg. “ Where have you been, you young m onkey?” said Mrs. Joe, st am ping her foot . “ Tell m e direct ly what you've been doing t o wear m e away wit h fret and fright and worrit , or I 'd have you out of t hat corner if you was fift y Pips, and he was five hundred Gargerys.” “ I have only been t o t he churchyard,” said I , from m y st ool, crying and rubbing m yself. “ Churchyard! ” repeat ed m y sist er. “ I f it warn't for m e you'd have been t o t he churchyard long ago, and st ayed t here. Who brought you up by hand?” “ You did,” said I . “ And why did I do it , I should like t o know?” exclaim ed m y sist er. I whim pered, “ I don't know.” “ I don't ! ” said m y sist er. “ I 'd never do it again! I know t hat . I m ay t ruly say I 've never had t his apron of m ine off, since born you were. I t 's bad enough t o be a blacksm it h's wife ( and him a Gargery) wit hout being your m ot her.” My t hought s st rayed from t hat quest ion as I looked disconsolat ely at t he fire. For, t he fugit ive out on t he m arshes wit h t he ironed leg, t he m yst erious young m an, t he file, t he food, and t he dreadful pledge I was under t o com m it a 12
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
larceny on t hose shelt ering prem ises, rose before m e in t he avenging coals. “ Hah! ” said Mrs. Joe, rest oring Tickler t o his st at ion. “ Churchyard, indeed! You m ay well say churchyard, you t wo.” One of us, by- t he- bye, had not said it at all. “ You'll drive m e t o t he churchyard bet wixt you, one of t hese days, and oh, a pr- r- recious pair you'd be wit hout m e! ” As she applied herself t o set t he t ea- t hings, Joe peeped down at m e over his leg, as if he were m ent ally cast ing m e and him self up, and calculat ing what kind of pair we pract ically should m ake, under t he grievous circum st ances foreshadowed. Aft er t hat , he sat feeling his right - side flaxen curls and whisker, and following Mrs. Joe about wit h his blue eyes, as his m anner always was at squally t im es. My sist er had a t renchant way of cut t ing our bread- andbut t er for us, t hat never varied. First , wit h her left hand she j am m ed t he loaf hard and fast against her bib—where it som et im es got a pin int o it , and som et im es a needle, which we aft erwards got int o our m out hs. Then she t ook som e but t er ( not t oo m uch) on a knife and spread it on t he loaf, in an apot hecary kind of way, as if she were m aking a plaist er— using bot h sides of t he knife wit h a slapping dext erit y, and t rim m ing and m oulding t he but t er off round t he crust . Then, she gave t he knife a final sm art wipe on t he edge of t he plaist er, and t hen sawed a very t hick round off t he loaf: which she finally, before separat ing from t he loaf, hewed int o t wo halves, of which Joe got one, and I t he ot her. On t he present occasion, t hough I was hungry, I dared not eat m y slice. I felt t hat I m ust have som et hing in reserve for 13
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m y dreadful acquaint ance, and his ally t he st ill m ore dreadful young m an. I knew Mrs. Joe's housekeeping t o be of t he st rict est kind, and t hat m y larcenous researches m ight find not hing available in t he safe. Therefore I resolved t o put m y hunk of bread- and- but t er down t he leg of m y t rousers. The effort of resolut ion necessary t o t he achievem ent of t his purpose, I found t o be quit e awful. I t was as if I had t o m ake up m y m ind t o leap from t he t op of a high house, or plunge int o a great dept h of wat er. And it was m ade t he m ore difficult by t he unconscious Joe. I n our already- m ent ioned freem asonry as fellow- sufferers, and in his good- nat ured com panionship wit h m e, it was our evening habit t o com pare t he way we bit t hrough our slices, by silent ly holding t hem up t o each ot her's adm irat ion now and t hen—which st im ulat ed us t o new exert ions. To- night , Joe several t im es invit ed m e, by t he display of his fast - dim inishing slice, t o ent er upon our usual friendly com pet it ion; but he found m e, each t im e, wit h m y yellow m ug of t ea on one knee, and m y unt ouched breadand- but t er on t he ot her. At last , I desperat ely considered t hat t he t hing I cont em plat ed m ust be done, and t hat it had best be done in t he least im probable m anner consist ent wit h t he circum st ances. I t ook advant age of a m om ent when Joe had j ust looked at m e, and got m y bread- and- but t er down m y leg. Joe was evident ly m ade uncom fort able by what he supposed t o be m y loss of appet it e, and t ook a t hought ful bit e out of his slice, which he didn't seem t o enj oy. He t urned it about in his m out h m uch longer t han usual, pondering over it a good deal, and aft er all gulped it down like a pill. He was about t o t ake anot her bit e, and had j ust got his head on one 14
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
side for a good purchase on it , when his eye fell on m e, and he saw t hat m y bread- and- but t er was gone. The wonder and const ernat ion wit h which Joe st opped on t he t hreshold of his bit e and st ared at m e, were t oo evident t o escape m y sist er's observat ion. “ What 's t he m at t er now?” said she, sm art ly, as she put down her cup. “ I say, you know! ” m ut t ered Joe, shaking his head at m e in very serious rem onst rance. “ Pip, old chap! You'll do yourself a m ischief. I t 'll st ick som ewhere. You can't have chawed it , Pip.” “ What 's t he m at t er now?” repeat ed m y sist er, m ore sharply t han before. “ I f you can cough any t rifle on it up, Pip, I 'd recom m end you t o do it ,” said Joe, all aghast . “ Manners is m anners, but st ill your elt h's your elt h.” By t his t im e, m y sist er was quit e desperat e, so she pounced on Joe, and, t aking him by t he t wo whiskers, knocked his head for a lit t le while against t he wall behind him : while I sat in t he corner, looking guilt ily on. “ Now, perhaps you'll m ent ion what 's t he m at t er,” said m y sist er, out of breat h, “ you st aring great st uck pig.” Joe looked at her in a helpless way; t hen t ook a helpless bit e, and looked at m e again. “ You know, Pip,” said Joe, solem nly, wit h his last bit e in his cheek and speaking in a confident ial voice, as if we t wo were quit e alone, “ you and m e is always friends, and I 'd be t he last t o t ell upon you, any t im e. But such a—” he m oved his chair 15
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and looked about t he floor bet ween us, and t hen again at m e—" such a m ost oncom m on Bolt as t hat ! ” “ Been bolt ing his food, has he?” cried m y sist er. “ You know, old chap,” said Joe, looking at m e, and not at Mrs. Joe, wit h his bit e st ill in his cheek, “ I Bolt ed, m yself, when I was your age—frequent —and as a boy I 've been am ong a m any Bolt ers; but I never see your Bolt ing equal yet , Pip, and it 's a m ercy you ain't Bolt ed dead.” My sist er m ade a dive at m e, and fished m e up by t he hair: saying not hing m ore t han t he awful words, “ You com e along and be dosed.” Som e m edical beast had revived Tar- wat er in t hose days as a fine m edicine, and Mrs. Joe always kept a supply of it in t he cupboard; having a belief in it s virt ues correspondent t o it s nast iness. At t he best of t im es, so m uch of t his elixir was adm inist ered t o m e as a choice rest orat ive, t hat I was conscious of going about , sm elling like a new fence. On t his part icular evening t he urgency of m y case dem anded a pint of t his m ixt ure, which was poured down m y t hroat , for m y great er com fort , while Mrs. Joe held m y head under her arm , as a boot would be held in a boot - j ack. Joe got off wit h half a pint ; but was m ade t o swallow t hat ( m uch t o his dist urbance, as he sat slowly m unching and m edit at ing before t he fire) , “ because he had had a t urn.” Judging from m yself, I should say he cert ainly had a t urn aft erwards, if he had had none before. Conscience is a dreadful t hing when it accuses m an or boy; but when, in t he case of a boy, t hat secret burden cooperat es wit h anot her secret burden down t he leg of his 16
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t rousers, it is ( as I can t est ify) a great punishm ent . The guilt y knowledge t hat I was going t o rob Mrs. Joe—I never t hought I was going t o rob Joe, for I never t hought of any of t he housekeeping propert y as his—unit ed t o t he necessit y of always keeping one hand on m y bread- and- but t er as I sat , or when I was ordered about t he kit chen on any sm all errand, alm ost drove m e out of m y m ind. Then, as t he m arsh winds m ade t he fire glow and flare, I t hought I heard t he voice out side, of t he m an wit h t he iron on his leg who had sworn m e t o secrecy, declaring t hat he couldn't and wouldn't st arve unt il t o- m orrow, but m ust be fed now. At ot her t im es, I t hought , What if t he young m an who was wit h so m uch difficult y rest rained from im bruing his hands in m e, should yield t o a const it ut ional im pat ience, or should m ist ake t he t im e, and should t hink him self accredit ed t o m y heart and liver t o- night , inst ead of t o- m orrow! I f ever anybody's hair st ood on end wit h t error, m ine m ust have done so t hen. But , perhaps, nobody's ever did? I t was Christ m as Eve, and I had t o st ir t he pudding for next day, wit h a copper- st ick, from seven t o eight by t he Dut ch clock. I t ried it wit h t he load upon m y leg ( and t hat m ade m e t hink afresh of t he m an wit h t he load on his leg) , and found t he t endency of exercise t o bring t he bread- andbut t er out at m y ankle, quit e unm anageable. Happily, I slipped away, and deposit ed t hat part of m y conscience in m y garret bedroom . “ Hark! ” said I , when I had done m y st irring, and was t aking a final warm in t he chim ney corner before being sent up t o bed; “ was t hat great guns, Joe?” 17
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Ah! ” said Joe. “ There's anot her conwict off.” “ What does t hat m ean, Joe?” said I . Mrs. Joe, who always t ook explanat ions upon herself, said, snappishly, “ Escaped. Escaped.” Adm inist ering t he definit ion like Tar- wat er. While Mrs. Joe sat wit h her head bending over her needlework, I put m y m out h int o t he form s of saying t o Joe, “ What 's a convict ?” Joe put his m out h int o t he form s of ret urning such a highly elaborat e answer, t hat I could m ake out not hing of it but t he single word “ Pip.” “ There was a conwict off last night ,” said Joe, aloud, “ aft er sun- set - gun. And t hey fired warning of him . And now, it appears t hey're firing warning of anot her.” “ Who's firing?” said I . “ Drat t hat boy,” int erposed m y sist er, frowning at m e over her work, “ what a quest ioner he is. Ask no quest ions, and you'll be t old no lies.” I t was not very polit e t o herself, I t hought , t o im ply t hat I should be t old lies by her, even if I did ask quest ions. But she never was polit e, unless t here was com pany. At t his point , Joe great ly augm ent ed m y curiosit y by t aking t he ut m ost pains t o open his m out h very wide, and t o put it int o t he form of a word t hat looked t o m e like “ sulks.” Therefore, I nat urally point ed t o Mrs. Joe, and put m y m out h int o t he form of saying “ her?” But Joe wouldn't hear of t hat , at all, and again opened his m out h very wide, and shook t he form of a m ost em phat ic word out of it . But I could m ake not hing of t he word. 18
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Mrs. Joe,” said I , as a last resort , “ I should like t o know— if you wouldn't m uch m ind—where t he firing com es from ?” “ Lord bless t he boy! ” exclaim ed m y sist er, as if she didn't quit e m ean t hat , but rat her t he cont rary. “ From t he Hulks! ” “ Oh- h! ” said I , looking at Joe. “ Hulks! ” Joe gave a reproachful cough, as m uch as t o say, “ Well, I t old you so.” “ And please what 's Hulks?” said I . “ That 's t he way wit h t his boy! ” exclaim ed m y sist er, point ing m e out wit h her needle and t hread, and shaking her head at m e. “ Answer him one quest ion, and he'll ask you a dozen direct ly. Hulks are prison- ships, right ‘cross t h’ m eshes.” We always used t hat nam e for m arshes, in our count ry. “ I wonder who's put int o prison- ships, and why t hey're put t here?” said I , in a general way, and wit h quiet desperat ion. I t was t oo m uch for Mrs. Joe, who im m ediat ely rose. “ I t ell you what , young fellow,” said she, “ I didn't bring you up by hand t o badger people's lives out . I t would be blam e t o m e, and not praise, if I had. People are put in t he Hulks because t hey m urder, and because t hey rob, and forge, and do all sort s of bad; and t hey always begin by asking quest ions. Now, you get along t o bed! ” I was never allowed a candle t o light m e t o bed, and, as I went upst airs in t he dark, wit h m y head t ingling—from Mrs. Joe's t him ble having played t he t am bourine upon it , t o accom pany her last words—I felt fearfully sensible of t he great convenience t hat t he Hulks were handy for m e. I was 19
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
clearly on m y way t here. I had begun by asking quest ions, and I was going t o rob Mrs. Joe. Since t hat t im e, which is far enough away now, I have oft en t hought t hat few people know what secrecy t here is in t he young, under t error. No m at t er how unreasonable t he t error, so t hat it be t error. I was in m ort al t error of t he young m an who want ed m y heart and liver; I was in m ort al t error of m y int erlocut or wit h t he ironed leg; I was in m ort al t error of m yself, from whom an awful prom ise had been ext ract ed; I had no hope of deliverance t hrough m y all- powerful sist er, who repulsed m e at every t urn; I am afraid t o t hink of what I m ight have done, on requirem ent , in t he secrecy of m y t error. I f I slept at all t hat night , it was only t o im agine m yself drift ing down t he river on a st rong spring- t ide, t o t he Hulks; a ghost ly pirat e calling out t o m e t hrough a speaking- t rum pet , as I passed t he gibbet - st at ion, t hat I had bet t er com e ashore and be hanged t here at once, and not put it off. I was afraid t o sleep, even if I had been inclined, for I knew t hat at t he first faint dawn of m orning I m ust rob t he pant ry. There was no doing it in t he night , for t here was no get t ing a light by easy frict ion t hen; t o have got one, I m ust have st ruck it out of flint and st eel, and have m ade a noise like t he very pirat e him self rat t ling his chains. As soon as t he great black velvet pall out side m y lit t le window was shot wit h grey, I got up and went down st airs; every board upon t he way, and every crack in every board, calling aft er m e, “ St op t hief! ” and “ Get up, Mrs. Joe! ” I n t he pant ry, which was far m ore abundant ly supplied t han usual, owing t o t he season, I was very m uch alarm ed, by a hare 20
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
hanging up by t he heels, whom I rat her t hought I caught , when m y back was half t urned, winking. I had no t im e for verificat ion, no t im e for select ion, no t im e for anyt hing, for I had no t im e t o spare. I st ole som e bread, som e rind of cheese, about half a j ar of m incem eat ( which I t ied up in m y pocket - handkerchief wit h m y last night 's slice) , som e brandy from a st one bot t le ( which I decant ed int o a glass bot t le I had secret ly used for m aking t hat int oxicat ing fluid, Spanishliquorice- wat er, up in m y room : dilut ing t he st one bot t le from a j ug in t he kit chen cupboard) , a m eat bone wit h very lit t le on it , and a beaut iful round com pact pork pie. I was nearly going away wit hout t he pie, but I was t em pt ed t o m ount upon a shelf, t o look what it was t hat was put away so carefully in a covered eart hen ware dish in a corner, and I found it was t he pie, and I t ook it , in t he hope t hat it was not int ended for early use, and would not be m issed for som e t im e. There was a door in t he kit chen, com m unicat ing wit h t he forge; I unlocked and unbolt ed t hat door, and got a file from am ong Joe's t ools. Then, I put t he fast enings as I had found t hem , opened t he door at which I had ent ered when I ran hom e last night , shut it , and ran for t he m ist y m arshes.
21
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 3 I t was a rim y m orning, and very dam p. I had seen t he dam p lying on t he out side of m y lit t le window, as if som e goblin had been crying t here all night , and using t he window for a pocket - handkerchief. Now, I saw t he dam p lying on t he bare hedges and spare grass, like a coarser sort of spiders’ webs; hanging it self from t wig t o t wig and blade t o blade. On every rail and gat e, wet lay clam m y; and t he m arsh- m ist was so t hick, t hat t he wooden finger on t he post direct ing people t o our village—a direct ion which t hey never accept ed, for t hey never cam e t here—was invisible t o m e unt il I was quit e close under it . Then, as I looked up at it , while it dripped, it seem ed t o m y oppressed conscience like a phant om devot ing m e t o t he Hulks. The m ist was heavier yet when I got out upon t he m arshes, so t hat inst ead of m y running at everyt hing, everyt hing seem ed t o run at m e. This was very disagreeable t o a guilt y m ind. The gat es and dykes and banks cam e burst ing at m e t hrough t he m ist , as if t hey cried as plainly as could be, “ A boy wit h Som ebody- else's pork pie! St op him ! ” The cat t le cam e upon m e wit h like suddenness, st aring out of t heir eyes, and st eam ing out of t heir nost rils, “ Holloa, young t hief! ” One black ox, wit h a whit e cravat on—who even had t o m y awakened conscience som et hing of a clerical air—fixed m e so obst inat ely wit h his eyes, and m oved his blunt head round in such an accusat ory m anner as I m oved round, t hat I blubbered out t o him , “ I couldn't help it , sir! I t wasn't for 22
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m yself I t ook it ! ” Upon which he put down his head, blew a cloud of sm oke out of his nose, and vanished wit h a kick- up of his hind- legs and a flourish of his t ail. All t his t im e, I was get t ing on t owards t he river; but however fast I went , I couldn't warm m y feet , t o which t he dam p cold seem ed rivet ed, as t he iron was rivet ed t o t he leg of t he m an I was running t o m eet . I knew m y way t o t he Bat t ery, pret t y st raight , for I had been down t here on a Sunday wit h Joe, and Joe, sit t ing on an old gun, had t old m e t hat when I was ‘prent ice t o him regularly bound, we would have such Larks t here! However, in t he confusion of t he m ist , I found m yself at last t oo far t o t he right , and consequent ly had t o t ry back along t he river- side, on t he bank of loose st ones above t he m ud and t he st akes t hat st aked t he t ide out . Making m y way along here wit h all despat ch, I had j ust crossed a dit ch which I knew t o be very near t he Bat t ery, and had j ust scram bled up t he m ound beyond t he dit ch, when I saw t he m an sit t ing before m e. His back was t owards m e, and he had his arm s folded, and was nodding forward, heavy wit h sleep. I t hought he would be m ore glad if I cam e upon him wit h his breakfast , in t hat unexpect ed m anner, so I went forward soft ly and t ouched him on t he shoulder. He inst ant ly j um ped up, and it was not t he sam e m an, but anot her m an! And yet t his m an was dressed in coarse grey, t oo, and had a great iron on his leg, and was lam e, and hoarse, and cold, and was everyt hing t hat t he ot her m an was; except t hat he had not t he sam e face, and had a flat broad- brim m ed lowcrowned felt t hat on. All t his, I saw in a m om ent , for I had 23
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
only a m om ent t o see it in: he swore an oat h at m e, m ade a hit at m e—it was a round weak blow t hat m issed m e and alm ost knocked him self down, for it m ade him st um ble—and t hen he ran int o t he m ist , st um bling t wice as he went , and I lost him . “ I t 's t he young m an! ” I t hought , feeling m y heart shoot as I ident ified him . I dare say I should have felt a pain in m y liver, t oo, if I had known where it was. I was soon at t he Bat t ery, aft er t hat , and t here was t he right m an- hugging him self and lim ping t o and fro, as if he had never all night left off hugging and lim ping—wait ing for m e. He was awfully cold, t o be sure. I half expect ed t o see him drop down before m y face and die of deadly cold. His eyes looked so awfully hungry, t oo, t hat when I handed him t he file and he laid it down on t he grass, it occurred t o m e he would have t ried t o eat it , if he had not seen m y bundle. He did not t urn m e upside down, t his t im e, t o get at what I had, but left m e right side upwards while I opened t he bundle and em pt ied m y pocket s. “ What 's in t he bot t le, boy?” said he. “ Brandy,” said I . He was already handing m incem eat down his t hroat in t he m ost curious m anner—m ore like a m an who was put t ing it away som ewhere in a violent hurry, t han a m an who was eat ing it —but he left off t o t ake som e of t he liquor. He shivered all t he while, so violent ly, t hat it was quit e as m uch as he could do t o keep t he neck of t he bot t le bet ween his t eet h, wit hout bit ing it off. “ I t hink you have got t he ague,” said I . 24
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I 'm m uch of your opinion, boy,” said he. “ I t 's bad about here,” I t old him . “ You've been lying out on t he m eshes, and t hey're dreadful aguish. Rheum at ic t oo.” “ I 'll eat m y breakfast afore t hey're t he deat h of m e,” said he. “ I 'd do t hat , if I was going t o be st rung up t o t hat t here gallows as t here is over t here, direct ly aft erwards. I 'll beat t he shivers so far, I 'll bet you.” He was gobbling m incem eat , m eat bone, bread, cheese, and pork pie, all at once: st aring dist rust fully while he did so at t he m ist all round us, and oft en st opping—even st opping his j aws—t o list en. Som e real or fancied sound, som e clink upon t he river or breat hing of beast upon t he m arsh, now gave him a st art , and he said, suddenly: “ You're not a deceiving im p? You brought no one wit h you?” “ No, sir! No! ” “ Nor giv’ no one t he office t o follow you?” “ No! ” “ Well,” said he, “ I believe you. You'd be but a fierce young hound indeed, if at your t im e of life you could help t o hunt a wret ched warm int , hunt ed as near deat h and dunghill as t his poor wret ched warm int is! ” Som et hing clicked in his t hroat , as if he had works in him like a clock, and was going t o st rike. And he sm eared his ragged rough sleeve over his eyes. Pit ying his desolat ion, and wat ching him as he gradually set t led down upon t he pie, I m ade bold t o say, “ I am glad you enj oy it .” “ Did you speak?” 25
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I said I was glad you enj oyed it .” “ Thankee, m y boy. I do.” I had oft en wat ched a large dog of ours eat ing his food; and I now not iced a decided sim ilarit y bet ween t he dog's way of eat ing, and t he m an's. The m an t ook st rong sharp sudden bit es, j ust like t he dog. He swallowed, or rat her snapped up, every m out hful, t oo soon and t oo fast ; and he looked sideways here and t here while he at e, as if he t hought t here was danger in every direct ion, of som ebody's com ing t o t ake t he pie away. He was alt oget her t oo unset t led in his m ind over it , t o appreciat e it com fort ably, I t hought , or t o have anybody t o dine wit h him , wit hout m aking a chop wit h his j aws at t he visit or. I n all of which part iculars he was very like t he dog. “ I am afraid you won't leave any of it for him ,” said I , t im idly; aft er a silence during which I had hesit at ed as t o t he polit eness of m aking t he rem ark. “ There's no m ore t o be got where t hat cam e from .” I t was t he cert aint y of t his fact t hat im pelled m e t o offer t he hint . “ Leave any for him ? Who's him ?” said m y friend, st opping in his crunching of pie- crust . “ The young m an. That you spoke of. That was hid wit h you.” “ Oh ah! ” he ret urned, wit h som et hing like a gruff laugh. “ Him ? Yes, yes! He don't want no wit t les.” “ I t hought he looked as if he did,” said I . The m an st opped eat ing, and regarded m e wit h t he keenest scrut iny and t he great est surprise. “ Looked? When?” 26
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Just now.” “ Where?” “ Yonder,” said I , point ing; “ over t here, where I found him nodding asleep, and t hought it was you.” He held m e by t he collar and st ared at m e so, t hat I began t o t hink his first idea about cut t ing m y t hroat had revived. “ Dressed like you, you know, only wit h a hat ,” I explained, t rem bling; “ and—and" —I was very anxious t o put t his delicat ely—" and wit h—t he sam e reason for want ing t o borrow a file. Didn't you hear t he cannon last night ?” “ Then, t here was firing! ” he said t o him self. “ I wonder you shouldn't have been sure of t hat ,” I ret urned, “ for we heard it up at hom e, and t hat 's furt her away, and we were shut in besides.” “ Why, see now! ” said he. “ When a m an's alone on t hese flat s, wit h a light head and a light st om ach, perishing of cold and want , he hears not hin’ all night , but guns firing, and voices calling. Hears? He sees t he soldiers, wit h t heir red coat s light ed up by t he t orches carried afore, closing in round him . Hears his num ber called, hears him self challenged, hears t he rat t le of t he m usket s, hears t he orders ‘Make ready! Present ! Cover him st eady, m en! ’ and is laid hands on—and t here's not hin'! Why, if I see one pursuing part y last night — com ing up in order, Dam n ‘em , wit h t heir t ram p, t ram p—I see a hundred. And as t o firing! Why, I see t he m ist shake wit h t he cannon, art er it was broad day—But t his m an; ” he had said all t he rest , as if he had forgot t en m y being t here; “ did you not ice anyt hing in him ?” 27
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ He had a badly bruised face,” said I , recalling what I hardly knew I knew. “ Not here?” exclaim ed t he m an, st riking his left cheek m ercilessly, wit h t he flat of his hand. “ Yes, t here! ” “ Where is he?” He cram m ed what lit t le food was left , int o t he breast of his grey j acket . “ Show m e t he way he went . I 'll pull him down, like a bloodhound. Curse t his iron on m y sore leg! Give us hold of t he file, boy.” I indicat ed in what direct ion t he m ist had shrouded t he ot her m an, and he looked up at it for an inst ant . But he was down on t he rank wet grass, filing at his iron like a m adm an, and not m inding m e or m inding his own leg, which had an old chafe upon it and was bloody, but which he handled as roughly as if it had no m ore feeling in it t han t he file. I was very m uch afraid of him again, now t hat he had worked him self int o t his fierce hurry, and I was likewise very m uch afraid of keeping away from hom e any longer. I t old him I m ust go, but he t ook no not ice, so I t hought t he best t hing I could do was t o slip off. The last I saw of him , his head was bent over his knee and he was working hard at his fet t er, m ut t ering im pat ient im precat ions at it and at his leg. The last I heard of him , I st opped in t he m ist t o list en, and t he file was st ill going.
28
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 4 I fully expect ed t o find a Const able in t he kit chen, wait ing t o t ake m e up. But not only was t here no Const able t here, but no discovery had yet been m ade of t he robbery. Mrs. Joe was prodigiously busy in get t ing t he house ready for t he fest ivit ies of t he day, and Joe had been put upon t he kit chen door- st ep t o keep him out of t he dust - pan—an art icle int o which his dest iny always led him sooner or lat er, when m y sist er was vigorously reaping t he floors of her est ablishm ent . “ And where t he deuce ha’ you been?” was Mrs. Joe's Christ m as salut at ion, when I and m y conscience showed ourselves. I said I had been down t o hear t he Carols. “ Ah! well! ” observed Mrs. Joe. “ You m ight ha’ done worse.” Not a doubt of t hat , I t hought . “ Perhaps if I warn't a blacksm it h's wife, and ( what 's t he sam e t hing) a slave wit h her apron never off, I should have been t o hear t he Carols,” said Mrs. Joe. “ I 'm rat her part ial t o Carols, m yself, and t hat 's t he best of reasons for m y never hearing any.” Joe, who had vent ured int o t he kit chen aft er m e as t he dust - pan had ret ired before us, drew t he back of his hand across his nose wit h a conciliat ory air when Mrs. Joe dart ed a look at him , and, when her eyes were wit hdrawn, secret ly crossed his t wo forefingers, and exhibit ed t hem t o m e, as our t oken t hat Mrs. Joe was in a cross t em per. This was so m uch her norm al st at e, t hat Joe and I would oft en, for weeks 29
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t oget her, be, as t o our fingers, like m onum ent al Crusaders as t o t heir legs. We were t o have a superb dinner, consist ing of a leg of pickled pork and greens, and a pair of roast st uffed fowls. A handsom e m ince- pie had been m ade yest erday m orning ( which account ed for t he m incem eat not being m issed) , and t he pudding was already on t he boil. These ext ensive arrangem ent s occasioned us t o be cut off uncerem oniously in respect of breakfast ; “ for I an't ,” said Mrs. Joe, “ I an't a- going t o have no form al cram m ing and bust ing and washing up now, wit h what I 've got before m e, I prom ise you! ” So, we had our slices served out , as if we were t wo t housand t roops on a forced m arch inst ead of a m an and boy at hom e; and we t ook gulps of m ilk and wat er, wit h apologet ic count enances, from a j ug on t he dresser. I n t he m eant im e, Mrs. Joe put clean whit e curt ains up, and t acked a new flowered- flounce across t he wide chim ney t o replace t he old one, and uncovered t he lit t le st at e parlour across t he passage, which was never uncovered at any ot her t im e, but passed t he rest of t he year in a cool haze of silver paper, which even ext ended t o t he four lit t le whit e crockery poodles on t he m ant elshelf, each wit h a black nose and a basket of flowers in his m out h, and each t he count erpart of t he ot her. Mrs. Joe was a very clean housekeeper, but had an exquisit e art of m aking her cleanliness m ore uncom fort able and unaccept able t han dirt it self. Cleanliness is next t o Godliness, and som e people do t he sam e by t heir religion. My sist er having so m uch t o do, was going t o church vicariously; t hat is t o say, Joe and I were going. I n his 30
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
working clot hes, Joe was a well- knit charact erist ic- looking blacksm it h; in his holiday clot hes, he was m ore like a scarecrow in good circum st ances, t han anyt hing else. Not hing t hat he wore t hen, fit t ed him or seem ed t o belong t o him ; and everyt hing t hat he wore t hen, grazed him . On t he present fest ive occasion he em erged from his room , when t he blit he bells were going, t he pict ure of m isery, in a full suit of Sunday penit ent ials. As t o m e, I t hink m y sist er m ust have had som e general idea t hat I was a young offender whom an Accoucheur Policem en had t aken up ( on m y birt hday) and delivered over t o her, t o be dealt wit h according t o t he out raged m aj est y of t he law. I was always t reat ed as if I had insist ed on being born, in opposit ion t o t he dict at es of reason, religion, and m oralit y, and against t he dissuading argum ent s of m y best friends. Even when I was t aken t o have a new suit of clot hes, t he t ailor had orders t o m ake t hem like a kind of Reform at ory, and on no account t o let m e have t he free use of m y lim bs. Joe and I going t o church, t herefore, m ust have been a m oving spect acle for com passionat e m inds. Yet , what I suffered out side, was not hing t o what I underwent wit hin. The t errors t hat had assailed m e whenever Mrs. Joe had gone near t he pant ry, or out of t he room , were only t o be equalled by t he rem orse wit h which m y m ind dwelt on what m y hands had done. Under t he weight of m y wicked secret , I pondered whet her t he Church would be powerful enough t o shield m e from t he vengeance of t he t errible young m an, if I divulged t o t hat est ablishm ent . I conceived t he idea t hat t he t im e when t he banns were read and when t he clergym an said, “ Ye are 31
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
now t o declare it ! ” would be t he t im e for m e t o rise and propose a privat e conference in t he vest ry. I am far from being sure t hat I m ight not have ast onished our sm all congregat ion by resort ing t o t his ext rem e m easure, but for it s being Christ m as Day and no Sunday. Mr. Wopsle, t he clerk at church, was t o dine wit h us; and Mr. Hubble t he wheelwright and Mrs. Hubble; and Uncle Pum blechook ( Joe's uncle, but Mrs. Joe appropriat ed him ) , who was a well- t o- do corn- chandler in t he nearest t own, and drove his own chaise- cart . The dinner hour was half- past one. When Joe and I got hom e, we found t he t able laid, and Mrs. Joe dressed, and t he dinner dressing, and t he front door unlocked ( it never was at any ot her t im e) for t he com pany t o ent er by, and everyt hing m ost splendid. And st ill, not a word of t he robbery. The t im e cam e, wit hout bringing wit h it any relief t o m y feelings, and t he com pany cam e. Mr. Wopsle, unit ed t o a Rom an nose and a large shining bald forehead, had a deep voice which he was uncom m only proud of; indeed it was underst ood am ong his acquaint ance t hat if you could only give him his head, he would read t he clergym an int o fit s; he him self confessed t hat if t he Church was “ t hrown open,” m eaning t o com pet it ion, he would not despair of m aking his m ark in it . The Church not being “ t hrown open,” he was, as I have said, our clerk. But he punished t he Am ens t rem endously; and when he gave out t he psalm —always giving t he whole verse—he looked all round t he congregat ion first , as m uch as t o say, “ You have heard m y friend overhead; oblige m e wit h your opinion of t his st yle! ” 32
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I opened t he door t o t he com pany—m aking believe t hat it was a habit of ours t o open t hat door—and I opened it first t o Mr. Wopsle, next t o Mr. and Mrs. Hubble, and last of all t o Uncle Pum blechook. N.B., I was not allowed t o call him uncle, under t he severest penalt ies. “ Mrs. Joe,” said Uncle Pum blechook: a large hardbreat hing m iddle- aged slow m an, wit h a m out h like a fish, dull st aring eyes, and sandy hair st anding upright on his head, so t hat he looked as if he had j ust been all but choked, and had t hat m om ent com e t o; “ I have brought you, as t he com plim ent s of t he season—I have brought you, Mum , a bot t le of sherry wine—and I have brought you, Mum , a bot t le of port wine.” Every Christ m as Day he present ed him self, as a profound novelt y, wit h exact ly t he sam e words, and carrying t he t wo bot t les like dum b- bells. Every Christ m as Day, Mrs. Joe replied, as she now replied, “ Oh, Un—cle Pum —ble—chook! This I S kind! ” Every Christ m as Day, he ret ort ed, as he now ret ort ed, “ I t 's no m ore t han your m erit s. And now are you all bobbish, and how's Sixpennort h of halfpence?” m eaning m e. We dined on t hese occasions in t he kit chen, and adj ourned, for t he nut s and oranges and apples, t o t he parlour; which was a change very like Joe's change from his working clot hes t o his Sunday dress. My sist er was uncom m only lively on t he present occasion, and indeed was generally m ore gracious in t he societ y of Mrs. Hubble t han in ot her com pany. I rem em ber Mrs. Hubble as a lit t le curly sharp- edged person in sky- blue, who held a convent ionally j uvenile posit ion, because she had m arried Mr. Hubble—I 33
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
don't know at what rem ot e period—when she was m uch younger t han he. I rem em ber Mr Hubble as a t ough highshouldered st ooping old m an, of a sawdust y fragrance, wit h his legs ext raordinarily wide apart : so t hat in m y short days I always saw som e m iles of open count ry bet ween t hem when I m et him com ing up t he lane. Am ong t his good com pany I should have felt m yself, even if I hadn't robbed t he pant ry, in a false posit ion. Not because I was squeezed in at an acut e angle of t he t able- clot h, wit h t he t able in m y chest , and t he Pum blechookian elbow in m y eye, nor because I was not allowed t o speak ( I didn't want t o speak) , nor because I was regaled wit h t he scaly t ips of t he drum st icks of t he fowls, and wit h t hose obscure corners of pork of which t he pig, when living, had had t he least reason t o be vain. No; I should not have m inded t hat , if t hey would only have left m e alone. But t hey wouldn't leave m e alone. They seem ed t o t hink t he opport unit y lost , if t hey failed t o point t he conversat ion at m e, every now and t hen, and st ick t he point int o m e. I m ight have been an unfort unat e lit t le bull in a Spanish arena, I got so sm art ingly t ouched up by t hese m oral goads. I t began t he m om ent we sat down t o dinner. Mr. Wopsle said grace wit h t heat rical declam at ion—as it now appears t o m e, som et hing like a religious cross of t he Ghost in Ham let wit h Richard t he Third—and ended wit h t he very proper aspirat ion t hat we m ight be t ruly grat eful. Upon which m y sist er fixed m e wit h her eye, and said, in a low reproachful voice, “ Do you hear t hat ? Be grat eful.” 34
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Especially,” said Mr. Pum blechook, “ be grat eful, boy, t o t hem which brought you up by hand.” Mrs. Hubble shook her head, and cont em plat ing m e wit h a m ournful present im ent t hat I should com e t o no good, asked, “ Why is it t hat t he young are never grat eful?” This m oral m yst ery seem ed t oo m uch for t he com pany unt il Mr. Hubble t ersely solved it by saying, “ Nat erally wicious.” Everybody t hen m urm ured “ True! ” and looked at m e in a part icularly unpleasant and personal m anner. Joe's st at ion and influence were som et hing feebler ( if possible) when t here was com pany, t han when t here was none. But he always aided and com fort ed m e when he could, in som e way of his own, and he always did so at dinner- t im e by giving m e gravy, if t here were any. There being plent y of gravy t o- day, Joe spooned int o m y plat e, at t his point , about half a pint . A lit t le lat er on in t he dinner, Mr. Wopsle reviewed t he serm on wit h som e severit y, and int im at ed—in t he usual hypot het ical case of t he Church being “ t hrown open" —what kind of serm on he would have given t hem . Aft er favouring t hem wit h som e heads of t hat discourse, he rem arked t hat he considered t he subj ect of t he day's hom ily, ill- chosen; which was t he less excusable, he added, when t here were so m any subj ect s “ going about .” “ True again,” said Uncle Pum blechook. “ You've hit it , sir! Plent y of subj ect s going about , for t hem t hat know how t o put salt upon t heir t ails. That 's what 's want ed. A m an needn't go far t o find a subj ect , if he's ready wit h his salt - box.” Mr. Pum blechook added, aft er a short int erval of reflect ion, “ Look 35
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
at Pork alone. There's a subj ect ! I f you want a subj ect , look at Pork! ” “ True, sir. Many a m oral for t he young,” ret urned Mr. Wopsle; and I knew he was going t o lug m e in, before he said it ; “ m ight be deduced from t hat t ext .” ( " You list en t o t his,” said m y sist er t o m e, in a severe parent hesis.) Joe gave m e som e m ore gravy. “ Swine,” pursued Mr. Wopsle, in his deepest voice, and point ing his fork at m y blushes, as if he were m ent ioning m y Christ ian nam e; “ Swine were t he com panions of t he prodigal. The glut t ony of Swine is put before us, as an exam ple t o t he young.” ( I t hought t his pret t y well in him who had been praising up t he pork for being so plum p and j uicy.) “ What is det est able in a pig, is m ore det est able in a boy.” “ Or girl,” suggest ed Mr. Hubble. “ Of course, or girl, Mr. Hubble,” assent ed Mr. Wopsle, rat her irrit ably, “ but t here is no girl present .” “ Besides,” said Mr. Pum blechook, t urning sharp on m e, “ t hink what you've got t o be grat eful for. I f you'd been born a Squeaker—” “ He was, if ever a child was,” said m y sist er, m ost em phat ically. Joe gave m e som e m ore gravy. “ Well, but I m ean a four- foot ed Squeaker,” said Mr. Pum blechook. “ I f you had been born such, would you have been here now? Not you—” “ Unless in t hat form ,” said Mr. Wopsle, nodding t owards t he dish. 36
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ But I don't m ean in t hat form , sir,” ret urned Mr. Pum blechook, who had an obj ect ion t o being int errupt ed; “ I m ean, enj oying him self wit h his elders and bet t ers, and im proving him self wit h t heir conversat ion, and rolling in t he lap of luxury. Would he have been doing t hat ? No, he wouldn't . And what would have been your dest inat ion?” t urning on m e again. “ You would have been disposed of for so m any shillings according t o t he m arket price of t he art icle, and Dunst able t he but cher would have com e up t o you as you lay in your st raw, and he would have whipped you under his left arm , and wit h his right he would have t ucked up his frock t o get a penknife from out of his waist coat - pocket , and he would have shed your blood and had your life. No bringing up by hand t hen. Not a bit of it ! ” Joe offered m e m ore gravy, which I was afraid t o t ake. “ He was a world of t rouble t o you, m a'am ,” said Mrs. Hubble, com m iserat ing m y sist er. “ Trouble?” echoed m y sist er; “ t rouble?” and t hen ent ered on a fearful cat alogue of all t he illnesses I had been guilt y of, and all t he act s of sleeplessness I had com m it t ed, and all t he high places I had t um bled from , and all t he low places I had t um bled int o, and all t he inj uries I had done m yself, and all t he t im es she had wished m e in m y grave, and I had cont um aciously refused t o go t here. I t hink t he Rom ans m ust have aggravat ed one anot her very m uch, wit h t heir noses. Perhaps, t hey becam e t he rest less people t hey were, in consequence. Anyhow, Mr. Wopsle's Rom an nose so aggravat ed m e, during t he recit al of m y m isdem eanours, t hat I should have liked t o pull it unt il he 37
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
howled. But , all I had endured up t o t his t im e, was not hing in com parison wit h t he awful feelings t hat t ook possession of m e when t he pause was broken which ensued upon m y sist er's recit al, and in which pause everybody had looked at m e ( as I felt painfully conscious) wit h indignat ion and abhorrence. “ Yet ,” said Mr. Pum blechook, leading t he com pany gent ly back t o t he t hem e from which t hey had st rayed, “ Pork— regarded as biled—is rich, t oo; ain't it ?” “ Have a lit t le brandy, uncle,” said m y sist er. O Heavens, it had com e at last ! He would find it was weak, he would say it was weak, and I was lost ! I held t ight t o t he leg of t he t able under t he clot h, wit h bot h hands, and await ed m y fat e. My sist er went for t he st one bot t le, cam e back wit h t he st one bot t le, and poured his brandy out : no one else t aking any. The wret ched m an t rifled wit h his glass—t ook it up, looked at it t hrough t he light , put it down—prolonged m y m isery. All t his t im e, Mrs. Joe and Joe were briskly clearing t he t able for t he pie and pudding. I couldn't keep m y eyes off him . Always holding t ight by t he leg of t he t able wit h m y hands and feet , I saw t he m iserable creat ure finger his glass playfully, t ake it up, sm ile, t hrow his head back, and drink t he brandy off. I nst ant ly aft erwards, t he com pany were seized wit h unspeakable const ernat ion, owing t o his springing t o his feet , t urning round several t im es in an appalling spasm odic whoopingcough dance, and rushing out at t he door; he t hen becam e visible t hrough t he window, violent ly plunging and 38
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
expect orat ing, m aking t he m ost hideous faces, and apparent ly out of his m ind. I held on t ight , while Mrs. Joe and Joe ran t o him . I didn't know how I had done it , but I had no doubt I had m urdered him som ehow. I n m y dreadful sit uat ion, it was a relief when he was brought back, and, surveying t he com pany all round as if t hey had disagreed wit h him , sank down int o his chair wit h t he one significant gasp, “ Tar! ” I had filled up t he bot t le from t he t ar- wat er j ug. I knew he would be worse by- and- by. I m oved t he t able, like a Medium of t he present day, by t he vigour of m y unseen hold upon it . “ Tar! ” cried m y sist er, in am azem ent . “ Why, how ever could Tar com e t here?” But , Uncle Pum blechook, who was om nipot ent in t hat kit chen, wouldn't hear t he word, wouldn't hear of t he subj ect , im periously waved it all away wit h his hand, and asked for hot gin- and- wat er. My sist er, who had begun t o be alarm ingly m edit at ive, had t o em ploy herself act ively in get t ing t he gin, t he hot wat er, t he sugar, and t he lem on- peel, and m ixing t hem . For t he t im e being at least , I was saved. I st ill held on t o t he leg of t he t able, but clut ched it now wit h t he fervour of grat it ude. By degrees, I becam e calm enough t o release m y grasp and part ake of pudding. Mr. Pum blechook part ook of pudding. All part ook of pudding. The course t erm inat ed, and Mr. Pum blechook had begun t o beam under t he genial influence of gin- and- wat er. I began t o t hink I should get over t he day, when m y sist er said t o Joe, “ Clean plat es—cold.” 39
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I clut ched t he leg of t he t able again im m ediat ely, and pressed it t o m y bosom as if it had been t he com panion of m y yout h and friend of m y soul. I foresaw what was com ing, and I felt t hat t his t im e I really was gone. “ You m ust t ast e,” said m y sist er, addressing t he guest s wit h her best grace, “ You m ust t ast e, t o finish wit h, such a delight ful and delicious present of Uncle Pum blechook's! ” Must t hey! Let t hem not hope t o t ast e it ! “ You m ust know,” said m y sist er, rising, “ it 's a pie; a savoury pork pie.” The com pany m urm ured t heir com plim ent s. Uncle Pum blechook, sensible of having deserved well of his fellowcreat ures, said—quit e vivaciously, all t hings considered— " Well, Mrs. Joe, we'll do our best endeavours; let us have a cut at t his sam e pie.” My sist er went out t o get it . I heard her st eps proceed t o t he pant ry. I saw Mr. Pum blechook balance his knife. I saw re- awakening appet it e in t he Rom an nost rils of Mr. Wopsle. I heard Mr. Hubble rem ark t hat “ a bit of savoury pork pie would lay at op of anyt hing you could m ent ion, and do no harm ,” and I heard Joe say, “ You shall have som e, Pip.” I have never been absolut ely cert ain whet her I ut t ered a shrill yell of t error, m erely in spirit , or in t he bodily hearing of t he com pany. I felt t hat I could bear no m ore, and t hat I m ust run away. I released t he leg of t he t able, and ran for m y life. But , I ran no furt her t han t he house door, for t here I ran head forem ost int o a part y of soldiers wit h t heir m usket s: one of whom held out a pair of handcuffs t o m e, saying, “ Here you are, look sharp, com e on! ” 40
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 5 The apparit ion of a file of soldiers ringing down t he but t ends of t heir loaded m usket s on our door- st ep, caused t he dinner- part y t o rise from t able in confusion, and caused Mrs. Joe re- ent ering t he kit chen em pt y- handed, t o st op short and st are, in her wondering lam ent of “ Gracious goodness gracious m e, what 's gone—wit h t he—pie! ” The sergeant and I were in t he kit chen when Mrs. Joe st ood st aring; at which crisis I part ially recovered t he use of m y senses. I t was t he sergeant who had spoken t o m e, and he was now looking round at t he com pany, wit h his handcuffs invit ingly ext ended t owards t hem in his right hand, and his left on m y shoulder. “ Excuse m e, ladies and gent lem an,” said t he sergeant , “ but as I have m ent ioned at t he door t o t his sm art young shaver” ( which he hadn't ) , “ I am on a chase in t he nam e of t he king, and I want t he blacksm it h.” “ And pray what m ight you want wit h him ?” ret ort ed m y sist er, quick t o resent his being want ed at all. “ Missis,” ret urned t he gallant sergeant , “ speaking for m yself, I should reply, t he honour and pleasure of his fine wife's acquaint ance; speaking for t he king, I answer, a lit t le j ob done.” This was received as rat her neat in t he sergeant ; insom uch t hat Mr Pum blechook cried audibly, “ Good again! ” “ You see, blacksm it h,” said t he sergeant , who had by t his t im e picked out Joe wit h his eye, “ we have had an accident 41
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit h t hese, and I find t he lock of one of ‘em goes wrong, and t he coupling don't act pret t y. As t hey are want ed for im m ediat e service, will you t hrow your eye over t hem ?” Joe t hrew his eye over t hem , and pronounced t hat t he j ob would necessit at e t he light ing of his forge fire, and would t ake nearer t wo hours t han one, “ Will it ? Then will you set about it at once, blacksm it h?” said t he off- hand sergeant , “ as it 's on his Maj est y's service. And if m y m en can beat a hand anywhere, t hey'll m ake t hem selves useful.” Wit h t hat , he called t o his m en, who cam e t rooping int o t he kit chen one aft er anot her, and piled t heir arm s in a corner. And t hen t hey st ood about , as soldiers do; now, wit h t heir hands loosely clasped before t hem ; now, rest ing a knee or a shoulder; now, easing a belt or a pouch; now, opening t he door t o spit st iffly over t heir high st ocks, out int o t he yard. All t hese t hings I saw wit hout t hen knowing t hat I saw t hem , for I was in an agony of apprehension. But , beginning t o perceive t hat t he handcuffs were not for m e, and t hat t he m ilit ary had so far got t he bet t er of t he pie as t o put it in t he background, I collect ed a lit t le m ore of m y scat t ered wit s. “ Would you give m e t he Tim e?” said t he sergeant , addressing him self t o Mr. Pum blechook, as t o a m an whose appreciat ive powers j ust ified t he inference t hat he was equal t o t he t im e. “ I t 's j ust gone half- past t wo.” “ That 's not so bad,” said t he sergeant , reflect ing; “ even if I was forced t o halt here nigh t wo hours, t hat 'll do. How far m ight you call yourselves from t he m arshes, hereabout s? Not above a m ile, I reckon?” 42
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Just a m ile,” said Mrs. Joe. “ That 'll do. We begin t o close in upon ‘em about dusk. A lit t le before dusk, m y orders are. That 'll do.” “ Convict s, sergeant ?” asked Mr. Wopsle, in a m at t er- ofcourse way. “ Ay! ” ret urned t he sergeant , “ t wo. They're pret t y well known t o be out on t he m arshes st ill, and t hey won't t ry t o get clear of ‘em before dusk. Anybody here seen anyt hing of any such gam e?” Everybody, m yself except ed, said no, wit h confidence. Nobody t hought of m e. “ Well! ” said t he sergeant , “ t hey'll find t hem selves t rapped in a circle, I expect , sooner t han t hey count on. Now, blacksm it h! I f you're ready, his Maj est y t he King is.” Joe had got his coat and waist coat and cravat off, and his leat her apron on, and passed int o t he forge. One of t he soldiers opened it s wooden windows, anot her light ed t he fire, anot her t urned t o at t he bellows, t he rest st ood round t he blaze, which was soon roaring. Then Joe began t o ham m er and clink, ham m er and clink, and we all looked on. The int erest of t he im pending pursuit not only absorbed t he general at t ent ion, but even m ade m y sist er liberal. She drew a pit cher of beer from t he cask, for t he soldiers, and invit ed t he sergeant t o t ake a glass of brandy. But Mr. Pum blechook said, sharply, “ Give him wine, Mum . I 'll engage t here's no Tar in t hat : ” so, t he sergeant t hanked him and said t hat as he preferred his drink wit hout t ar, he would t ake wine, if it was equally convenient . When it was given him , he drank 43
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
his Maj est y's healt h and Com plim ent s of t he Season, and t ook it all at a m out hful and sm acked his lips. “ Good st uff, eh, sergeant ?” said Mr. Pum blechook. “ I 'll t ell you som et hing,” ret urned t he sergeant ; “ I suspect t hat st uff's of your providing.” Mr. Pum blechook, wit h a fat sort of laugh, said, “ Ay, ay? Why?” “ Because,” ret urned t he sergeant , clapping him on t he shoulder, “ you're a m an t hat knows what 's what .” “ D'ye t hink so?” said Mr. Pum blechook, wit h his form er laugh. “ Have anot her glass! ” “ Wit h you. Hob and nob,” ret urned t he sergeant . “ The t op of m ine t o t he foot of yours—t he foot of yours t o t he t op of m ine—Ring once, ring t wice—t he best t une on t he Musical Glasses! Your healt h. May you live a t housand years, and never be a worse j udge of t he right sort t han you are at t he present m om ent of your life! ” The sergeant t ossed off his glass again and seem ed quit e ready for anot her glass. I not iced t hat Mr. Pum blechook in his hospit alit y appeared t o forget t hat he had m ade a present of t he wine, but t ook t he bot t le from Mrs. Joe and had all t he credit of handing it about in a gush of j ovialit y. Even I got som e. And he was so very free of t he wine t hat he even called for t he ot her bot t le, and handed t hat about wit h t he sam e liberalit y, when t he first was gone. As I wat ched t hem while t hey all st ood clust ering about t he forge, enj oying t hem selves so m uch, I t hought what t errible good sauce for a dinner m y fugit ive friend on t he m arshes was. They had not enj oyed t hem selves a quart er so 44
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m uch, before t he ent ert ainm ent was bright ened wit h t he excit em ent he furnished. And now, when t hey were all in lively ant icipat ion of “ t he t wo villains” being t aken, and when t he bellows seem ed t o roar for t he fugit ives, t he fire t o flare for t hem , t he sm oke t o hurry away in pursuit of t hem , Joe t o ham m er and clink for t hem , and all t he m urky shadows on t he wall t o shake at t hem in m enace as t he blaze rose and sank and t he red- hot sparks dropped and died, t he pale aft ernoon out side, alm ost seem ed in m y pit ying young fancy t o have t urned pale on t heir account , poor wret ches. At last , Joe's j ob was done, and t he ringing and roaring st opped. As Joe got on his coat , he m ust ered courage t o propose t hat som e of us should go down wit h t he soldiers and see what cam e of t he hunt . Mr. Pum blechook and Mr. Hubble declined, on t he plea of a pipe and ladies’ societ y; but Mr. Wopsle said he would go, if Joe would. Joe said he was agreeable, and would t ake m e, if Mrs. Joe approved. We never should have got leave t o go, I am sure, but for Mrs. Joe's curiosit y t o know all about it and how it ended. As it was, she m erely st ipulat ed, “ I f you bring t he boy back wit h his head blown t o bit s by a m usket , don't look t o m e t o put it t oget her again.” The sergeant t ook a polit e leave of t he ladies, and part ed from Mr. Pum blechook as from a com rade; t hough I doubt if he were quit e as fully sensible of t hat gent lem an's m erit s under arid condit ions, as when som et hing m oist was going. His m en resum ed t heir m usket s and fell in. Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I , received st rict charge t o keep in t he rear, and t o speak no word aft er we reached t he m arshes. When we were all out 45
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in t he raw air and were st eadily m oving t owards our business, I t reasonably whispered t o Joe, “ I hope, Joe, we shan't find t hem .” and Joe whispered t o m e, “ I 'd give a shilling if t hey had cut and run, Pip.” We were j oined by no st ragglers from t he village, for t he weat her was cold and t hreat ening, t he way dreary, t he foot ing bad, darkness com ing on, and t he people had good fires in- doors and were keeping t he day. A few faces hurried t o glowing windows and looked aft er us, but none cam e out . We passed t he finger- post , and held st raight on t o t he churchyard. There, we were st opped a few m inut es by a signal from t he sergeant 's hand, while t wo or t hree of his m en dispersed t hem selves am ong t he graves, and also exam ined t he porch. They cam e in again wit hout finding anyt hing, and t hen we st ruck out on t he open m arshes, t hrough t he gat e at t he side of t he churchyard. A bit t er sleet cam e rat t ling against us here on t he east wind, and Joe t ook m e on his back. Now t hat we were out upon t he dism al wilderness where t hey lit t le t hought I had been wit hin eight or nine hours and had seen bot h m en hiding, I considered for t he first t im e, wit h great dread, if we should com e upon t hem , would m y part icular convict suppose t hat it was I who had brought t he soldiers t here? He had asked m e if I was a deceiving im p, and he had said I should be a fierce young hound if I j oined t he hunt against him . Would he believe t hat I was bot h im p and hound in t reacherous earnest , and had bet rayed him ? I t was of no use asking m yself t his quest ion now. There I was, on Joe's back, and t here was Joe beneat h m e, charging at t he dit ches like a hunt er, and st im ulat ing Mr. Wopsle not t o 46
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t um ble on his Rom an nose, and t o keep up wit h us. The soldiers were in front of us, ext ending int o a pret t y wide line wit h an int erval bet ween m an and m an. We were t aking t he course I had begun wit h, and from which I had diverged in t he m ist . Eit her t he m ist was not out again yet , or t he wind had dispelled it . Under t he low red glare of sunset , t he beacon, and t he gibbet , and t he m ound of t he Bat t ery, and t he opposit e shore of t he river, were plain, t hough all of a wat ery lead colour. Wit h m y heart t hum ping like a blacksm it h at Joe's broad shoulder, I looked all about for any sign of t he convict s. I could see none, I could hear none. Mr. Wopsle had great ly alarm ed m e m ore t han once, by his blowing and hard breat hing; but I knew t he sounds by t his t im e, and could dissociat e t hem from t he obj ect of pursuit . I got a dreadful st art , when I t hought I heard t he file st ill going; but it was only a sheep bell. The sheep st opped in t heir eat ing and looked t im idly at us; and t he cat t le, t heir heads t urned from t he wind and sleet , st ared angrily as if t hey held us responsible for bot h annoyances; but , except t hese t hings, and t he shudder of t he dying day in every blade of grass, t here was no break in t he bleak st illness of t he m arshes. The soldiers were m oving on in t he direct ion of t he old Bat t ery, and we were m oving on a lit t le way behind t hem , when, all of a sudden, we all st opped. For, t here had reached us on t he wings of t he wind and rain, a long shout . I t was repeat ed. I t was at a dist ance t owards t he east , but it was long and loud. Nay, t here seem ed t o be t wo or m ore shout s 47
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
raised t oget her—if one m ight j udge from a confusion in t he sound. To t his effect t he sergeant and t he nearest m en were speaking under t heir breat h, when Joe and I cam e up. Aft er anot her m om ent 's list ening, Joe ( who was a good j udge) agreed, and Mr. Wopsle ( who was a bad j udge) agreed. The sergeant , a decisive m an, ordered t hat t he sound should not be answered, but t hat t he course should be changed, and t hat his m en should m ake t owards it “ at t he double.” So we slant ed t o t he right ( where t he East was) , and Joe pounded away so wonderfully, t hat I had t o hold on t ight t o keep m y seat . I t was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in t he only t wo words he spoke all t he t im e, “ a Winder.” Down banks and up banks, and over gat es, and splashing int o dykes, and breaking am ong coarse rushes: no m an cared where he went . As we cam e nearer t o t he shout ing, it becam e m ore and m ore apparent t hat it was m ade by m ore t han one voice. Som et im es, it seem ed t o st op alt oget her, and t hen t he soldiers st opped. When it broke out again, t he soldiers m ade for it at a great er rat e t han ever, and we aft er t hem . Aft er a while, we had so run it down, t hat we could hear one voice calling “ Murder! ” and anot her voice, “ Convict s! Runaways! Guard! This way for t he runaway convict s! ” Then bot h voices would seem t o be st ifled in a st ruggle, and t hen would break out again. And when it had com e t o t his, t he soldiers ran like deer, and Joe t oo.
48
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The sergeant ran in first , when we had run t he noise quit e down, and t wo of his m en ran in close upon him . Their pieces were cocked and levelled when we all ran in. “ Here are bot h m en! ” pant ed t he sergeant , st ruggling at t he bot t om of a dit ch. “ Surrender, you t wo! and confound you for t wo wild beast s! Com e asunder! ” Wat er was splashing, and m ud was flying, and oat hs were being sworn, and blows were being st ruck, when som e m ore m en went down int o t he dit ch t o help t he sergeant , and dragged out , separat ely, m y convict and t he ot her one. Bot h were bleeding and pant ing and execrat ing and st ruggling; but of course I knew t hem bot h direct ly. “ Mind! ” said m y convict , wiping blood from his face wit h his ragged sleeves, and shaking t orn hair from his fingers: “ I t ook him ! I give him up t o you! Mind t hat ! ” “ I t 's not m uch t o be part icular about ,” said t he sergeant ; “ it 'll do you sm all good, m y m an, being in t he sam e plight yourself. Handcuffs t here! ” “ I don't expect it t o do m e any good. I don't want it t o do m e m ore good t han it does now,” said m y convict , wit h a greedy laugh. “ I t ook him . He knows it . That 's enough for m e.” The ot her convict was livid t o look at , and, in addit ion t o t he old bruised left side of his face, seem ed t o be bruised and t orn all over. He could not so m uch as get his breat h t o speak, unt il t hey were bot h separat ely handcuffed, but leaned upon a soldier t o keep him self from falling. “ Take not ice, guard—he t ried t o m urder m e,” were his first words. 49
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Tried t o m urder him ?” said m y convict , disdainfully. “ Try, and not do it ? I t ook him , and giv’ him up; t hat 's what I done. I not only prevent ed him get t ing off t he m arshes, but I dragged him here—dragged him t his far on his way back. He's a gent lem an, if you please, t his villain. Now, t he Hulks has got it s gent lem an again, t hrough m e. Murder him ? Wort h m y while, t oo, t o m urder him , when I could do worse and drag him back! ” The ot her one st ill gasped, “ He t ried—he t ried—t o—m urder m e. Bear—bear wit ness.” “ Lookee here! ” said m y convict t o t he sergeant . “ Singlehanded I got clear of t he prison- ship; I m ade a dash and I done it . I could ha’ got clear of t hese deat h- cold flat s likewise—look at m y leg: you won't find m uch iron on it —if I hadn't m ade t he discovery t hat he was here. Let him go free? Let him profit by t he m eans as I found out ? Let him m ake a t ool of m e afresh and again? Once m ore? No, no, no. I f I had died at t he bot t om t here; ” and he m ade an em phat ic swing at t he dit ch wit h his m anacled hands; “ I 'd have held t o him wit h t hat grip, t hat you should have been safe t o find him in m y hold.” The ot her fugit ive, who was evident ly in ext rem e horror of his com panion, repeat ed, “ He t ried t o m urder m e. I should have been a dead m an if you had not com e up.” “ He lies! ” said m y convict , wit h fierce energy. “ He's a liar born, and he'll die a liar. Look at his face; ain't it writ t en t here? Let him t urn t hose eyes of his on m e. I defy him t o do it .” 50
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The ot her, wit h an effort at a scornful sm ile—which could not , however, collect t he nervous working of his m out h int o any set expression—looked at t he soldiers, and looked about at t he m arshes and at t he sky, but cert ainly did not look at t he speaker. “ Do you see him ?” pursued m y convict . “ Do you see what a villain he is? Do you see t hose grovelling and wandering eyes? That 's how he looked when we were t ried t oget her. He never looked at m e.” The ot her, always working and working his dry lips and t urning his eyes rest lessly about him far and near, did at last t urn t hem for a m om ent on t he speaker, wit h t he words, “ You are not m uch t o look at ,” and wit h a half- t aunt ing glance at t he bound hands. At t hat point , m y convict becam e so frant ically exasperat ed, t hat he would have rushed upon him but for t he int erposit ion of t he soldiers. “ Didn't I t ell you,” said t he ot her convict t hen, “ t hat he would m urder m e, if he could?” And any one could see t hat he shook wit h fear, and t hat t here broke out upon his lips, curious whit e flakes, like t hin snow. “ Enough of t his parley,” said t he sergeant . “ Light t hose t orches.” As one of t he soldiers, who carried a basket in lieu of a gun, went down on his knee t o open it , m y convict looked round him for t he first t im e, and saw m e. I had alight ed from Joe's back on t he brink of t he dit ch when we cam e up, and had not m oved since. I looked at him eagerly when he looked at m e, and slight ly m oved m y hands and shook m y head. I had been wait ing for him t o see m e, t hat I m ight t ry t o assure 51
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him of m y innocence. I t was not at all expressed t o m e t hat he even com prehended m y int ent ion, for he gave m e a look t hat I did not underst and, and it all passed in a m om ent . But if he had looked at m e for an hour or for a day, I could not have rem em bered his face ever aft erwards, as having been m ore at t ent ive. The soldier wit h t he basket soon got a light , and light ed t hree or four t orches, and t ook one him self and dist ribut ed t he ot hers. I t had been alm ost dark before, but now it seem ed quit e dark, and soon aft erwards very dark. Before we depart ed from t hat spot , four soldiers st anding in a ring, fired t wice int o t he air. Present ly we saw ot her t orches kindled at som e dist ance behind us, and ot hers on t he m arshes on t he opposit e bank of t he river. “ All right ,” said t he sergeant . “ March.” We had not gone far when t hree cannon were fired ahead of us wit h a sound t hat seem ed t o burst som et hing inside m y ear. “ You are expect ed on board,” said t he sergeant t o m y convict ; “ t hey know you are com ing. Don't st raggle, m y m an. Close up here.” The t wo were kept apart , and each walked surrounded by a separat e guard. I had hold of Joe's hand now, and Joe carried one of t he t orches. Mr. Wopsle had been for going back, but Joe was resolved t o see it out , so we went on wit h t he part y. There was a reasonably good pat h now, m ost ly on t he edge of t he river, wit h a divergence here and t here where a dyke cam e, wit h a m iniat ure windm ill on it and a m uddy sluice- gat e. When I looked round, I could see t he ot her light s com ing in aft er us. The t orches we carried, dropped great 52
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
blot ches of fire upon t he t rack, and I could see t hose, t oo, lying sm oking and flaring. I could see not hing else but black darkness. Our light s warm ed t he air about us wit h t heir pit chy blaze, and t he t wo prisoners seem ed rat her t o like t hat , as t hey lim ped along in t he m idst of t he m usket s. We could not go fast , because of t heir lam eness; and t hey were so spent , t hat t wo or t hree t im es we had t o halt while t hey rest ed. Aft er an hour or so of t his t ravelling, we cam e t o a rough wooden hut and a landing- place. There was a guard in t he hut , and t hey challenged, and t he sergeant answered. Then, we went int o t he hut where t here was a sm ell of t obacco and whit ewash, and a bright fire, and a lam p, and a st and of m usket s, and a drum , and a low wooden bedst ead, like an overgrown m angle wit hout t he m achinery, capable of holding about a dozen soldiers all at once. Three or four soldiers who lay upon it in t heir great - coat s, were not m uch int erest ed in us, but j ust lift ed t heir heads and t ook a sleepy st are, and t hen lay down again. The sergeant m ade som e kind of report , and som e ent ry in a book, and t hen t he convict whom I call t he ot her convict was draft ed off wit h his guard, t o go on board first . My convict never looked at m e, except t hat once. While we st ood in t he hut , he st ood before t he fire looking t hought fully at it , or put t ing up his feet by t urns upon t he hob, and looking t hought fully at t hem as if he pit ied t hem for t heir recent advent ures. Suddenly, he t urned t o t he sergeant , and rem arked: “ I wish t o say som et hing respect ing t his escape. I t m ay prevent som e persons laying under suspicion alonger m e.” 53
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You can say what you like,” ret urned t he sergeant , st anding coolly looking at him wit h his arm s folded, “ but you have no call t o say it here. You'll have opport unit y enough t o say about it , and hear about it , before it 's done wit h, you know.” “ I know, but t his is anot her pint , a separat e m at t er. A m an can't st arve; at least I can't . I t ook som e wit t les, up at t he willage over yonder—where t he church st ands a'm ost out on t he m arshes.” “ You m ean st ole,” said t he sergeant . “ And I 'll t ell you where from . From t he blacksm it h's.” “ Halloa! ” said t he sergeant , st aring at Joe. “ Halloa, Pip! ” said Joe, st aring at m e. “ I t was som e broken wit t les—t hat 's what it was—and a dram of liquor, and a pie.” “ Have you happened t o m iss such an art icle as a pie, blacksm it h?” asked t he sergeant , confident ially. “ My wife did, at t he very m om ent when you cam e in. Don't you know, Pip?” “ So,” said m y convict , t urning his eyes on Joe in a m oody m anner, and wit hout t he least glance at m e; “ so you're t he blacksm it h, are you? Than I 'm sorry t o say, I 've eat your pie.” “ God knows you're welcom e t o it —so far as it was ever m ine,” ret urned Joe, wit h a saving rem em brance of Mrs. Joe. “ We don't know what you have done, but we wouldn't have you st arved t o deat h for it , poor m iserable fellow- creat ur.— Would us, Pip?” The som et hing t hat I had not iced before, clicked in t he m an's t hroat again, and he t urned his back. The boat had 54
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ret urned, and his guard were ready, so we followed him t o t he landing- place m ade of rough st akes and st ones, and saw him put int o t he boat , which was rowed by a crew of convict s like him self. No one seem ed surprised t o see him , or int erest ed in seeing him , or glad t o see him , or sorry t o see him , or spoke a word, except t hat som ebody in t he boat growled as if t o dogs, “ Give way, you! ” which was t he signal for t he dip of t he oars. By t he light of t he t orches, we saw t he black Hulk lying out a lit t le way from t he m ud of t he shore, like a wicked Noah's ark. Cribbed and barred and m oored by m assive rust y chains, t he prison- ship seem ed in m y young eyes t o be ironed like t he prisoners. We saw t he boat go alongside, and we saw him t aken up t he side and disappear. Then, t he ends of t he t orches were flung hissing int o t he wat er, and went out , as if it were all over wit h him .
55
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 6 My st at e of m ind regarding t he pilfering from which I had been so unexpect edly exonerat ed, did not im pel m e t o frank disclosure; but I hope it had som e dregs of good at t he bot t om of it . I do not recall t hat I felt any t enderness of conscience in reference t o Mrs. Joe, when t he fear of being found out was lift ed off m e. But I loved Joe—perhaps for no bet t er reason in t hose early days t han because t he dear fellow let m e love him —and, as t o him , m y inner self was not so easily com posed. I t was m uch upon m y m ind ( part icularly when I first saw him looking about for his file) t hat I ought t o t ell Joe t he whole t rut h. Yet I did not , and for t he reason t hat I m ist rust ed t hat if I did, he would t hink m e worse t han I was. The fear of losing Joe's confidence, and of t hencefort h sit t ing in t he chim ney- corner at night st aring drearily at m y for ever lost com panion and friend, t ied up m y t ongue. I m orbidly represent ed t o m yself t hat if Joe knew it , I never aft erwards could see him at t he fireside feeling his fair whisker, wit hout t hinking t hat he was m edit at ing on it . That , if Joe knew it , I never aft erwards could see him glance, however casually, at yest erday's m eat or pudding when it cam e on t o- day's t able, wit hout t hinking t hat he was debat ing whet her I had been in t he pant ry. That , if Joe knew it , and at any subsequent period of our j oint dom est ic life rem arked t hat his beer was flat or t hick, t he convict ion t hat he suspect ed Tar in it , would bring a rush of blood t o m y face. I n a word, I was t oo cowardly t o do 56
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
what I knew t o be right , as I had been t oo cowardly t o avoid doing what I knew t o be wrong. I had had no int ercourse wit h t he world at t hat t im e, and I im it at ed none of it s m any inhabit ant s who act in t his m anner. Quit e an unt aught genius, I m ade t he discovery of t he line of act ion for m yself. As I was sleepy before we were far away from t he prisonship, Joe t ook m e on his back again and carried m e hom e. He m ust have had a t iresom e j ourney of it , for Mr. Wopsle, being knocked up, was in such a very bad t em per t hat if t he Church had been t hrown open, he would probably have excom m unicat ed t he whole expedit ion, beginning wit h Joe and m yself. I n his lay capacit y, he persist ed in sit t ing down in t he dam p t o such an insane ext ent , t hat when his coat was t aken off t o be dried at t he kit chen fire, t he circum st ant ial evidence on his t rousers would have hanged him if it had been a capit al offence. By t hat t im e, I was st aggering on t he kit chen floor like a lit t le drunkard, t hrough having been newly set upon m y feet , and t hrough having been fast asleep, and t hrough waking in t he heat and light s and noise of t ongues. As I cam e t o m yself ( wit h t he aid of a heavy t hum p bet ween t he shoulders, and t he rest orat ive exclam at ion “ Yah! Was t here ever such a boy as t his! ” from m y sist er) , I found Joe t elling t hem about t he convict 's confession, and all t he visit ors suggest ing different ways by which he had got int o t he pant ry. Mr. Pum blechook m ade out , aft er carefully surveying t he prem ises, t hat he had first got upon t he roof of t he forge, and had t hen got upon t he roof of t he house, and had t hen let him self down t he kit chen chim ney by a rope m ade of his bedding cut int o 57
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
st rips; and as Mr. Pum blechook was very posit ive and drove his own chaise- cart —over everybody—it was agreed t hat it m ust be so. Mr. Wopsle, indeed, wildly cried out “ No! ” wit h t he feeble m alice of a t ired m an; but , as he had no t heory, and no coat on, he was unanim ously set at nought —not t o m ent ion his sm oking hard behind, as he st ood wit h his back t o t he kit chen fire t o draw t he dam p out : which was not calculat ed t o inspire confidence. This was all I heard t hat night before m y sist er clut ched m e, as a slum berous offence t o t he com pany's eyesight , and assist ed m e up t o bed wit h such a st rong hand t hat I seem ed t o have fift y boot s on, and t o be dangling t hem all against t he edges of t he st airs. My st at e of m ind, as I have described it , began before I was up in t he m orning, and last ed long aft er t he subj ect had died out , and had ceased t o be m ent ioned saving on except ional occasions.
58
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 7 At t he t im e when I st ood in t he churchyard, reading t he fam ily t om bst ones, I had j ust enough learning t o be able t o spell t hem out . My const ruct ion even of t heir sim ple m eaning was not very correct , for I read “ wife of t he Above” as a com plim ent ary reference t o m y fat her's exalt at ion t o a bet t er world; and if any one of m y deceased relat ions had been referred t o as “ Below,” I have no doubt I should have form ed t he worst opinions of t hat m em ber of t he fam ily. Neit her, were m y not ions of t he t heological posit ions t o which m y Cat echism bound m e, at all accurat e; for, I have a lively rem em brance t hat I supposed m y declarat ion t hat I was t o “ walk in t he sam e all t he days of m y life,” laid m e under an obligat ion always t o go t hrough t he village from our house in one part icular direct ion, and never t o vary it by t urning down by t he wheelwright 's or up by t he m ill. When I was old enough, I was t o be apprent iced t o Joe, and unt il I could assum e t hat dignit y I was not t o be what Mrs. Joe called “ Pom peyed,” or ( as I render it ) pam pered. Therefore, I was not only odd- boy about t he forge, but if any neighbour happened t o want an ext ra boy t o fright en birds, or pick up st ones, or do any such j ob, I was favoured wit h t he em ploym ent . I n order, however, t hat our superior posit ion m ight not be com prom ised t hereby, a m oney- box was kept on t he kit chen m ant el- shelf, in t o which it was publicly m ade known t hat all m y earnings were dropped. I have an im pression t hat t hey were t o be cont ribut ed event ually 59
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t owards t he liquidat ion of t he Nat ional Debt , but I know I had no hope of any personal part icipat ion in t he t reasure. Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt kept an evening school in t he village; t hat is t o say, she was a ridiculous old wom an of lim it ed m eans and unlim it ed infirm it y, who used t o go t o sleep from six t o seven every evening, in t he societ y of yout h who paid t wopence per week each, for t he im proving opport unit y of seeing her do it . She rent ed a sm all cot t age, and Mr. Wopsle had t he room up- st airs, where we st udent s used t o overhear him reading aloud in a m ost dignified and t errific m anner, and occasionally bum ping on t he ceiling. There was a fict ion t hat Mr. Wopsle “ exam ined” t he scholars, once a quart er. What he did on t hose occasions was t o t urn up his cuffs, st ick up his hair, and give us Mark Ant ony's orat ion over t he body of Caesar. This was always followed by Collins's Ode on t he Passions, wherein I part icularly venerat ed Mr. Wopsle as Revenge, t hrowing his blood- st ained sword in t hunder down, and t aking t he War- denouncing t rum pet wit h a wit hering look. I t was not wit h m e t hen, as it was in lat er life, when I fell int o t he societ y of t he Passions, and com pared t hem wit h Collins and Wopsle, rat her t o t he disadvant age of bot h gent lem en. Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt , besides keeping t his Educat ional I nst it ut ion, kept —in t he sam e room —a lit t le general shop. She had no idea what st ock she had, or what t he price of anyt hing in it was; but t here was a lit t le greasy m em orandum - book kept in a drawer, which served as a Cat alogue of Prices, and by t his oracle Biddy arranged all t he shop t ransact ion. Biddy was Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt 's 60
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
granddaught er; I confess m yself quiet unequal t o t he working out of t he problem , what relat ion she was t o Mr. Wopsle. She was an orphan like m yself; like m e, t oo, had been brought up by hand. She was m ost not iceable, I t hought , in respect of her ext rem it ies; for, her hair always want ed brushing, her hands always want ed washing, and her shoes always want ed m ending and pulling up at heel. This descript ion m ust be received wit h a week- day lim it at ion. On Sundays, she went t o church elaborat ed. Much of m y unassist ed self, and m ore by t he help of Biddy t han of Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt , I st ruggled t hrough t he alphabet as if it had been a bram ble- bush; get t ing considerably worried and scrat ched by every let t er. Aft er t hat , I fell am ong t hose t hieves, t he nine figures, who seem ed every evening t o do som et hing new t o disguise t hem selves and baffle recognit ion. But , at last I began, in a purblind groping way, t o read, writ e, and cipher, on t he very sm allest scale. One night , I was sit t ing in t he chim ney- corner wit h m y slat e, expending great effort s on t he product ion of a let t er t o Joe. I t hink it m ust have been a fully year aft er our hunt upon t he m arshes, for it was a long t im e aft er, and it was wint er and a hard frost . Wit h an alphabet on t he heart h at m y feet for reference, I cont rived in an hour or t wo t o print and sm ear t his epist le: “ MI DEER JO i OPE U R KR WI TE WELL i OPE i SHAL SON B HABELL 4 2 TEEDGE U JO AN THEN WE SHORL B SO GLODD AN WEN i M PRENGTD 2 U JO WOT LARX AN BLEVE ME I NF XN PI P.” 61
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
There was no indispensable necessit y for m y com m unicat ing wit h Joe by let t er, inasm uch as he sat beside m e and we were alone. But , I delivered t his writ t en com m unicat ion ( slat e and all) wit h m y own hand, and Joe received it as a m iracle of erudit ion. “ I say, Pip, old chap! ” cried Joe, opening his blue eyes wide, “ what a scholar you are! An't you?” “ I should like t o be,” said I , glancing at t he slat e as he held it : wit h a m isgiving t hat t he writ ing was rat her hilly. “ Why, here's a J,” said Joe, “ and a O equal t o anyt hink! Here's a J and a O, Pip, and a J- O, Joe.” I had never heard Joe read aloud t o any great er ext ent t han t his m onosyllable, and I had observed at church last Sunday when I accident ally held our Prayer- Book upside down, t hat it seem ed t o suit his convenience quit e as well as if it had been all right . Wishing t o em brace t he present occasion of finding out whet her in t eaching Joe, I should have t o begin quit e at t he beginning, I said, “ Ah! But read t he rest , Jo.” “ The rest , eh, Pip?” said Joe, looking at it wit h a slowly searching eye, “ One, t wo, t hree. Why, here's t hree Js, and t hree Os, and t hree J- O, Joes in it , Pip! ” I leaned over Joe, and, wit h t he aid of m y forefinger, read him t he whole let t er. “ Ast onishing! ” said Joe, when I had finished. “ You ARE a scholar.” “ How do you spell Gargery, Joe?” I asked him , wit h a m odest pat ronage. “ I don't spell it at all,” said Joe. 62
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ But supposing you did?” “ I t can't be supposed,” said Joe. “ Tho’ I 'm oncom m on fond of reading, t oo.” “ Are you, Joe?” “ On- com m on. Give m e,” said Joe, “ a good book, or a good newspaper, and sit m e down afore a good fire, and I ask no bet t er. Lord! ” he cont inued, aft er rubbing his knees a lit t le, “ when you do com e t o a J and a O, and says you, “ Here, at last , is a J- O, Joe,” how int erest ing reading is! ” I derived from t his last , t hat Joe's educat ion, like St eam , was yet in it s infancy, Pursuing t he subj ect , I inquired: “ Didn't you ever go t o school, Joe, when you were as lit t le as m e?” “ No, Pip.” “ Why didn't you ever go t o school, Joe, when you were as lit t le as m e?” “ Well, Pip,” said Joe, t aking up t he poker, and set t ling him self t o his usual occupat ion when he was t hought ful, of slowly raking t he fire bet ween t he lower bars: “ I 'll t ell you. My fat her, Pip, he were given t o drink, and when he were overt ook wit h drink, he ham m ered away at m y m ot her, m ost onm erciful. I t were a'm ost t he only ham m ering he did, indeed, ‘xcept ing at m yself. And he ham m ered at m e wit h a wigour only t o be equalled by t he wigour wit h which he didn't ham m er at his anwil.—You're a- list ening and underst anding, Pip?” “ Yes, Joe.” “ ‘Consequence, m y m ot her and m e we ran away from m y fat her, several t im es; and t hen m y m ot her she'd go out t o 63
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
work, and she'd say, “ Joe,” she'd say, “ now, please God, you shall have som e schooling, child,” and she'd put m e t o school. But m y fat her were t hat good in his hart t hat he couldn't abear t o be wit hout us. So, he'd com e wit h a m ost t rem enj ous crowd and m ake such a row at t he doors of t he houses where we was, t hat t hey used t o be obligat ed t o have no m ore t o do wit h us and t o give us up t o him . And t hen he t ook us hom e and ham m ered us. Which, you see, Pip,” said Joe, pausing in his m edit at ive raking of t he fire, and looking at m e, “ were a drawback on m y learning.” “ Cert ainly, poor Joe! ” “ Though m ind you, Pip,” said Joe, wit h a j udicial t ouch or t wo of t he poker on t he t op bar, “ rendering unt o all t heir doo, and m aint aining equal j ust ice bet wixt m an and m an, m y fat her were t hat good in his hart , don't you see?” I didn't see; but I didn't say so. “ Well! ” Joe pursued, “ som ebody m ust keep t he pot a biling, Pip, or t he pot won't bile, don't you know?” I saw t hat , and said so. “ ‘Consequence, m y fat her didn't m ake obj ect ions t o m y going t o work; so I went t o work t o work at m y present calling, which were his t oo, if he would have followed it , and I worked t olerable hard, I assure you, Pip. I n t im e I were able t o keep him , and I kept him t ill he went off in a purple lept ic fit . And it were m y int ent ions t o have had put upon his t om bst one t hat What sum e'er t he failings on his part , Rem em ber reader he were t hat good in his hart .”
64
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Joe recit ed t his couplet wit h such m anifest pride and careful perspicuit y, t hat I asked him if he had m ade it him self. “ I m ade it ,” said Joe, “ m y own self. I m ade it in a m om ent . I t was like st riking out a horseshoe com plet e, in a single blow. I never was so m uch surprised in all m y life—couldn't credit m y own ed—t o t ell you t he t rut h, hardly believed it were m y own ed. As I was saying, Pip, it were m y int ent ions t o have had it cut over him ; but poet ry cost s m oney, cut it how you will, sm all or large, and it were not done. Not t o m ent ion bearers, all t he m oney t hat could be spared were want ed for m y m ot her. She were in poor elt h, and quit e broke. She weren't long of following, poor soul, and her share of peace com e round at last .” Joe's blue eyes t urned a lit t le wat ery; he rubbed, first one of t hem , and t hen t he ot her, in a m ost uncongenial and uncom fort able m anner, wit h t he round knob on t he t op of t he poker. “ I t were but lonesom e t hen,” said Joe, “ living here alone, and I got acquaint ed wit h your sist er. Now, Pip; ” Joe looked firm ly at m e, as if he knew I was not going t o agree wit h him ; “ your sist er is a fine figure of a wom an.” I could not help looking at t he fire, in an obvious st at e of doubt . “ What ever fam ily opinions, or what ever t he world's opinions, on t hat subj ect m ay be, Pip, your sist er is,” Joe t apped t he t op bar wit h t he poker aft er every word following, “ a—fine—figure—of—a—wom an! ” 65
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I could t hink of not hing bet t er t o say t han “ I am glad you t hink so, Joe.” “ So am I ,” ret urned Joe, cat ching m e up. “ I am glad I t hink so, Pip. A lit t le redness or a lit t le m at t er of Bone, here or t here, what does it signify t o Me?” I sagaciously observed, if it didn't signify t o him , t o whom did it signify? “ Cert ainly! ” assent ed Joe. “ That 's it . You're right , old chap! When I got acquaint ed wit h your sist er, it were t he t alk how she was bringing you up by hand. Very kind of her t oo, all t he folks said, and I said, along wit h all t he folks. As t o you,” Joe pursued wit h a count enance expressive of seeing som et hing very nast y indeed: “ if you could have been aware how sm all and flabby and m ean you was, dear m e, you'd have form ed t he m ost cont em pt ible opinion of yourself! ” Not exact ly relishing t his, I said, “ Never m ind m e, Joe.” “ But I did m ind you, Pip,” he ret urned wit h t ender sim plicit y. “ When I offered t o your sist er t o keep com pany, and t o be asked in church at such t im es as she was willing and ready t o com e t o t he forge, I said t o her, ‘And bring t he poor lit t le child. God bless t he poor lit t le child,’ I said t o your sist er, ‘t here's room for him at t he forge! '” I broke out crying and begging pardon, and hugged Joe round t he neck: who dropped t he poker t o hug m e, and t o say, “ Ever t he best of friends; an't us, Pip? Don't cry, old chap! ” When t his lit t le int errupt ion was over, Joe resum ed: “ Well, you see, Pip, and here we are! That 's about where it light s; here we are! Now, when you t ake m e in hand in m y 66
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
learning, Pip ( and I t ell you beforehand I am awful dull, m ost awful dull) , Mrs. Joe m ust n't see t oo m uch of what we're up t o. I t m ust be done, as I m ay say, on t he sly. And why on t he sly? I 'll t ell you why, Pip.” He had t aken up t he poker again; wit hout which, I doubt if he could have proceeded in his dem onst rat ion. “ Your sist er is given t o governm ent .” “ Given t o governm ent , Joe?” I was st art led, for I had som e shadowy idea ( and I am afraid I m ust add, hope) t hat Joe had divorced her in a favour of t he Lords of t he Adm iralt y, or Treasury. “ Given t o governm ent ,” said Joe. “ Which I m eant ersay t he governm ent of you and m yself.” “ Oh! ” “ And she an't over part ial t o having scholars on t he prem ises,” Joe cont inued, “ and in part ickler would not be over part ial t o m y being a scholar, for fear as I m ight rise. Like a sort or rebel, don't you see?” I was going t o ret ort wit h an inquiry, and had got as far as “ Why—” when Joe st opped m e. “ St ay a bit . I know what you're a- going t o say, Pip; st ay a bit ! I don't deny t hat your sist er com es t he Mo- gul over us, now and again. I don't deny t hat she do t hrow us back- falls, and t hat she do drop down upon us heavy. At such t im es as when your sist er is on t he Ram - page, Pip,” Joe sank his voice t o a whisper and glanced at t he door, “ candour com pels fur t o adm it t hat she is a Bust er.” Joe pronounced t his word, as if it began wit h at least t welve capit al Bs. 67
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Why don't I rise? That were your observat ion when I broke it off, Pip?” “ Yes, Joe.” “ Well,” said Joe, passing t he poker int o his left hand, t hat he m ight feel his whisker; and I had no hope of him whenever he t ook t o t hat placid occupat ion; “ your sist er's a m ast erm ind. A m ast er- m ind.” “ What 's t hat ?” I asked, in som e hope of bringing him t o a st and. But , Joe was readier wit h his definit ion t han I had expect ed, and com plet ely st opped m e by arguing circularly, and answering wit h a fixed look, “ Her.” “ And I an't a m ast er- m ind,” Joe resum ed, when he had unfixed his look, and got back t o his whisker. “ And last of all, Pip—and t his I want t o say very serious t o you, old chap—I see so m uch in m y poor m ot her, of a wom an drudging and slaving and breaking her honest hart and never get t ing no peace in her m ort al days, t hat I 'm dead afeerd of going wrong in t he way of not doing what 's right by a wom an, and I 'd fur rat her of t he t wo go wrong t he t 'ot her way, and be a lit t le illconwenienced m yself. I wish it was only m e t hat got put out , Pip; I wish t here warn't no Tickler for you, old chap; I wish I could t ake it all on m yself; but t his is t he up- and- down- andst raight on it , Pip, and I hope you'll overlook short com ings.” Young as I was, I believe t hat I dat ed a new adm irat ion of Joe from t hat night . We were equals aft erwards, as we had been before; but , aft erwards at quiet t im es when I sat looking at Joe and t hinking about him , I had a new sensat ion of feeling conscious t hat I was looking up t o Joe in m y heart . 68
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ However,” said Joe, rising t o replenish t he fire; “ here's t he Dut ch- clock a working him self up t o being equal t o st rike Eight of ‘em , and she's not com e hom e yet ! I hope Uncle Pum blechook's m are m ayn't have set a fore- foot on a piece o’ ice, and gone down.” Mrs. Joe m ade occasional t rips wit h Uncle Pum blechook on m arket - days, t o assist him in buying such household st uffs and goods as required a wom an's j udgm ent ; Uncle Pum blechook being a bachelor and reposing no confidences in his dom est ic servant . This was m arket - day, and Mrs. Joe was out on one of t hese expedit ions. Joe m ade t he fire and swept t he heart h, and t hen we went t o t he door t o list en for t he chaise- cart . I t was a dry cold night , and t he wind blew keenly, and t he frost was whit e and hard. A m an would die t o- night of lying out on t he m arshes, I t hought . And t hen I looked at t he st ars, and considered how awful if would be for a m an t o t urn his face up t o t hem as he froze t o deat h, and see no help or pit y in all t he glit t ering m ult it ude. “ Here com es t he m are,” said Joe, “ ringing like a peal of bells! ” The sound of her iron shoes upon t he hard road was quit e m usical, as she cam e along at a m uch brisker t rot t han usual. We got a chair out , ready for Mrs. Joe's alight ing, and st irred up t he fire t hat t hey m ight see a bright window, and t ook a final survey of t he kit chen t hat not hing m ight be out of it s place. When we had com plet ed t hese preparat ions, t hey drove up, wrapped t o t he eyes. Mrs. Joe was soon landed, and Uncle Pum blechook was soon down t oo, covering t he 69
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m are wit h a clot h, and we were soon all in t he kit chen, carrying so m uch cold air in wit h us t hat it seem ed t o drive all t he heat out of t he fire. “ Now,” said Mrs. Joe, unwrapping herself wit h hast e and excit em ent , and t hrowing her bonnet back on her shoulders where it hung by t he st rings: “ if t his boy an't grat eful t his night , he never will be! ” I looked as grat eful as any boy possibly could, who was wholly uninform ed why he ought t o assum e t hat expression. “ I t 's only t o be hoped,” said m y sist er, “ t hat he won't be Pom p- eyed. But I have m y fears.” “ She an't in t hat line, Mum ,” said Mr. Pum blechook. “ She knows bet t er.” She? I looked at Joe, m aking t he m ot ion wit h m y lips and eyebrows, “ She?” Joe looked at m e, m aking t he m ot ion wit h his lips and eyebrows, “ She?” My sist er cat ching him in t he act , he drew t he back of his hand across his nose wit h his usual conciliat ory air on such occasions, and looked at her. “ Well?” said m y sist er, in her snappish way. “ What are you st aring at ? I s t he house a- fire?” “ —Which som e individual,” Joe polit ely hint ed, “ m ent ioned—she.” “ And she is a she, I suppose?” said m y sist er. “ Unless you call Miss Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as t hat .” “ Miss Havisham , up t own?” said Joe. “ I s t here any Miss Havisham down t own?” ret urned m y sist er. 70
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ She want s t his boy t o go and play t here. And of course he's going. And he had bet t er play t here,” said m y sist er, shaking her head at m e as an encouragem ent t o be ext rem ely light and sport ive, “ or I 'll work him .” I had heard of Miss Havisham up t own—everybody for m iles round, had heard of Miss Havisham up t own—as an im m ensely rich and grim lady who lived in a large and dism al house barricaded against robbers, and who led a life of seclusion. “ Well t o be sure! ” said Joe, ast ounded. “ I wonder how she com e t o know Pip! ” “ Noodle! ” cried m y sist er. “ Who said she knew him ?” “ —Which som e individual,” Joe again polit ely hint ed, “ m ent ioned t hat she want ed him t o go and play t here.” “ And couldn't she ask Uncle Pum blechook if he knew of a boy t o go and play t here? I sn't it j ust barely possible t hat Uncle Pum blechook m ay be a t enant of hers, and t hat he m ay som et im es—we won't say quart erly or half- yearly, for t hat would be requiring t oo m uch of you—but som et im es—go t here t o pay his rent ? And couldn't she t hen ask Uncle Pum blechook if he knew of a boy t o go and play t here? And couldn't Uncle Pum blechook, being always considerat e and t hought ful for us—t hough you m ay not t hink it , Joseph,” in a t one of t he deepest reproach, as if he were t he m ost callous of nephews, “ t hen m ent ion t his boy, st anding Prancing here" —which I solem nly declare I was not doing—" t hat I have for ever been a willing slave t o?” “ Good again! ” cried Uncle Pum blechook. “ Well put ! Pret t ily point ed! Good indeed! Now Joseph, you know t he case.” 71
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No, Joseph,” said m y sist er, st ill in a reproachful m anner, while Joe apologet ically drew t he back of his hand across and across his nose, “ you do not yet —t hough you m ay not t hink it —know t he case. You m ay consider t hat you do, but you do not , Joseph. For you do not know t hat Uncle Pum blechook, being sensible t hat for anyt hing we can t ell, t his boy's fort une m ay be m ade by his going t o Miss Havisham 's, has offered t o t ake him int o t own t o- night in his own chaise- cart , and t o keep him t o- night , and t o t ake him wit h his own hands t o Miss Havisham 's t o- m orrow m orning. And Lor- a- m ussy m e! ” cried m y sist er, cast ing off her bonnet in sudden desperat ion, “ here I st and t alking t o m ere Mooncalfs, wit h Uncle Pum blechook wait ing, and t he m are cat ching cold at t he door, and t he boy grim ed wit h crock and dirt from t he hair of his head t o t he sole of his foot ! ” Wit h t hat , she pounced upon m e, like an eagle on a lam b, and m y face was squeezed int o wooden bowls in sinks, and m y head was put under t aps of wat er- but t s, and I was soaped, and kneaded, and t owelled, and t hum ped, and harrowed, and rasped, unt il I really was quit e beside m yself. ( I m ay here rem ark t hat I suppose m yself t o be bet t er acquaint ed t han any living aut horit y, wit h t he ridgy effect of a wedding- ring, passing unsym pat het ically over t he hum an count enance.) When m y ablut ions were com plet ed, I was put int o clean linen of t he st iffest charact er, like a young penit ent int o sackclot h, and was t russed up in m y t ight est and fearfullest suit . I was t hen delivered over t o Mr. Pum blechook, who form ally received m e as if he were t he Sheriff, and who let off 72
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
upon m e t he speech t hat I knew he had been dying t o m ake all along: “ Boy, be for ever grat eful t o all friends, but especially unt o t hem which brought you up by hand! ” “ Good- bye, Joe! ” “ God bless you, Pip, old chap! ” I had never part ed from him before, and what wit h m y feelings and what wit h soap- suds, I could at first see no st ars from t he chaise- cart . But t hey t winkled out one by one, wit hout t hrowing any light on t he quest ions why on eart h I was going t o play at Miss Havisham 's, and what on eart h I was expect ed t o play at .
73
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 8 Mr. Pum blechook's prem ises in t he High- st reet of t he m arket t own, were of a peppercorny and farinaceous charact er, as t he prem ises of a corn- chandler and seedsm an should be. I t appeared t o m e t hat he m ust be a very happy m an indeed, t o have so m any lit t le drawers in his shop; and I wondered when I peeped int o one or t wo on t he lower t iers, and saw t he t ied- up brown paper packet s inside, whet her t he flower- seeds and bulbs ever want ed of a fine day t o break out of t hose j ails, and bloom . I t was in t he early m orning aft er m y arrival t hat I ent ert ained t his speculat ion. On t he previous night , I had been sent st raight t o bed in an at t ic wit h a sloping roof, which was so low in t he corner where t he bedst ead was, t hat I calculat ed t he t iles as being wit hin a foot of m y eyebrows. I n t he sam e early m orning, I discovered a singular affinit y bet ween seeds and corduroys. Mr. Pum blechook wore corduroys, and so did his shopm an; and som ehow, t here was a general air and flavour about t he corduroys, so m uch in t he nat ure of seeds, and a general air and flavour about t he seeds, so m uch in t he nat ure of corduroys, t hat I hardly knew which was which. The sam e opport unit y served m e for not icing t hat Mr. Pum blechook appeared t o conduct his business by looking across t he st reet at t he saddler, who appeared t o t ransact his business by keeping his eye on t he coach- m aker, who appeared t o get on in life by put t ing his hands in his pocket s and cont em plat ing t he baker, who in his 74
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t urn folded his arm s and st ared at t he grocer, who st ood at his door and yawned at t he chem ist . The wat ch- m aker, always poring over a lit t le desk wit h a m agnifying glass at his eye, and always inspect ed by a group of sm ock- frocks poring over him t hrough t he glass of his shop- window, seem ed t o be about t he only person in t he High- st reet whose t rade engaged his at t ent ion. Mr. Pum blechook and I breakfast ed at eight o'clock in t he parlour behind t he shop, while t he shopm an t ook his m ug of t ea and hunch of bread- and- but t er on a sack of peas in t he front prem ises. I considered Mr. Pum blechook wret ched com pany. Besides being possessed by m y sist er's idea t hat a m ort ifying and penit ent ial charact er ought t o be im part ed t o m y diet —besides giving m e as m uch crum b as possible in com binat ion wit h as lit t le but t er, and put t ing such a quant it y of warm wat er int o m y m ilk t hat it would have been m ore candid t o have left t he m ilk out alt oget her—his conversat ion consist ed of not hing but arit hm et ic. On m y polit ely bidding him Good m orning, he said, pom pously, “ Seven t im es nine, boy?” And how should I be able t o answer, dodged in t hat way, in a st range place, on an em pt y st om ach! I was hungry, but before I had swallowed a m orsel, he began a running sum t hat last ed all t hrough t he breakfast . “ Seven?” “ And four?” “ And eight ?” “ And six?” “ And t wo?” “ And t en?” And so on. And aft er each figure was disposed of, it was as m uch as I could do t o get a bit e or a sup, before t he next cam e; while he sat at his ease guessing not hing, and eat ing bacon and hot roll, in ( if I m ay be allowed t he expression) a gorging and gorm andising m anner. 75
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
For such reasons I was very glad when t en o'clock cam e and we st art ed for Miss Havisham 's; t hough I was not at all at m y ease regarding t he m anner in which I should acquit m yself under t hat lady's roof. Wit hin a quart er of an hour we cam e t o Miss Havisham 's house, which was of old brick, and dism al, and had a great m any iron bars t o it . Som e of t he windows had been walled up; of t hose t hat rem ained, all t he lower were rust ily barred. There was a court - yard in front , and t hat was barred; so, we had t o wait , aft er ringing t he bell, unt il som e one should com e t o open it . While we wait ed at t he gat e, I peeped in ( even t hen Mr. Pum blechook said, “ And fourt een?” but I pret ended not t o hear him ) , and saw t hat at t he side of t he house t here was a large brewery. No brewing was going on in it , and none seem ed t o have gone on for a long long t im e. A window was raised, and a clear voice dem anded “ What nam e?” To which m y conduct or replied, “ Pum blechook.” The voice ret urned, “ Quit e right ,” and t he window was shut again, and a young lady cam e across t he court - yard, wit h keys in her hand. “ This,” said Mr. Pum blechook, “ is Pip.” “ This is Pip, is it ?” ret urned t he young lady, who was very pret t y and seem ed very proud; “ com e in, Pip.” Mr. Pum blechook was com ing in also, when she st opped him wit h t he gat e. “ Oh! ” she said. “ Did you wish t o see Miss Havisham ?” “ I f Miss Havisham wished t o see m e,” ret urned Mr. Pum blechook, discom fit ed. “ Ah! ” said t he girl; “ but you see she don't .” 76
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
She said it so finally, and in such an undiscussible way, t hat Mr. Pum blechook, t hough in a condit ion of ruffled dignit y, could not prot est . But he eyed m e severely—as if I had done anyt hing t o him ! —and depart ed wit h t he words reproachfully delivered: “ Boy! Let your behaviour here be a credit unt o t hem which brought you up by hand! ” I was not free from apprehension t hat he would com e back t o propound t hrough t he gat e, “ And sixt een?” But he didn't . My young conduct ress locked t he gat e, and we went across t he court - yard. I t was paved and clean, but grass was growing in every crevice. The brewery buildings had a lit t le lane of com m unicat ion wit h it , and t he wooden gat es of t hat lane st ood open, and all t he brewery beyond, st ood open, away t o t he high enclosing wall; and all was em pt y and disused. The cold wind seem ed t o blow colder t here, t han out side t he gat e; and it m ade a shrill noise in howling in and out at t he open sides of t he brewery, like t he noise of wind in t he rigging of a ship at sea. She saw m e looking at it , and she said, “ You could drink wit hout hurt all t he st rong beer t hat 's brewed t here now, boy.” “ I should t hink I could, m iss,” said I , in a shy way. “ Bet t er not t ry t o brew beer t here now, or it would t urn out sour, boy; don't you t hink so?” “ I t looks like it , m iss.” “ Not t hat anybody m eans t o t ry,” she added, “ for t hat 's all done wit h, and t he place will st and as idle as it is, t ill it falls. As t o st rong beer, t here's enough of it in t he cellars already, t o drown t he Manor House.” 77
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I s t hat t he nam e of t his house, m iss?” “ One of it s nam es, boy.” “ I t has m ore t han one, t hen, m iss?” “ One m ore. I t s ot her nam e was Sat is; which is Greek, or Lat in, or Hebrew, or all t hree—or all one t o m e—for enough.” “ Enough House,” said I ; “ t hat 's a curious nam e, m iss.” “ Yes,” she replied; “ but it m eant m ore t han it said. I t m eant , when it was given, t hat whoever had t his house, could want not hing else. They m ust have been easily sat isfied in t hose days, I should t hink. But don't loit er, boy.” Though she called m e “ boy” so oft en, and wit h a carelessness t hat was far from com plim ent ary, she was of about m y own age. She seem ed m uch older t han I , of course, being a girl, and beaut iful and self- possessed; and she was as scornful of m e as if she had been one- and- t went y, and a queen. We went int o t he house by a side door—t he great front ent rance had t wo chains across it out side—and t he first t hing I not iced was, t hat t he passages were all dark, and t hat she had left a candle burning t here. She t ook it up, and we went t hrough m ore passages and up a st aircase, and st ill it was all dark, and only t he candle light ed us. At last we cam e t o t he door of a room , and she said, “ Go in.” I answered, m ore in shyness t han polit eness, “ Aft er you, m iss.” To t his, she ret urned: “ Don't be ridiculous, boy; I am not going in.” And scornfully walked away, and—what was worse—t ook t he candle wit h her. 78
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
This was very uncom fort able, and I was half afraid. However, t he only t hing t o be done being t o knock at t he door, I knocked, and was t old from wit hin t o ent er. I ent ered, t herefore, and found m yself in a pret t y large room , well light ed wit h wax candles. No glim pse of daylight was t o be seen in it . I t was a dressing- room , as I supposed from t he furnit ure, t hough m uch of it was of form s and uses t hen quit e unknown t o m e. But prom inent in it was a draped t able wit h a gilded looking- glass, and t hat I m ade out at first sight t o be a fine lady's dressing- t able. Whet her I should have m ade out t his obj ect so soon, if t here had been no fine lady sit t ing at it , I cannot say. I n an arm - chair, wit h an elbow rest ing on t he t able and her head leaning on t hat hand, sat t he st rangest lady I have ever seen, or shall ever see. She was dressed in rich m at erials—sat ins, and lace, and silks—all of whit e. Her shoes were whit e. And she had a long whit e veil dependent from her hair, and she had bridal flowers in her hair, but her hair was whit e. Som e bright j ewels sparkled on her neck and on her hands, and som e ot her j ewels lay sparkling on t he t able. Dresses, less splendid t han t he dress she wore, and half- packed t runks, were scat t ered about . She had not quit e finished dressing, for she had but one shoe on—t he ot her was on t he t able near her hand—her veil was but half arranged, her wat ch and chain were not put on, and som e lace for her bosom lay wit h t hose t rinket s, and wit h her handkerchief, and gloves, and som e flowers, and a prayer- book, all confusedly heaped about t he looking- glass. 79
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t was not in t he first few m om ent s t hat I saw all t hese t hings, t hough I saw m ore of t hem in t he first m om ent s t han m ight be supposed. But , I saw t hat everyt hing wit hin m y view which ought t o be whit e, had been whit e long ago, and had lost it s lust re, and was faded and yellow. I saw t hat t he bride wit hin t he bridal dress had wit hered like t he dress, and like t he flowers, and had no bright ness left but t he bright ness of her sunken eyes. I saw t hat t he dress had been put upon t he rounded figure of a young wom an, and t hat t he figure upon which it now hung loose, had shrunk t o skin and bone. Once, I had been t aken t o see som e ghast ly waxwork at t he Fair, represent ing I know not what im possible personage lying in st at e. Once, I had been t aken t o one of our old m arsh churches t o see a skelet on in t he ashes of a rich dress, t hat had been dug out of a vault under t he church pavem ent . Now, waxwork and skelet on seem ed t o have dark eyes t hat m oved and looked at m e. I should have cried out , if I could. “ Who is it ?” said t he lady at t he t able. “ Pip, m a'am .” “ Pip?” “ Mr. Pum blechook's boy, m a'am . Com e—t o play.” “ Com e nearer; let m e look at you. Com e close.” I t was when I st ood before her, avoiding her eyes, t hat I t ook not e of t he surrounding obj ect s in det ail, and saw t hat her wat ch had st opped at t went y m inut es t o nine, and t hat a clock in t he room had st opped at t went y m inut es t o nine. “ Look at m e,” said Miss Havisham . “ You are not afraid of a wom an who has never seen t he sun since you were born?” 80
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I regret t o st at e t hat I was not afraid of t elling t he enorm ous lie com prehended in t he answer “ No.” “ Do you know what I t ouch here?” she said, laying her hands, one upon t he ot her, on her left side. “ Yes, m a'am .” ( I t m ade m e t hink of t he young m an.) “ What do I t ouch?” “ Your heart .” “ Broken! ” She ut t ered t he word wit h an eager look, and wit h st rong em phasis, and wit h a weird sm ile t hat had a kind of boast in it . Aft erwards, she kept her hands t here for a lit t le while, and slowly t ook t hem away as if t hey were heavy. “ I am t ired,” said Miss Havisham . “ I want diversion, and I have done wit h m en and wom en. Play.” I t hink it will be conceded by m y m ost disput at ious reader, t hat she could hardly have direct ed an unfort unat e boy t o do anyt hing in t he wide world m ore difficult t o be done under t he circum st ances. “ I som et im es have sick fancies,” she went on, “ and I have a sick fancy t hat I want t o see som e play. There t here! ” wit h an im pat ient m ovem ent of t he fingers of her right hand; “ play, play, play! ” For a m om ent , wit h t he fear of m y sist er's working m e before m y eyes, I had a desperat e idea of st art ing round t he room in t he assum ed charact er of Mr. Pum blechook's chaisecart . But , I felt m yself so unequal t o t he perform ance t hat I gave it up, and st ood looking at Miss Havisham in what I suppose she t ook for a dogged m anner, inasm uch as she said, when we had t aken a good look at each ot her: 81
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Are you sullen and obst inat e?” “ No, m a'am , I am very sorry for you, and very sorry I can't play j ust now. I f you com plain of m e I shall get int o t rouble wit h m y sist er, so I would do it if I could; but it 's so new here, and so st range, and so fine—and m elancholy—.” I st opped, fearing I m ight say t oo m uch, or had already said it , and we t ook anot her look at each ot her. Before she spoke again, she t urned her eyes from m e, and looked at t he dress she wore, and at t he dressing- t able, and finally at herself in t he looking- glass. “ So new t o him ,” she m ut t ered, “ so old t o m e; so st range t o him , so fam iliar t o m e; so m elancholy t o bot h of us! Call Est ella.” As she was st ill looking at t he reflect ion of herself, I t hought she was st ill t alking t o herself, and kept quiet . “ Call Est ella,” she repeat ed, flashing a look at m e. “ You can do t hat . Call Est ella. At t he door.” To st and in t he dark in a m yst erious passage of an unknown house, bawling Est ella t o a scornful young lady neit her visible nor responsive, and feeling it a dreadful libert y so t o roar out her nam e, was alm ost as bad as playing t o order. But , she answered at last , and her light cam e along t he dark passage like a st ar. Miss Havisham beckoned her t o com e close, and t ook up a j ewel from t he t able, and t ried it s effect upon her fair young bosom and against her pret t y brown hair. “ Your own, one day, m y dear, and you will use it well. Let m e see you play cards wit h t his boy.” “ Wit h t his boy? Why, he is a com m on labouring- boy! ” 82
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t hought I overheard Miss Havisham answer—only it seem ed so unlikely—" Well? You can break his heart .” “ What do you play, boy?” asked Est ella of m yself, wit h t he great est disdain. “ Not hing but beggar m y neighbour, m iss.” “ Beggar him ,” said Miss Havisham t o Est ella. So we sat down t o cards. I t was t hen I began t o underst and t hat everyt hing in t he room had st opped, like t he wat ch and t he clock, a long t im e ago. I not iced t hat Miss Havisham put down t he j ewel exact ly on t he spot from which she had t aken it up. As Est ella dealt t he cards, I glanced at t he dressing- t able again, and saw t hat t he shoe upon it , once whit e, now yellow, had never been worn. I glanced down at t he foot from which t he shoe was absent , and saw t hat t he silk st ocking on it , once whit e, now yellow, had been t rodden ragged. Wit hout t his arrest of everyt hing, t his st anding st ill of all t he pale decayed obj ect s, not even t he wit hered bridal dress on t he collapsed from could have looked so like grave- clot hes, or t he long veil so like a shroud. So she sat , corpse- like, as we played at cards; t he frillings and t rim m ings on her bridal dress, looking like eart hy paper. I knew not hing t hen, of t he discoveries t hat are occasionally m ade of bodies buried in ancient t im es, which fall t o powder in t he m om ent of being dist inct ly seen; but , I have oft en t hought since, t hat she m ust have looked as if t he adm ission of t he nat ural light of day would have st ruck her t o dust .
83
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ He calls t he knaves, Jacks, t his boy! ” said Est ella wit h disdain, before our first gam e was out . “ And what coarse hands he has! And what t hick boot s! ” I had never t hought of being asham ed of m y hands before; but I began t o consider t hem a very indifferent pair. Her cont em pt for m e was so st rong, t hat it becam e infect ious, and I caught it . She won t he gam e, and I dealt . I m isdealt , as was only nat ural, when I knew she was lying in wait for m e t o do wrong; and she denounced m e for a st upid, clum sy labouringboy. “ You say not hing of her,” rem arked Miss Havisham t o m e, as she looked on. “ She says m any hard t hings of you, but you say not hing of her. What do you t hink of her?” “ I don't like t o say,” I st am m ered. “ Tell m e in m y ear,” said Miss Havisham , bending down. “ I t hink she is very proud,” I replied, in a whisper. “ Anyt hing else?” “ I t hink she is very pret t y.” “ Anyt hing else?” “ I t hink she is very insult ing.” ( She was looking at m e t hen wit h a look of suprem e aversion.) “ Anyt hing else?” “ I t hink I should like t o go hom e.” “ And never see her again, t hough she is so pret t y?” “ I am not sure t hat I shouldn't like t o see her again, but I should like t o go hom e now.” “ You shall go soon,” said Miss Havisham , aloud. “ Play t he gam e out .” 84
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Saving for t he one weird sm ile at first , I should have felt alm ost sure t hat Miss Havisham 's face could not sm ile. I t had dropped int o a wat chful and brooding expression—m ost likely when all t he t hings about her had becom e t ransfixed—and it looked as if not hing could ever lift it up again. Her chest had dropped, so t hat she st ooped; and her voice had dropped, so t hat she spoke low, and wit h a dead lull upon her; alt oget her, she had t he appearance of having dropped, body and soul, wit hin and wit hout , under t he weight of a crushing blow. I played t he gam e t o an end wit h Est ella, and she beggared m e. She t hrew t he cards down on t he t able when she had won t hem all, as if she despised t hem for having been won of m e. “ When shall I have you here again?” said m iss Havisham . “ Let m e t hink.” I was beginning t o rem ind her t hat t o- day was Wednesday, when she checked m e wit h her form er im pat ient m ovem ent of t he fingers of her right hand. “ There, t here! I know not hing of days of t he week; I know not hing of weeks of t he year. Com e again aft er six days. You hear?” “ Yes, m a'am .” “ Est ella, t ake him down. Let him have som et hing t o eat , and let him roam and look about him while he eat s. Go, Pip.” I followed t he candle down, as I had followed t he candle up, and she st ood it in t he place where we had found it . Unt il she opened t he side ent rance, I had fancied, wit hout t hinking about it , t hat it m ust necessarily be night - t im e. The rush of 85
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he daylight quit e confounded m e, and m ade m e feel as if I had been in t he candlelight of t he st range room m any hours. “ You are t o wait here, you boy,” said Est ella; and disappeared and closed t he door. I t ook t he opport unit y of being alone in t he court - yard, t o look at m y coarse hands and m y com m on boot s. My opinion of t hose accessories was not favourable. They had never t roubled m e before, but t hey t roubled m e now, as vulgar appendages. I det erm ined t o ask Joe why he had ever t aught m e t o call t hose pict ure- cards, Jacks, which ought t o be called knaves. I wished Joe had been rat her m ore gent eelly brought up, and t hen I should have been so t oo. She cam e back, wit h som e bread and m eat and a lit t le m ug of beer. She put t he m ug down on t he st ones of t he yard, and gave m e t he bread and m eat wit hout looking at m e, as insolent ly as if I were a dog in disgrace. I was so hum iliat ed, hurt , spurned, offended, angry, sorry—I cannot hit upon t he right nam e for t he sm art —God knows what it s nam e was—t hat t ears st art ed t o m y eyes. The m om ent t hey sprang t here, t he girl looked at m e wit h a quick delight in having been t he cause of t hem . This gave m e power t o keep t hem back and t o look at her: so, she gave a cont em pt uous t oss—but wit h a sense, I t hought , of having m ade t oo sure t hat I was so wounded—and left m e. But , when she was gone, I looked about m e for a place t o hide m y face in, and got behind one of t he gat es in t he brewery- lane, and leaned m y sleeve against t he wall t here, and leaned m y forehead on it and cried. As I cried, I kicked t he wall, and t ook a hard t wist at m y hair; so bit t er were m y 86
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
feelings, and so sharp was t he sm art wit hout a nam e, t hat needed count eract ion. My sist er's bringing up had m ade m e sensit ive. I n t he lit t le world in which children have t heir exist ence whosoever brings t hem up, t here is not hing so finely perceived and so finely felt , as inj ust ice. I t m ay be only sm all inj ust ice t hat t he child can be exposed t o; but t he child is sm all, and it s world is sm all, and it s rocking- horse st ands as m any hands high, according t o scale, as a big- boned I rish hunt er. Wit hin m yself, I had sust ained, from m y babyhood, a perpet ual conflict wit h inj ust ice. I had known, from t he t im e when I could speak, t hat m y sist er, in her capricious and violent coercion, was unj ust t o m e. I had cherished a profound convict ion t hat her bringing m e up by hand, gave her no right t o bring m e up by j erks. Through all m y punishm ent s, disgraces, fast s and vigils, and ot her penit ent ial perform ances, I had nursed t his assurance; and t o m y com m uning so m uch wit h it , in a solit ary and unprot ect ed way, I in great part refer t he fact t hat I was m orally t im id and very sensit ive. I got rid of m y inj ured feelings for t he t im e, by kicking t hem int o t he brewery wall, and t wist ing t hem out of m y hair, and t hen I sm oot hed m y face wit h m y sleeve, and cam e from behind t he gat e. The bread and m eat were accept able, and t he beer was warm ing and t ingling, and I was soon in spirit s t o look about m e. To be sure, it was a desert ed place, down t o t he pigeonhouse in t he brewery- yard, which had been blown crooked on it s pole by som e high wind, and would have m ade t he pigeons t hink t hem selves at sea, if t here had been any pigeons t here 87
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o be rocked by it . But , t here were no pigeons in t he dovecot , no horses in t he st able, no pigs in t he st y, no m alt in t he st ore- house, no sm ells of grains and beer in t he copper or t he vat . All t he uses and scent s of t he brewery m ight have evaporat ed wit h it s last reek of sm oke. I n a by- yard, t here was a wilderness of em pt y casks, which had a cert ain sour rem em brance of bet t er days lingering about t hem ; but it was t oo sour t o be accept ed as a sam ple of t he beer t hat was gone—and in t his respect I rem em ber t hose recluses as being like m ost ot hers. Behind t he furt hest end of t he brewery, was a rank garden wit h an old wall: not so high but t hat I could st ruggle up and hold on long enough t o look over it , and see t hat t he rank garden was t he garden of t he house, and t hat it was overgrown wit h t angled weeds, but t hat t here was a t rack upon t he green and yellow pat hs, as if som e one som et im es walked t here, and t hat Est ella was walking away from m e even t hen. But she seem ed t o be everywhere. For, when I yielded t o t he t em pt at ion present ed by t he casks, and began t o walk on t hem . I saw her walking on t hem at t he end of t he yard of casks. She had her back t owards m e, and held her pret t y brown hair spread out in her t wo hands, and never looked round, and passed out of m y view direct ly. So, in t he brewery it self—by which I m ean t he large paved loft y place in which t hey used t o m ake t he beer, and where t he brewing ut ensils st ill were. When I first went int o it , and, rat her oppressed by it s gloom , st ood near t he door looking about m e, I saw her pass am ong t he ext inguished fires, and ascend 88
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
som e light iron st airs, and go out by a gallery high overhead, as if she were going out int o t he sky. I t was in t his place, and at t his m om ent , t hat a st range t hing happened t o m y fancy. I t hought it a st range t hing t hen, and I t hought it a st ranger t hing long aft erwards. I t urned m y eyes—a lit t le dim m ed by looking up at t he frost y light —t owards a great wooden beam in a low nook of t he building near m e on m y right hand, and I saw a figure hanging t here by t he neck. A figure all in yellow whit e, wit h but one shoe t o t he feet ; and it hung so, t hat I could see t hat t he faded t rim m ings of t he dress were like eart hy paper, and t hat t he face was Miss Havisham 's, wit h a m ovem ent going over t he whole count enance as if she were t rying t o call t o m e. I n t he t error of seeing t he figure, and in t he t error of being cert ain t hat it had not been t here a m om ent before, I at first ran from it , and t hen ran t owards it . And m y t error was great est of all, when I found no figure t here. Not hing less t han t he frost y light of t he cheerful sky, t he sight of people passing beyond t he bars of t he court - yard gat e, and t he reviving influence of t he rest of t he bread and m eat and beer, would have brought m e round. Even wit h t hose aids, I m ight not have com e t o m yself as soon as I did, but t hat I saw Est ella approaching wit h t he keys, t o let m e out . She would have som e fair reason for looking down upon m e, I t hought , if she saw m e fright ened; and she would have no fair reason. She gave m e a t rium phant glance in passing m e, as if she rej oiced t hat m y hands were so coarse and m y boot s were so t hick, and she opened t he gat e, and st ood holding it . I was 89
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
passing out wit hout looking at her, when she t ouched m e wit h a t aunt ing hand. “ Why don't you cry?” “ Because I don't want t o.” “ You do,” said she. “ You have been crying t ill you are half blind, and you are near crying again now.” She laughed cont em pt uously, pushed m e out , and locked t he gat e upon m e. I went st raight t o Mr. Pum blechook's, and was im m ensely relieved t o find him not at hom e. So, leaving word wit h t he shopm an on what day I was want ed at Miss Havisham 's again, I set off on t he four- m ile walk t o our forge; pondering, as I went along, on all I had seen, and deeply revolving t hat I was a com m on labouring- boy; t hat m y hands were coarse; t hat m y boot s were t hick; t hat I had fallen int o a despicable habit of calling knaves Jacks; t hat I was m uch m ore ignorant t han I had considered m yself last night , and generally t hat I was in a low- lived bad way.
90
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 9 When I reached hom e, m y sist er was very curious t o know all about Miss Havisham 's, and asked a num ber of quest ions. And I soon found m yself get t ing heavily bum ped from behind in t he nape of t he neck and t he sm all of t he back, and having m y face ignom iniously shoved against t he kit chen wall, because I did not answer t hose quest ions at sufficient lengt h. I f a dread of not being underst ood be hidden in t he breast s of ot her young people t o anyt hing like t he ext ent t o which it used t o be hidden in m ine—which I consider probable, as I have no part icular reason t o suspect m yself of having been a m onst rosit y—it is t he key t o m any reservat ions. I felt convinced t hat if I described Miss Havisham 's as m y eyes had seen it , I should not be underst ood. Not only t hat , but I felt convinced t hat Miss Havisham t oo would not be underst ood; and alt hough she was perfect ly incom prehensible t o m e, I ent ert ained an im pression t hat t here would be som et hing coarse and t reacherous in m y dragging her as she really was ( t o say not hing of Miss Est ella) before t he cont em plat ion of Mrs. Joe. Consequent ly, I said as lit t le as I could, and had m y face shoved against t he kit chen wall. The worst of it was t hat t hat bullying old Pum blechook, preyed upon by a devouring curiosit y t o be inform ed of all I had seen and heard, cam e gaping over in his chaise- cart at t ea- t im e, t o have t he det ails divulged t o him . And t he m ere sight of t he t orm ent , wit h his fishy eyes and m out h open, his 91
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
sandy hair inquisit ively on end, and his waist coat heaving wit h windy arit hm et ic, m ade m e vicious in m y ret icence. “ Well, boy,” Uncle Pum blechook began, as soon as he was seat ed in t he chair of honour by t he fire. “ How did you get on up t own?” I answered, “ Pret t y well, sir,” and m y sist er shook her fist at m e. “ Pret t y well?” Mr. Pum blechook repeat ed. “ Pret t y well is no answer. Tell us what you m ean by pret t y well, boy?” Whit ewash on t he forehead hardens t he brain int o a st at e of obst inacy perhaps. Anyhow, wit h whit ewash from t he wall on m y forehead, m y obst inacy was adam ant ine. I reflect ed for som e t im e, and t hen answered as if I had discovered a new idea, “ I m ean pret t y well.” My sist er wit h an exclam at ion of im pat ience was going t o fly at m e—I had no shadow of defence, for Joe was busy in t he forge when Mr. Pum blechook int erposed wit h “ No! Don't lose your t em per. Leave t his lad t o m e, m a'am ; leave t his lad t o m e.” Mr. Pum blechook t hen t urned m e t owards him , as if he were going t o cut m y hair, and said: “ First ( t o get our t hought s in order) : Fort y- t hree pence?” I calculat ed t he consequences of replying “ Four Hundred Pound,” and finding t hem against m e, went as near t he answer as I could—which was som ewhere about eight pence off. Mr. Pum blechook t hen put m e t hrough m y pence- t able from “ t welve pence m ake one shilling,” up t o “ fort y pence m ake t hree and fourpence,” and t hen t rium phant ly dem anded, as if he had done for m e, “ Now! How m uch is fort y- t hree pence?” To which I replied, aft er a long int erval of 92
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
reflect ion, “ I don't know.” And I was so aggravat ed t hat I alm ost doubt if I did know. Mr. Pum blechook worked his head like a screw t o screw it out of m e, and said, “ I s fort y- t hree pence seven and sixpence t hree fardens, for inst ance?” “ Yes! ” said I . And alt hough m y sist er inst ant ly boxed m y ears, it was highly grat ifying t o m e t o see t hat t he answer spoilt his j oke, and brought him t o a dead st op. “ Boy! What like is Miss Havisham ?” Mr. Pum blechook began again when he had recovered; folding his arm s t ight on his chest and applying t he screw. “ Very t all and dark,” I t old him . “ I s she, uncle?” asked m y sist er. Mr. Pum blechook winked assent ; from which I at once inferred t hat he had never seen Miss Havisham , for she was not hing of t he kind. “ Good! ” said Mr. Pum blechook conceit edly. ( " This is t he way t o have him ! We are beginning t o hold our own, I t hink, Mum ?" ) “ I am sure, uncle,” ret urned Mrs. Joe, “ I wish you had him always: you know so well how t o deal wit h him .” “ Now, boy! What was she a- doing of, when you went in t oday?” asked Mr. Pum blechook. “ She was sit t ing,” I answered, “ in a black velvet coach.” Mr. Pum blechook and Mrs. Joe st ared at one anot her—as t hey well m ight —and bot h repeat ed, “ I n a black velvet coach?” “ Yes,” said I . “ And Miss Est ella—t hat 's her niece, I t hink— handed her in cake and wine at t he coach- window, on a gold 93
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
plat e. And we all had cake and wine on gold plat es. And I got up behind t he coach t o eat m ine, because she t old m e t o.” “ Was anybody else t here?” asked Mr. Pum blechook. “ Four dogs,” said I . “ Large or sm all?” “ I m m ense,” said I . “ And t hey fought for veal cut let s out of a silver basket .” Mr. Pum blechook and Mrs. Joe st ared at one anot her again, in ut t er am azem ent . I was perfect ly frant ic—a reckless wit ness under t he t ort ure—and would have t old t hem anyt hing. “ Where was t his coach, in t he nam e of gracious?” asked m y sist er. “ I n Miss Havisham 's room .” They st ared again. “ But t here weren't any horses t o it .” I added t his saving clause, in t he m om ent of rej ect ing four richly caparisoned coursers which I had had wild t hought s of harnessing. “ Can t his be possible, uncle?” asked Mrs. Joe. “ What can t he boy m ean?” “ I 'll t ell you, Mum ,” said Mr. Pum blechook. “ My opinion is, it 's a sedan- chair. She's flight y, you know—very flight y—quit e flight y enough t o pass her days in a sedan- chair.” “ Did you ever see her in it , uncle?” asked Mrs. Joe. “ How could I ,” he ret urned, forced t o t he adm ission, “ when I never see her in m y life? Never clapped eyes upon her! ” “ Goodness, uncle! And yet you have spoken t o her?” “ Why, don't you know,” said Mr. Pum blechook, t est ily, “ t hat when I have been t here, I have been t ook up t o t he out side of her door, and t he door has st ood aj ar, and she has 94
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
spoke t o m e t hat way. Don't say you don't know t hat , Mum . Howsever, t he boy went t here t o play. What did you play at , boy?” “ We played wit h flags,” I said. ( I beg t o observe t hat I t hink of m yself wit h am azem ent , when I recall t he lies I t old on t his occasion.) “ Flags! ” echoed m y sist er. “ Yes,” said I . “ Est ella waved a blue flag, and I waved a red one, and Miss Havisham waved one sprinkled all over wit h lit t le gold st ars, out at t he coach- window. And t hen we all waved our swords and hurrahed.” “ Swords! ” repeat ed m y sist er. “ Where did you get swords from ?” “ Out of a cupboard,” said I . “ And I saw pist ols in it —and j am —and pills. And t here was no daylight in t he room , but it was all light ed up wit h candles.” “ That 's t rue, Mum ,” said Mr. Pum blechook, wit h a grave nod. “ That 's t he st at e of t he case, for t hat m uch I 've seen m yself.” And t hen t hey bot h st ared at m e, and I , wit h an obt rusive show of art lessness on m y count enance, st ared at t hem , and plait ed t he right leg of m y t rousers wit h m y right hand. I f t hey had asked m e any m ore quest ions I should undoubt edly have bet rayed m yself, for I was even t hen on t he point of m ent ioning t hat t here was a balloon in t he yard, and should have hazarded t he st at em ent but for m y invent ion being divided bet ween t hat phenom enon and a bear in t he brewery. They were so m uch occupied, however, in discussing t he m arvels I had already present ed for t heir considerat ion, 95
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat I escaped. The subj ect st ill held t hem when Joe cam e in from his work t o have a cup of t ea. To whom m y sist er, m ore for t he relief of her own m ind t han for t he grat ificat ion of his, relat ed m y pret ended experiences. Now, when I saw Joe open his blue eyes and roll t hem all round t he kit chen in helpless am azem ent , I was overt aken by penit ence; but only as regarded him —not in t he least as regarded t he ot her t wo. Towards Joe, and Joe only, I considered m yself a young m onst er, while t hey sat debat ing what result s would com e t o m e from Miss Havisham 's acquaint ance and favour. They had no doubt t hat Miss Havisham would “ do som et hing” for m e; t heir doubt s relat ed t o t he form t hat som et hing would t ake. My sist er st ood out for “ propert y.” Mr. Pum blechook was in favour of a handsom e prem ium for binding m e apprent ice t o som e gent eel t rade— say, t he corn and seed t rade, for inst ance. Joe fell int o t he deepest disgrace wit h bot h, for offering t he bright suggest ion t hat I m ight only be present ed wit h one of t he dogs who had fought for t he veal- cut let s. “ I f a fool's head can't express bet t er opinions t han t hat ,” said m y sist er, “ and you have got any work t o do, you had bet t er go and do it .” So he went . Aft er Mr. Pum blechook had driven off, and when m y sist er was washing up, I st ole int o t he forge t o Joe, and rem ained by him unt il he had done for t he night . Then I said, “ Before t he fire goes out , Joe, I should like t o t ell you som et hing.” “ Should you, Pip?” said Joe, drawing his shoeing- st ool near t he forge. “ Then t ell us. What is it , Pip?”
96
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Joe,” said I , t aking hold of his rolled- up shirt sleeve, and t wist ing it bet ween m y finger and t hum b, “ you rem em ber all t hat about Miss Havisham 's?” “ Rem em ber?” said Joe. “ I believe you! Wonderful! ” “ I t 's a t errible t hing, Joe; it ain't t rue.” “ What are you t elling of, Pip?” cried Joe, falling back in t he great est am azem ent . “ You don't m ean t o say it 's—” “ Yes I do; it 's lies, Joe.” “ But not all of it ? Why sure you don't m ean t o say, Pip, t hat t here was no black welwet coach?” For, I st ood shaking m y head. “ But at least t here was dogs, Pip? Com e, Pip,” said Joe, persuasively, “ if t here warn't no weal- cut let s, at least t here was dogs?” “ No, Joe.” “ A dog?” said Joe. “ A puppy? Com e?” “ No, Joe, t here was not hing at all of t he kind.” As I fixed m y eyes hopelessly on Joe, Joe cont em plat ed m e in dism ay. “ Pip, old chap! This won't do, old fellow! I say! Where do you expect t o go t o?” “ I t 's t errible, Joe; an't it ?” “ Terrible?” cried Joe. “ Awful! What possessed you?” “ I don't know what possessed m e, Joe,” I replied, let t ing his shirt sleeve go, and sit t ing down in t he ashes at his feet , hanging m y head; “ but I wish you hadn't t aught m e t o call Knaves at cards, Jacks; and I wish m y boot s weren't so t hick nor m y hands so coarse.” And t hen I t old Joe t hat I felt very m iserable, and t hat I hadn't been able t o explain m yself t o Mrs. Joe and Pum blechook who were so rude t o m e, and t hat t here had 97
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
been a beaut iful young lady at Miss Havisham 's who was dreadfully proud, and t hat she had said I was com m on, and t hat I knew I was com m on, and t hat I wished I was not com m on, and t hat t he lies had com e of it som ehow, t hough I didn't know how. This was a case of m et aphysics, at least as difficult for Joe t o deal wit h, as for m e. But Joe t ook t he case alt oget her out of t he region of m et aphysics, and by t hat m eans vanquished it . “ There's one t hing you m ay be sure of, Pip,” said Joe, aft er som e rum inat ion, “ nam ely, t hat lies is lies. Howsever t hey com e, t hey didn't ought t o com e, and t hey com e from t he fat her of lies, and work round t o t he sam e. Don't you t ell no m ore of ‘em , Pip. That ain't t he way t o get out of being com m on, old chap. And as t o being com m on, I don't m ake it out at all clear. You are oncom m on in som e t hings. You're oncom m on sm all. Likewise you're a oncom m on scholar.” “ No, I am ignorant and backward, Joe.” “ Why, see what a let t er you wrot e last night ! Wrot e in print even! I 've seen let t ers—Ah! and from gent lefolks! —t hat I 'll swear weren't wrot e in print ,” said Joe. “ I have learnt next t o not hing, Joe. You t hink m uch of m e. I t 's only t hat .” “ Well, Pip,” said Joe, “ be it so or be it son't , you m ust be a com m on scholar afore you can be a oncom m on one, I should hope! The king upon his t hrone, wit h his crown upon his ‘ed, can't sit and writ e his act s of Parliam ent in print , wit hout having begun, when he were a unprom ot ed Prince, wit h t he alphabet —Ah! ” added Joe, wit h a shake of t he head t hat was 98
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
full of m eaning, “ and begun at A t oo, and worked his way t o Z. And I know what t hat is t o do, t hough I can't say I 've exact ly done it .” There was som e hope in t his piece of wisdom , and it rat her encouraged m e. “ Whet her com m on ones as t o callings and earnings,” pursued Joe, reflect ively, “ m ight n't be t he bet t er of cont inuing for a keep com pany wit h com m on ones, inst ead of going out t o play wit h oncom m on ones—which rem inds m e t o hope t hat t here were a flag, perhaps?” “ No, Joe.” “ ( I 'm sorry t here weren't a flag, Pip) . Whet her t hat m ight be, or m ight n't be, is a t hing as can't be looked int o now, wit hout put t ing your sist er on t he Ram page; and t hat 's a t hing not t o be t hought of, as being done int ent ional. Lookee here, Pip, at what is said t o you by a t rue friend. Which t his t o you t he t rue friend say. I f you can't get t o be oncom m on t hrough going st raight , you'll never get t o do it t hrough going crooked. So don't t ell no m ore on ‘em , Pip, and live well and die happy.” “ You are not angry wit h m e, Joe?” “ No, old chap. But bearing in m ind t hat t hem were which I m eant ersay of a st unning and out dacious sort —alluding t o t hem which bordered on weal- cut let s and dog- fight ing—a sincere wellwisher would adwise, Pip, t heir being dropped int o your m edit at ions, when you go up- st airs t o bed. That 's all, old chap, and don't never do it no m ore.” When I got up t o m y lit t le room and said m y prayers, I did not forget Joe's recom m endat ion, and yet m y young m ind 99
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was in t hat dist urbed and unt hankful st at e, t hat I t hought long aft er I laid m e down, how com m on Est ella would consider Joe, a m ere blacksm it h: how t hick his boot s, and how coarse his hands. I t hought how Joe and m y sist er were t hen sit t ing in t he kit chen, and how I had com e up t o bed from t he kit chen, and how Miss Havisham and Est ella never sat in a kit chen, but were far above t he level of such com m on doings. I fell asleep recalling what I “ used t o do” when I was at Miss Havisham 's; as t hough I had been t here weeks or m ont hs, inst ead of hours; and as t hough it were quit e an old subj ect of rem em brance, inst ead of one t hat had arisen only t hat day. That was a m em orable day t o m e, for it m ade great changes in m e. But , it is t he sam e wit h any life. I m agine one select ed day st ruck out of it , and t hink how different it s course would have been. Pause you who read t his, and t hink for a m om ent of t he long chain of iron or gold, of t horns or flowers, t hat would never have bound you, but for t he form at ion of t he first link on one m em orable day.
100
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 10 The felicit ous idea occurred t o m e a m orning or t wo lat er when I woke, t hat t he best st ep I could t ake t owards m aking m yself uncom m on was t o get out of Biddy everyt hing she knew. I n pursuance of t his lum inous concept ion I m ent ioned t o Biddy when I went t o Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt 's at night , t hat I had a part icular reason for wishing t o get on in life, and t hat I should feel very m uch obliged t o her if she would im part all her learning t o m e. Biddy, who was t he m ost obliging of girls, im m ediat ely said she would, and indeed began t o carry out her prom ise wit hin five m inut es. The Educat ional schem e or Course est ablished by Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt m ay be resolved int o t he following synopsis. The pupils at e apples and put st raws down one anot her's backs, unt il Mr Wopsle's great - aunt collect ed her energies, and m ade an indiscrim inat e t ot t er at t hem wit h a birch- rod. Aft er receiving t he charge wit h every m ark of derision, t he pupils form ed in line and buzzingly passed a ragged book from hand t o hand. The book had an alphabet in it , som e figures and t ables, and a lit t le spelling—t hat is t o say, it had had once. As soon as t his volum e began t o circulat e, Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt fell int o a st at e of com a; arising eit her from sleep or a rheum at ic paroxysm . The pupils t hen ent ered am ong t hem selves upon a com pet it ive exam inat ion on t he subj ect of Boot s, wit h t he view of ascert aining who could t read t he hardest upon whose t oes. This m ent al exercise last ed unt il Biddy m ade a rush at t hem 101
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and dist ribut ed t hree defaced Bibles ( shaped as if t hey had been unskilfully cut off t he chum p- end of som et hing) , m ore illegibly print ed at t he best t han any curiosit ies of lit erat ure I have since m et wit h, speckled all over wit h ironm ould, and having various specim ens of t he insect world sm ashed bet ween t heir leaves. This part of t he Course was usually light ened by several single com bat s bet ween Biddy and refract ory st udent s. When t he fight s were over, Biddy gave out t he num ber of a page, and t hen we all read aloud what we could—or what we couldn't —in a fright ful chorus; Biddy leading wit h a high shrill m onot onous voice, and none of us having t he least not ion of, or reverence for, what we were reading about . When t his horrible din had last ed a cert ain t im e, it m echanically awoke Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt , who st aggered at a boy fort uit ously, and pulled his ears. This was underst ood t o t erm inat e t he Course for t he evening, and we em erged int o t he air wit h shrieks of int ellect ual vict ory. I t is fair t o rem ark t hat t here was no prohibit ion against any pupil's ent ert aining him self wit h a slat e or even wit h t he ink ( when t here was any) , but t hat it was not easy t o pursue t hat branch of st udy in t he wint er season, on account of t he lit t le general shop in which t he classes were holden—and which was also Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt 's sit t ing- room and bedcham ber—being but faint ly illum inat ed t hrough t he agency of one low- spirit ed dip- candle and no snuffers. I t appeared t o m e t hat it would t ake t im e, t o becom e uncom m on under t hese circum st ances: nevert heless, I resolved t o t ry it , and t hat very evening Biddy ent ered on our special agreem ent , by im part ing som e inform at ion from her 102
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
lit t le cat alogue of Prices, under t he head of m oist sugar, and lending m e, t o copy at hom e, a large old English D which she had im it at ed from t he heading of som e newspaper, and which I supposed, unt il she t old m e what it was, t o be a design for a buckle. Of course t here was a public- house in t he village, and of course Joe liked som et im es t o sm oke his pipe t here. I had received st rict orders from m y sist er t o call for him at t he Three Jolly Bargem en, t hat evening, on m y way from school, and bring him hom e at m y peril. To t he Three Jolly Bargem en, t herefore, I direct ed m y st eps. There was a bar at t he Jolly Bargem en, wit h som e alarm ingly long chalk scores in it on t he wall at t he side of t he door, which seem ed t o m e t o be never paid off. They had been t here ever since I could rem em ber, and had grown m ore t han I had. But t here was a quant it y of chalk about our count ry, and perhaps t he people neglect ed no opport unit y of t urning it t o account . I t being Sat urday night , I found t he landlord looking rat her grim ly at t hese records, but as m y business was wit h Joe and not wit h him , I m erely wished him good evening, and passed int o t he com m on room at t he end of t he passage, where t here was a bright large kit chen fire, and where Joe was sm oking his pipe in com pany wit h Mr. Wopsle and a st ranger. Joe greet ed m e as usual wit h “ Halloa, Pip, old chap! ” and t he m om ent he said t hat , t he st ranger t urned his head and looked at m e. He was a secret - looking m an whom I had never seen before. His head was all on one side, and one of his eyes was 103
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
half shut up, as if he were t aking aim at som et hing wit h an invisible gun. He had a pipe in his m out h, and he t ook it out , and, aft er slowly blowing all his sm oke away and looking hard at m e all t he t im e, nodded. So, I nodded, and t hen he nodded again, and m ade room on t he set t le beside him t hat I m ight sit down t here. But , as I was used t o sit beside Joe whenever I ent ered t hat place of resort , I said “ No, t hank you, sir,” and fell int o t he space Joe m ade for m e on t he opposit e set t le. The st range m an, aft er glancing at Joe, and seeing t hat his at t ent ion was ot herwise engaged, nodded t o m e again when I had t aken m y seat , and t hen rubbed his leg—in a very odd way, as it st ruck m e. “ You was saying,” said t he st range m an, t urning t o Joe, “ t hat you was a blacksm it h.” “ Yes. I said it , you know,” said Joe. “ What 'll you drink, Mr.—? You didn't m ent ion your nam e, by- t he- bye.” Joe m ent ioned it now, and t he st range m an called him by it . “ What 'll you drink, Mr. Gargery? At m y expense? To t op up wit h?” “ Well,” said Joe, “ t o t ell you t he t rut h, I ain't m uch in t he habit of drinking at anybody's expense but m y own.” “ Habit ? No,” ret urned t he st ranger, “ but once and away, and on a Sat urday night t oo. Com e! Put a nam e t o it , Mr. Gargery.” “ I wouldn't wish t o be st iff com pany,” said Joe. “ Rum .” “ Rum ,” repeat ed t he st ranger. “ And will t he ot her gent lem an originat e a sent im ent .” 104
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Rum ,” said Mr. Wopsle. “ Three Rum s! ” cried t he st ranger, calling t o t he landlord. “ Glasses round! ” “ This ot her gent lem an,” observed Joe, by way of int roducing Mr. Wopsle, “ is a gent lem an t hat you would like t o hear give it out . Our clerk at church.” “ Aha! ” said t he st ranger, quickly, and cocking his eye at m e. “ The lonely church, right out on t he m arshes, wit h graves round it ! ” “ That 's it ,” said Joe. The st ranger, wit h a com fort able kind of grunt over his pipe, put his legs up on t he set t le t hat he had t o him self. He wore a flapping broad- brim m ed t raveller's hat , and under it a handkerchief t ied over his head in t he m anner of a cap: so t hat he showed no hair. As he looked at t he fire, I t hought I saw a cunning expression, followed by a half- laugh, com e int o his face. “ I am not acquaint ed wit h t his count ry, gent lem en, but it seem s a solit ary count ry t owards t he river.” “ Most m arshes is solit ary,” said Joe. “ No doubt , no doubt . Do you find any gipsies, now, or t ram ps, or vagrant s of any sort , out t here?” “ No,” said Joe; “ none but a runaway convict now and t hen. And we don't find t hem , easy. Eh, Mr. Wopsle?” Mr. Wopsle, wit h a m aj est ic rem em brance of old discom fit ure, assent ed; but not warm ly. “ Seem s you have been out aft er such?” asked t he st ranger. 105
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Once,” ret urned Joe. “ Not t hat we want ed t o t ake t hem , you underst and; we went out as lookers on; m e, and Mr. Wopsle, and Pip. Didn't us, Pip?” “ Yes, Joe.” The st ranger looked at m e again—st ill cocking his eye, as if he were expressly t aking aim at m e wit h his invisible gun— and said, “ He's a likely young parcel of bones t hat . What is it you call him ?” “ Pip,” said Joe. “ Christ ened Pip?” “ No, not christ ened Pip.” “ Surnam e Pip?” “ No,” said Joe, “ it 's a kind of fam ily nam e what he gave him self when a infant , and is called by.” “ Son of yours?” “ Well,” said Joe, m edit at ively—not , of course, t hat it could be in anywise necessary t o consider about it , but because it was t he way at t he Jolly Bargem en t o seem t o consider deeply about everyt hing t hat was discussed over pipes; “ well—no. No, he ain't .” “ Nevvy?” said t he st range m an. “ Well,” said Joe, wit h t he sam e appearance of profound cogit at ion, “ he is not —no, not t o deceive you, he is not —m y nevvy.” “ What t he Blue Blazes is he?” asked t he st ranger. Which appeared t o m e t o be an inquiry of unnecessary st rengt h. Mr. Wopsle st ruck in upon t hat ; as one who knew all about relat ionships, having professional occasion t o bear in m ind what fem ale relat ions a m an m ight not m arry; and 106
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
expounded t he t ies bet ween m e and Joe. Having his hand in, Mr. Wopsle finished off wit h a m ost t errifically snarling passage from Richard t he Third, and seem ed t o t hink he had done quit e enough t o account for it when he added,—" as t he poet says.” And here I m ay rem ark t hat when Mr. Wopsle referred t o m e, he considered it a necessary part of such reference t o rum ple m y hair and poke it int o m y eyes. I cannot conceive why everybody of his st anding who visit ed at our house should always have put m e t hrough t he sam e inflam m at ory process under sim ilar circum st ances. Yet I do not call t o m ind t hat I was ever in m y earlier yout h t he subj ect of rem ark in our social fam ily circle, but som e large- handed person t ook som e such opht halm ic st eps t o pat ronize m e. All t his while, t he st range m an looked at nobody but m e, and looked at m e as if he were det erm ined t o have a shot at m e at last , and bring m e down. But he said not hing aft er offering his Blue Blazes observat ion, unt il t he glasses of rum and- wat er were brought ; and t hen he m ade his shot , and a m ost ext raordinary shot it was. I t was not a verbal rem ark, but a proceeding in dum p show, and was point edly addressed t o m e. He st irred his rum and- wat er point edly at m e, and he t ast ed his rum - and- wat er point edly at m e. And he st irred it and he t ast ed it : not wit h a spoon t hat was brought t o him , but wit h a file. He did t his so t hat nobody but I saw t he file; and when he had done it he wiped t he file and put it in a breast - pocket . I knew it t o be Joe's file, and I knew t hat he knew m y convict , t he m om ent I saw t he inst rum ent . I sat gazing at him , spell107
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
bound. But he now reclined on his set t le, t aking very lit t le not ice of m e, and t alking principally about t urnips. There was a delicious sense of cleaning- up and m aking a quiet pause before going on in life afresh, in our village on Sat urday night s, which st im ulat ed Joe t o dare t o st ay out half an hour longer on Sat urdays t han at ot her t im es. The half hour and t he rum - and- wat er running out t oget her, Joe got up t o go, and t ook m e by t he hand. “ St op half a m om ent , Mr. Gargery,” said t he st range m an. “ I t hink I 've got a bright new shilling som ewhere in m y pocket , and if I have, t he boy shall have it .” He looked it out from a handful of sm all change, folded it in som e crum pled paper, and gave it t o m e. “ Yours! ” said he. “ Mind! Your own.” I t hanked him , st aring at him far beyond t he bounds of good m anners, and holding t ight t o Joe. He gave Joe goodnight , and he gave Mr. Wopsle good- night ( who went out wit h us) , and he gave m e only a look wit h his aim ing eye—no, not a look, for he shut it up, but wonders m ay be done wit h an eye by hiding it . On t he way hom e, if I had been in a hum our for t alking, t he t alk m ust have been all on m y side, for Mr. Wopsle part ed from us at t he door of t he Jolly Bargem en, and Joe went all t he way hom e wit h his m out h wide open, t o rinse t he rum out wit h as m uch air as possible. But I was in a m anner st upefied by t his t urning up of m y old m isdeed and old acquaint ance, and could t hink of not hing else. My sist er was not in a very bad t em per when we present ed ourselves in t he kit chen, and Joe was encouraged by t hat 108
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
unusual circum st ance t o t ell her about t he bright shilling. “ A bad un, I 'll be bound,” said Mrs. Joe t rium phant ly, “ or he wouldn't have given it t o t he boy! Let 's look at it .” I t ook it out of t he paper, and it proved t o be a good one. “ But what 's t his?” said Mrs. Joe, t hrowing down t he shilling and cat ching up t he paper. “ Two One- Pound not es?” Not hing less t han t wo fat swelt ering one- pound not es t hat seem ed t o have been on t erm s of t he warm est int im acy wit h all t he cat t le m arket s in t he count y. Joe caught up his hat again, and ran wit h t hem t o t he Jolly Bargem en t o rest ore t hem t o t heir owner. While he was gone, I sat down on m y usual st ool and looked vacant ly at m y sist er, feeling pret t y sure t hat t he m an would not be t here. Present ly, Joe cam e back, saying t hat t he m an was gone, but t hat he, Joe, had left word at t he Three Jolly Bargem en concerning t he not es. Then m y sist er sealed t hem up in a piece of paper, and put t hem under som e dried rose- leaves in an ornam ent al t ea- pot on t he t op of a press in t he st at e parlour. There t hey rem ained, a night m are t o m e, m any and m any a night and day. I had sadly broken sleep when I got t o bed, t hrough t hinking of t he st range m an t aking aim at m e wit h his invisible gun, and of t he guilt ily coarse and com m on t hing it was, t o be on secret t erm s of conspiracy wit h convict s—a feat ure in m y low career t hat I had previously forgot t en. I was haunt ed by t he file t oo. A dread possessed m e t hat when I least expect ed it , t he file would reappear. I coaxed m yself t o sleep by t hinking of Miss Havisham 's, next Wednesday; and in m y sleep I saw t he file com ing at m e out of a door, wit hout 109
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
seeing who held it , and I scream ed m yself awake.
110
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 11 At t he appoint ed t im e I ret urned t o Miss Havisham 's, and m y hesit at ing ring at t he gat e brought out Est ella. She locked it aft er adm it t ing m e, as she had done before, and again preceded m e int o t he dark passage where her candle st ood. She t ook no not ice of m e unt il she had t he candle in her hand, when she looked over her shoulder, superciliously saying, “ You are t o com e t his way t oday,” and t ook m e t o quit e anot her part of t he house. The passage was a long one, and seem ed t o pervade t he whole square basem ent of t he Manor House. We t raversed but one side of t he square, however, and at t he end of it she st opped, and put her candle down and opened a door. Here, t he daylight reappeared, and I found m yself in a sm all paved court - yard, t he opposit e side of which was form ed by a det ached dwelling- house, t hat looked as if it had once belonged t o t he m anager or head clerk of t he ext inct brewery. There was a clock in t he out er wall of t his house. Like t he clock in Miss Havisham 's room , and like Miss Havisham 's wat ch, it had st opped at t went y m inut es t o nine. We went in at t he door, which st ood open, and int o a gloom y room wit h a low ceiling, on t he ground floor at t he back. There was som e com pany in t he room , and Est ella said t o m e as she j oined it , “ You are t o go and st and t here, boy, t ill you are want ed.” “ There" , being t he window, I crossed t o it , and st ood “ t here,” in a very uncom fort able st at e of m ind, looking out . 111
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t opened t o t he ground, and looked int o a m ost m iserable corner of t he neglect ed garden, upon a rank ruin of cabbagest alks, and one box t ree t hat had been clipped round long ago, like a pudding, and had a new growt h at t he t op of it , out of shape and of a different colour, as if t hat part of t he pudding had st uck t o t he saucepan and got burnt . This was m y hom ely t hought , as I cont em plat ed t he box- t ree. There had been som e light snow, overnight , and it lay nowhere else t o m y knowledge; but , it had not quit e m elt ed from t he cold shadow of t his bit of garden, and t he wind caught it up in lit t le eddies and t hrew it at t he window, as if it pelt ed m e for com ing t here. I divined t hat m y com ing had st opped conversat ion in t he room , and t hat it s ot her occupant s were looking at m e. I could see not hing of t he room except t he shining of t he fire in t he window glass, but I st iffened in all m y j oint s wit h t he consciousness t hat I was under close inspect ion. There were t hree ladies in t he room and one gent lem an. Before I had been st anding at t he window five m inut es, t hey som ehow conveyed t o m e t hat t hey were all t oadies and hum bugs, but t hat each of t hem pret ended not t o know t hat t he ot hers were t oadies and hum bugs: because t he adm ission t hat he or she did know it , would have m ade him or her out t o be a t oady and hum bug. They all had a list less and dreary air of wait ing som ebody's pleasure, and t he m ost t alkat ive of t he ladies had t o speak quit e rigidly t o repress a yawn. This lady, whose nam e was Cam illa, very m uch rem inded m e of m y sist er, wit h t he difference t hat she was older, and ( as I found when I caught 112
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
sight of her) of a blunt er cast of feat ures. I ndeed, when I knew her bet t er I began t o t hink it was a Mercy she had any feat ures at all, so very blank and high was t he dead wall of her face. “ Poor dear soul! ” said t his lady, wit h an abrupt ness of m anner quit e m y sist er's. “ Nobody's enem y but his own! ” “ I t would be m uch m ore com m endable t o be som ebody else's enem y,” said t he gent lem an; “ far m ore nat ural.” “ Cousin Raym ond,” observed anot her lady, “ we are t o love our neighbour.” “ Sarah Pocket ,” ret urned Cousin Raym ond, “ if a m an is not his own neighbour, who is?” Miss Pocket laughed, and Cam illa laughed and said ( checking a yawn) , “ The idea! ” But I t hought t hey seem ed t o t hink it rat her a good idea t oo. The ot her lady, who had not spoken yet , said gravely and em phat ically, “ Very t rue! ” “ Poor soul! ” Cam illa present ly went on ( I knew t hey had all been looking at m e in t he m ean t im e) , “ he is so very st range! Would anyone believe t hat when Tom 's wife died, he act ually could not be induced t o see t he im port ance of t he children's having t he deepest of t rim m ings t o t heir m ourning? ‘Good Lord! ’ says he, ‘Cam illa, what can it signify so long as t he poor bereaved lit t le t hings are in black?’ So like Mat t hew! The idea! ” “ Good point s in him , good point s in him ,” said Cousin Raym ond; “ Heaven forbid I should deny good point s in him ; but he never had, and he never will have, any sense of t he propriet ies.” 113
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You know I was obliged,” said Cam illa, “ I was obliged t o be firm . I said, ‘I t WI LL NOT DO, for t he credit of t he fam ily.’ I t old him t hat , wit hout deep t rim m ings, t he fam ily was disgraced. I cried about it from breakfast t ill dinner. I inj ured m y digest ion. And at last he flung out in his violent way, and said, wit h a D, ‘Then do as you like.’ Thank Goodness it will always be a consolat ion t o m e t o know t hat I inst ant ly went out in a pouring rain and bought t he t hings.” “ He paid for t hem , did he not ?” asked Est ella. “ I t 's not t he quest ion, m y dear child, who paid for t hem ,” ret urned Cam illa. “ I bought t hem . And I shall oft en t hink of t hat wit h peace, when I wake up in t he night .” The ringing of a dist ant bell, com bined wit h t he echoing of som e cry or call along t he passage by which I had com e, int errupt ed t he conversat ion and caused Est ella t o say t o m e, “ Now, boy! ” On m y t urning round, t hey all looked at m e wit h t he ut m ost cont em pt , and, as I went out , I heard Sarah Pocket say, “ Well I am sure! What next ! ” and Cam illa add, wit h indignat ion, “ Was t here ever such a fancy! The i- de- a! ” As we were going wit h our candle along t he dark passage, Est ella st opped all of a sudden, and, facing round, said in her t aunt ing m anner wit h her face quit e close t o m ine: “ Well?” “ Well, m iss?” I answered, alm ost falling over her and checking m yself. She st ood looking at m e, and, of course, I st ood looking at her. “ Am I pret t y?” “ Yes; I t hink you are very pret t y.” 114
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Am I insult ing?” “ Not so m uch so as you were last t im e,” said I . “ Not so m uch so?” “ No.” She fired when she asked t he last quest ion, and she slapped m y face wit h such force as she had, when I answered it . “ Now?” said she. “ You lit t le coarse m onst er, what do you t hink of m e now?” “ I shall not t ell you.” “ Because you are going t o t ell, up- st airs. I s t hat it ?” “ No,” said I , “ t hat 's not it .” “ Why don't you cry again, you lit t le wret ch?” “ Because I 'll never cry for you again,” said I . Which was, I suppose, as false a declarat ion as ever was m ade; for I was inwardly crying for her t hen, and I know what I know of t he pain she cost m e aft erwards. We went on our way up- st airs aft er t his episode; and, as we were going up, we m et a gent lem an groping his way down. “ Whom have we here?” asked t he gent lem an, st opping and looking at m e. “ A boy,” said Est ella. He was a burly m an of an exceedingly dark com plexion, wit h an exceedingly large head and a corresponding large hand. He t ook m y chin in his large hand and t urned up m y face t o have a look at m e by t he light of t he candle. He was prem at urely bald on t he t op of his head, and had bushy black eyebrows t hat wouldn't lie down but st ood up brist ling. His 115
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
eyes were set very deep in his head, and were disagreeably sharp and suspicious. He had a large wat chchain, and st rong black dot s where his beard and whiskers would have been if he had let t hem . He was not hing t o m e, and I could have had no foresight t hen, t hat he ever would be anyt hing t o m e, but it happened t hat I had t his opport unit y of observing him well. “ Boy of t he neighbourhood? Hey?” said he. “ Yes, sir,” said I . “ How do you com e here?” “ Miss Havisham sent for m e, sir,” I explained. “ Well! Behave yourself. I have a pret t y large experience of boys, and you're a bad set of fellows. Now m ind! ” said he, bit ing t he side of his great forefinger as he frowned at m e, “ you behave yourself! ” Wit h t hose words, he released m e—which I was glad of, for his hand sm elt of scent ed soap—and went his way downst airs. I wondered whet her he could be a doct or; but no, I t hought ; he couldn't be a doct or, or he would have a quiet er and m ore persuasive m anner. There was not m uch t im e t o consider t he subj ect , for we were soon in Miss Havisham 's room , where she and everyt hing else were j ust as I had left t hem . Est ella left m e st anding near t he door, and I st ood t here unt il Miss Havisham cast her eyes upon m e from t he dressing- t able. “ So! ” she said, wit hout being st art led or surprised; “ t he days have worn away, have t hey?” “ Yes, m a'am . To- day is—” “ There, t here, t here! ” wit h t he im pat ient m ovem ent of her fingers. “ I don't want t o know. Are you ready t o play?” 116
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I was obliged t o answer in som e confusion, “ I don't t hink I am , m a'am .” “ Not at cards again?” she dem anded, wit h a searching look. “ Yes, m a'am ; I could do t hat , if I was want ed.” “ Since t his house st rikes you old and grave, boy,” said Miss Havisham , im pat ient ly, “ and you are unwilling t o play, are you willing t o work?” I could answer t his inquiry wit h a bet t er heart t han I had been able t o find for t he ot her quest ion, and I said I was quit e willing. “ Then go int o t hat opposit e room ,” said she, point ing at t he door behind m e wit h her wit hered hand, “ and wait t here t ill I com e.” I crossed t he st aircase landing, and ent ered t he room she indicat ed. From t hat room , t oo, t he daylight was com plet ely excluded, and it had an airless sm ell t hat was oppressive. A fire had been lat ely kindled in t he dam p old- fashioned grat e, and it was m ore disposed t o go out t han t o burn up, and t he reluct ant sm oke which hung in t he room seem ed colder t han t he clearer air—like our own m arsh m ist . Cert ain wint ry branches of candles on t he high chim neypiece faint ly light ed t he cham ber: or, it would be m ore expressive t o say, faint ly t roubled it s darkness. I t was spacious, and I dare say had once been handsom e, but every discernible t hing in it was covered wit h dust and m ould, and dropping t o pieces. The m ost prom inent obj ect was a long t able wit h a t ableclot h spread on it , as if a feast had been in preparat ion when t he house and t he clocks all st opped t oget her. An epergne or 117
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
cent repiece of som e kind was in t he m iddle of t his clot h; it was so heavily overhung wit h cobwebs t hat it s form was quit e undist inguishable; and, as I looked along t he yellow expanse out of which I rem em ber it s seem ing t o grow, like a black fungus, I saw speckled- legged spiders wit h blot chy bodies running hom e t o it , and running out from it , as if som e circum st ances of t he great est public im port ance had j ust t ranspired in t he spider com m unit y. I heard t he m ice t oo, rat t ling behind t he panels, as if t he sam e occurrence were im port ant t o t heir int erest s. But , t he blackbeet les t ook no not ice of t he agit at ion, and groped about t he heart h in a ponderous elderly way, as if t hey were short sight ed and hard of hearing, and not on t erm s wit h one anot her. These crawling t hings had fascinat ed m y at t ent ion and I was wat ching t hem from a dist ance, when Miss Havisham laid a hand upon m y shoulder. I n her ot her hand she had a crut ch- headed st ick on which she leaned, and she looked like t he Wit ch of t he place. “ This,” said she, point ing t o t he long t able wit h her st ick, “ is where I will be laid when I am dead. They shall com e and look at m e here.” Wit h som e vague m isgiving t hat she m ight get upon t he t able t hen and t here and die at once, t he com plet e realizat ion of t he ghast ly waxwork at t he Fair, I shrank under her t ouch. “ What do you t hink t hat is?” she asked m e, again point ing wit h her st ick; “ t hat , where t hose cobwebs are?” “ I can't guess what it is, m a'am .” “ I t 's a great cake. A bride- cake. Mine! ” 118
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
She looked all round t he room in a glaring m anner, and t hen said, leaning on m e while her hand t wit ched m y shoulder, “ Com e, com e, com e! Walk m e, walk m e! ” I m ade out from t his, t hat t he work I had t o do, was t o walk Miss Havisham round and round t he room . Accordingly, I st art ed at once, and she leaned upon m y shoulder, and we went away at a pace t hat m ight have been an im it at ion ( founded on m y first im pulse under t hat roof) of Mr. Pum blechook's chaise- cart . She was not physically st rong, and aft er a lit t le t im e said, “ Slower! ” St ill, we went at an im pat ient fit ful speed, and as we went , she t wit ched t he hand upon m y shoulder, and worked her m out h, and led m e t o believe t hat we were going fast because her t hought s went fast . Aft er a while she said, “ Call Est ella! ” so I went out on t he landing and roared t hat nam e as I had done on t he previous occasion. When her light appeared, I ret urned t o Miss Havisham , and we st art ed away again round and round t he room . I f only Est ella had com e t o be a spect at or of our proceedings, I should have felt sufficient ly discont ent ed; but , as she brought wit h her t he t hree ladies and t he gent lem an whom I had seen below, I didn't know what t o do. I n m y polit eness, I would have st opped; but , Miss Havisham t wit ched m y shoulder, and we post ed on—wit h a sham e- faced consciousness on m y part t hat t hey would t hink it was all m y doing. “ Dear Miss Havisham ,” said Miss Sarah Pocket . “ How well you look! ” 119
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I do not ,” ret urned Miss Havisham . “ I am yellow skin and bone.” Cam illa bright ened when Miss Pocket m et wit h t his rebuff; and she m urm ured, as she plaint ively cont em plat ed Miss Havisham , “ Poor dear soul! Cert ainly not t o be expect ed t o look well, poor t hing. The idea! ” “ And how are you?” said Miss Havisham t o Cam illa. As we were close t o Cam illa t hen, I would have st opped as a m at t er of course, only Miss Havisham wouldn't st op. We swept on, and I felt t hat I was highly obnoxious t o Cam illa. “ Thank you, Miss Havisham ,” she ret urned, “ I am as well as can be expect ed.” “ Why, what 's t he m at t er wit h you?” asked Miss Havisham , wit h exceeding sharpness. “ Not hing wort h m ent ioning,” replied Cam illa. “ I don't wish t o m ake a display of m y feelings, but I have habit ually t hought of you m ore in t he night t han I am quit e equal t o.” “ Then don't t hink of m e,” ret ort ed Miss Havisham . “ Very easily said! ” rem arked Cam illa, am iably repressing a sob, while a hit ch cam e int o her upper lip, and her t ears overflowed. “ Raym ond is a wit ness what ginger and sal volat ile I am obliged t o t ake in t he night . Raym ond is a wit ness what nervous j erkings I have in m y legs. Chokings and nervous j erkings, however, are not hing new t o m e when I t hink wit h anxiet y of t hose I love. I f I could be less affect ionat e and sensit ive, I should have a bet t er digest ion and an iron set of nerves. I am sure I wish it could be so. But as t o not t hinking of you in t he night —The idea! ” Here, a burst of t ears. 120
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The Raym ond referred t o, I underst ood t o be t he gent lem an present , and him I underst ood t o be Mr. Cam illa. He cam e t o t he rescue at t his point , and said in a consolat ory and com plim ent ary voice, “ Cam illa, m y dear, it is well known t hat your fam ily feelings are gradually underm ining you t o t he ext ent of m aking one of your legs short er t han t he ot her.” “ I am not aware,” observed t he grave lady whose voice I had heard but once, “ t hat t o t hink of any person is t o m ake a great claim upon t hat person, m y dear.” Miss Sarah Pocket , whom I now saw t o be a lit t le dry brown corrugat ed old wom an, wit h a sm all face t hat m ight have been m ade of walnut shells, and a large m out h like a cat 's wit hout t he whiskers, support ed t his posit ion by saying, “ No, indeed, m y dear. Hem ! ” “ Thinking is easy enough,” said t he grave lady. “ What is easier, you know?” assent ed Miss Sarah Pocket . “ Oh, yes, yes! ” cried Cam illa, whose ferm ent ing feelings appeared t o rise from her legs t o her bosom . “ I t 's all very t rue! I t 's a weakness t o be so affect ionat e, but I can't help it . No doubt m y healt h would be m uch bet t er if it was ot herwise, st ill I wouldn't change m y disposit ion if I could. I t 's t he cause of m uch suffering, but it 's a consolat ion t o know I posses it , when I wake up in t he night .” Here anot her burst of feeling. Miss Havisham and I had never st opped all t his t im e, but kept going round and round t he room : now, brushing against t he skirt s of t he visit ors: now, giving t hem t he whole lengt h of t he dism al cham ber. “ There's Mat t hew! ” said Cam illa. “ Never m ixing wit h any nat ural t ies, never com ing here t o see how Miss Havisham is! 121
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I have t aken t o t he sofa wit h m y st aylace cut , and have lain t here hours, insensible, wit h m y head over t he side, and m y hair all down, and m y feet I don't know where—” ( " Much higher t han your head, m y love,” said Mr. Cam illa.) “ I have gone off int o t hat st at e, hours and hours, on account of Mat t hew's st range and inexplicable conduct , and nobody has t hanked m e.” “ Really I m ust say I should t hink not ! ” int erposed t he grave lady. “ You see, m y dear,” added Miss Sarah Pocket ( a blandly vicious personage) , “ t he quest ion t o put t o yourself is, who did you expect t o t hank you, m y love?” “ Wit hout expect ing any t hanks, or anyt hing of t he sort ,” resum ed Cam illa, “ I have rem ained in t hat st at e, hours and hours, and Raym ond is a wit ness of t he ext ent t o which I have choked, and what t he t ot al inefficacy of ginger has been, and I have been heard at t he pianofort e- t uner's across t he st reet , where t he poor m ist aken children have even supposed it t o be pigeons cooing at a dist ance- and now t o be t old—.” Here Cam illa put her hand t o her t hroat , and began t o be quit e chem ical as t o t he form at ion of new com binat ions t here. When t his sam e Mat t hew was m ent ioned, Miss Havisham st opped m e and herself, and st ood looking at t he speaker. This change had a great influence in bringing Cam illa's chem ist ry t o a sudden end. “ Mat t hew will com e and see m e at last ,” said Miss Havisham , st ernly, when I am laid on t hat t able. That will be his place—t here,” st riking t he t able wit h her st ick, “ at m y head! And yours will be t here! And your husband's t here! And 122
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Sarah Pocket 's t here! And Georgiana's t here! Now you all know where t o t ake your st at ions when you com e t o feast upon m e. And now go! ” At t he m ent ion of each nam e, she had st ruck t he t able wit h her st ick in a new place. She now said, “ Walk m e, walk m e! ” and we went on again. “ I suppose t here's not hing t o be done,” exclaim ed Cam illa, “ but com ply and depart . I t 's som et hing t o have seen t he obj ect of one's love and dut y, for even so short a t im e. I shall t hink of it wit h a m elancholy sat isfact ion when I wake up in t he night . I wish Mat t hew could have t hat com fort , but he set s it at defiance. I am det erm ined not t o m ake a display of m y feelings, but it 's very hard t o be t old one want s t o feast on one's relat ions—as if one was a Giant —and t o be t old t o go. The bare idea! ” Mr. Cam illa int erposing, as Mrs. Cam illa laid her hand upon her heaving bosom , t hat lady assum ed an unnat ural fort it ude of m anner which I supposed t o be expressive of an int ent ion t o drop and choke when out of view, and kissing her hand t o Miss Havisham , was escort ed fort h. Sarah Pocket and Georgiana cont ended who should rem ain last ; but , Sarah was t oo knowing t o be out done, and am bled round Georgiana wit h t hat art ful slipperiness, t hat t he lat t er was obliged t o t ake precedence. Sarah Pocket t hen m ade her separat e effect of depart ing wit h “ Bless you, Miss Havisham dear! ” and wit h a sm ile of forgiving pit y on her walnut - shell count enance for t he weaknesses of t he rest . While Est ella was away light ing t hem down, Miss Havisham st ill walked wit h her hand on m y shoulder, but m ore and 123
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m ore slowly. At last she st opped before t he fire, and said, aft er m ut t ering and looking at it som e seconds: “ This is m y birt hday, Pip.” I was going t o wish her m any happy ret urns, when she lift ed her st ick. “ I don't suffer it t o be spoken of. I don't suffer t hose who were here j ust now, or any one, t o speak of it . They com e here on t he day, but t hey dare not refer t o it .” Of course I m ade no furt her effort t o refer t o it . “ On t his day of t he year, long before you were born, t his heap of decay,” st abbing wit h her crut ched st ick at t he pile of cobwebs on t he t able but not t ouching it , “ was brought here. I t and I have worn away t oget her. The m ice have gnawed at it , and sharper t eet h t han t eet h of m ice have gnawed at m e.” She held t he head of her st ick against her heart as she st ood looking at t he t able; she in her once whit e dress, all yellow and wit hered; t he once whit e clot h all yellow and wit hered; everyt hing around, in a st at e t o crum ble under a t ouch. “ When t he ruin is com plet e,” said she, wit h a ghast ly look, “ and when t hey lay m e dead, in m y bride's dress on t he bride's t able—which shall be done, and which will be t he finished curse upon him —so m uch t he bet t er if it is done on t his day! ” She st ood looking at t he t able as if she st ood looking at her own figure lying t here. I rem ained quiet . Est ella ret urned, and she t oo rem ained quiet . I t seem ed t o m e t hat we cont inued t hus for a long t im e. I n t he heavy air of t he room , and t he heavy darkness t hat brooded in it s rem ot er corners, I 124
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
even had an alarm ing fancy t hat Est ella and I m ight present ly begin t o decay. At lengt h, not com ing out of her dist raught st at e by degrees, but in an inst ant , Miss Havisham said, “ Let m e see you t wo play cards; why have you not begun?” Wit h t hat , we ret urned t o her room , and sat down as before; I was beggared, as before; and again, as before, Miss Havisham wat ched us all t he t im e, direct ed m y at t ent ion t o Est ella's beaut y, and m ade m e not ice it t he m ore by t rying her j ewels on Est ella's breast and hair. Est ella, for her part , likewise t reat ed m e as before; except t hat she did not condescend t o speak. When we had played som e halfdozen gam es, a day was appoint ed for m y ret urn, and I was t aken down int o t he yard t o be fed in t he form er dog- like m anner. There, t oo, I was again left t o wander about as I liked. I t is not m uch t o t he purpose whet her a gat e in t hat garden wall which I had scram bled up t o peep over on t he last occasion was, on t hat last occasion, open or shut . Enough t hat I saw no gat e t hen, and t hat I saw one now. As it st ood open, and as I knew t hat Est ella had let t he visit ors out —for, she had ret urned wit h t he keys in her hand—I st rolled int o t he garden and st rolled all over it . I t was quit e a wilderness, and t here were old m elon- fram es and cucum ber- fram es in it , which seem ed in t heir decline t o have produced a spont aneous growt h of weak at t em pt s at pieces of old hat s and boot s, wit h now and t hen a weedy offshoot int o t he likeness of a bat t ered saucepan. 125
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
When I had exhaust ed t he garden, and a greenhouse wit h not hing in it but a fallen- down grape- vine and som e bot t les, I found m yself in t he dism al corner upon which I had looked out of t he window. Never quest ioning for a m om ent t hat t he house was now em pt y, I looked in at anot her window, and found m yself, t o m y great surprise, exchanging a broad st are wit h a pale young gent lem an wit h red eyelids and light hair. This pale young gent lem an quickly disappeared, and reappeared beside m e. He had been at his books when I had found m yself st aring at him , and I now saw t hat he was inky. “ Halloa! ” said he, “ young fellow! ” Halloa being a general observat ion which I had usually observed t o be best answered by it self, I said, “ Halloa! ” polit ely om it t ing young fellow. “ Who let you in?” said he. “ Miss Est ella.” “ Who gave you leave t o prowl about ?” “ Miss Est ella.” “ Com e and fight ,” said t he pale young gent lem an. What could I do but follow him ? I have oft en asked m yself t he quest ion since: but , what else could I do? His m anner was so final and I was so ast onished, t hat I followed where he led, as if I had been under a spell. “ St op a m inut e, t hough,” he said, wheeling round before we had gone m any paces. “ I ought t o give you a reason for fight ing, t oo. There it is! ” I n a m ost irrit at ing m anner he inst ant ly slapped his hands against one anot her, daint ily flung one of his legs up behind him , pulled m y hair, slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and but t ed it int o m y st om ach. 126
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The bull- like proceeding last m ent ioned, besides t hat it was unquest ionably t o be regarded in t he light of a libert y, was part icularly disagreeable j ust aft er bread and m eat . I t herefore hit out at him and was going t o hit out again, when he said, “ Aha! Would you?” and began dancing backwards and forwards in a m anner quit e unparalleled wit hin m y lim it ed experience. “ Laws of t he gam e! ” said he. Here, he skipped from his left leg on t o his right . “ Regular rules! ” Here, he skipped from his right leg on t o his left . “ Com e t o t he ground, and go t hrough t he prelim inaries! ” Here, he dodged backwards and forwards, and did all sort s of t hings while I looked helplessly at him . I was secret ly afraid of him when I saw him so dext erous; but , I felt m orally and physically convinced t hat his light head of hair could have had no business in t he pit of m y st om ach, and t hat I had a right t o consider it irrelevant when so obt ruded on m y at t ent ion. Therefore, I followed him wit hout a word, t o a ret ired nook of t he garden, form ed by t he j unct ion of t wo walls and screened by som e rubbish. On his asking m e if I was sat isfied wit h t he ground, and on m y replying Yes, he begged m y leave t o absent him self for a m om ent , and quickly ret urned wit h a bot t le of wat er and a sponge dipped in vinegar. “ Available for bot h,” he said, placing t hese against t he wall. And t hen fell t o pulling off, not only his j acket and waist coat , but his shirt t oo, in a m anner at once light heart ed, businesslike, and bloodt hirst y. Alt hough he did not look very healt hy—having pim ples on his face, and a breaking out at his m out h—t hese dreadful preparat ions quit e appalled m e. I j udged him t o be about m y 127
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
own age, but he was m uch t aller, and he had a way of spinning him self about t hat was full of appearance. For t he rest , he was a young gent lem an in a grey suit ( when not denuded for bat t le) , wit h his elbows, knees, wrist s, and heels, considerably in advance of t he rest of him as t o developm ent . My heart failed m e when I saw him squaring at m e wit h every dem onst rat ion of m echanical nicet y, and eyeing m y anat om y as if he were m inut ely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in m y life, as I was when I let out t he first blow, and saw him lying on his back, looking up at m e wit h a bloody nose and his face exceedingly fore- short ened. But , he was on his feet direct ly, and aft er sponging him self wit h a great show of dext erit y began squaring again. The second great est surprise I have ever had in m y life was seeing him on his back again, looking up at m e out of a black eye. His spirit inspired m e wit h great respect . He seem ed t o have no st rengt h, and he never once hit m e hard, and he was always knocked down; but , he would be up again in a m om ent , sponging him self or drinking out of t he wat er- bot t le, wit h t he great est sat isfact ion in seconding him self according t o form , and t hen cam e at m e wit h an air and a show t hat m ade m e believe he really was going t o do for m e at last . He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry t o record t hat t he m ore I hit him , t he harder I hit him ; but , he cam e up again and again and again, unt il at last he got a bad fall wit h t he back of his head against t he wall. Even aft er t hat crisis in our affairs, he got up and t urned round and round confusedly a few t im es, not knowing where I was; but finally went on his knees 128
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o his sponge and t hrew it up: at t he sam e t im e pant ing out , “ That m eans you have won.” He seem ed so brave and innocent , t hat alt hough I had not proposed t he cont est I felt but a gloom y sat isfact ion in m y vict ory. I ndeed, I go so far as t o hope t hat I regarded m yself while dressing, as a species of savage young wolf, or ot her wild beast . However, I got dressed, darkly wiping m y sanguinary face at int ervals, and I said, “ Can I help you?” and he said “ No t hankee,” and I said “ Good aft ernoon,” and he said “ Sam e t o you.” When I got int o t he court - yard, I found Est ella wait ing wit h t he keys. But , she neit her asked m e where I had been, nor why I had kept her wait ing; and t here was a bright flush upon her face, as t hough som et hing had happened t o delight her. I nst ead of going st raight t o t he gat e, t oo, she st epped back int o t he passage, and beckoned m e. “ Com e here! You m ay kiss m e, if you like.” I kissed her cheek as she t urned it t o m e. I t hink I would have gone t hrough a great deal t o kiss her cheek. But , I felt t hat t he kiss was given t o t he coarse com m on boy as a piece of m oney m ight have been, and t hat it was wort h not hing. What wit h t he birt hday visit ors, and what wit h t he cards, and what wit h t he fight , m y st ay had last ed so long, t hat when I neared hom e t he light on t he spit of sand off t he point on t he m arshes was gleam ing against a black night - sky, and Joe's furnace was flinging a pat h of fire across t he road.
129
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 12 My m ind grew very uneasy on t he subj ect of t he pale young gent lem an. The m ore I t hought of t he fight , and recalled t he pale young gent lem an on his back in various st ages of puffy and incrim soned count enance, t he m ore cert ain it appeared t hat som et hing would be done t o m e. I felt t hat t he pale young gent lem an's blood was on m y head, and t hat t he Law would avenge it . Wit hout having any definit e idea of t he penalt ies I had incurred, it was clear t o m e t hat village boys could not go st alking about t he count ry, ravaging t he houses of gent lefolks and pit ching int o t he st udious yout h of England, wit hout laying t hem selves open t o severe punishm ent . For som e days, I even kept close at hom e, and looked out at t he kit chen door wit h t he great est caut ion and t repidat ion before going on an errand, lest t he officers of t he Count y Jail should pounce upon m e. The pale young gent lem an's nose had st ained m y t rousers, and I t ried t o wash out t hat evidence of m y guilt in t he dead of night . I had cut m y knuckles against t he pale young gent lem an's t eet h, and I t wist ed m y im aginat ion int o a t housand t angles, as I devised incredible ways of account ing for t hat dam nat ory circum st ance when I should be haled before t he Judges. When t he day cam e round for m y ret urn t o t he scene of t he deed of violence, m y t errors reached t heir height . Whet her m yrm idons of Just ice, specially sent down from London, would be lying in am bush behind t he gat e? Whet her Miss Havisham , preferring t o t ake personal vengeance for an 130
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
out rage done t o her house, m ight rise in t hose grave- clot hes of hers, draw a pist ol, and shoot m e dead? Whet her suborned boys—a num erous band of m ercenaries—m ight be engaged t o fall upon m e in t he brewery, and cuff m e unt il I was no m ore? I t was high t est im ony t o m y confidence in t he spirit of t he pale young gent lem an, t hat I never im agined him accessory t o t hese ret aliat ions; t hey always cam e int o m y m ind as t he act s of inj udicious relat ives of his, goaded on by t he st at e of his visage and an indignant sym pat hy wit h t he fam ily feat ures. However, go t o Miss Havisham 's I m ust , and go I did. And behold! not hing cam e of t he lat e st ruggle. I t was not alluded t o in any way, and no pale young gent lem an was t o be discovered on t he prem ises. I found t he sam e gat e open, and I explored t he garden, and even looked in at t he windows of t he det ached house; but , m y view was suddenly st opped by t he closed shut t ers wit hin, and all was lifeless. Only in t he corner where t he com bat had t aken place, could I det ect any evidence of t he young gent lem an's exist ence. There were t races of his gore in t hat spot , and I covered t hem wit h garden- m ould from t he eye of m an. On t he broad landing bet ween Miss Havisham 's own room and t hat ot her room in which t he long t able was laid out , I saw a garden- chair—a light chair on wheels, t hat you pushed from behind. I t had been placed t here since m y last visit , and I ent ered, t hat sam e day, on a regular occupat ion of pushing Miss Havisham in t his chair ( when she was t ired of walking wit h her hand upon m y shoulder) round her own room , and across t he landing, and round t he ot her room . Over and over 131
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and over again, we would m ake t hese j ourneys, and som et im es t hey would last as long as t hree hours at a st ret ch. I insensibly fall int o a general m ent ion of t hese j ourneys as num erous, because it was at once set t led t hat I should ret urn every alt ernat e day at noon for t hese purposes, and because I am now going t o sum up a period of at least eight or t en m ont hs. As we began t o be m ore used t o one anot her, Miss Havisham t alked m ore t o m e, and asked m e such quest ions as what had I learnt and what was I going t o be? I t old her I was going t o be apprent iced t o Joe, I believed; and I enlarged upon m y knowing not hing and want ing t o know everyt hing, in t he hope t hat she m ight offer som e help t owards t hat desirable end. But , she did not ; on t he cont rary, she seem ed t o prefer m y being ignorant . Neit her did she ever give m e any m oney—or anyt hing but m y daily dinner—nor ever st ipulat e t hat I should be paid for m y services. Est ella was always about , and always let m e in and out , but never t old m e I m ight kiss her again. Som et im es, she would coldly t olerat e m e; som et im es, she would condescend t o m e; som et im es, she would be quit e fam iliar wit h m e; som et im es, she would t ell m e energet ically t hat she hat ed m e. Miss Havisham would oft en ask m e in a whisper, or when we were alone, “ Does she grow pret t ier and pret t ier, Pip?” And when I said yes ( for indeed she did) , would seem t o enj oy it greedily. Also, when we played at cards Miss Havisham would look on, wit h a m iserly relish of Est ella's m oods, what ever t hey were. And som et im es, when her m oods were so m any and so cont radict ory of one anot her 132
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat I was puzzled what t o say or do, Miss Havisham would em brace her wit h lavish fondness, m urm uring som et hing in her ear t hat sounded like “ Break t heir heart s m y pride and hope, break t heir heart s and have no m ercy! ” There was a song Joe used t o hum fragm ent s of at t he forge, of which t he burden was Old Clem . This was not a very cerem onious way of rendering hom age t o a pat ron saint ; but , I believe Old Clem st ood in t hat relat ion t owards sm it hs. I t was a song t hat im it at ed t he m easure of beat ing upon iron, and was a m ere lyrical excuse for t he int roduct ion of Old Clem 's respect ed nam e. Thus, you were t o ham m er boys round—Old Clem ! Wit h a t hum p and a sound—Old Clem ! Beat it out , beat it out —Old Clem ! Wit h a clink for t he st out —Old Clem ! Blow t he fire, blow t he fire—Old Clem ! Roaring dryer, soaring higher—Old Clem ! One day soon aft er t he appearance of t he chair, Miss Havisham suddenly saying t o m e, wit h t he im pat ient m ovem ent of her fingers, “ There, t here, t here! Sing! ” I was surprised int o crooning t his dit t y as I pushed her over t he floor. I t happened so t o cat ch her fancy, t hat she t ook it up in a low brooding voice as if she were singing in her sleep. Aft er t hat , it becam e cust om ary wit h us t o have it as we m oved about , and Est ella would oft en j oin in; t hough t he whole st rain was so subdued, even when t here were t hree of us, t hat it m ade less noise in t he grim old house t han t he light est breat h of wind. What could I becom e wit h t hese surroundings? How could m y charact er fail t o be influenced by t hem ? I s it t o be wondered at if m y t hought s were dazed, as m y eyes were, 133
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
when I cam e out int o t he nat ural light from t he m ist y yellow room s? Perhaps, I m ight have t old Joe about t he pale young gent lem an, if I had not previously been bet rayed int o t hose enorm ous invent ions t o which I had confessed. Under t he circum st ances, I felt t hat Joe could hardly fail t o discern in t he pale young gent lem an, an appropriat e passenger t o be put int o t he black velvet coach; t herefore, I said not hing of him . Besides: t hat shrinking from having Miss Havisham and Est ella discussed, which had com e upon m e in t he beginning, grew m uch m ore pot ent as t im e went on. I reposed com plet e confidence in no one but Biddy; but , I t old poor Biddy everyt hing. Why it cam e nat ural t o m e t o do so, and why Biddy had a deep concern in everyt hing I t old her, I did not know t hen, t hough I t hink I know now. Meanwhile, councils went on in t he kit chen at hom e, fraught wit h alm ost insupport able aggravat ion t o m y exasperat ed spirit . That ass, Pum blechook, used oft en t o com e over of a night for t he purpose of discussing m y prospect s wit h m y sist er; and I really do believe ( t o t his hour wit h less penit ence t han I ought t o feel) , t hat if t hese hands could have t aken a linchpin out of his chaise- cart , t hey would have done it . The m iserable m an was a m an of t hat confined st olidit y of m ind, t hat he could not discuss m y prospect s wit hout having m e before him —as it were, t o operat e upon— and he would drag m e up from m y st ool ( usually by t he collar) where I was quiet in a corner, and, put t ing m e before t he fire as if I were going t o be cooked, would begin by saying, “ Now, Mum , here is t his boy! Here is t his boy which 134
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
you brought up by hand. Hold up your head, boy, and be for ever grat eful unt o t hem which so did do. Now, Mum , wit h respect ions t o t his boy! ” And t hen he would rum ple m y hair t he wrong way—which from m y earliest rem em brance, as already hint ed, I have in m y soul denied t he right of any fellow- creat ure t o do—and would hold m e before him by t he sleeve: a spect acle of im becilit y only t o be equalled by him self. Then, he and m y sist er would pair off in such nonsensical speculat ions about Miss Havisham , and about what she would do wit h m e and for m e, t hat I used t o want —quit e painfully— t o burst int o spit eful t ears, fly at Pum blechook, and pum m el him all over. I n t hese dialogues, m y sist er spoke t o m e as if she were m orally wrenching one of m y t eet h out at every reference; while Pum blechook him self, self- const it ut ed m y pat ron, would sit supervising m e wit h a depreciat ory eye, like t he archit ect of m y fort unes who t hought him self engaged on a very unrem unerat ive j ob. I n t hese discussions, Joe bore no part . But he was oft en t alked at , while t hey were in progress, by reason of Mrs. Joe's perceiving t hat he was not favourable t o m y being t aken from t he forge. I was fully old enough now, t o be apprent iced t o Joe; and when Joe sat wit h t he poker on his knees t hought fully raking out t he ashes bet ween t he lower bars, m y sist er would so dist inct ly const rue t hat innocent act ion int o opposit ion on his part , t hat she would dive at him , t ake t he poker out of his hands, shake him , and put it away. There was a m ost irrit at ing end t o every one of t hese debat es. All in a m om ent , wit h not hing t o lead up t o it , m y sist er would st op 135
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
herself in a yawn, and cat ching sight of m e as it were incident ally, would swoop upon m e wit h, “ Com e! t here's enough of you! You get along t o bed; you've given t rouble enough for one night , I hope! ” As if I had besought t hem as a favour t o bot her m y life out . We went on in t his way for a long t im e, and it seem ed likely t hat we should cont inue t o go on in t his way for a long t im e, when, one day, Miss Havisham st opped short as she and I were walking, she leaning on m y shoulder; and said wit h som e displeasure: “ You are growing t all, Pip! ” I t hought it best t o hint , t hrough t he m edium of a m edit at ive look, t hat t his m ight be occasioned by circum st ances over which I had no cont rol. She said no m ore at t he t im e; but , she present ly st opped and looked at m e again; and present ly again; and aft er t hat , looked frowning and m oody. On t he next day of m y at t endance when our usual exercise was over, and I had landed her at her dressingt able, she st ayed m e wit h a m ovem ent of her im pat ient fingers: “ Tell m e t he nam e again of t hat blacksm it h of yours.” “ Joe Gargery, m a'am .” “ Meaning t he m ast er you were t o be apprent iced t o?” “ Yes, Miss Havisham .” “ You had bet t er be apprent iced at once. Would Gargery com e here wit h you, and bring your indent ures, do you t hink?” I signified t hat I had no doubt he would t ake it as an honour t o be asked. 136
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Then let him com e.” “ At any part icular t im e, Miss Havisham ?” “ There, t here! I know not hing about t im es. Let him com e soon, and com e along wit h you.” When I got hom e at night , and delivered t his m essage for Joe, m y sist er “ went on t he Ram page,” in a m ore alarm ing degree t han at any previous period. She asked m e and Joe whet her we supposed she was door- m at s under our feet , and how we dared t o use her so, and what com pany we graciously t hought she was fit for? When she had exhaust ed a t orrent of such inquiries, she t hrew a candlest ick at Joe, burst int o a loud sobbing, got out t he dust pan—which was always a very bad sign—put on her coarse apron, and began cleaning up t o a t errible ext ent . Not sat isfied wit h a dry cleaning, she t ook t o a pail and scrubbing- brush, and cleaned us out of house and hom e, so t hat we st ood shivering in t he back- yard. I t was t en o'clock at night before we vent ured t o creep in again, and t hen she asked Joe why he hadn't m arried a Negress Slave at once? Joe offered no answer, poor fellow, but st ood feeling his whisker and looking dej ect edly at m e, as if he t hought it really m ight have been a bet t er speculat ion.
137
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 13 I t was a t rial t o m y feelings, on t he next day but one, t o see Joe arraying him self in his Sunday clot hes t o accom pany m e t o Miss Havisham 's. However, as he t hought his court - suit necessary t o t he occasion, it was not for m e t ell him t hat he looked far bet t er in his working dress; t he rat her, because I knew he m ade him self so dreadfully uncom fort able, ent irely on m y account , and t hat it was for m e he pulled up his shirt collar so very high behind, t hat it m ade t he hair on t he crown of his head st and up like a t uft of feat hers. At breakfast t im e m y sist er declared her int ent ion of going t o t own wit h us, and being left at Uncle Pum blechook's and called for “ when we had done wit h our fine ladies" —a way of put t ing t he case, from which Joe appeared inclined t o augur t he worst . The forge was shut up for t he day, and Joe inscribed in chalk upon t he door ( as it was his cust om t o do on t he very rare occasions when he was not at work) t he m onosyllable hout , accom panied by a sket ch of an arrow supposed t o be flying in t he direct ion he had t aken. We walked t o t own, m y sist er leading t he way in a very large beaver bonnet , and carrying a basket like t he Great Seal of England in plait ed st raw, a pair of pat t ens, a spare shawl, and an um brella, t hough it was a fine bright day. I am not quit e clear whet her t hese art icles were carried penit ent ially or ost ent at iously; but , I rat her t hink t hey were displayed as art icles of propert y—m uch as Cleopat ra or any 138
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ot her sovereign lady on t he Ram page m ight exhibit her wealt h in a pageant or procession. When we cam e t o Pum blechook's, m y sist er bounced in and left us. As it was alm ost noon, Joe and I held st raight on t o Miss Havisham 's house. Est ella opened t he gat e as usual, and, t he m om ent she appeared, Joe t ook his hat off and st ood weighing it by t he brim in bot h his hands: as if he had som e urgent reason in his m ind for being part icular t o half a quart er of an ounce. Est ella t ook no not ice of eit her of us, but led us t he way t hat I knew so well. I followed next t o her, and Joe cam e last . When I looked back at Joe in t he long passage, he was st ill weighing his hat wit h t he great est care, and was com ing aft er us in long st rides on t he t ips of his t oes. Est ella t old m e we were bot h t o go in, so I t ook Joe by t he coat - cuff and conduct ed him int o Miss Havisham 's presence. She was seat ed at her dressing- t able, and looked round at us im m ediat ely. “ Oh! ” said she t o Joe. “ You are t he husband of t he sist er of t his boy?” I could hardly have im agined dear old Joe looking so unlike him self or so like som e ext raordinary bird; st anding, as he did, speechless, wit h his t uft of feat hers ruffled, and his m out h open, as if he want ed a worm . “ You are t he husband,” repeat ed Miss Havisham , “ of t he sist er of t his boy?” I t was very aggravat ing; but , t hroughout t he int erview Joe persist ed in addressing Me inst ead of Miss Havisham . 139
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Which I m eant ersay, Pip,” Joe now observed in a m anner t hat was at once expressive of forcible argum ent at ion, st rict confidence, and great polit eness, “ as I hup and m arried your sist er, and I were at t he t im e what you m ight call ( if you was anyways inclined) a single m an.” “ Well! ” said Miss Havisham . “ And you have reared t he boy, wit h t he int ent ion of t aking him for your apprent ice; is t hat so, Mr. Gargery?” “ You know, Pip,” replied Joe, “ as you and m e were ever friends, and it were looked for'ard t o bet wixt us, as being calc'lat ed t o lead t o larks. Not but what , Pip, if you had ever m ade obj ect ions t o t he business—such as it s being open t o black and sut , or such- like—not but what t hey would have been at t ended t o, don't you see?” “ Has t he boy,” said Miss Havisham , “ ever m ade any obj ect ion? Does he like t he t rade?” “ Which it is well beknown t o yourself, Pip,” ret urned Joe, st rengt hening his form er m ixt ure of argum ent at ion, confidence, and polit eness, “ t hat it were t he wish of your own hart .” ( I saw t he idea suddenly break upon him t hat he would adapt his epit aph t o t he occasion, before he went on t o say) “ And t here weren't no obj ect ion on your part , and Pip it were t he great wish of your heart ! ” I t was quit e in vain for m e t o endeavour t o m ake him sensible t hat he ought t o speak t o Miss Havisham . The m ore I m ade faces and gest ures t o him t o do it , t he m ore confident ial, argum ent at ive, and polit e, he persist ed in being t o Me. 140
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Have you brought his indent ures wit h you?” asked Miss Havisham . “ Well, Pip, you know,” replied Joe, as if t hat were a lit t le unreasonable, “ you yourself see m e put ‘em in m y ‘at , and t herefore you know as t hey are here.” Wit h which he t ook t hem out , and gave t hem , not t o Miss Havisham , but t o m e. I am afraid I was asham ed of t he dear good fellow—I know I was asham ed of him —when I saw t hat Est ella st ood at t he back of Miss Havisham 's chair, and t hat her eyes laughed m ischievously. I t ook t he indent ures out of his hand and gave t hem t o Miss Havisham . “ You expect ed,” said Miss Havisham , as she looked t hem over, “ no prem ium wit h t he boy?” “ Joe! ” I rem onst rat ed; for he m ade no reply at all. “ Why don't you answer—” “ Pip,” ret urned Joe, cut t ing m e short as if he were hurt , “ which I m eant ersay t hat were not a quest ion requiring a answer bet wixt yourself and m e, and which you know t he answer t o be full well No. You know it t o be No, Pip, and wherefore should I say it ?” Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she underst ood what he really was, bet t er t han I had t hought possible, seeing what he was t here; and t ook up a lit t le bag from t he t able beside her. “ Pip has earned a prem ium here,” she said, “ and here it is. There are five- and- t went y guineas in t his bag. Give it t o your m ast er, Pip.”
141
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
As if he were absolut ely out of his m ind wit h t he wonder awakened in him by her st range figure and t he st range room , Joe, even at t his pass, persist ed in addressing m e. “ This is wery liberal on your part , Pip,” said Joe, “ and it is as such received and grat eful welcom e, t hough never looked for, far nor near nor nowheres. And now, old chap,” said Joe, conveying t o m e a sensat ion, first of burning and t hen of freezing, for I felt as if t hat fam iliar expression were applied t o Miss Havisham ; “ and now, old chap, m ay we do our dut y! May you and m e do our dut y, bot h on us by one and anot her, and by t hem which your liberal present —have—conweyed—t o be—for t he sat isfact ion of m ind—of—t hem as never—” here Joe showed t hat he felt he had fallen int o fright ful difficult ies, unt il he t rium phant ly rescued him self wit h t he words, “ and from m yself far be it ! ” These words had such a round and convincing sound for him t hat he said t hem t wice. “ Good- bye, Pip! ” said Miss Havisham . “ Let t hem out , Est ella.” “ Am I t o com e again, Miss Havisham ?” I asked. “ No. Gargery is your m ast er now. Gargery! One word! ” Thus calling him back as I went out of t he door, I heard her say t o Joe, in a dist inct em phat ic voice, “ The boy has been a good boy here, and t hat is his reward. Of course, as an honest m an, you will expect no ot her and no m ore.” How Joe got out of t he room , I have never been able t o det erm ine; but , I know t hat when he did get out he was st eadily proceeding up- st airs inst ead of com ing down, and was deaf t o all rem onst rances unt il I went aft er him and laid 142
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
hold of him . I n anot her m inut e we were out side t he gat e, and it was locked, and Est ella was gone. When we st ood in t he daylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall, and said t o m e, “ Ast onishing! ” And t here he rem ained so long, saying “ Ast onishing” at int ervals, so oft en, t hat I began t o t hink his senses were never com ing back. At lengt h he prolonged his rem ark int o “ Pip, I do assure you t his is as- t onishing! ” and so, by degrees, becam e conversat ional and able t o walk away. I have reason t o t hink t hat Joe's int ellect s were bright ened by t he encount er t hey had passed t hrough, and t hat on our way t o Pum blechook's he invent ed a subt le and deep design. My reason is t o be found in what t ook place in Mr. Pum blechook's parlour: where, on our present ing ourselves, m y sist er sat in conference wit h t hat det est ed seedsm an. “ Well?” cried m y sist er, addressing us bot h at once. “ And what 's happened t o you? I wonder you condescend t o com e back t o such poor societ y as t his, I am sure I do! ” “ Miss Havisham ,” said Joe, wit h a fixed look at m e, like an effort of rem em brance, “ m ade it wery part ick'ler t hat we should give her—were it com plim ent s or respect s, Pip?” “ Com plim ent s,” I said. “ Which t hat were m y own belief,” answered Joe—" her com plim ent s t o Mrs. J. Gargery—” “ Much good t hey'll do m e! ” observed m y sist er; but rat her grat ified t oo. “ And wishing,” pursued Joe, wit h anot her fixed look at m e, like anot her effort of rem em brance, “ t hat t he st at e of Miss 143
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Havisham 's elt h were sit ch as would have—allowed, were it , Pip?” “ Of her having t he pleasure,” I added. “ Of ladies’ com pany,” said Joe. And drew a long breat h. “ Well! ” cried m y sist er, wit h a m ollified glance at Mr. Pum blechook. “ She m ight have had t he polit eness t o send t hat m essage at first , but it 's bet t er lat e t han never. And what did she give young Rant ipole here?” “ She giv’ him ,” said Joe, “ not hing.” Mrs. Joe was going t o break out , but Joe went on. “ What she giv',” said Joe, “ she giv’ t o his friends. ‘And by his friends,’ were her explanat ion, ‘I m ean int o t he hands of his sist er Mrs. J. Gargery.’ Them were her words; ‘Mrs. J. Gargery.’ She m ayn't have know'd,” added Joe, wit h an appearance of reflect ion, “ whet her it were Joe, or Jorge.” My sist er looked at Pum blechook: who sm oot hed t he elbows of his wooden arm chair, and nodded at her and at t he fire, as if he had known all about it beforehand. “ And how m uch have you got ?” asked m y sist er, laughing. Posit ively, laughing! “ What would present com pany say t o t en pound?” dem anded Joe. “ They'd say,” ret urned m y sist er, curt ly, “ pret t y well. Not t oo m uch, but pret t y well.” “ I t 's m ore t han t hat , t hen,” said Joe. That fearful I m post or, Pum blechook, im m ediat ely nodded, and said, as he rubbed t he arm s of his chair: “ I t 's m ore t han t hat , Mum .” “ Why, you don't m ean t o say—” began m y sist er. 144
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yes I do, Mum ,” said Pum blechook; “ but wait a bit . Go on, Joseph. Good in you! Go on! ” “ What would present com pany say,” proceeded Joe, “ t o t went y pound?” “ Handsom e would be t he word,” ret urned m y sist er. “ Well, t hen,” said Joe, “ I t 's m ore t han t went y pound.” That abj ect hypocrit e, Pum blechook, nodded again, and said, wit h a pat ronizing laugh, “ I t 's m ore t han t hat , Mum . Good again! Follow her up, Joseph! ” “ Then t o m ake an end of it ,” said Joe, delight edly handing t he bag t o m y sist er; “ it 's five- and- t went y pound.” “ I t 's five- and- t went y pound, Mum ,” echoed t hat basest of swindlers, Pum blechook, rising t o shake hands wit h her; “ and it 's no m ore t han your m erit s ( as I said when m y opinion was asked) , and I wish you j oy of t he m oney! ” I f t he villain had st opped here, his case would have been sufficient ly awful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding t o t ake m e int o cust ody, wit h a right of pat ronage t hat left all his form er crim inalit y far behind. “ Now you see, Joseph and wife,” said Pum blechook, as he t ook m e by t he arm above t he elbow, “ I am one of t hem t hat always go right t hrough wit h what t hey've begun. This boy m ust be bound, out of hand. That 's m y way. Bound out of hand.” “ Goodness knows, Uncle Pum blechook,” said m y sist er ( grasping t he m oney) , “ we're deeply beholden t o you.” “ Never m ind m e, Mum , ret urned t hat diabolical cornchandler. “ A pleasure's a pleasure, all t he world over. But t his 145
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
boy, you know; we m ust have him bound. I said I 'd see t o it —t o t ell you t he t rut h.” The Just ices were sit t ing in t he Town Hall near at hand, and we at once went over t o have m e bound apprent ice t o Joe in t he Magist erial presence. I say, we went over, but I was pushed over by Pum blechook, exact ly as if I had t hat m om ent picked a pocket or fired a rick; indeed, it was t he general im pression in Court t hat I had been t aken redhanded, for, as Pum blechook shoved m e before him t hrough t he crowd, I heard som e people say, “ What 's he done?” and ot hers, “ He's a young ‘un, t oo, but looks bad, don't he? One person of m ild and benevolent aspect even gave m e a t ract ornam ent ed wit h a woodcut of a m alevolent young m an fit t ed up wit h a perfect sausage- shop of fet t ers, and ent it led, To Be Read in My Cell. The Hall was a queer place, I t hought , wit h higher pews in it t han a church—and wit h people hanging over t he pews looking on—and wit h m ight y Just ices ( one wit h a powdered head) leaning back in chairs, wit h folded arm s, or t aking snuff, or going t o sleep, or writ ing, or reading t he newspapers—and wit h som e shining black port rait s on t he walls, which m y unart ist ic eye regarded as a com posit ion of hardbake and st icking- plaist er. Here, in a corner, m y indent ures were duly signed and at t est ed, and I was “ bound; ” Mr. Pum blechook holding m e all t he while as if we had looked in on our way t o t he scaffold, t o have t hose lit t le prelim inaries disposed of. When we had com e out again, and had got rid of t he boys who had been put int o great spirit s by t he expect at ion of 146
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
seeing m e publicly t ort ured, and who were m uch disappoint ed t o find t hat m y friends were m erely rallying round m e, we went back t o Pum blechook's. And t here m y sist er becam e so excit ed by t he t went y- five guineas, t hat not hing would serve her but we m ust have a dinner out of t hat windfall, at t he Blue Boar, and t hat Pum blechook m ust go over in his chaisecart , and bring t he Hubbles and Mr. Wopsle. I t was agreed t o be done; and a m ost m elancholy day I passed. For, it inscrut ably appeared t o st and t o reason, in t he m inds of t he whole com pany, t hat I was an excrescence on t he ent ert ainm ent . And t o m ake it worse, t hey all asked m e from t im e t o t im e—in short , whenever t hey had not hing else t o do—why I didn't enj oy m yself. And what could I possibly do t hen, but say I was enj oying m yself—when I wasn't ? However, t hey were grown up and had t heir own way, and t hey m ade t he m ost of it . That swindling Pum blechook, exalt ed int o t he beneficent cont river of t he whole occasion, act ually t ook t he t op of t he t able; and, when he addressed t hem on t he subj ect of m y being bound, and had fiendishly congrat ulat ed t hem on m y being liable t o im prisonm ent if I played at cards, drank st rong liquors, kept lat e hours or bad com pany, or indulged in ot her vagaries which t he form of m y indent ures appeared t o cont em plat e as next t o inevit able, he placed m e st anding on a chair beside him , t o illust rat e his rem arks. My only ot her rem em brances of t he great fest ival are, That t hey wouldn't let m e go t o sleep, but whenever t hey saw m e dropping off, woke m e up and t old m e t o enj oy m yself. That , rat her lat e in t he evening Mr. Wopsle gave us Collins's ode, 147
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and t hrew his bloodst ain'd sword in t hunder down, wit h such effect , t hat a wait er cam e in and said, “ The Com m ercials underneat h sent up t heir com plim ent s, and it wasn't t he Tum blers’ Arm s.” That , t hey were all in excellent spirit s on t he road hom e, and sang O Lady Fair! Mr. Wopsle t aking t he bass, and assert ing wit h a t rem endously st rong voice ( in reply t o t he inquisit ive bore who leads t hat piece of m usic in a m ost im pert inent m anner, by want ing t o know all about everybody's privat e affairs) t hat he was t he m an wit h his whit e locks flowing, and t hat he was upon t he whole t he weakest pilgrim going. Finally, I rem em ber t hat when I got int o m y lit t le bedroom I was t ruly wret ched, and had a st rong convict ion on m e t hat I should never like Joe's t rade. I had liked it once, but once was not now.
148
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 14 I t is a m ost m iserable t hing t o feel asham ed of hom e. There m ay be black ingrat it ude in t he t hing, and t he punishm ent m ay be ret ribut ive and well deserved; but , t hat it is a m iserable t hing, I can t est ify. Hom e had never been a very pleasant place t o m e, because of m y sist er's t em per. But , Joe had sanct ified it , and I had believed in it . I had believed in t he best parlour as a m ost elegant saloon; I had believed in t he front door, as a m yst erious port al of t he Tem ple of St at e whose solem n opening was at t ended wit h a sacrifice of roast fowls; I had believed in t he kit chen as a chast e t hough not m agnificent apart m ent ; I had believed in t he forge as t he glowing road t o m anhood and independence. Wit hin a single year, all t his was changed. Now, it was all coarse and com m on, and I would not have had Miss Havisham and Est ella see it on any account . How m uch of m y ungracious condit ion of m ind m ay have been m y own fault , how m uch Miss Havisham 's, how m uch m y sist er's, is now of no m om ent t o m e or t o any one. The change was m ade in m e; t he t hing was done. Well or ill done, excusably or inexcusably, it was done. Once, it had seem ed t o m e t hat when I should at last roll up m y shirt - sleeves and go int o t he forge, Joe's ‘prent ice, I should be dist inguished and happy. Now t he realit y was in m y hold, I only felt t hat I was dust y wit h t he dust of sm all coal, and t hat I had a weight upon m y daily rem em brance t o which t he anvil was a feat her. There have been occasions in m y 149
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
lat er life ( I suppose as in m ost lives) when I have felt for a t im e as if a t hick curt ain had fallen on all it s int erest and rom ance, t o shut m e out from anyt hing save dull endurance any m ore. Never has t hat curt ain dropped so heavy and blank, as when m y way in life lay st ret ched out st raight before m e t hrough t he newly- ent ered road of apprent iceship t o Joe. I rem em ber t hat at a lat er period of m y “ t im e,” I used t o st and about t he churchyard on Sunday evenings when night was falling, com paring m y own perspect ive wit h t he windy m arsh view, and m aking out som e likeness bet ween t hem by t hinking how flat and low bot h were, and how on bot h t here cam e an unknown way and a dark m ist and t hen t he sea. I was quit e as dej ect ed on t he first working- day of m y apprent iceship as in t hat aft er- t im e; but I am glad t o know t hat I never breat hed a m urm ur t o Joe while m y indent ures last ed. I t is about t he only t hing I am glad t o know of m yself in t hat connect ion. For, t hough it includes what I proceed t o add, all t he m erit of what I proceed t o add was Joe's. I t was not because I was fait hful, but because Joe was fait hful, t hat I never ran away and went for a soldier or a sailor. I t was not because I had a st rong sense of t he virt ue of indust ry, but because Joe had a st rong sense of t he virt ue of indust ry, t hat I worked wit h t olerable zeal against t he grain. I t is not possible t o know how far t he influence of any am iable honest - heart ed dut y- doing m an flies out int o t he world; but it is very possible t o know how it has t ouched one's self in going by, and I know right well, t hat any good t hat int erm ixed it self wit h m y 150
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
apprent iceship cam e of plain cont ent ed Joe, and not of rest lessly aspiring discont ent ed m e. What I want ed, who can say? How can I say, when I never knew? What I dreaded was, t hat in som e unlucky hour I , being at m y grim iest and com m onest , should lift up m y eyes and see Est ella looking in at one of t he wooden windows of t he forge. I was haunt ed by t he fear t hat she would, sooner or lat er, find m e out , wit h a black face and hands, doing t he coarsest part of m y work, and would exult over m e and despise m e. Oft en aft er dark, when I was pulling t he bellows for Joe, and we were singing Old Clem , and when t he t hought how we used t o sing it at Miss Havisham 's would seem t o show m e Est ella's face in t he fire, wit h her pret t y hair flut t ering in t he wind and her eyes scorning m e,—oft en at such a t im e I would look t owards t hose panels of black night in t he wall which t he wooden windows t hen were, and would fancy t hat I saw her j ust drawing her face away, and would believe t hat she had com e at last . Aft er t hat , when we went in t o supper, t he place and t he m eal would have a m ore hom ely look t han ever, and I would feel m ore asham ed of hom e t han ever, in m y own ungracious breast .
151
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 15 As I was get t ing t oo big for Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt 's room , m y educat ion under t hat prepost erous fem ale t erm inat ed. Not , however, unt il Biddy had im part ed t o m e everyt hing she knew, from t he lit t le cat alogue of prices, t o a com ic song she had once bought for a halfpenny. Alt hough t he only coherent part of t he lat t er piece of lit erat ure were t he opening lines, When I went t o Lunnon t own sirs, Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul Wasn't I done very brown sirs? Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul —st ill, in m y desire t o be wiser, I got t his com posit ion by heart wit h t he ut m ost gravit y; nor do I recollect t hat I quest ioned it s m erit , except t hat I t hought ( as I st ill do) t he am ount of Too rul som ewhat in excess of t he poet ry. I n m y hunger for inform at ion, I m ade proposals t o Mr. Wopsle t o best ow som e int ellect ual crum bs upon m e; wit h which he kindly com plied. As it t urned out , however, t hat he only want ed m e for a dram at ic lay- figure, t o be cont radict ed and em braced and wept over and bullied and clut ched and st abbed and knocked about in a variet y of ways, I soon declined t hat course of inst ruct ion; t hough not unt il Mr. Wopsle in his poet ic fury had severely m auled m e. 152
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
What ever I acquired, I t ried t o im part t o Joe. This st at em ent sounds so well, t hat I cannot in m y conscience let it pass unexplained. I want ed t o m ake Joe less ignorant and com m on, t hat he m ight be wort hier of m y societ y and less open t o Est ella's reproach. The old Bat t ery out on t he m arshes was our place of st udy, and a broken slat e and a short piece of slat e pencil were our educat ional im plem ent s: t o which Joe always added a pipe of t obacco. I never knew Joe t o rem em ber anyt hing from one Sunday t o anot her, or t o acquire, under m y t uit ion, any piece of inform at ion what ever. Yet he would sm oke his pipe at t he Bat t ery wit h a far m ore sagacious air t han anywhere else— even wit h a learned air—as if he considered him self t o be advancing im m ensely. Dear fellow, I hope he did. I t was pleasant and quiet , out t here wit h t he sails on t he river passing beyond t he eart hwork, and som et im es, when t he t ide was low, looking as if t hey belonged t o sunken ships t hat were st ill sailing on at t he bot t om of t he wat er. Whenever I wat ched t he vessels st anding out t o sea wit h t heir whit e sails spread, I som ehow t hought of Miss Havisham and Est ella; and whenever t he light st ruck aslant , afar off, upon a cloud or sail or green hill- side or wat er- line, it was j ust t he sam e.—Miss Havisham and Est ella and t he st range house and t he st range life appeared t o have som et hing t o do wit h everyt hing t hat was pict uresque. One Sunday when Joe, great ly enj oying his pipe, had so plum ed him self on being “ m ost awful dull,” t hat I had given him up for t he day, I lay on t he eart hwork for som e t im e wit h m y chin on m y hand, descrying t races of Miss Havisham and 153
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Est ella all over t he prospect , in t he sky and in t he wat er, unt il at last I resolved t o m ent ion a t hought concerning t hem t hat had been m uch in m y head. “ Joe,” said I ; “ don't you t hink I ought t o m ake Miss Havisham a visit ?” “ Well, Pip,” ret urned Joe, slowly considering. “ What for?” “ What for, Joe? What is any visit m ade for?” “ There is som e wisit s, p'r'aps,” said Joe, “ as for ever rem ains open t o t he quest ion, Pip. But in regard t o wisit ing Miss Havisham . She m ight t hink you want ed som et hing— expect ed som et hing of her.” “ Don't you t hink I m ight say t hat I did not , Joe?” “ You m ight , old chap,” said Joe. “ And she m ight credit it . Sim ilarly she m ight n't .” Joe felt , as I did, t hat he had m ade a point t here, and he pulled hard at his pipe t o keep him self from weakening it by repet it ion. “ You see, Pip,” Joe pursued, as soon as he was past t hat danger, “ Miss Havisham done t he handsom e t hing by you. When Miss Havisham done t he handsom e t hing by you, she called m e back t o say t o m e as t hat were all.” “ Yes, Joe. I heard her.” “ All,” Joe repeat ed, very em phat ically. “ Yes, Joe. I t ell you, I heard her.” “ Which I m eant ersay, Pip, it m ight be t hat her m eaning were—Make a end on it ! —As you was! —Me t o t he Nort h, and you t o t he Sout h! —Keep in sunders! ”
154
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I had t hought of t hat t oo, and it was very far from com fort ing t o m e t o find t hat he had t hought of it ; for it seem ed t o render it m ore probable. “ But , Joe.” “ Yes, old chap.” “ Here am I , get t ing on in t he first year of m y t im e, and, since t he day of m y being bound, I have never t hanked Miss Havisham , or asked aft er her, or shown t hat I rem em ber her.” “ That 's t rue, Pip; and unless you was t o t urn her out a set of shoes all four round—and which I m eant ersay as even a set of shoes all four round m ight not be accept able as a present , in a t ot al wacancy of hoofs—” “ I don't m ean t hat sort of rem em brance, Joe; I don't m ean a present .” But Joe had got t he idea of a present in his head and m ust harp upon it . “ Or even,” said he, “ if you was helped t o knocking her up a new chain for t he front door—or say a gross or t wo of shark- headed screws for general use—or som e light fancy art icle, such as a t oast ing- fork when she t ook her m uffins—or a gridiron when she t ook a sprat or such like—” “ I don't m ean any present at all, Joe,” I int erposed. “ Well,” said Joe, st ill harping on it as t hough I had part icularly pressed it , “ if I was yourself, Pip, I wouldn't . No, I would not . For what 's a door- chain when she's got one always up? And shark- headers is open t o m isrepresent at ions. And if it was a t oast ing- fork, you'd go int o brass and do yourself no credit . And t he oncom m onest workm an can't show him self 155
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
oncom m on in a gridiron—for a gridiron I S a gridiron,” said Joe, st eadfast ly im pressing it upon m e, as if he were endeavouring t o rouse m e from a fixed delusion, “ and you m ay haim at what you like, but a gridiron it will com e out , eit her by your leave or again your leave, and you can't help yourself—” “ My dear Joe,” I cried, in desperat ion, t aking hold of his coat , “ don't go on in t hat way. I never t hought of m aking Miss Havisham any present .” “ No, Pip,” Joe assent ed, as if he had been cont ending for t hat , all along; “ and what I say t o you is, you are right , Pip.” “ Yes, Joe; but what I want ed t o say, was, t hat as we are rat her slack j ust now, if you would give m e a half- holiday t om orrow, I t hink I would go up- t own and m ake a call on Miss Est —Havisham .” “ Which her nam e,” said Joe, gravely, “ ain't Est avisham , Pip, unless she have been rechris'ened.” “ I know, Joe, I know. I t was a slip of m ine. What do you t hink of it , Joe?” I n brief, Joe t hought t hat if I t hought well of it , he t hought well of it . But , he was part icular in st ipulat ing t hat if I were not received wit h cordialit y, or if I were not encouraged t o repeat m y visit as a visit which had no ult erior obj ect but was sim ply one of grat it ude for a favour received, t hen t his experim ent al t rip should have no successor. By t hese condit ions I prom ised t o abide. Now, Joe kept a j ourneym an at weekly wages whose nam e was Orlick. He pret ended t hat his Christ ian nam e was Dolge— a clear im possibilit y—but he was a fellow of t hat obst inat e 156
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
disposit ion t hat I believe him t o have been t he prey of no delusion in t his part icular, but wilfully t o have im posed t hat nam e upon t he village as an affront t o it s underst anding. He was a broadshouldered loose- lim bed swart hy fellow of great st rengt h, never in a hurry, and always slouching. He never even seem ed t o com e t o his work on purpose, but would slouch in as if by m ere accident ; and when he went t o t he Jolly Bargem en t o eat his dinner, or went away at night , he would slouch out , like Cain or t he Wandering Jew, as if he had no idea where he was going and no int ent ion of ever com ing back. He lodged at a sluice- keeper's out on t he m arshes, and on working days would com e slouching from his herm it age, wit h his hands in his pocket s and his dinner loosely t ied in a bundle round his neck and dangling on his back. On Sundays he m ost ly lay all day on t he sluice- gat es, or st ood against ricks and barns. He always slouched, locom ot ively, wit h his eyes on t he ground; and, when accost ed or ot herwise required t o raise t hem , he looked up in a half resent ful, half puzzled way, as t hough t he only t hought he ever had, was, t hat it was rat her an odd and inj urious fact t hat he should never be t hinking. This m orose j ourneym an had no liking for m e. When I was very sm all and t im id, he gave m e t o underst and t hat t he Devil lived in a black corner of t he forge, and t hat he knew t he fiend very well: also t hat it was necessary t o m ake up t he fire, once in seven years, wit h a live boy, and t hat I m ight consider m yself fuel. When I becam e Joe's ‘prent ice, Orlick was perhaps confirm ed in som e suspicion t hat I should displace him ; howbeit , he liked m e st ill less. Not t hat he ever 157
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
said anyt hing, or did anyt hing, openly im port ing host ilit y; I only not iced t hat he always beat his sparks in m y direct ion, and t hat whenever I sang Old Clem , he cam e in out of t im e. Dolge Orlick was at work and present , next day, when I rem inded Joe of m y half- holiday. He said not hing at t he m om ent , for he and Joe had j ust got a piece of hot iron bet ween t hem , and I was at t he bellows; but by- and- by he said, leaning on his ham m er: “ Now, m ast er! Sure you're not a- going t o favour only one of us. I f Young Pip has a half- holiday, do as m uch for Old Orlick.” I suppose he was about five- and- t went y, but he usually spoke of him self as an ancient person. “ Why, what 'll you do wit h a half- holiday, if you get it ?” said Joe. “ What 'll I do wit h it ! What 'll he do wit h it ? I 'll do as m uch wit h it as him ,” said Orlick. “ As t o Pip, he's going up- t own,” said Joe. “ Well t hen, as t o Old Orlick, he's a- going up- t own,” ret ort ed t hat wort hy. “ Two can go up- t own. Tan't only one wot can go up- t own. “ Don't lose your t em per,” said Joe. “ Shall if I like,” growled Orlick. “ Som e and t heir upt owning! Now, m ast er! Com e. No favouring in t his shop. Be a m an! ” The m ast er refusing t o ent ert ain t he subj ect unt il t he j ourneym an was in a bet t er t em per, Orlick plunged at t he furnace, drew out a red- hot bar, m ade at m e wit h it as if he were going t o run it t hrough m y body, whisked it round m y head, laid it on t he anvil, ham m ered it out —as if it were I , I 158
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hought , and t he sparks were m y spirt ing blood—and finally said, when he had ham m ered him self hot and t he iron cold, and he again leaned on his ham m er: “ Now, m ast er! ” “ Are you all right now?” dem anded Joe. “ Ah! I am all right ,” said gruff Old Orlick. “ Then, as in general you st ick t o your work as well as m ost m en,” said Joe, “ let it be a half- holiday for all.” My sist er had been st anding silent in t he yard, wit hin hearing—she was a m ost unscrupulous spy and list ener—and she inst ant ly looked in at one of t he windows. “ Like you, you fool! ” said she t o Joe, “ giving holidays t o great idle hulkers like t hat . You are a rich m an, upon m y life, t o wast e wages in t hat way. I wish I was his m ast er! ” “ You'd be everybody's m ast er, if you durst ,” ret ort ed Orlick, wit h an ill- favoured grin. ( " Let her alone,” said Joe.) “ I 'd be a m at ch for all noodles and all rogues,” ret urned m y sist er, beginning t o work herself int o a m ight y rage. “ And I couldn't be a m at ch for t he noodles, wit hout being a m at ch for your m ast er, who's t he dunder- headed king of t he noodles. And I couldn't be a m at ch for t he rogues, wit hout being a m at ch for you, who are t he blackest - looking and t he worst rogue bet ween t his and France. Now! ” “ You're a foul shrew, Mot her Gargery, growled t he j ourneym an. “ I f t hat m akes a j udge of rogues, you ought t o be a good'un.” ( " Let her alone, will you?” said Joe.) 159
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ What did you say?” cried m y sist er, beginning t o scream . “ What did you say? What did t hat fellow Orlick say t o m e, Pip? What did he call m e, wit h m y husband st anding by? O! O! O! ” Each of t hese exclam at ions was a shriek; and I m ust rem ark of m y sist er, what is equally t rue of all t he violent wom en I have ever seen, t hat passion was no excuse for her, because it is undeniable t hat inst ead of lapsing int o passion, she consciously and deliberat ely t ook ext raordinary pains t o force herself int o it , and becam e blindly furious by regular st ages; “ what was t he nam e he gave m e before t he base m an who swore t o defend m e? O! Hold m e! O! ” “ Ah- h- h! ” growled t he j ourneym an, bet ween his t eet h, “ I 'd hold you, if you was m y wife. I 'd hold you under t he pum p, and choke it out of you.” ( " I t ell you, let her alone,” said Joe.) “ Oh! To hear him ! ” cried m y sist er, wit h a clap of her hands and a scream t oget her—which was her next st age. “ To hear t he nam es he's giving m e! That Orlick! I n m y own house! Me, a m arried wom an! Wit h m y husband st anding by! O! O! ” Here m y sist er, aft er a fit of clappings and scream ings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon her knees, and t hrew her cap off, and pulled her hair down—which were t he last st ages on her road t o frenzy. Being by t his t im e a perfect Fury and a com plet e success, she m ade a dash at t he door, which I had fort unat ely locked. What could t he wret ched Joe do now, aft er his disregarded parent het ical int errupt ions, but st and up t o his j ourneym an, and ask him what he m eant by int erfering bet wixt him self and Mrs. Joe; and furt her whet her he was m an enough t o com e 160
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
on? Old Orlick felt t hat t he sit uat ion adm it t ed of not hing less t han com ing on, and was on his defence st raight way; so, wit hout so m uch as pulling off t heir singed and burnt aprons, t hey went at one anot her, like t wo giant s. But , if any m an in t hat neighbourhood could st and up long against Joe, I never saw t he m an. Orlick, as if he had been of no m ore account t han t he pale young gent lem an, was very soon am ong t he coal- dust , and in no hurry t o com e out of it . Then, Joe unlocked t he door and picked up m y sist er, who had dropped insensible at t he window ( but who had seen t he fight first , I t hink) , and who was carried int o t he house and laid down, and who was recom m ended t o revive, and would do not hing but st ruggle and clench her hands in Joe's hair. Then, cam e t hat singular calm and silence which succeed all uproars; and t hen, wit h t he vague sensat ion which I have always connect ed wit h such a lull—nam ely, t hat it was Sunday, and som ebody was dead—I went up- st airs t o dress m yself. When I cam e down again, I found Joe and Orlick sweeping up, wit hout any ot her t races of discom posure t han a slit in one of Orlick's nost rils, which was neit her expressive nor ornam ent al. A pot of beer had appeared from t he Jolly Bargem en, and t hey were sharing it by t urns in a peaceable m anner. The lull had a sedat ive and philosophical influence on Joe, who followed m e out int o t he road t o say, as a part ing observat ion t hat m ight do m e good, “ On t he Ram page, Pip, and off t he Ram page, Pip—such is Life! ” Wit h what absurd em ot ions ( for, we t hink t he feelings t hat are very serious in a m an quit e com ical in a boy) I found m yself again going t o Miss Havisham 's, m at t ers lit t le here. 161
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Nor, how I passed and repassed t he gat e m any t im es before I could m ake up m y m ind t o ring. Nor, how I debat ed whet her I should go away wit hout ringing; nor, how I should undoubt edly have gone, if m y t im e had been m y own, t o com e back. Miss Sarah Pocket cam e t o t he gat e. No Est ella. “ How, t hen? You here again?” said Miss Pocket . “ What do you want ?” When I said t hat I only cam e t o see how Miss Havisham was, Sarah evident ly deliberat ed whet her or no she should send m e about m y business. But , unwilling t o hazard t he responsibilit y, she let m e in, and present ly brought t he sharp m essage t hat I was t o “ com e up.” Everyt hing was unchanged, and Miss Havisham was alone. “ Well?” said she, fixing her eyes upon m e. “ I hope you want not hing? You'll get not hing.” “ No, indeed, Miss Havisham . I only want ed you t o know t hat I am doing very well in m y apprent iceship, and am always m uch obliged t o you.” “ There, t here! ” wit h t he old rest less fingers. “ Com e now and t hen; com e on your birt hday.—Ay! ” she cried suddenly, t urning herself and her chair t owards m e, “ You are looking round for Est ella? Hey?” I had been looking round—in fact , for Est ella—and I st am m ered t hat I hoped she was well. “ Abroad,” said Miss Havisham ; “ educat ing for a lady; far out of reach; pret t ier t han ever; adm ired by all who see her. Do you feel t hat you have lost her?” 162
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
There was such a m alignant enj oym ent in her ut t erance of t he last words, and she broke int o such a disagreeable laugh, t hat I was at a loss what t o say. She spared m e t he t rouble of considering, by dism issing m e. When t he gat e was closed upon m e by Sarah of t he walnut - shell count enance, I felt m ore t han ever dissat isfied wit h m y hom e and wit h m y t rade and wit h everyt hing; and t hat was all I t ook by t hat m ot ion. As I was loit ering along t he High- st reet , looking in disconsolat ely at t he shop windows, and t hinking what I would buy if I were a gent lem an, who should com e out of t he bookshop but Mr. Wopsle. Mr Wopsle had in his hand t he affect ing t ragedy of George Barnwell, in which he had t hat m om ent invest ed sixpence, wit h t he view of heaping every word of it on t he head of Pum blechook, wit h whom he was going t o drink t ea. No sooner did he see m e, t han he appeared t o consider t hat a special Providence had put a ‘prent ice in his way t o be read at ; and he laid hold of m e, and insist ed on m y accom panying him t o t he Pum blechookian parlour. As I knew it would be m iserable at hom e, and as t he night s were dark and t he way was dreary, and alm ost any com panionship on t he road was bet t er t han none, I m ade no great resist ance; consequent ly, we t urned int o Pum blechook's j ust as t he st reet and t he shops were light ing up. As I never assist ed at any ot her represent at ion of George Barnwell, I don't know how long it m ay usually t ake; but I know very well t hat it t ook unt il half- past nine o’ clock t hat night , and t hat when Mr. Wopsle got int o Newgat e, I t hought he never would go t o t he scaffold, he becam e so m uch slower t han at any form er period of his disgraceful career. I t hought 163
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
it a lit t le t oo m uch t hat he should com plain of being cut short in his flower aft er all, as if he had not been running t o seed, leaf aft er leaf, ever since his course began. This, however, was a m ere quest ion of lengt h and wearisom eness. What st ung m e, was t he ident ificat ion of t he whole affair wit h m y unoffending self. When Barnwell began t o go wrong, I declare t hat I felt posit ively apologet ic, Pum blechook's indignant st are so t axed m e wit h it . Wopsle, t oo, t ook pains t o present m e in t he worst light . At once ferocious and m audlin, I was m ade t o m urder m y uncle wit h no ext enuat ing circum st ances what ever; Millwood put m e down in argum ent , on every occasion; it becam e sheer m onom ania in m y m ast er's daught er t o care a but t on for m e; and all I can say for m y gasping and procrast inat ing conduct on t he fat al m orning, is, t hat it was wort hy of t he general feebleness of m y charact er. Even aft er I was happily hanged and Wopsle had closed t he book, Pum blechook sat st aring at m e, and shaking his head, and saying, “ Take warning, boy, t ake warning! ” as if it were a well- known fact t hat I cont em plat ed m urdering a near relat ion, provided I could only induce one t o have t he weakness t o becom e m y benefact or. I t was a very dark night when it was all over, and when I set out wit h Mr. Wopsle on t he walk hom e. Beyond t own, we found a heavy m ist out , and it fell wet and t hick. The t urnpike lam p was a blur, quit e out of t he lam p's usual place apparent ly, and it s rays looked solid subst ance on t he fog. We were not icing t his, and saying how t hat t he m ist rose wit h a change of wind from a cert ain quart er of our m arshes, when 164
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
we cam e upon a m an, slouching under t he lee of t he t urnpike house. “ Halloa! ” we said, st opping. “ Orlick, t here?” “ Ah! ” he answered, slouching out . “ I was st anding by, a m inut e, on t he chance of com pany.” “ You are lat e,” I rem arked. Orlick not unnat urally answered, “ Well? And you're lat e.” “ We have been,” said Mr. Wopsle, exalt ed wit h his lat e perform ance, “ we have been indulging, Mr. Orlick, in an int ellect ual evening.” Old Orlick growled, as if he had not hing t o say about t hat , and we all went on t oget her. I asked him present ly whet her he had been spending his half- holiday up and down t own? “ Yes,” said he, “ all of it . I com e in behind yourself. I didn't see you, but I m ust have been pret t y close behind you. Byt he- bye, t he guns is going again.” “ At t he Hulks?” said I . “ Ay! There's som e of t he birds flown from t he cages. The guns have been going since dark, about . You'll hear one present ly.” I n effect , we had not walked m any yards furt her, when t he wellrem em bered boom cam e t owards us, deadened by t he m ist , and heavily rolled away along t he low grounds by t he river, as if it were pursuing and t hreat ening t he fugit ives. “ A good night for cut t ing off in,” said Orlick. “ We'd be puzzled how t o bring down a j ail- bird on t he wing, t o- night .” The subj ect was a suggest ive one t o m e, and I t hought about it in silence. Mr. Wopsle, as t he ill- requit ed uncle of t he evening's t ragedy, fell t o m edit at ing aloud in his garden at 165
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Cam berwell. Orlick, wit h his hands in his pocket s, slouched heavily at m y side. I t was very dark, very wet , very m uddy, and so we splashed along. Now and t hen, t he sound of t he signal cannon broke upon us again, and again rolled sulkily along t he course of t he river. I kept m yself t o m yself and m y t hought s. Mr. Wopsle died am iably at Cam berwell, and exceedingly gam e on Boswort h Field, and in t he great est agonies at Glast onbury. Orlick som et im es growled, “ Beat it out , beat it out —Old Clem ! Wit h a clink for t he st out —Old Clem ! ” I t hought he had been drinking, but he was not drunk. Thus, we cam e t o t he village. The way by which we approached it , t ook us past t he Three Jolly Bargem en, which we were surprised t o find—it being eleven o'clock—in a st at e of com m ot ion, wit h t he door wide open, and unwont ed light s t hat had been hast ily caught up and put down, scat t ered about . Mr. Wopsle dropped in t o ask what was t he m at t er ( surm ising t hat a convict had been t aken) , but cam e running out in a great hurry. “ There's som et hing wrong,” said he, wit hout st opping, “ up at your place, Pip. Run all! ” “ What is it ?” I asked, keeping up wit h him . So did Orlick, at m y side. “ I can't quit e underst and. The house seem s t o have been violent ly ent ered when Joe Gargery was out . Supposed by convict s. Som ebody has been at t acked and hurt .” We were running t oo fast t o adm it of m ore being said, and we m ade no st op unt il we got int o our kit chen. I t was full of people; t he whole village was t here, or in t he yard; and t here was a surgeon, and t here was Joe, and t here was a group of 166
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wom en, all on t he floor in t he m idst of t he kit chen. The unem ployed byst anders drew back when t hey saw m e, and so I becam e aware of m y sist er—lying wit hout sense or m ovem ent on t he bare boards where she had been knocked down by a t rem endous blow on t he back of t he head, dealt by som e unknown hand when her face was t urned t owards t he fire—dest ined never t o be on t he Ram page again, while she was t he wife of Joe.
167
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 16 Wit h m y head full of George Barnwell, I was at first disposed t o believe t hat I m ust have had som e hand in t he at t ack upon m y sist er, or at all event s t hat as her near relat ion, popularly known t o be under obligat ions t o her, I was a m ore legit im at e obj ect of suspicion t han any one else. But when, in t he clearer light of next m orning, I began t o reconsider t he m at t er and t o hear it discussed around m e on all sides, I t ook anot her view of t he case, which was m ore reasonable. Joe had been at t he Three Jolly Bargem en, sm oking his pipe, from a quart er aft er eight o'clock t o a quart er before t en. While he was t here, m y sist er had been seen st anding at t he kit chen door, and had exchanged Good Night wit h a farm labourer going hom e. The m an could not be m ore part icular as t o t he t im e at which he saw her ( he got int o dense confusion when he t ried t o be) , t han t hat it m ust have been before nine. When Joe went hom e at five m inut es before t en, he found her st ruck down on t he floor, and prom pt ly called in assist ance. The fire had not t hen burnt unusually low, nor was t he snuff of t he candle very long; t he candle, however, had been blown out . Not hing had been t aken away from any part of t he house. Neit her, beyond t he blowing out of t he candle—which st ood on a t able bet ween t he door and m y sist er, and was behind her when she st ood facing t he fire and was st ruck—was t here any disarrangem ent of t he kit chen, except ing such as she 168
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
herself had m ade, in falling and bleeding. But , t here was one rem arkable piece of evidence on t he spot . She had been st ruck wit h som et hing blunt and heavy, on t he head and spine; aft er t he blows were dealt , som et hing heavy had been t hrown down at her wit h considerable violence, as she lay on her face. And on t he ground beside her, when Joe picked her up, was a convict 's leg- iron which had been filed asunder. Now, Joe, exam ining t his iron wit h a sm it h's eye, declared it t o have been filed asunder som e t im e ago. The hue and cry going off t o t he Hulks, and people com ing t hence t o exam ine t he iron, Joe's opinion was corroborat ed. They did not undert ake t o say when it had left t he prison- ships t o which it undoubt edly had once belonged; but t hey claim ed t o know for cert ain t hat t hat part icular m anacle had not been worn by eit her of t he t wo convict s who had escaped last night . Furt her, one of t hose t wo was already re- t aken, and had not freed him self of his iron. Knowing what I knew, I set up an inference of m y own here. I believed t he iron t o be m y convict 's iron—t he iron I had seen and heard him filing at , on t he m arshes—but m y m ind did not accuse him of having put it t o it s lat est use. For, I believed one of t wo ot her persons t o have becom e possessed of it , and t o have t urned it t o t his cruel account . Eit her Orlick, or t he st range m an who had shown m e t he file. Now, as t o Orlick; he had gone t o t own exact ly as he t old us when we picked him up at t he t urnpike, he had been seen about t own all t he evening, he had been in divers com panies in several public- houses, and he had com e back wit h m yself and Mr. Wopsle. There was not hing against him , save t he 169
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
quarrel; and m y sist er had quarrelled wit h him , and wit h everybody else about her, t en t housand t im es. As t o t he st range m an; if he had com e back for his t wo bank- not es t here could have been no disput e about t hem , because m y sist er was fully prepared t o rest ore t hem . Besides, t here had been no alt ercat ion; t he assailant had com e in so silent ly and suddenly, t hat she had been felled before she could look round. I t was horrible t o t hink t hat I had provided t he weapon, however undesignedly, but I could hardly t hink ot herwise. I suffered unspeakable t rouble while I considered and reconsidered whet her I should at last dissolve t hat spell of m y childhood, and t ell Joe all t he st ory. For m ont hs aft erwards, I every day set t led t he quest ion finally in t he negat ive, and reopened and reargued it next m orning. The cont ent ion cam e, aft er all, t o t his; —t he secret was such an old one now, had so grown int o m e and becom e a part of m yself, t hat I could not t ear it away. I n addit ion t o t he dread t hat , having led up t o so m uch m ischief, it would be now m ore likely t han ever t o alienat e Joe from m e if he believed it , I had a furt her rest raining dread t hat he would not believe it , but would assort it wit h t he fabulous dogs and veal- cut let s as a m onst rous invent ion. However, I t em porized wit h m yself, of course—for, was I not wavering bet ween right and wrong, when t he t hing is always done?—and resolved t o m ake a full disclosure if I should see any such new occasion as a new chance of helping in t he discovery of t he assailant . The Const ables, and t he Bow St reet m en from London— for, t his happened in t he days of t he ext inct red- waist coat ed 170
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
police—were about t he house for a week or t wo, and did pret t y m uch what I have heard and read of like aut horit ies doing in ot her such cases. They t ook up several obviously wrong people, and t hey ran t heir heads very hard against wrong ideas, and persist ed in t rying t o fit t he circum st ances t o t he ideas, inst ead of t rying t o ext ract ideas from t he circum st ances. Also, t hey st ood about t he door of t he Jolly Bargem en, wit h knowing and reserved looks t hat filled t he whole neighbourhood wit h adm irat ion; and t hey had a m yst erious m anner of t aking t heir drink, t hat was alm ost as good as t aking t he culprit . But not quit e, for t hey never did it . Long aft er t hese const it ut ional powers had dispersed, m y sist er lay very ill in bed. Her sight was dist urbed, so t hat she saw obj ect s m ult iplied, and grasped at visionary t eacups and wine- glasses inst ead of t he realit ies; her hearing was great ly im paired; her m em ory also; and her speech was unint elligible. When, at last , she cam e round so far as t o be helped down- st airs, it was st ill necessary t o keep m y slat e always by her, t hat she m ight indicat e in writ ing what she could not indicat e in speech. As she was ( very bad handwrit ing apart ) a m ore t han indifferent speller, and as Joe was a m ore t han indifferent reader, ext raordinary com plicat ions arose bet ween t hem , which I was always called in t o solve. The adm inist rat ion of m ut t on inst ead of m edicine, t he subst it ut ion of Tea for Joe, and t he baker for bacon, were am ong t he m ildest of m y own m ist akes. However, her t em per was great ly im proved, and she was pat ient . A t rem ulous uncert aint y of t he act ion of all her lim bs soon becam e a part of her regular st at e, and aft erwards, at 171
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
int ervals of t wo or t hree m ont hs, she would oft en put her hands t o her head, and would t hen rem ain for about a week at a t im e in som e gloom y aberrat ion of m ind. We were at a loss t o find a suit able at t endant for her, unt il a circum st ance happened convenient ly t o relieve us. Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt conquered a confirm ed habit of living int o which she had fallen, and Biddy becam e a part of our est ablishm ent . I t m ay have been about a m ont h aft er m y sist er's reappearance in t he kit chen, when Biddy cam e t o us wit h a sm all speckled box cont aining t he whole of her worldly effect s, and becam e a blessing t o t he household. Above all, she was a blessing t o Joe, for t he dear old fellow was sadly cut up by t he const ant cont em plat ion of t he wreck of his wife, and had been accust om ed, while at t ending on her of an evening, t o t urn t o m e every now and t hen and say, wit h his blue eyes m oist ened, “ Such a fine figure of a wom an as she once were, Pip! ” Biddy inst ant ly t aking t he cleverest charge of her as t hough she had st udied her from infancy, Joe becam e able in som e sort t o appreciat e t he great er quiet of his life, and t o get down t o t he Jolly Bargem en now and t hen for a change t hat did him good. I t was charact erist ic of t he police people t hat t hey had all m ore or less suspect ed poor Joe ( t hough he never knew it ) , and t hat t hey had t o a m an concurred in regarding him as one of t he deepest spirit s t hey had ever encount ered. Biddy's first t rium ph in her new office, was t o solve a difficult y t hat had com plet ely vanquished m e. I had t ried hard at it , but had m ade not hing of it . Thus it was: 172
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Again and again and again, m y sist er had t raced upon t he slat e, a charact er t hat looked like a curious T, and t hen wit h t he ut m ost eagerness had called our at t ent ion t o it as som et hing she part icularly want ed. I had in vain t ried everyt hing producible t hat began wit h a T, from t ar t o t oast and t ub. At lengt h it had com e int o m y head t hat t he sign looked like a ham m er, and on m y lust ily calling t hat word in m y sist er's ear, she had begun t o ham m er on t he t able and had expressed a qualified assent . Thereupon, I had brought in all our ham m ers, one aft er anot her, but wit hout avail. Then I bet hought m e of a crut ch, t he shape being m uch t he sam e, and I borrowed one in t he village, and displayed it t o m y sist er wit h considerable confidence. But she shook her head t o t hat ext ent when she was shown it , t hat we were t errified lest in her weak and shat t ered st at e she should dislocat e her neck. When m y sist er found t hat Biddy was very quick t o underst and her, t his m yst erious sign reappeared on t he slat e. Biddy looked t hought fully at it , heard m y explanat ion, looked t hought fully at m y sist er, looked t hought fully at Joe ( who was always represent ed on t he slat e by his init ial let t er) , and ran int o t he forge, followed by Joe and m e. “ Why, of course! ” cried Biddy, wit h an exult ant face. “ Don't you see? I t 's him ! ” Orlick, wit hout a doubt ! She had lost his nam e, and could only signify him by his ham m er. We t old him why we want ed him t o com e int o t he kit chen, and he slowly laid down his ham m er, wiped his brow wit h his arm , t ook anot her wipe at it 173
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit h his apron, and cam e slouching out , wit h a curious loose vagabond bend in t he knees t hat st rongly dist inguished him . I confess t hat I expect ed t o see m y sist er denounce him , and t hat I was disappoint ed by t he different result . She m anifest ed t he great est anxiet y t o be on good t erm s wit h him , was evident ly m uch pleased by his being at lengt h produced, and m ot ioned t hat she would have him given som et hing t o drink. She wat ched his count enance as if she were part icularly wishful t o be assured t hat he t ook kindly t o his recept ion, she showed every possible desire t o conciliat e him , and t here was an air of hum ble propit iat ion in all she did, such as I have seen pervade t he bearing of a child t owards a hard m ast er. Aft er t hat day, a day rarely passed wit hout her drawing t he ham m er on her slat e, and wit hout Orlick's slouching in and st anding doggedly before her, as if he knew no m ore t han I did what t o m ake of it .
174
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 17 I now fell int o a regular rout ine of apprent iceship life, which was varied, beyond t he lim it s of t he village and t he m arshes, by no m ore rem arkable circum st ance t han t he arrival of m y birt hday and m y paying anot her visit t o Miss Havisham . I found Miss Sarah Pocket st ill on dut y at t he gat e, I found Miss Havisham j ust as I had left her, and she spoke of Est ella in t he very sam e way, if not in t he very sam e words. The int erview last ed but a few m inut es, and she gave m e a guinea when I was going, and t old m e t o com e again on m y next birt hday. I m ay m ent ion at once t hat t his becam e an annual cust om . I t ried t o decline t aking t he guinea on t he first occasion, but wit h no bet t er effect t han causing her t o ask m e very angrily, if I expect ed m ore? Then, and aft er t hat , I t ook it . So unchanging was t he dull old house, t he yellow light in t he darkened room , t he faded spect re in t he chair by t he dressing- t able glass, t hat I felt as if t he st opping of t he clocks had st opped Tim e in t hat m yst erious place, and, while I and everyt hing else out side it grew older, it st ood st ill. Daylight never ent ered t he house as t o m y t hought s and rem em brances of it , any m ore t han as t o t he act ual fact . I t bewildered m e, and under it s influence I cont inued at heart t o hat e m y t rade and t o be asham ed of hom e. I m percept ibly I becam e conscious of a change in Biddy, however. Her shoes cam e up at t he heel, her hair grew bright and neat , her hands were always clean. She was not 175
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
beaut iful—she was com m on, and could not be like Est ella— but she was pleasant and wholesom e and sweet - t em pered. She had not been wit h us m ore t han a year ( I rem em ber her being newly out of m ourning at t he t im e it st ruck m e) , when I observed t o m yself one evening t hat she had curiously t hought ful and at t ent ive eyes; eyes t hat were very pret t y and very good. I t cam e of m y lift ing up m y own eyes from a t ask I was poring at —writ ing som e passages from a book, t o im prove m yself in t wo ways at once by a sort of st rat agem —and seeing Biddy observant of what I was about . I laid down m y pen, and Biddy st opped in her needlework wit hout laying it down. “ Biddy,” said I , “ how do you m anage it ? Eit her I am very st upid, or you are very clever.” “ What is it t hat I m anage? I don't know,” ret urned Biddy, sm iling. She m anaged our whole dom est ic life, and wonderfully t oo; but I did not m ean t hat , t hough t hat m ade what I did m ean, m ore surprising. “ How do you m anage, Biddy,” said I , “ t o learn everyt hing t hat I learn, and always t o keep up wit h m e?” I was beginning t o be rat her vain of m y knowledge, for I spent m y birt hday guineas on it , and set aside t he great er part of m y pocket m oney for sim ilar invest m ent ; t hough I have no doubt , now, t hat t he lit t le I knew was ext rem ely dear at t he price. “ I m ight as well ask you,” said Biddy, “ how you m anage?”
176
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No; because when I com e in from t he forge of a night , any one can see m e t urning t o at it . But you never t urn t o at it , Biddy.” “ I suppose I m ust cat ch it —like a cough,” said Biddy, quiet ly; and went on wit h her sewing. Pursuing m y idea as I leaned back in m y wooden chair and looked at Biddy sewing away wit h her head on one side, I began t o t hink her rat her an ext raordinary girl. For, I called t o m ind now, t hat she was equally accom plished in t he t erm s of our t rade, and t he nam es of our different sort s of work, and our various t ools. I n short , what ever I knew, Biddy knew. Theoret ically, she was already as good a blacksm it h as I , or bet t er. “ You are one of t hose, Biddy,” said I , “ who m ake t he m ost of every chance. You never had a chance before you cam e here, and see how im proved you are! ” Biddy looked at m e for an inst ant , and went on wit h her sewing. “ I was your first t eacher t hough; wasn't I ?” said she, as she sewed. “ Biddy! ” I exclaim ed, in am azem ent . “ Why, you are crying! ” “ No I am not ,” said Biddy, looking up and laughing. “ What put t hat in your head?” What could have put it in m y head, but t he glist ening of a t ear as it dropped on her work? I sat silent , recalling what a drudge she had been unt il Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt successfully overcam e t hat bad habit of living, so highly desirable t o be got rid of by som e people. I recalled t he hopeless circum st ances by which she had been surrounded in 177
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he m iserable lit t le shop and t he m iserable lit t le noisy evening school, wit h t hat m iserable old bundle of incom pet ence always t o be dragged and shouldered. I reflect ed t hat even in t hose unt oward t im es t here m ust have been lat ent in Biddy what was now developing, for, in m y first uneasiness and discont ent I had t urned t o her for help, as a m at t er of course. Biddy sat quiet ly sewing, shedding no m ore t ears, and while I looked at her and t hought about it all, it occurred t o m e t hat perhaps I had not been sufficient ly grat eful t o Biddy. I m ight have been t oo reserved, and should have pat ronized her m ore ( t hough I did not use t hat precise word in m y m edit at ions) , wit h m y confidence. “ Yes, Biddy,” I observed, when I had done t urning it over, “ you were m y first t eacher, and t hat at a t im e when we lit t le t hought of ever being t oget her like t his, in t his kit chen.” “ Ah, poor t hing! ” replied Biddy. I t was like her selfforget fulness, t o t ransfer t he rem ark t o m y sist er, and t o get up and be busy about her, m aking her m ore com fort able; “ t hat 's sadly t rue! ” “ Well! ” said I , “ we m ust t alk t oget her a lit t le m ore, as we used t o do. And I m ust consult you a lit t le m ore, as I used t o do. Let us have a quiet walk on t he m arshes next Sunday, Biddy, and a long chat .” My sist er was never left alone now; but Joe m ore t han readily undert ook t he care of her on t hat Sunday aft ernoon, and Biddy and I went out t oget her. I t was sum m er- t im e, and lovely weat her. When we had passed t he village and t he church and t he churchyard, and were out on t he m arshes and began t o see t he sails of t he ships as t hey sailed on, I began 178
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o com bine Miss Havisham and Est ella wit h t he prospect , in m y usual way. When we cam e t o t he river- side and sat down on t he bank, wit h t he wat er rippling at our feet , m aking it all m ore quiet t han it would have been wit hout t hat sound, I resolved t hat it was a good t im e and place for t he adm ission of Biddy int o m y inner confidence. “ Biddy,” said I , aft er binding her t o secrecy, “ I want t o be a gent lem an.” “ Oh, I wouldn't , if I was you! ” she ret urned. “ I don't t hink it would answer.” “ Biddy,” said I , wit h som e severit y, “ I have part icular reasons for want ing t o be a gent lem an.” “ You know best , Pip; but don't you t hink you are happier as you are?” “ Biddy,” I exclaim ed, im pat ient ly, “ I am not at all happy as I am . I am disgust ed wit h m y calling and wit h m y life. I have never t aken t o eit her, since I was bound. Don't be absurd.” “ Was I absurd?” said Biddy, quiet ly raising her eyebrows; “ I am sorry for t hat ; I didn't m ean t o be. I only want you t o do well, and t o be com fort able.” “ Well t hen, underst and once for all t hat I never shall or can be com fort able—or anyt hing but m iserable—t here, Biddy! —unless I can lead a very different sort of life from t he life I lead now.” “ That 's a pit y! ” said Biddy, shaking her head wit h a sorrowful air. Now, I t oo had so oft en t hought it a pit y, t hat , in t he singular kind of quarrel wit h m yself which I was always carrying on, I was half inclined t o shed t ears of vexat ion and 179
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
dist ress when Biddy gave ut t erance t o her sent im ent and m y own. I t old her she was right , and I knew it was m uch t o be regret t ed, but st ill it was not t o be helped. “ I f I could have set t led down,” I said t o Biddy, plucking up t he short grass wit hin reach, m uch as I had once upon a t im e pulled m y feelings out of m y hair and kicked t hem int o t he brewery wall: “ if I could have set t led down and been but half as fond of t he forge as I was when I was lit t le, I know it would have been m uch bet t er for m e. You and I and Joe would have want ed not hing t hen, and Joe and I would perhaps have gone part ners when I was out of m y t im e, and I m ight even have grown up t o keep com pany wit h you, and we m ight have sat on t his very bank on a fine Sunday, quit e different people. I should have been good enough for you; shouldn't I , Biddy?” Biddy sighed as she looked at t he ships sailing on, and ret urned for answer, “ Yes; I am not over- part icular.” I t scarcely sounded flat t ering, but I knew she m eant well. “ I nst ead of t hat ,” said I , plucking up m ore grass and chewing a blade or t wo, “ see how I am going on. Dissat isfied, and uncom fort able, and—what would it signify t o m e, being coarse and com m on, if nobody had t old m e so! ” Biddy t urned her face suddenly t owards m ine, and looked far m ore at t ent ively at m e t han she had looked at t he sailing ships. “ I t was neit her a very t rue nor a very polit e t hing t o say,” she rem arked, direct ing her eyes t o t he ships again. “ Who said it ?” 180
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I was disconcert ed, for I had broken away wit hout quit e seeing where I was going t o. I t was not t o be shuffled off now, however, and I answered, “ The beaut iful young lady at Miss Havisham 's, and she's m ore beaut iful t han anybody ever was, and I adm ire her dreadfully, and I want t o be a gent lem an on her account .” Having m ade t his lunat ic confession, I began t o t hrow m y t orn- up grass int o t he river, as if I had som e t hought s of following it . “ Do you want t o be a gent lem an, t o spit e her or t o gain her over?” Biddy quiet ly asked m e, aft er a pause. “ I don't know,” I m oodily answered. “ Because, if it is t o spit e her,” Biddy pursued, “ I should t hink—but you know best —t hat m ight be bet t er and m ore independent ly done by caring not hing for her words. And if it is t o gain her over, I should t hink—but you know best —she was not wort h gaining over.” Exact ly what I m yself had t hought , m any t im es. Exact ly what was perfect ly m anifest t o m e at t he m om ent . But how could I , a poor dazed village lad, avoid t hat wonderful inconsist ency int o which t he best and wisest of m en fall every day? “ I t m ay be all quit e t rue,” said I t o Biddy, “ but I adm ire her dreadfully.” I n short , I t urned over on m y face when I cam e t o t hat , and got a good grasp on t he hair on each side of m y head, and wrenched it well. All t he while knowing t he m adness of m y heart t o be so very m ad and m isplaced, t hat I was quit e conscious it would have served m y face right , if I had lift ed it 181
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
up by m y hair, and knocked it against t he pebbles as a punishm ent for belonging t o such an idiot . Biddy was t he wisest of girls, and she t ried t o reason no m ore wit h m e. She put her hand, which was a com fort able hand t hough roughened by work, upon m y hands, one aft er anot her, and gent ly t ook t hem out of m y hair. Then she soft ly pat t ed m y shoulder in a soot hing way, while wit h m y face upon m y sleeve I cried a lit t le—exact ly as I had done in t he brewery yard—and felt vaguely convinced t hat I was very m uch ill- used by som ebody, or by everybody; I can't say which. “ I am glad of one t hing,” said Biddy, “ and t hat is, t hat you have felt you could give m e your confidence, Pip. And I am glad of anot her t hing, and t hat is, t hat of course you know you m ay depend upon m y keeping it and always so far deserving it . I f your first t eacher ( dear! such a poor one, and so m uch in need of being t aught herself! ) had been your t eacher at t he present t im e, she t hinks she knows what lesson she would set . But I t would be a hard one t o learn, and you have got beyond her, and it 's of no use now.” So, wit h a quiet sigh for m e, Biddy rose from t he bank, and said, wit h a fresh and pleasant change of voice, “ Shall we walk a lit t le furt her, or go hom e?” “ Biddy,” I cried, get t ing up, put t ing m y arm round her neck, and giving her a kiss, “ I shall always t ell you everyt hing.” “ Till you're a gent lem an,” said Biddy.
182
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You know I never shall be, so t hat 's always. Not t hat I have any occasion t o t ell you anyt hing, for you know everyt hing I know—as I t old you at hom e t he ot her night .” “ Ah! ” said Biddy, quit e in a whisper, as she looked away at t he ships. And t hen repeat ed, wit h her form er pleasant change; “ shall we walk a lit t le furt her, or go hom e?” I said t o Biddy we would walk a lit t le furt her, and we did so, and t he sum m er aft ernoon t oned down int o t he sum m er evening, and it was very beaut iful. I began t o consider whet her I was not m ore nat urally and wholesom ely sit uat ed, aft er all, in t hese circum st ances, t han playing beggar m y neighbour by candlelight in t he room wit h t he st opped clocks, and being despised by Est ella. I t hought it would be very good for m e if I could get her out of m y head, wit h all t he rest of t hose rem em brances and fancies, and could go t o work det erm ined t o relish what I had t o do, and st ick t o it , and m ake t he best of it . I asked m yself t he quest ion whet her I did not surely know t hat if Est ella were beside m e at t hat m om ent inst ead of Biddy, she would m ake m e m iserable? I was obliged t o adm it t hat I did know it for a cert aint y, and I said t o m yself, “ Pip, what a fool you are! ” We t alked a good deal as we walked, and all t hat Biddy said seem ed right . Biddy was never insult ing, or capricious, or Biddy t o- day and som ebody else t o- m orrow; she would have derived only pain, and no pleasure, from giving m e pain; she would far rat her have wounded her own breast t han m ine. How could it be, t hen, t hat I did not like her m uch t he bet t er of t he t wo? 183
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Biddy,” said I , when we were walking hom eward, “ I wish you could put m e right .” “ I wish I could! ” said Biddy. “ I f I could only get m yself t o fall in love wit h you—you don't m ind m y speaking so openly t o such an old acquaint ance?” “ Oh dear, not at all! ” said Biddy. “ Don't m ind m e.” “ I f I could only get m yself t o do it , t hat would be t he t hing for m e.” “ But you never will, you see,” said Biddy. I t did not appear quit e so unlikely t o m e t hat evening, as it would have done if we had discussed it a few hours before. I t herefore observed I was not quit e sure of t hat . But Biddy said she was, and she said it decisively. I n m y heart I believed her t o be right ; and yet I t ook it rat her ill, t oo, t hat she should be so posit ive on t he point . When we cam e near t he churchyard, we had t o cross an em bankm ent , and get over a st ile near a sluice gat e. There st art ed up, from t he gat e, or from t he rushes, or from t he ooze ( which was quit e in his st agnant way) , Old Orlick. “ Halloa! ” he growled, “ where are you t wo going?” “ Where should we be going, but hom e?” “ Well t hen,” said he, “ I 'm j iggered if I don't see you hom e! ” This penalt y of being j iggered was a favourit e supposit it ious case of his. He at t ached no definit e m eaning t o t he word t hat I am aware of, but used it , like his own pret ended Christ ian nam e, t o affront m ankind, and convey an idea of som et hing savagely dam aging. When I was younger, I 184
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
had had a general belief t hat if he had j iggered m e personally, he would have done it wit h a sharp and t wist ed hook. Biddy was m uch against his going wit h us, and said t o m e in a whisper, “ Don't let him com e; I don't like him .” As I did not like him eit her, I t ook t he libert y of saying t hat we t hanked him , but we didn't want seeing hom e. He received t hat piece of inform at ion wit h a yell of laught er, and dropped back, but cam e slouching aft er us at a lit t le dist ance. Curious t o know whet her Biddy suspect ed him of having had a hand in t hat m urderous at t ack of which m y sist er had never been able t o give any account , I asked her why she did not like him . “ Oh! ” she replied, glancing over her shoulder as he slouched aft er us, “ because I —I am afraid he likes m e.” “ Did he ever t ell you he liked you?” I asked, indignant ly. “ No,” said Biddy, glancing over her shoulder again, “ he never t old m e so; but he dances at m e, whenever he can cat ch m y eye.” However novel and peculiar t his t est im ony of at t achm ent , I did not doubt t he accuracy of t he int erpret at ion. I was very hot indeed upon Old Orlick's daring t o adm ire her; as hot as if it were an out rage on m yself. “ But it m akes no difference t o you, you know,” said Biddy, calm ly. “ No, Biddy, it m akes no difference t o m e; only I don't like it ; I don't approve of it .” “ Nor I neit her,” said Biddy. “ Though t hat m akes no difference t o you.” 185
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Exact ly,” said I ; “ but I m ust t ell you I should have no opinion of you, Biddy, if he danced at you wit h your own consent .” I kept an eye on Orlick aft er t hat night , and, whenever circum st ances were favourable t o his dancing at Biddy, got before him , t o obscure t hat dem onst rat ion. He had st ruck root in Joe's est ablishm ent , by reason of m y sist er's sudden fancy for him , or I should have t ried t o get him dism issed. He quit e underst ood and reciprocat ed m y good int ent ions, as I had reason t o know t hereaft er. And now, because m y m ind was not confused enough before, I com plicat ed it s confusion fift y t housand- fold, by having st at es and seasons when I was clear t hat Biddy was im m easurably bet t er t han Est ella, and t hat t he plain honest working life t o which I was born, had not hing in it t o be asham ed of, but offered m e sufficient m eans of self- respect and happiness. At t hose t im es, I would decide conclusively t hat m y disaffect ion t o dear old Joe and t he forge, was gone, and t hat I was growing up in a fair way t o be part ners wit h Joe and t o keep com pany wit h Biddy—when all in a m om ent som e confounding rem em brance of t he Havisham days would fall upon m e, like a dest ruct ive m issile, and scat t er m y wit s again. Scat t ered wit s t ake a long t im e picking up; and oft en, before I had got t hem well t oget her, t hey would be dispersed in all direct ions by one st ray t hought , t hat perhaps aft er all Miss Havisham was going t o m ake m y fort une when m y t im e was out . I f m y t im e had run out , it would have left m e st ill at t he height of m y perplexit ies, I dare say. I t never did run out , 186
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
however, but was brought t o a prem at ure end, as I proceed t o relat e.
187
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 18 I t was in t he fourt h year of m y apprent iceship t o Joe, and it was a Sat urday night . There was a group assem bled round t he fire at t he Three Jolly Bargem en, at t ent ive t o Mr. Wopsle as he read t he newspaper aloud. Of t hat group I was one. A highly popular m urder had been com m it t ed, and Mr. Wopsle was im brued in blood t o t he eyebrows. He gloat ed over every abhorrent adj ect ive in t he descript ion, and ident ified him self wit h every wit ness at t he I nquest . He faint ly m oaned, “ I am done for,” as t he vict im , and he barbarously bellowed, “ I 'll serve you out ,” as t he m urderer. He gave t he m edical t est im ony, in point ed im it at ion of our local pract it ioner; and he piped and shook, as t he aged t urnpikekeeper who had heard blows, t o an ext ent so very paralyt ic as t o suggest a doubt regarding t he m ent al com pet ency of t hat wit ness. The coroner, in Mr. Wopsle's hands, becam e Tim on of At hens; t he beadle, Coriolanus. He enj oyed him self t horoughly, and we all enj oyed ourselves, and were delight fully com fort able. I n t his cozy st at e of m ind we cam e t o t he verdict Wilful Murder. Then, and not sooner, I becam e aware of a st range gent lem an leaning over t he back of t he set t le opposit e m e, looking on. There was an expression of cont em pt on his face, and he bit t he side of a great forefinger as he wat ched t he group of faces.
188
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Well! ” said t he st ranger t o Mr. Wopsle, when t he reading was done, “ you have set t led it all t o your own sat isfact ion, I have no doubt ?” Everybody st art ed and looked up, as if it were t he m urderer. He looked at everybody coldly and sarcast ically. “ Guilt y, of course?” said he. “ Out wit h it . Com e! ” “ Sir,” ret urned Mr. Wopsle, “ wit hout having t he honour of your acquaint ance, I do say Guilt y.” Upon t his, we all t ook courage t o unit e in a confirm at ory m urm ur. “ I know you do,” said t he st ranger; “ I knew you would. I t old you so. But now I 'll ask you a quest ion. Do you know, or do you not know, t hat t he law of England supposes every m an t o be innocent , unt il he is proved—proved—t o be guilt y?” “ Sir,” Mr. Wopsle began t o reply, “ as an Englishm an m yself, I —” “ Com e! ” said t he st ranger, bit ing his forefinger at him . “ Don't evade t he quest ion. Eit her you know it , or you don't know it . Which is it t o be?” He st ood wit h his head on one side and him self on one side, in a bullying int errogat ive m anner, and he t hrew his forefinger at Mr. Wopsle—as it were t o m ark him out —before bit ing it again. “ Now! ” said he. “ Do you know it , or don't you know it ?” “ Cert ainly I know it ,” replied Mr. Wopsle. “ Cert ainly you know it . Then why didn't you say so at first ? Now, I 'll ask you anot her quest ion; ” t aking possession of Mr. Wopsle, as if he had a right t o him . “ Do you know t hat none of t hese wit nesses have yet been cross- exam ined?” 189
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Mr. Wopsle was beginning, “ I can only say—” when t he st ranger st opped him . “ What ? You won't answer t he quest ion, yes or no? Now, I 'll t ry you again.” Throwing his finger at him again. “ At t end t o m e. Are you aware, or are you not aware, t hat none of t hese wit nesses have yet been cross- exam ined? Com e, I only want one word from you. Yes, or no?” Mr. Wopsle hesit at ed, and we all began t o conceive rat her a poor opinion of him . “ Com e! ” said t he st ranger, “ I 'll help you. You don't deserve help, but I 'll help you. Look at t hat paper you hold in your hand. What is it ?” “ What is it ?” repeat ed Mr. Wopsle, eyeing it , m uch at a loss. “ I s it ,” pursued t he st ranger in his m ost sarcast ic and suspicious m anner, “ t he print ed paper you have j ust been reading from ?” “ Undoubt edly.” “ Undoubt edly. Now, t urn t o t hat paper, and t ell m e whet her it dist inct ly st at es t hat t he prisoner expressly said t hat his legal advisers inst ruct ed him alt oget her t o reserve his defence?” “ I read t hat j ust now,” Mr. Wopsle pleaded. “ Never m ind what you read j ust now, sir; I don't ask you what you read j ust now. You m ay read t he Lord's Prayer backwards, if you like—and, perhaps, have done it before t oday. Turn t o t he paper. No, no, no m y friend; not t o t he t op of t he colum n; you know bet t er t han t hat ; t o t he bot t om , t o 190
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he bot t om .” ( We all began t o t hink Mr. Wopsle full of subt erfuge.) “ Well? Have you found it ?” “ Here it is,” said Mr. Wopsle. “ Now, follow t hat passage wit h your eye, and t ell m e whet her it dist inct ly st at es t hat t he prisoner expressly said t hat he was inst ruct ed by his legal advisers wholly t o reserve his defence? Com e! Do you m ake t hat of it ?” Mr. Wopsle answered, “ Those are not t he exact words.” “ Not t he exact words! ” repeat ed t he gent lem an, bit t erly. “ I s t hat t he exact subst ance?” “ Yes,” said Mr. Wopsle. “ Yes,” repeat ed t he st ranger, looking round at t he rest of t he com pany wit h his right hand ext ended t owards t he wit ness, Wopsle. “ And now I ask you what you say t o t he conscience of t hat m an who, wit h t hat passage before his eyes, can lay his head upon his pillow aft er having pronounced a fellow- creat ure guilt y, unheard?” We all began t o suspect t hat Mr. Wopsle was not t he m an we had t hought him , and t hat he was beginning t o be found out . “ And t hat sam e m an, rem em ber,” pursued t he gent lem an, t hrowing his finger at Mr. Wopsle heavily; “ t hat sam e m an m ight be sum m oned as a j urym an upon t his very t rial, and, having t hus deeply com m it t ed him self, m ight ret urn t o t he bosom of his fam ily and lay his head upon his pillow, aft er deliberat ely swearing t hat he would well and t ruly t ry t he issue j oined bet ween Our Sovereign Lord t he King and t he prisoner at t he bar, and would a t rue verdict give according t o t he evidence, so help him God! ” 191
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
We were all deeply persuaded t hat t he unfort unat e Wopsle had gone t oo far, and had bet t er st op in his reckless career while t here was yet t im e. The st range gent lem an, wit h an air of aut horit y not t o be disput ed, and wit h a m anner expressive of knowing som et hing secret about every one of us t hat would effect ually do for each individual if he chose t o disclose it , left t he back of t he set t le, and cam e int o t he space bet ween t he t wo set t les, in front of t he fire, where he rem ained st anding: his left hand in his pocket , and he bit ing t he forefinger of his right . “ From inform at ion I have received,” said he, looking round at us as we all quailed before him , “ I have reason t o believe t here is a blacksm it h am ong you, by nam e Joseph—or Joe— Gargery. Which is t he m an?” “ Here is t he m an,” said Joe. The st range gent lem an beckoned him out of his place, and Joe went . “ You have an apprent ice,” pursued t he st ranger, “ com m only known as Pip? I s he here?” “ I am here! ” I cried. The st ranger did not recognize m e, but I recognized him as t he gent lem an I had m et on t he st airs, on t he occasion of m y second visit t o Miss Havisham . I had known him t he m om ent I saw him looking over t he set t le, and now t hat I st ood confront ing him wit h his hand upon m y shoulder, I checked off again in det ail, his large head, his dark com plexion, his deep- set eyes, his bushy black eyebrows, his large wat ch192
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
chain, his st rong black dot s of beard and whisker, and even t he sm ell of scent ed soap on his great hand. “ I wish t o have a privat e conference wit h you t wo,” said he, when he had surveyed m e at his leisure. “ I t will t ake a lit t le t im e. Perhaps we had bet t er go t o your place of residence. I prefer not t o ant icipat e m y com m unicat ion here; you will im part as m uch or as lit t le of it as you please t o your friends aft erwards; I have not hing t o do wit h t hat .” Am idst a wondering silence, we t hree walked out of t he Jolly Bargem en, and in a wondering silence walked hom e. While going along, t he st range gent lem an occasionally looked at m e, and occasionally bit t he side of his finger. As we neared hom e, Joe vaguely acknowledging t he occasion as an im pressive and cerem onious one, went on ahead t o open t he front door. Our conference was held in t he st at e parlour, which was feebly light ed by one candle. I t began wit h t he st range gent lem an's sit t ing down at t he t able, drawing t he candle t o him , and looking over som e ent ries in his pocket - book. He t hen put up t he pocket - book and set t he candle a lit t le aside: aft er peering round it int o t he darkness at Joe and m e, t o ascert ain which was which. “ My nam e,” he said, “ is Jaggers, and I am a lawyer in London. I am pret t y well known. I have unusual business t o t ransact wit h you, and I com m ence by explaining t hat it is not of m y originat ing. I f m y advice had been asked, I should not have been here. I t was not asked, and you see m e here. What I have t o do as t he confident ial agent of anot her, I do. No less, no m ore.” 193
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Finding t hat he could not see us very well from where he sat , he got up, and t hrew one leg over t he back of a chair and leaned upon it ; t hus having one foot on t he seat of t he chair, and one foot on t he ground. “ Now, Joseph Gargery, I am t he bearer of an offer t o relieve you of t his young fellow your apprent ice. You would not obj ect t o cancel his indent ures, at his request and for his good? You would want not hing for so doing?” “ Lord forbid t hat I should want anyt hing for not st anding in Pip's way,” said Joe, st aring. “ Lord forbidding is pious, but not t o t he purpose,” ret urned Mr Jaggers. “ The quest ion is, Would you want anyt hing? Do you want anyt hing?” “ The answer is,” ret urned Joe, st ernly, “ No.” I t hought Mr. Jaggers glanced at Joe, as if he considered him a fool for his disint erest edness. But I was t oo m uch bewildered bet ween breat hless curiosit y and surprise, t o be sure of it . “ Very well,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Recollect t he adm ission you have m ade, and don't t ry t o go from it present ly.” “ Who's a- going t o t ry?” ret ort ed Joe. “ I don't say anybody is. Do you keep a dog?” “ Yes, I do keep a dog.” “ Bear in m ind t hen, t hat Brag is a good dog, but Holdfast is a bet t er. Bear t hat in m ind, will you?” repeat ed Mr. Jaggers, shut t ing his eyes and nodding his head at Joe, as if he were forgiving him som et hing. “ Now, I ret urn t o t his young fellow. And t he com m unicat ion I have got t o m ake is, t hat he has great expect at ions.” 194
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Joe and I gasped, and looked at one anot her. “ I am inst ruct ed t o com m unicat e t o him ,” said Mr. Jaggers, t hrowing his finger at m e sideways, “ t hat he will com e int o a handsom e propert y. Furt her, t hat it is t he desire of t he present possessor of t hat propert y, t hat he be im m ediat ely rem oved from his present sphere of life and from t his place, and be brought up as a gent lem an—in a word, as a young fellow of great expect at ions.” My dream was out ; m y wild fancy was surpassed by sober realit y; Miss Havisham was going t o m ake m y fort une on a grand scale. “ Now, Mr. Pip,” pursued t he lawyer, “ I address t he rest of what I have t o say, t o you. You are t o underst and, first , t hat it is t he request of t he person from whom I t ake m y inst ruct ions, t hat you always bear t he nam e of Pip. You will have no obj ect ion, I dare say, t o your great expect at ions being encum bered wit h t hat easy condit ion. But if you have any obj ect ion, t his is t he t im e t o m ent ion it .” My heart was beat ing so fast , and t here was such a singing in m y ears, t hat I could scarcely st am m er I had no obj ect ion. “ I should t hink not ! Now you are t o underst and, secondly, Mr. Pip, t hat t he nam e of t he person who is your liberal benefact or rem ains a profound secret , unt il t he person chooses t o reveal it . I am em powered t o m ent ion t hat it is t he int ent ion of t he person t o reveal it at first hand by word of m out h t o yourself. When or where t hat int ent ion m ay be carried out , I cannot say; no one can say. I t m ay be years hence. Now, you are dist inct ly t o underst and t hat you are m ost posit ively prohibit ed from m aking any inquiry on t his 195
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
head, or any allusion or reference, however dist ant , t o any individual whom soever as t he individual, in all t he com m unicat ions you m ay have wit h m e. I f you have a suspicion in your own breast , keep t hat suspicion in your own breast . I t is not t he least t o t he purpose what t he reasons of t his prohibit ion are; t hey m ay be t he st rongest and gravest reasons, or t hey m ay be m ere whim . This is not for you t o inquire int o. The condit ion is laid down. Your accept ance of it , and your observance of it as binding, is t he only rem aining condit ion t hat I am charged wit h, by t he person from whom I t ake m y inst ruct ions, and for whom I am not ot herwise responsible. That person is t he person from whom you derive your expect at ions, and t he secret is solely held by t hat person and by m e. Again, not a very difficult condit ion wit h which t o encum ber such a rise in fort une; but if you have any obj ect ion t o it , t his is t he t im e t o m ent ion it . Speak out .” Once m ore, I st am m ered wit h difficult y t hat I had no obj ect ion. “ I should t hink not ! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done wit h st ipulat ions.” Though he called m e Mr. Pip, and began rat her t o m ake up t o m e, he st ill could not get rid of a cert ain air of bullying suspicion; and even now he occasionally shut his eyes and t hrew his finger at m e while he spoke, as m uch as t o express t hat he knew all kinds of t hings t o m y disparagem ent , if he only chose t o m ent ion t hem . “ We com e next , t o m ere det ails of arrangem ent . You m ust know t hat , alt hough I have used t he t erm “ expect at ions” m ore t han once, you are not endowed wit h expect at ions only. There is already lodged in m y hands, a sum of m oney am ply sufficient 196
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
for your suit able educat ion and m aint enance. You will please consider m e your guardian. Oh! ” for I was going t o t hank him , “ I t ell you at once, I am paid for m y services, or I shouldn't render t hem . I t is considered t hat you m ust be bet t er educat ed, in accordance wit h your alt ered posit ion, and t hat you will be alive t o t he im port ance and necessit y of at once ent ering on t hat advant age.” I said I had always longed for it . “ Never m ind what you have always longed for, Mr. Pip,” he ret ort ed; “ keep t o t he record. I f you long for it now, t hat 's enough. Am I answered t hat you are ready t o be placed at once, under som e proper t ut or? I s t hat it ?” I st am m ered yes, t hat was it . “ Good. Now, your inclinat ions are t o be consult ed. I don't t hink t hat wise, m ind, but it 's m y t rust . Have you ever heard of any t ut or whom you would prefer t o anot her?” I had never heard of any t ut or but Biddy and Mr. Wopsle's great aunt ; so, I replied in t he negat ive. “ There is a cert ain t ut or, of whom I have som e knowledge, who I t hink m ight suit t he purpose,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ I don't recom m end him , observe; because I never recom m end anybody. The gent lem an I speak of, is one Mr. Mat t hew Pocket .” Ah! I caught at t he nam e direct ly. Miss Havisham 's relat ion. The Mat t hew whom Mr. and Mrs. Cam illa had spoken of. The Mat t hew whose place was t o be at Miss Havisham 's head, when she lay dead, in her bride's dress on t he bride's t able. 197
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You know t he nam e?” said Mr. Jaggers, looking shrewdly at m e, and t hen shut t ing up his eyes while he wait ed for m y answer. My answer was, t hat I had heard of t he nam e. “ Oh! ” said he. “ You have heard of t he nam e. But t he quest ion is, what do you say of it ?” I said, or t ried t o say, t hat I was m uch obliged t o him for his recom m endat ion— “ No, m y young friend! ” he int errupt ed, shaking his great head very slowly. “ Recollect yourself! ” Not recollect ing m yself, I began again t hat I was m uch obliged t o him for his recom m endat ion— “ No, m y young friend,” he int errupt ed, shaking his head and frowning and sm iling bot h at once; “ no, no, no; it 's very well done, but it won't do; you are t oo young t o fix m e wit h it . Recom m endat ion is not t he word, Mr. Pip. Try anot her.” Correct ing m yself, I said t hat I was m uch obliged t o him for his m ent ion of Mr. Mat t hew Pocket — “ That 's m ore like it ! ” cried Mr. Jaggers. —And ( I added) , I would gladly t ry t hat gent lem an. “ Good. You had bet t er t ry him in his own house. The way shall be prepared for you, and you can see his son first , who is in London. When will you com e t o London?” I said ( glancing at Joe, who st ood looking on, m ot ionless) , t hat I supposed I could com e direct ly. “ First ,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ you should have som e new clot hes t o com e in, and t hey should not be working clot hes. Say t his day week. You'll want som e m oney. Shall I leave you t went y guineas?” 198
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He produced a long purse, wit h t he great est coolness, and count ed t hem out on t he t able and pushed t hem over t o m e. This was t he first t im e he had t aken his leg from t he chair. He sat ast ride of t he chair when he had pushed t he m oney over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe. “ Well, Joseph Gargery? You look dum bfoundered?” “ I am ! ” said Joe, in a very decided m anner. “ I t was underst ood t hat you want ed not hing for yourself, rem em ber?” “ I t were underst ood,” said Joe. “ And it are underst ood. And it ever will be sim ilar according.” “ But what ,” said Mr. Jaggers, swinging his purse, “ what if it was in m y inst ruct ions t o m ake you a present , as com pensat ion?” “ As com pensat ion what for?” Joe dem anded. “ For t he loss of his services.” Joe laid his hand upon m y shoulder wit h t he t ouch of a wom an. I have oft en t hought him since, like t he st eam ham m er, t hat can crush a m an or pat an egg- shell, in his com binat ion of st rengt h wit h gent leness. “ Pip is t hat heart y welcom e,” said Joe, “ t o go free wit h his services, t o honour and fort un', as no words can t ell him . But if you t hink as Money can m ake com pensat ion t o m e for t he loss of t he lit t le child—what com e t o t he forge—and ever t he best of friends! — ” O dear good Joe, whom I was so ready t o leave and so unt hankful t o, I see you again, wit h your m uscular blacksm it h's arm before your eyes, and your broad chest heaving, and your voice dying away. O dear good fait hful 199
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t ender Joe, I feel t he loving t rem ble of your hand upon m y arm , as solem nly t his day as if it had been t he rust le of an angel's wing! But I encouraged Joe at t he t im e. I was lost in t he m azes of m y fut ure fort unes, and could not ret race t he by- pat hs we had t rodden t oget her. I begged Joe t o be com fort ed, for ( as he said) we had ever been t he best of friends, and ( as I said) we ever would be so. Joe scooped his eyes wit h his disengaged wrist , as if he were bent on gouging him self, but said not anot her word. Mr. Jaggers had looked on at t his, as one who recognized in Joe t he village idiot , and in m e his keeper. When it was over, he said, weighing in his hand t he purse he had ceased t o swing: “ Now, Joseph Gargery, I warn you t his is your last chance. No half m easures wit h m e. I f you m ean t o t ake a present t hat I have it in charge t o m ake you, speak out , and you shall have it . I f on t he cont rary you m ean t o say—” Here, t o his great am azem ent , he was st opped by Joe's suddenly working round him wit h every dem onst rat ion of a fell pugilist ic purpose. “ Which I m eant ersay,” cried Joe, “ t hat if you com e int o m y place bull- bait ing and badgering m e, com e out ! Which I m eant ersay as sech if you're a m an, com e on! Which I m eant ersay t hat what I say, I m eant ersay and st and or fall by! ” I drew Joe away, and he im m ediat ely becam e placable; m erely st at ing t o m e, in an obliging m anner and as a polit e expost ulat ory not ice t o any one whom it m ight happen t o 200
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
concern, t hat he were not a going t o be bull- bait ed and badgered in his own place. Mr. Jaggers had risen when Joe dem onst rat ed, and had backed near t he door. Wit hout evincing any inclinat ion t o com e in again, he t here delivered his valedict ory rem arks. They were t hese: “ Well, Mr. Pip, I t hink t he sooner you leave here—as you are t o be a gent lem an—t he bet t er. Let it st and for t his day week, and you shall receive m y print ed address in t he m eant im e. You can t ake a hackney- coach at t he st age- coach office in London, and com e st raight t o m e. Underst and, t hat I express no opinion, one way or ot her, on t he t rust I undert ake. I am paid for undert aking it , and I do so. Now, underst and t hat , finally. Underst and t hat ! ” He was t hrowing his finger at bot h of us, and I t hink would have gone on, but for his seem ing t o t hink Joe dangerous, and going off. Som et hing cam e int o m y head which induced m e t o run aft er him , as he was going down t o t he Jolly Bargem en where he had left a hired carriage. “ I beg your pardon, Mr. Jaggers.” “ Halloa! ” said he, facing round, “ what 's t he m at t er?” “ I wish t o be quit e right , Mr. Jaggers, and t o keep t o your direct ions; so I t hought I had bet t er ask. Would t here be any obj ect ion t o m y t aking leave of any one I know, about here, before I go away?” “ No,” said he, looking as if he hardly underst ood m e. “ I don't m ean in t he village only, but up- t own?” “ No,” said he. “ No obj ect ion.” 201
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t hanked him and ran hom e again, and t here I found t hat Joe had already locked t he front door and vacat ed t he st at e parlour, and was seat ed by t he kit chen fire wit h a hand on each knee, gazing int ent ly at t he burning coals. I t oo sat down before t he fire and gazed at t he coals, and not hing was said for a long t im e. My sist er was in her cushioned chair in her corner, and Biddy sat at her needlework before t he fire, and Joe sat next Biddy, and I sat next Joe in t he corner opposit e m y sist er. The m ore I looked int o t he glowing coals, t he m ore incapable I becam e of looking at Joe; t he longer t he silence last ed, t he m ore unable I felt t o speak. At lengt h I got out , “ Joe, have you t old Biddy?” “ No, Pip,” ret urned Joe, st ill looking at t he fire, and holding his knees t ight , as if he had privat e inform at ion t hat t hey int ended t o m ake off som ewhere, “ which I left it t o yourself, Pip.” “ I would rat her you t old, Joe.” “ Pip's a gent lem an of fort un’ t hen,” said Joe, “ and God bless him in it ! ” Biddy dropped her work, and looked at m e. Joe held his knees and looked at m e. I looked at bot h of t hem . Aft er a pause, t hey bot h heart ily congrat ulat ed m e; but t here was a cert ain t ouch of sadness in t heir congrat ulat ions, t hat I rat her resent ed. I t ook it upon m yself t o im press Biddy ( and t hrough Biddy, Joe) wit h t he grave obligat ion I considered m y friends under, t o know not hing and say not hing about t he m aker of m y fort une. I t would all com e out in good t im e, I observed, and 202
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in t he m eanwhile not hing was t o be said, save t hat I had com e int o great expect at ions from a m yst erious pat ron. Biddy nodded her head t hought fully at t he fire as she t ook up her work again, and said she would be very part icular; and Joe, st ill det aining his knees, said, “ Ay, ay, I 'll be ekervally part ickler, Pip; ” and t hen t hey congrat ulat ed m e again, and went on t o express so m uch wonder at t he not ion of m y being a gent lem an, t hat I didn't half like it . I nfinit e pains were t hen t aken by Biddy t o convey t o m y sist er som e idea of what had happened. To t he best of m y belief, t hose effort s ent irely failed. She laughed and nodded her head a great m any t im es, and even repeat ed aft er Biddy, t he words “ Pip” and “ Propert y.” But I doubt if t hey had m ore m eaning in t hem t han an elect ion cry, and I cannot suggest a darker pict ure of her st at e of m ind. I never could have believed it wit hout experience, but as Joe and Biddy becam e m ore at t heir cheerful ease again, I becam e quit e gloom y. Dissat isfied wit h m y fort une, of course I could not be; but it is possible t hat I m ay have been, wit hout quit e knowing it , dissat isfied wit h m yself. Anyhow, I sat wit h m y elbow on m y knee and m y face upon m y hand, looking int o t he fire, as t hose t wo t alked about m y going away, and about what t hey should do wit hout m e, and all t hat . And whenever I caught one of t hem looking at m e, t hough never so pleasant ly ( and t hey oft en looked at m e—part icularly Biddy) , I felt offended: as if t hey were expressing som e m ist rust of m e. Though Heaven knows t hey never did by word or sign. 203
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
At t hose t im es I would get up and look out at t he door; for, our kit chen door opened at once upon t he night , and st ood open on sum m er evenings t o air t he room . The very st ars t o which I t hen raised m y eyes, I am afraid I t ook t o be but poor and hum ble st ars for glit t ering on t he rust ic obj ect s am ong which I had passed m y life. “ Sat urday night ,” said I , when we sat at our supper of bread- and- cheese and beer. “ Five m ore days, and t hen t he day before t he day! They'll soon go.” “ Yes, Pip,” observed Joe, whose voice sounded hollow in his beer m ug. “ They'll soon go.” “ Soon, soon go,” said Biddy. “ I have been t hinking, Joe, t hat when I go down t own on Monday, and order m y new clot hes, I shall t ell t he t ailor t hat I 'll com e and put t hem on t here, or t hat I 'll have t hem sent t o Mr. Pum blechook's. I t would be very disagreeable t o be st ared at by all t he people here.” “ Mr. and Mrs. Hubble m ight like t o see you in your new gent eel figure t oo, Pip,” said Joe, indust riously cut t ing his bread, wit h his cheese on it , in t he palm of his left hand, and glancing at m y unt ast ed supper as if he t hought of t he t im e when we used t o com pare slices. “ So m ight Wopsle. And t he Jolly Bargem en m ight t ake it as a com plim ent .” “ That 's j ust what I don't want , Joe. They would m ake such a business of it —such a coarse and com m on business—t hat I couldn't bear m yself.” “ Ah, t hat indeed, Pip! ” said Joe. “ I f you couldn't abear yourself—” 204
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Biddy asked m e here, as she sat holding m y sist er's plat e, “ Have you t hought about when you'll show yourself t o Mr. Gargery, and your sist er, and m e? You will show yourself t o us; won't you?” “ Biddy,” I ret urned wit h som e resent m ent , “ you are so exceedingly quick t hat it 's difficult t o keep up wit h you.” ( " She always were quick,” observed Joe.) “ I f you had wait ed anot her m om ent , Biddy, you would have heard m e say t hat I shall bring m y clot hes here in a bundle one evening—m ost likely on t he evening before I go away.” Biddy said no m ore. Handsom ely forgiving her, I soon exchanged an affect ionat e good- night wit h her and Joe, and went up t o bed. When I got int o m y lit t le room , I sat down and t ook a long look at it , as a m ean lit t le room t hat I should soon be part ed from and raised above, for ever, I t was furnished wit h fresh young rem em brances t oo, and even at t he sam e m om ent I fell int o m uch t he sam e confused division of m ind bet ween it and t he bet t er room s t o which I was going, as I had been in so oft en bet ween t he forge and Miss Havisham 's, and Biddy and Est ella. The sun had been shining bright ly all day on t he roof of m y at t ic, and t he room was warm . As I put t he window open and st ood looking out , I saw Joe com e slowly fort h at t he dark door below, and t ake a t urn or t wo in t he air; and t hen I saw Biddy com e, and bring him a pipe and light it for him . He never sm oked so lat e, and it seem ed t o hint t o m e t hat he want ed com fort ing, for som e reason or ot her. 205
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He present ly st ood at t he door im m ediat ely beneat h m e, sm oking his pipe, and Biddy st ood t here t oo, quiet ly t alking t o him , and I knew t hat t hey t alked of m e, for I heard m y nam e m ent ioned in an endearing t one by bot h of t hem m ore t han once. I would not have list ened for m ore, if I could have heard m ore: so, I drew away from t he window, and sat down in m y one chair by t he bedside, feeling it very sorrowful and st range t hat t his first night of m y bright fort unes should be t he loneliest I had ever known. Looking t owards t he open window, I saw light wreat hs from Joe's pipe float ing t here, and I fancied it was like a blessing from Joe—not obt ruded on m e or paraded before m e, but pervading t he air we shared t oget her. I put m y light out , and crept int o bed; and it was an uneasy bed now, and I never slept t he old sound sleep in it any m ore.
206
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 19 Morning m ade a considerable difference in m y general prospect of Life, and bright ened it so m uch t hat it scarcely seem ed t he sam e. What lay heaviest on m y m ind, was, t he considerat ion t hat six days int ervened bet ween m e and t he day of depart ure; for, I could not divest m yself of a m isgiving t hat som et hing m ight happen t o London in t he m eanwhile, and t hat , when I got t here, it would be eit her great ly det eriorat ed or clean gone. Joe and Biddy were very sym pat het ic and pleasant when I spoke of our approaching separat ion; but t hey only referred t o it when I did. Aft er breakfast , Joe brought out m y indent ures from t he press in t he best parlour, and we put t hem in t he fire, and I felt t hat I was free. Wit h all t he novelt y of m y em ancipat ion on m e, I went t o church wit h Joe, and t hought , perhaps t he clergym an wouldn't have read t hat about t he rich m an and t he kingdom of Heaven, if he had known all. Aft er our early dinner I st rolled out alone, purposing t o finish off t he m arshes at once, and get t hem done wit h. As I passed t he church, I felt ( as I had felt during service in t he m orning) a sublim e com passion for t he poor creat ures who were dest ined t o go t here, Sunday aft er Sunday, all t heir lives t hrough, and t o lie obscurely at last am ong t he low green m ounds. I prom ised m yself t hat I would do som et hing for t hem one of t hese days, and form ed a plan in out line for best owing a dinner of roast - beef and plum pudding, a pint of 207
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ale, and a gallon of condescension, upon everybody in t he village. I f I had oft en t hought before, wit h som et hing allied t o sham e, of m y com panionship wit h t he fugit ive whom I had once seen lim ping am ong t hose graves, what were m y t hought s on t his Sunday, when t he place recalled t he wret ch, ragged and shivering, wit h his felon iron and badge! My com fort was, t hat it happened a long t im e ago, and t hat he had doubt less been t ransport ed a long way off, and t hat he was dead t o m e, and m ight be verit ably dead int o t he bargain. No m ore low wet grounds, no m ore dykes and sluices, no m ore of t hese grazing cat t le—t hough t hey seem ed, in t heir dull m anner, t o wear a m ore respect ful air now, and t o face round, in order t hat t hey m ight st are as long as possible at t he possessor of such great expect at ions—farewell, m onot onous acquaint ances of m y childhood, hencefort h I was for London and great ness: not for sm it h's work in general and for you! I m ade m y exult ant way t o t he old Bat t ery, and, lying down t here t o consider t he quest ion whet her Miss Havisham int ended m e for Est ella, fell asleep. When I awoke, I was m uch surprised t o find Joe sit t ing beside m e, sm oking his pipe. He greet ed m e wit h a cheerful sm ile on m y opening m y eyes, and said: “ As being t he last t im e, Pip, I t hought I 'd foller.” “ And Joe, I am very glad you did so.” “ Thankee, Pip.” “ You m ay be sure, dear Joe,” I went on, aft er we had shaken hands, “ t hat I shall never forget you.” 208
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No, no, Pip! ” said Joe, in a com fort able t one, “ I 'm sure of t hat . Ay, ay, old chap! Bless you, it were only necessary t o get it well round in a m an's m ind, t o be cert ain on it . But it t ook a bit of t im e t o get it well round, t he change com e so oncom m on plum p; didn't it ?” Som ehow, I was not best pleased wit h Joe's being so m ight ily secure of m e. I should have liked him t o have bet rayed em ot ion, or t o have said, “ I t does you credit , Pip,” or som et hing of t hat sort . Therefore, I m ade no rem ark on Joe's first head: m erely saying as t o his second, t hat t he t idings had indeed com e suddenly, but t hat I had always want ed t o be a gent lem an, and had oft en and oft en speculat ed on what I would do, if I were one. “ Have you t hough?” said Joe. “ Ast onishing! ” “ I t 's a pit y now, Joe,” said I , “ t hat you did not get on a lit t le m ore, when we had our lessons here; isn't it ?” “ Well, I don't know,” ret urned Joe. “ I 'm so awful dull. I 'm only m ast er of m y own t rade. I t were always a pit y as I was so awful dull; but it 's no m ore of a pit y now, t han it was—t his day t welvem ont h—don't you see?” What I had m eant was, t hat when I cam e int o m y propert y and was able t o do som et hing for Joe, it would have been m uch m ore agreeable if he had been bet t er qualified for a rise in st at ion. He was so perfect ly innocent of m y m eaning, however, t hat I t hought I would m ent ion it t o Biddy in preference. So, when we had walked hom e and had had t ea, I t ook Biddy int o our lit t le garden by t he side of t he lane, and, aft er t hrowing out in a general way for t he elevat ion of her spirit s, 209
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat I should never forget her, said I had a favour t o ask of her. “ And it is, Biddy,” said I , “ t hat you will not om it any opport unit y of helping Joe on, a lit t le.” “ How helping him on?” asked Biddy, wit h a st eady sort of glance. “ Well! Joe is a dear good fellow—in fact , I t hink he is t he dearest fellow t hat ever lived—but he is rat her backward in som e t hings. For inst ance, Biddy, in his learning and his m anners.” Alt hough I was looking at Biddy as I spoke, and alt hough she opened her eyes very wide when I had spoken, she did not look at m e. “ Oh, his m anners! won't his m anners do, t hen?” asked Biddy, plucking a black- currant leaf. “ My dear Biddy, t hey do very well here—” “ Oh! t hey do very well here?” int errupt ed Biddy, looking closely at t he leaf in her hand. “ Hear m e out —but if I were t o rem ove Joe int o a higher sphere, as I shall hope t o rem ove him when I fully com e int o m y propert y, t hey would hardly do him j ust ice.” “ And don't you t hink he knows t hat ?” asked Biddy. I t was such a very provoking quest ion ( for it had never in t he m ost dist ant m anner occurred t o m e) , t hat I said, snappishly, “ Biddy, what do you m ean?” Biddy having rubbed t he leaf t o pieces bet ween her hands—and t he sm ell of a black- currant bush has ever since recalled t o m e t hat evening in t he lit t le garden by t he side of 210
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he lane—said, “ Have you never considered t hat he m ay be proud?” “ Proud?” I repeat ed, wit h disdainful em phasis. “ Oh! t here are m any kinds of pride,” said Biddy, looking full at m e and shaking her head; “ pride is not all of one kind— ” “ Well? What are you st opping for?” said I . “ Not all of one kind,” resum ed Biddy. “ He m ay be t oo proud t o let any one t ake him out of a place t hat he is com pet ent t o fill, and fills well and wit h respect . To t ell you t he t rut h, I t hink he is: t hough it sounds bold in m e t o say so, for you m ust know him far bet t er t han I do.” “ Now, Biddy,” said I , “ I am very sorry t o see t his in you. I did not expect t o see t his in you. You are envious, Biddy, and grudging. You are dissat isfied on account of m y rise in fort une, and you can't help showing it .” “ I f you have t he heart t o t hink so,” ret urned Biddy, “ say so. Say so over and over again, if you have t he heart t o t hink so.” “ I f you have t he heart t o be so, you m ean, Biddy,” said I , in a virt uous and superior t one; “ don't put it off upon m e. I am very sorry t o see it , and it 's a—it 's a bad side of hum an nat ure. I did int end t o ask you t o use any lit t le opport unit ies you m ight have aft er I was gone, of im proving dear Joe. But aft er t his, I ask you not hing. I am ext rem ely sorry t o see t his in you, Biddy,” I repeat ed. “ I t 's a—it 's a bad side of hum an nat ure.” “ Whet her you scold m e or approve of m e,” ret urned poor Biddy, “ you m ay equally depend upon m y t rying t o do all t hat 211
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
lies in m y power, here, at all t im es. And what ever opinion you t ake away of m e, shall m ake no difference in m y rem em brance of you. Yet a gent lem an should not be unj ust neit her,” said Biddy, t urning away her head. I again warm ly repeat ed t hat it was a bad side of hum an nat ure ( in which sent im ent , waiving it s applicat ion, I have since seen reason t o t hink I was right ) , and I walked down t he lit t le pat h away from Biddy, and Biddy went int o t he house, and I went out at t he garden gat e and t ook a dej ect ed st roll unt il supper- t im e; again feeling it very sorrowful and st range t hat t his, t he second night of m y bright fort unes, should be as lonely and unsat isfact ory as t he first . But , m orning once m ore bright ened m y view, and I ext ended m y clem ency t o Biddy, and we dropped t he subj ect . Put t ing on t he best clot hes I had, I went int o t own as early as I could hope t o find t he shops open, and present ed m yself before Mr. Trabb, t he t ailor: who was having his breakfast in t he parlour behind his shop, and who did not t hink it wort h his while t o com e out t o m e, but called m e in t o him . “ Well! ” said Mr. Trabb, in a hail- fellow- well- m et kind of way. “ How are you, and what can I do for you?” Mr. Trabb had sliced his hot roll int o t hree feat her beds, and was slipping but t er in bet ween t he blanket s, and covering it up. He was a prosperous old bachelor, and his open window looked int o a prosperous lit t le garden and orchard, and t here was a prosperous iron safe let int o t he wall at t he side of his fireplace, and I did not doubt t hat heaps of his prosperit y were put away in it in bags. 212
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Mr. Trabb,” said I , “ it 's an unpleasant t hing t o have t o m ent ion, because it looks like boast ing; but I have com e int o a handsom e propert y.” A change passed over Mr. Trabb. He forgot t he but t er in bed, got up from t he bedside, and wiped his fingers on t he t able- clot h, exclaim ing, “ Lord bless m y soul! ” “ I am going up t o m y guardian in London,” said I , casually drawing som e guineas out of m y pocket and looking at t hem ; “ and I want a fashionable suit of clot hes t o go in. I wish t o pay for t hem ,” I added—ot herwise I t hought he m ight only pret end t o m ake t hem —" wit h ready m oney.” “ My dear sir,” said Mr. Trabb, as he respect fully bent his body, opened his arm s, and t ook t he libert y of t ouching m e on t he out side of each elbow, “ don't hurt m e by m ent ioning t hat . May I vent ure t o congrat ulat e you? Would you do m e t he favour of st epping int o t he shop?” Mr. Trabb's boy was t he m ost audacious boy in all t hat count ryside. When I had ent ered he was sweeping t he shop, and he had sweet ened his labours by sweeping over m e. He was st ill sweeping when I cam e out int o t he shop wit h Mr. Trabb, and he knocked t he broom against all possible corners and obst acles, t o express ( as I underst ood it ) equalit y wit h any blacksm it h, alive or dead. “ Hold t hat noise,” said Mr. Trabb, wit h t he great est st ernness, “ or I 'll knock your head off! Do m e t he favour t o be seat ed, sir. Now, t his,” said Mr. Trabb, t aking down a roll of clot h, and t iding it out in a flowing m anner over t he count er, preparat ory t o get t ing his hand under it t o show t he gloss, “ is a very sweet art icle. I can recom m end it for your 213
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
purpose, sir, because it really is ext ra super. But you shall see som e ot hers. Give m e Num ber Four, you! ” ( To t he boy, and wit h a dreadfully severe st are: foreseeing t he danger of t hat m iscreant 's brushing m e wit h it , or m aking som e ot her sign of fam iliarit y.) Mr. Trabb never rem oved his st ern eye from t he boy unt il he had deposit ed num ber four on t he count er and was at a safe dist ance again. Then, he com m anded him t o bring num ber five, and num ber eight . “ And let m e have none of your t ricks here,” said Mr. Trabb, “ or you shall repent it , you young scoundrel, t he longest day you have t o live.” Mr. Trabb t hen bent over num ber four, and in a sort of deferent ial confidence recom m ended it t o m e as a light art icle for sum m er wear, an art icle m uch in vogue am ong t he nobilit y and gent ry, an art icle t hat it would ever be an honour t o him t o reflect upon a dist inguished fellow- t ownsm an's ( if he m ight claim m e for a fellow- t ownsm an) having worn. “ Are you bringing num bers five and eight , you vagabond,” said Mr. Trabb t o t he boy aft er t hat , “ or shall I kick you out of t he shop and bring t hem m yself?” I select ed t he m at erials for a suit , wit h t he assist ance of Mr. Trabb's j udgm ent , and re- ent ered t he parlour t o be m easured. For, alt hough Mr. Trabb had m y m easure already, and had previously been quit e cont ent ed wit h it , he said apologet ically t hat it “ wouldn't do under exist ing circum st ances, sir—wouldn't do at all.” So, Mr. Trabb m easured and calculat ed m e, in t he parlour, as if I were an est at e and he t he finest species of surveyor, and gave him self such a world of t rouble t hat I felt t hat no suit of clot hes could 214
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
possibly rem unerat e him for his pains. When he had at last done and had appoint ed t o send t he art icles t o Mr. Pum blechook's on t he Thursday evening, he said, wit h his hand upon t he parlour lock, “ I know, sir, t hat London gent lem en cannot be expect ed t o pat ronize local work, as a rule; but if you would give m e a t urn now and t hen in t he qualit y of a t ownsm an, I should great ly est eem it . Good m orning, sir, m uch obliged.—Door! ” The last word was flung at t he boy, who had not t he least not ion what it m eant . But I saw him collapse as his m ast er rubbed m e out wit h his hands, and m y first decided experience of t he st upendous power of m oney, was, t hat it had m orally laid upon his back, Trabb's boy. Aft er t his m em orable event , I went t o t he hat t er's, and t he boot m aker's, and t he hosier's, and felt rat her like Mot her Hubbard's dog whose out fit required t he services of so m any t rades. I also went t o t he coach- office and t ook m y place for seven o'clock on Sat urday m orning. I t was not necessary t o explain everywhere t hat I had com e int o a handsom e propert y; but whenever I said anyt hing t o t hat effect , it followed t hat t he officiat ing t radesm an ceased t o have his at t ent ion divert ed t hrough t he window by t he High- st reet , and concent rat ed his m ind upon m e. When I had ordered everyt hing I want ed, I direct ed m y st eps t owards Pum blechook's, and, as I approached t hat gent lem an's place of business, I saw him st anding at his door. He was wait ing for m e wit h great im pat ience. He had been out early in t he chaise- cart , and had called at t he forge and heard t he news. He had prepared a collat ion for m e in t he 215
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Barnwell parlour, and he t oo ordered his shopm an t o “ com e out of t he gangway” as m y sacred person passed. “ My dear friend,” said Mr. Pum blechook, t aking m e by bot h hands, when he and I and t he collat ion were alone, “ I give you j oy of your good fort une. Well deserved, well deserved! ” This was com ing t o t he point , and I t hought it a sensible way of expressing him self. “ To t hink,” said Mr. Pum blechook, aft er snort ing adm irat ion at m e for som e m om ent s, “ t hat I should have been t he hum ble inst rum ent of leading up t o t his, is a proud reward.” I begged Mr. Pum blechook t o rem em ber t hat not hing was t o be ever said or hint ed, on t hat point . “ My dear young friend,” said Mr. Pum blechook, “ if you will allow m e t o call you so—” I m urm ured “ Cert ainly,” and Mr. Pum blechook t ook m e by bot h hands again, and com m unicat ed a m ovem ent t o his waist coat , which had an em ot ional appearance, t hough it was rat her low down, “ My dear young friend, rely upon m y doing m y lit t le all in your absence, by keeping t he fact before t he m ind of Joseph.—Joseph! ” said Mr. Pum blechook, in t he way of a com passionat e adj urat ion. “ Joseph! ! Joseph! ! ! ” Thereupon he shook his head and t apped it , expressing his sense of deficiency in Joseph. “ But m y dear young friend,” said Mr. Pum blechook, “ you m ust be hungry, you m ust be exhaust ed. Be seat ed. Here is a chicken had round from t he Boar, here is a t ongue had round from t he Boar, here's one or t wo lit t le t hings had round from t he Boar, t hat I hope you m ay not despise. But do I ,” said Mr. 216
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Pum blechook, get t ing up again t he m om ent aft er he had sat down, “ see afore m e, him as I ever sport ed wit h in his t im es of happy infancy? And m ay I —m ay I —?” This May I , m eant m ight he shake hands? I consent ed, and he was fervent , and t hen sat down again. “ Here is wine,” said Mr. Pum blechook. “ Let us drink, Thanks t o Fort une, and m ay she ever pick out her favourit es wit h equal j udgm ent ! And yet I cannot ,” said Mr. Pum blechook, get t ing up again, “ see afore m e One—and likewise drink t o One—wit hout again expressing—May I —m ay I —?” I said he m ight , and he shook hands wit h m e again, and em pt ied his glass and t urned it upside down. I did t he sam e; and if I had t urned m yself upside down before drinking, t he wine could not have gone m ore direct t o m y head. Mr. Pum blechook helped m e t o t he liver wing, and t o t he best slice of t ongue ( none of t hose out - of- t he- way No Thoroughfares of Pork now) , and t ook, com parat ively speaking, no care of him self at all. “ Ah! poult ry, poult ry! You lit t le t hought ,” said Mr. Pum blechook, apost rophizing t he fowl in t he dish, “ when you was a young fledgling, what was in st ore for you. You lit t le t hought you was t o be refreshm ent beneat h t his hum ble roof for one as—Call it a weakness, if you will,” said Mr. Pum blechook, get t ing up again, “ but m ay I ? m ay I —?” I t began t o be unnecessary t o repeat t he form of saying he m ight , so he did it at once. How he ever did it so oft en wit hout wounding him self wit h m y knife, I don't know. 217
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ And your sist er,” he resum ed, aft er a lit t le st eady eat ing, “ which had t he honour of bringing you up by hand! I t 's a sad pict er, t o reflect t hat she's no longer equal t o fully underst anding t he honour. May—” I saw he was about t o com e at m e again, and I st opped him . “ We'll drink her healt h,” said I . “ Ah! ” cried Mr. Pum blechook, leaning back in his chair, quit e flaccid wit h adm irat ion, “ t hat 's t he way you know ‘em , sir! ” ( I don't know who Sir was, but he cert ainly was not I , and t here was no t hird person present ) ; “ t hat 's t he way you know t he noblem inded, sir! Ever forgiving and ever affable. I t m ight ,” said t he servile Pum blechook, put t ing down his unt ast ed glass in a hurry and get t ing up again, “ t o a com m on person, have t he appearance of repeat ing—but m ay I —?” When he had done it , he resum ed his seat and drank t o m y sist er. “ Let us never be blind,” said Mr. Pum blechook, “ t o her fault s of t em per, but it is t o be hoped she m eant well.” At about t his t im e, I began t o observe t hat he was get t ing flushed in t he face; as t o m yself, I felt all face, st eeped in wine and sm art ing. I m ent ioned t o Mr. Pum blechook t hat I wished t o have m y new clot hes sent t o his house, and he was ecst at ic on m y so dist inguishing him . I m ent ioned m y reason for desiring t o avoid observat ion in t he village, and he lauded it t o t he skies. There was nobody but him self, he int im at ed, wort hy of m y confidence, and—in short , m ight he? Then he asked m e t enderly if I rem em bered our boyish gam es at sum s, and how we had gone t oget her t o have m e bound apprent ice, and, in 218
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
effect , how he had ever been m y favourit e fancy and m y chosen friend? I f I had t aken t en t im es as m any glasses of wine as I had, I should have known t hat he never had st ood in t hat relat ion t owards m e, and should in m y heart of heart s have repudiat ed t he idea. Yet for all t hat , I rem em ber feeling convinced t hat I had been m uch m ist aken in him , and t hat he was a sensible pract ical good- heart ed prim e fellow. By degrees he fell t o reposing such great confidence in m e, as t o ask m y advice in reference t o his own affairs. He m ent ioned t hat t here was an opport unit y for a great am algam at ion and m onopoly of t he corn and seed t rade on t hose prem ises, if enlarged, such as had never occurred before in t hat , or any ot her neighbourhood. What alone was want ing t o t he realizat ion of a vast fort une, he considered t o be More Capit al. Those were t he t wo lit t le words, m ore capit al. Now it appeared t o him ( Pum blechook) t hat if t hat capit al were got int o t he business, t hrough a sleeping part ner, sir—which sleeping part ner would have not hing t o do but walk in, by self or deput y, whenever he pleased, and exam ine t he books—and walk in t wice a year and t ake his profit s away in his pocket , t o t he t une of fift y per cent .—it appeared t o him t hat t hat m ight be an opening for a young gent lem an of spirit com bined wit h propert y, which would be wort hy of his at t ent ion. But what did I t hink? He had great confidence in m y opinion, and what did I t hink? I gave it as m y opinion. “ Wait a bit ! ” The unit ed vast ness and dist inct ness of t his view so st ruck him , t hat he no longer asked if he m ight shake hands wit h m e, but said he really m ust —and did. 219
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
We drank all t he wine, and Mr. Pum blechook pledged him self over and over again t o keep Joseph up t o t he m ark ( I don't know what m ark) , and t o render m e efficient and const ant service ( I don't know what service) . He also m ade known t o m e for t he first t im e in m y life, and cert ainly aft er having kept his secret wonderfully well, t hat he had always said of m e, “ That boy is no com m on boy, and m ark m e, his fort un’ will be no com m on fort un'.” He said wit h a t earful sm ile t hat it was a singular t hing t o t hink of now, and I said so t oo. Finally, I went out int o t he air, wit h a dim percept ion t hat t here was som et hing unwont ed in t he conduct of t he sunshine, and found t hat I had slum berously got t o t he t urnpike wit hout having t aken any account of t he road. There, I was roused by Mr. Pum blechook's hailing m e. He was a long way down t he sunny st reet , and was m aking expressive gest ures for m e t o st op. I st opped, and he cam e up breat hless. “ No, m y dear friend,” said he, when he had recovered wind for speech. “ Not if I can help it . This occasion shall not ent irely pass wit hout t hat affabilit y on your part .—May I , as an old friend and well- wisher? May I ?” We shook hands for t he hundredt h t im e at least , and he ordered a young cart er out of m y way wit h t he great est indignat ion. Then, he blessed m e and st ood waving his hand t o m e unt il I had passed t he crook in t he road; and t hen I t urned int o a field and had a long nap under a hedge before I pursued m y way hom e. I had scant luggage t o t ake wit h m e t o London, for lit t le of t he lit t le I possessed was adapt ed t o m y new st at ion. But , I 220
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
began packing t hat sam e aft ernoon, and wildly packed up t hings t hat I knew I should want next m orning, in a fict ion t hat t here was not a m om ent t o be lost . So, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, passed; and on Friday m orning I went t o Mr. Pum blechook's, t o put on m y new clot hes and pay m y visit t o Miss Havisham . Mr. Pum blechook's own room was given up t o m e t o dress in, and was decorat ed wit h clean t owels expressly for t he event . My clot hes were rat her a disappoint m ent , of course. Probably every new and eagerly expect ed garm ent ever put on since clot hes cam e in, fell a t rifle short of t he wearer's expect at ion. But aft er I had had m y new suit on, som e half an hour, and had gone t hrough an im m ensit y of post uring wit h Mr. Pum blechook's very lim it ed dressing- glass, in t he fut ile endeavour t o see m y legs, it seem ed t o fit m e bet t er. I t being m arket m orning at a neighbouring t own som e t en m iles off, Mr. Pum blechook was not at hom e. I had not t old him exact ly when I m eant t o leave, and was not likely t o shake hands wit h him again before depart ing. This was all as it should be, and I went out in m y new array: fearfully asham ed of having t o pass t he shopm an, and suspicious aft er all t hat I was at a personal disadvant age, som et hing like Joe's in his Sunday suit . I went circuit ously t o Miss Havisham 's by all t he back ways, and rang at t he bell const rainedly, on account of t he st iff long fingers of m y gloves. Sarah Pocket cam e t o t he gat e, and posit ively reeled back when she saw m e so changed; her walnut - shell count enance likewise, t urned from brown t o green and yellow. 221
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You?” said she. “ You, good gracious! What do you want ?” “ I am going t o London, Miss Pocket ,” said I , “ and want t o say good- bye t o Miss Havisham .” I was not expect ed, for she left m e locked in t he yard, while she went t o ask if I were t o be adm it t ed. Aft er a very short delay, she ret urned and t ook m e up, st aring at m e all t he way. Miss Havisham was t aking exercise in t he room wit h t he long spread t able, leaning on her crut ch st ick. The room was light ed as of yore, and at t he sound of our ent rance, she st opped and t urned. She was t hen j ust abreast of t he rot t ed bride- cake. “ Don't go, Sarah,” she said. “ Well, Pip?” “ I st art for London, Miss Havisham , t o- m orrow,” I was exceedingly careful what I said, “ and I t hought you would kindly not m ind m y t aking leave of you.” “ This is a gay figure, Pip,” said she, m aking her crut ch st ick play round m e, as if she, t he fairy godm ot her who had changed m e, were best owing t he finishing gift . “ I have com e int o such good fort une since I saw you last , Miss Havisham ,” I m urm ured. “ And I am so grat eful for it , Miss Havisham ! ” “ Ay, ay! ” said she, looking at t he discom fit ed and envious Sarah, wit h delight . “ I have seen Mr. Jaggers. I have heard about it , Pip. So you go t o- m orrow?” “ Yes, Miss Havisham .” “ And you are adopt ed by a rich person?” “ Yes, Miss Havisham .” “ Not nam ed?” 222
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No, Miss Havisham .” “ And Mr. Jaggers is m ade your guardian?” “ Yes, Miss Havisham .” She quit e gloat ed on t hese quest ions and answers, so keen was her enj oym ent of Sarah Pocket 's j ealous dism ay. “ Well! ” she went on; “ you have a prom ising career before you. Be good—deserve it —and abide by Mr. Jaggers's inst ruct ions.” She looked at m e, and looked at Sarah, and Sarah's count enance wrung out of her wat chful face a cruel sm ile. “ Good- bye, Pip! —you will always keep t he nam e of Pip, you know.” “ Yes, Miss Havisham .” “ Good- bye, Pip! ” She st ret ched out her hand, and I went down on m y knee and put it t o m y lips. I had not considered how I should t ake leave of her; it cam e nat urally t o m e at t he m om ent , t o do t his. She looked at Sarah Pocket wit h t rium ph in her weird eyes, and so I left m y fairy godm ot her, wit h bot h her hands on her crut ch st ick, st anding in t he m idst of t he dim ly light ed room beside t he rot t en bridecake t hat was hidden in cobwebs. Sarah Pocket conduct ed m e down, as if I were a ghost who m ust be seen out . She could not get over m y appearance, and was in t he last degree confounded. I said “ Good- bye, Miss Pocket ; ” but she m erely st ared, and did not seem collect ed enough t o know t hat I had spoken. Clear of t he house, I m ade t he best of m y way back t o Pum blechook's, t ook off m y new clot hes, m ade t hem int o a bundle, and went back hom e in m y older dress, carrying it —t o speak t he 223
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t rut h—m uch m ore at m y ease t oo, t hough I had t he bundle t o carry. And now, t hose six days which were t o have run out so slowly, had run out fast and were gone, and t o- m orrow looked m e in t he face m ore st eadily t han I could look at it . As t he six evenings had dwindled away, t o five, t o four, t o t hree, t o t wo, I had becom e m ore and m ore appreciat ive of t he societ y of Joe and Biddy. On t his last evening, I dressed m y self out in m y new clot hes, for t heir delight , and sat in m y splendour unt il bedt im e. We had a hot supper on t he occasion, graced by t he inevit able roast fowl, and we had som e flip t o finish wit h. We were all very low, and none t he higher for pret ending t o be in spirit s. I was t o leave our village at five in t he m orning, carrying m y lit t le hand- port m ant eau, and I had t old Joe t hat I wished t o walk away all alone. I am afraid—sore afraid—t hat t his purpose originat ed in m y sense of t he cont rast t here would be bet ween m e and Joe, if we went t o t he coach t oget her. I had pret ended wit h m yself t hat t here was not hing of t his t aint in t he arrangem ent ; but when I went up t o m y lit t le room on t his last night , I felt com pelled t o adm it t hat it m ight be so, and had an im pulse upon m e t o go down again and ent reat Joe t o walk wit h m e in t he m orning. I did not . All night t here were coaches in m y broken sleep, going t o wrong places inst ead of t o London, and having in t he t races, now dogs, now cat s, now pigs, now m en—never horses. Fant ast ic failures of j ourneys occupied m e unt il t he day dawned and t he birds were singing. Then, I got up and part ly 224
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
dressed, and sat at t he window t o t ake a last look out , and in t aking it fell asleep. Biddy was ast ir so early t o get m y breakfast , t hat , alt hough I did not sleep at t he window an hour, I sm elt t he sm oke of t he kit chen fire when I st art ed up wit h a t errible idea t hat it m ust be lat e in t he aft ernoon. But long aft er t hat , and long aft er I had heard t he clinking of t he t eacups and was quit e ready, I want ed t he resolut ion t o go down st airs. Aft er all, I rem ained up t here, repeat edly unlocking and unst rapping m y sm all port m ant eau and locking and st rapping it up again, unt il Biddy called t o m e t hat I was lat e. I t was a hurried breakfast wit h no t ast e in it . I got up from t he m eal, saying wit h a sort of briskness, as if it had only j ust occurred t o m e, “ Well! I suppose I m ust be off! ” and t hen I kissed m y sist er who was laughing and nodding and shaking in her usual chair, and kissed Biddy, and t hrew m y arm s around Joe's neck. Then I t ook up m y lit t le port m ant eau and walked out . The last I saw of t hem was, when I present ly heard a scuffle behind m e, and looking back, saw Joe t hrowing an old shoe aft er m e and Biddy t hrowing anot her old shoe. I st opped t hen, t o wave m y hat , and dear old Joe waved his st rong right arm above his head, crying huskily “ Hooroar! ” and Biddy put her apron t o her face. I walked away at a good pace, t hinking it was easier t o go t han I had supposed it would be, and reflect ing t hat it would never have done t o have had an old shoe t hrown aft er t he coach, in sight of all t he High- st reet . I whist led and m ade not hing of going. But t he village was very peaceful and quiet , and t he light m ist s were solem nly rising, as if t o show m e t he 225
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
world, and I had been so innocent and lit t le t here, and all beyond was so unknown and great , t hat in a m om ent wit h a st rong heave and sob I broke int o t ears. I t was by t he fingerpost at t he end of t he village, and I laid m y hand upon it , and said, “ Good- bye O m y dear, dear friend! ” Heaven knows we need never be asham ed of our t ears, for t hey are rain upon t he blinding dust of eart h, overlying our hard heart s. I was bet t er aft er I had cried, t han before—m ore sorry, m ore aware of m y own ingrat it ude, m ore gent le. I f I had cried before, I should have had Joe wit h m e t hen. So subdued I was by t hose t ears, and by t heir breaking out again in t he course of t he quiet walk, t hat when I was on t he coach, and it was clear of t he t own, I deliberat ed wit h an aching heart whet her I would not get down when we changed horses and walk back, and have anot her evening at hom e, and a bet t er part ing. We changed, and I had not m ade up m y m ind, and st ill reflect ed for m y com fort t hat it would be quit e pract icable t o get down and walk back, when we changed again. And while I was occupied wit h t hese deliberat ions, I would fancy an exact resem blance t o Joe in som e m an com ing along t he road t owards us, and m y heart would beat high.—As if he could possibly be t here! We changed again, and yet again, and it was now t oo lat e and t oo far t o go back, and I went on. And t he m ist s had all solem nly risen now, and t he world lay spread before m e. This is t he end of t he first st age of Pip's Expect at ions.
226
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 20 The j ourney from our t own t o t he m et ropolis, was a j ourney of about five hours. I t was a lit t le past m id- day when t he fourhorse st age- coach by which I was a passenger, got int o t he ravel of t raffic frayed out about t he Cross Keys, Wood- st reet , Cheapside, London. We Brit ons had at t hat t im e part icularly set t led t hat it was t reasonable t o doubt our having and our being t he best of everyt hing: ot herwise, while I was scared by t he im m ensit y of London, I t hink I m ight have had som e faint doubt s whet her it was not rat her ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirt y. Mr. Jaggers had duly sent m e his address; it was, Lit t le Brit ain, and he had writ t en aft er it on his card, “ j ust out of Sm it hfield, and close by t he coach- office.” Nevert heless, a hackney- coachm an, who seem ed t o have as m any capes t o his greasy great - coat as he was years old, packed m e up in his coach and hem m ed m e in wit h a folding and j ingling barrier of st eps, as if he were going t o t ake m e fift y m iles. His get t ing on his box, which I rem em ber t o have been decorat ed wit h an old weat her- st ained pea- green ham m erclot h m ot heat en int o rags, was quit e a work of t im e. I t was a wonderful equipage, wit h six great coronet s out side, and ragged t hings behind for I don't know how m any foot m en t o hold on by, and a harrow below t hem , t o prevent am at eur foot m en from yielding t o t he t em pt at ion. I had scarcely had t im e t o enj oy t he coach and t o t hink how like a st raw- yard it was, and yet how like a rag- shop, 227
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and t o wonder why t he horses’ nose- bags were kept inside, when I observed t he coachm an beginning t o get down, as if we were going t o st op present ly. And st op we present ly did, in a gloom y st reet , at cert ain offices wit h an open door, whereon was paint ed Mr. Jaggers. “ How m uch?” I asked t he coachm an. The coachm an answered, “ A shilling—unless you wish t o m ake it m ore.” I nat urally said I had no wish t o m ake it m ore. “ Then it m ust be a shilling,” observed t he coachm an. “ I don't want t o get int o t rouble. I know him ! ” He darkly closed an eye at Mr Jaggers's nam e, and shook his head. When he had got his shilling, and had in course of t im e com plet ed t he ascent t o his box, and had got away ( which appeared t o relieve his m ind) , I went int o t he front office wit h m y lit t le port m ant eau in m y hand and asked, Was Mr. Jaggers at hom e? “ He is not ,” ret urned t he clerk. “ He is in Court at present . Am I addressing Mr. Pip?” I signified t hat he was addressing Mr. Pip. “ Mr. Jaggers left word would you wait in his room . He couldn't say how long he m ight be, having a case on. But it st ands t o reason, his t im e being valuable, t hat he won't be longer t han he can help.” Wit h t hose words, t he clerk opened a door, and ushered m e int o an inner cham ber at t he back. Here, we found a gent lem an wit h one eye, in a velvet een suit and kneebreeches, who wiped his nose wit h his sleeve on being int errupt ed in t he perusal of t he newspaper. 228
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Go and wait out side, Mike,” said t he clerk. I began t o say t hat I hoped I was not int errupt ing—when t he clerk shoved t his gent lem an out wit h as lit t le cerem ony as I ever saw used, and t ossing his fur cap out aft er him , left m e alone. Mr. Jaggers's room was light ed by a skylight only, and was a m ost dism al place; t he skylight , eccent rically pit ched like a broken head, and t he dist ort ed adj oining houses looking as if t hey had t wist ed t hem selves t o peep down at m e t hrough it . There were not so m any papers about , as I should have expect ed t o see; and t here were som e odd obj ect s about , t hat I should not have expect ed t o see—such as an old rust y pist ol, a sword in a scabbard, several st range- looking boxes and packages, and t wo dreadful cast s on a shelf, of faces peculiarly swollen, and t wit chy about t he nose. Mr. Jaggers's own high- backed chair was of deadly black horse- hair, wit h rows of brass nails round it , like a coffin; and I fancied I could see how he leaned back in it , and bit his forefinger at t he client s. The room was but sm all, and t he client s seem ed t o have had a habit of backing up against t he wall: t he wall, especially opposit e t o Mr. Jaggers's chair, being greasy wit h shoulders. I recalled, t oo, t hat t he one- eyed gent lem an had shuffled fort h against t he wall when I was t he innocent cause of his being t urned out . I sat down in t he client al chair placed over against Mr. Jaggers's chair, and becam e fascinat ed by t he dism al at m osphere of t he place. I called t o m ind t hat t he clerk had t he sam e air of knowing som et hing t o everybody else's disadvant age, as his m ast er had. I wondered how m any ot her 229
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
clerks t here were up- st airs, and whet her t hey all claim ed t o have t he sam e det rim ent al m ast ery of t heir fellow- creat ures. I wondered what was t he hist ory of all t he odd lit t er about t he room , and how it cam e t here. I wondered whet her t he t wo swollen faces were of Mr. Jaggers's fam ily, and, if he were so unfort unat e as t o have had a pair of such ill- looking relat ions, why he st uck t hem on t hat dust y perch for t he blacks and flies t o set t le on, inst ead of giving t hem a place at hom e. Of course I had no experience of a London sum m er day, and m y spirit s m ay have been oppressed by t he hot exhaust ed air, and by t he dust and grit t hat lay t hick on everyt hing. But I sat wondering and wait ing in Mr. Jaggers's close room , unt il I really could not bear t he t wo cast s on t he shelf above Mr. Jaggers's chair, and got up and went out . When I t old t he clerk t hat I would t ake a t urn in t he air while I wait ed, he advised m e t o go round t he corner and I should com e int o Sm it hfield. So, I cam e int o Sm it hfield; and t he sham eful place, being all asm ear wit h filt h and fat and blood and foam , seem ed t o st ick t o m e. So, I rubbed it off wit h all possible speed by t urning int o a st reet where I saw t he great black dom e of Saint Paul's bulging at m e from behind a grim st one building which a byst ander said was Newgat e Prison. Following t he wall of t he j ail, I found t he roadway covered wit h st raw t o deaden t he noise of passing vehicles; and from t his, and from t he quant it y of people st anding about , sm elling st rongly of spirit s and beer, I inferred t hat t he t rials were on. While I looked about m e here, an exceedingly dirt y and part ially drunk m inist er of j ust ice asked m e if I would like t o 230
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
st ep in and hear a t rial or so: inform ing m e t hat he could give m e a front place for half- a- crown, whence I should com m and a full view of t he Lord Chief Just ice in his wig and robes— m ent ioning t hat awful personage like waxwork, and present ly offering him at t he reduced price of eight eenpence. As I declined t he proposal on t he plea of an appoint m ent , he was so good as t o t ake m e int o a yard and show m e where t he gallows was kept , and also where people were publicly whipped, and t hen he showed m e t he Debt ors’ Door, out of which culprit s cam e t o be hanged: height ening t he int erest of t hat dreadful port al by giving m e t o underst and t hat “ four on ‘em ” would com e out at t hat door t he day aft er t o- m orrow at eight in t he m orning, t o be killed in a row. This was horrible, and gave m e a sickening idea of London: t he m ore so as t he Lord Chief Just ice's propriet or wore ( from his hat down t o his boot s and up again t o his pocket - handkerchief inclusive) m ildewed clot hes, which had evident ly not belonged t o him originally, and which, I t ook it int o m y head, he had bought cheap of t he execut ioner. Under t hese circum st ances I t hought m yself well rid of him for a shilling. I dropped int o t he office t o ask if Mr. Jaggers had com e in yet , and I found he had not , and I st rolled out again. This t im e, I m ade t he t our of Lit t le Brit ain, and t urned int o Bart holom ew Close; and now I becam e aware t hat ot her people were wait ing about for Mr. Jaggers, as well as I . There were t wo m en of secret appearance lounging in Bart holom ew Close, and t hought fully fit t ing t heir feet int o t he cracks of t he pavem ent as t hey t alked t oget her, one of whom said t o t he ot her when t hey first passed m e, t hat “ Jaggers would do it if 231
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
it was t o be done.” There was a knot of t hree m en and t wo wom en st anding at a corner, and one of t he wom en was crying on her dirt y shawl, and t he ot her com fort ed her by saying, as she pulled her own shawl over her shoulders, “ Jaggers is for him , ‘Melia, and what m ore could you have?” There was a red- eyed lit t le Jew who cam e int o t he Close while I was loit ering t here, in com pany wit h a second lit t le Jew whom he sent upon an errand; and while t he m essenger was gone, I rem arked t his Jew, who was of a highly excit able t em peram ent , perform ing a j ig of anxiet y under a lam p- post and accom panying him self, in a kind of frenzy, wit h t he words, “ Oh Jaggert h, Jaggert h, Jaggert h! all ot hert h it h CagMaggert h, give m e Jaggert h! ” These t est im onies t o t he popularit y of m y guardian m ade a deep im pression on m e, and I adm ired and wondered m ore t han ever. At lengt h, as I was looking out at t he iron gat e of Bart holom ew Close int o Lit t le Brit ain, I saw Mr. Jaggers com ing across t he road t owards m e. All t he ot hers who were wait ing, saw him at t he sam e t im e, and t here was quit e a rush at him . Mr. Jaggers, put t ing a hand on m y shoulder and walking m e on at his side wit hout saying anyt hing t o m e, addressed him self t o his followers. First , he t ook t he t wo secret m en. “ Now, I have not hing t o say t o you,” said Mr. Jaggers, t hrowing his finger at t hem . “ I want t o know no m ore t han I know. As t o t he result , it 's a t oss- up. I t old you from t he first it was a t oss- up. Have you paid Wem m ick?”
232
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ We m ade t he m oney up t his m orning, sir,” said one of t he m en, subm issively, while t he ot her perused Mr. Jaggers's face. “ I don't ask you when you m ade it up, or where, or whet her you m ade it up at all. Has Wem m ick got it ?” “ Yes, sir,” said bot h t he m en t oget her. “ Very well; t hen you m ay go. Now, I won't have it ! ” said Mr Jaggers, waving his hand at t hem t o put t hem behind him . “ I f you say a word t o m e, I 'll t hrow up t he case.” “ We t hought , Mr. Jaggers—” one of t he m en began, pulling off his hat . “ That 's what I t old you not t o do,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ You t hought ! I t hink for you; t hat 's enough for you. I f I want you, I know where t o find you; I don't want you t o find m e. Now I won't have it . I won't hear a word.” The t wo m en looked at one anot her as Mr. Jaggers waved t hem behind again, and hum bly fell back and were heard no m ore. “ And now you! ” said Mr. Jaggers, suddenly st opping, and t urning on t he t wo wom en wit h t he shawls, from whom t he t hree m en had m eekly separat ed.—" Oh! Am elia, is it ?” “ Yes, Mr. Jaggers.” “ And do you rem em ber,” ret ort ed Mr. Jaggers, “ t hat but for m e you wouldn't be here and couldn't be here?” “ Oh yes, sir! ” exclaim ed bot h wom en t oget her. “ Lord bless you, sir, well we knows t hat ! ” “ Then why,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ do you com e here?” “ My Bill, sir! ” t he crying wom an pleaded. 233
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Now, I t ell you what ! ” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Once for all. I f you don't know t hat your Bill's in good hands, I know it . And if you com e here, bot hering about your Bill, I 'll m ake an exam ple of bot h your Bill and you, and let him slip t hrough m y fingers. Have you paid Wem m ick?” “ Oh yes, sir! Every farden.” “ Very well. Then you have done all you have got t o do. Say anot her word—one single word—and Wem m ick shall give you your m oney back.” This t errible t hreat caused t he t wo wom en t o fall off im m ediat ely. No one rem ained now but t he excit able Jew, who had already raised t he skirt s of Mr. Jaggers's coat t o his lips several t im es. “ I don't know t his m an! ” said Mr. Jaggers, in t he sam e devast at ing st rain: “ What does t his fellow want ?” “ Ma t hear Mit ht er Jaggert h. Hown brot her t o Habraham Lat harut h?” “ Who's he?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Let go of m y coat .” The suit or, kissing t he hem of t he garm ent again before relinquishing it , replied, “ Habraham Lat harut h, on t hut hpit hion of plat e.” “ You're t oo lat e,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ I am over t he way.” “ Holy fat her, Mit ht er Jaggert h! ” cried m y excit able acquaint ance, t urning whit e, “ don't t hay you're again Habraham Lat harut h! ” “ I am ,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ and t here's an end of it . Get out of t he way.” “ Mit ht er Jaggert h! Half a m om ent ! My hown cut hen't h gone t o Mit ht er Wem m ick at t hit h pret hent m inut e, t o hoffer 234
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him hany t erm t h. Mit ht er Jaggert h! Half a quart er of a m om ent ! I f you'd have t he condet hent hun t o be bought off from t he t 'ot her t hide—at hany t huperior prit he! —m oney no obj ect ! —Mit ht er Jaggert h—Mit ht er—! ” My guardian t hrew his supplicant off wit h suprem e indifference, and left him dancing on t he pavem ent as if it were red- hot . Wit hout furt her int errupt ion, we reached t he front office, where we found t he clerk and t he m an in velvet een wit h t he fur cap. “ Here's Mike,” said t he clerk, get t ing down from his st ool, and approaching Mr. Jaggers confident ially. “ Oh! ” said Mr. Jaggers, t urning t o t he m an, who was pulling a lock of hair in t he m iddle of his forehead, like t he Bull in Cock Robin pulling at t he bell- rope; “ your m an com es on t his aft ernoon. Well?” “ Well, Mas'r Jaggers,” ret urned Mike, in t he voice of a sufferer from a const it ut ional cold; “ art er a deal o’ t rouble, I 've found one, sir, as m ight do.” “ What is he prepared t o swear?” “ Well, Mas'r Jaggers,” said Mike, wiping his nose on his fur cap t his t im e; “ in a general way, anyt hink.” Mr. Jaggers suddenly becam e m ost irat e. “ Now, I warned you before,” said he, t hrowing his forefinger at t he t errified client , “ t hat if you ever presum ed t o t alk in t hat way here, I 'd m ake an exam ple of you. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you t ell ME t hat ?” The client looked scared, but bewildered t oo, as if he were unconscious what he had done. 235
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Spooney! ” said t he clerk, in a low voice, giving him a st ir wit h his elbow. “ Soft Head! Need you say it face t o face?” “ Now, I ask you, you blundering booby,” said m y guardian, very st ernly, “ once m ore and for t he last t im e, what t he m an you have brought here is prepared t o swear?” Mike looked hard at m y guardian, as if he were t rying t o learn a lesson from his face, and slowly replied, “ Ayt her t o charact er, or t o having been in his com pany and never left him all t he night in quest ion.” “ Now, be careful. I n what st at ion of life is t his m an?” Mike looked at his cap, and looked at t he floor, and looked at t he ceiling, and looked at t he clerk, and even looked at m e, before beginning t o reply in a nervous m anner, “ We've dressed him up like—” when m y guardian blust ered out : “ What ? You WI LL, will you?” ( " Spooney! ” added t he clerk again, wit h anot her st ir.) Aft er som e helpless cast ing about , Mike bright ened and began again: “ He is dressed like a ‘spect able piem an. A sort of a past rycook.” “ I s he here?” asked m y guardian. “ I left him ,” said Mike, “ a set t in on som e doorst eps round t he corner.” “ Take him past t hat window, and let m e see him .” The window indicat ed, was t he office window. We all t hree went t o it , behind t he wire blind, and present ly saw t he client go by in an accident al m anner, wit h a m urderous- looking t all individual, in a short suit of whit e linen and a paper cap. This guileless confect ioner was not by any m eans sober, and had a 236
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
black eye in t he green st age of recovery, which was paint ed over. “ Tell him t o t ake his wit ness away direct ly,” said m y guardian t o t he clerk, in ext rem e disgust , “ and ask him what he m eans by bringing such a fellow as t hat .” My guardian t hen t ook m e int o his own room , and while he lunched, st anding, from a sandwich- box and a pocket flask of sherry ( he seem ed t o bully his very sandwich as he at e it ) , inform ed m e what arrangem ent s he had m ade for m e. I was t o go t o “ Barnard's I nn,” t o young Mr. Pocket 's room s, where a bed had been sent in for m y accom m odat ion; I was t o rem ain wit h young Mr. Pocket unt il Monday; on Monday I was t o go wit h him t o his fat her's house on a visit , t hat I m ight t ry how I liked it . Also, I was t old what m y allowance was t o be— it was a very liberal one—and had handed t o m e from one of m y guardian's drawers, t he cards of cert ain t radesm en wit h whom I was t o deal for all kinds of clot hes, and such ot her t hings as I could in reason want . “ You will find your credit good, Mr. Pip,” said m y guardian, whose flask of sherry sm elt like a whole cask- full, as he hast ily refreshed him self, “ but I shall by t his m eans be able t o check your bills, and t o pull you up if I find you out running t he const able. Of course you'll go wrong som ehow, but t hat 's no fault of m ine.” Aft er I had pondered a lit t le over t his encouraging sent im ent , I asked Mr. Jaggers if I could send for a coach? He said it was not wort h while, I was so near m y dest inat ion; Wem m ick should walk round wit h m e, if I pleased. I t hen found t hat Wem m ick was t he clerk in t he next room . Anot her clerk was rung down from up- st airs t o t ake his 237
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
place while he was out , and I accom panied him int o t he st reet , aft er shaking hands wit h m y guardian. We found a new set of people lingering out side, but Wem m ick m ade a way am ong t hem by saying coolly yet decisively, “ I t ell you it 's no use; he won't have a word t o say t o one of you; ” and we soon got clear of t hem , and went on side by side.
238
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 21 Cast ing m y eyes on Mr. Wem m ick as we went along, t o see what he was like in t he light of day, I found him t o be a dry m an, rat her short in st at ure, wit h a square wooden face, whose expression seem ed t o have been im perfect ly chipped out wit h a dull- edged chisel. There were som e m arks in it t hat m ight have been dim ples, if t he m at erial had been soft er and t he inst rum ent finer, but which, as it was, were only dint s. The chisel had m ade t hree or four of t hese at t em pt s at em bellishm ent over his nose, but had given t hem up wit hout an effort t o sm oot h t hem off. I j udged him t o be a bachelor from t he frayed condit ion of his linen, and he appeared t o have sust ained a good m any bereavem ent s; for, he wore at least four m ourning rings, besides a brooch represent ing a lady and a weeping willow at a t om b wit h an urn on it . I not iced, t oo, t hat several rings and seals hung at his wat ch chain, as if he were quit e laden wit h rem em brances of depart ed friends. He had glit t ering eyes—sm all, keen, and black—and t hin wide m ot t led lips. He had had t hem , t o t he best of m y belief, from fort y t o fift y years. “ So you were never in London before?” said Mr. Wem m ick t o m e. “ No,” said I . “ I was new here once,” said Mr. Wem m ick. “ Rum t o t hink of now! ” “ You are well acquaint ed wit h it now?” “ Why, yes,” said Mr. Wem m ick. “ I know t he m oves of it .” 239
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I s it a very wicked place?” I asked, m ore for t he sake of saying som et hing t han for inform at ion. “ You m ay get cheat ed, robbed, and m urdered, in London. But t here are plent y of people anywhere, who'll do t hat for you.” “ I f t here is bad blood bet ween you and t hem ,” said I , t o soft en it off a lit t le. “ Oh! I don't know about bad blood,” ret urned Mr. Wem m ick; “ t here's not m uch bad blood about . They'll do it , if t here's anyt hing t o be got by it .” “ That m akes it worse.” “ You t hink so?” ret urned Mr. Wem m ick. “ Much about t he sam e, I should say.” He wore his hat on t he back of his head, and looked st raight before him : walking in a self- cont ained way as if t here were not hing in t he st reet s t o claim his at t ent ion. His m out h was such a post office of a m out h t hat he had a m echanical appearance of sm iling. We had got t o t he t op of Holborn Hill before I knew t hat it was m erely a m echanical appearance, and t hat he was not sm iling at all. “ Do you know where Mr. Mat t hew Pocket lives?” I asked Mr. Wem m ick. “ Yes,” said he, nodding in t he direct ion. “ At Ham m ersm it h, west of London.” “ I s t hat far?” “ Well! Say five m iles.” “ Do you know him ?”
240
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Why, you're a regular cross- exam iner! ” said Mr. Wem m ick, looking at m e wit h an approving air. “ Yes, I know him . I know him ! ” There was an air of t olerat ion or depreciat ion about his ut t erance of t hese words, t hat rat her depressed m e; and I was st ill looking sideways at his block of a face in search of any encouraging not e t o t he t ext , when he said here we were at Barnard's I nn. My depression was not alleviat ed by t he announcem ent , for, I had supposed t hat est ablishm ent t o be an hot el kept by Mr. Barnard, t o which t he Blue Boar in our t own was a m ere public- house. Whereas I now found Barnard t o be a disem bodied spirit , or a fict ion, and his inn t he dingiest collect ion of shabby buildings ever squeezed t oget her in a rank corner as a club for Tom - cat s. We ent ered t his haven t hrough a wicket - gat e, and were disgorged by an int roduct ory passage int o a m elancholy lit t le square t hat looked t o m e like a flat burying- ground. I t hought it had t he m ost dism al t rees in it , and t he m ost dism al sparrows, and t he m ost dism al cat s, and t he m ost dism al houses ( in num ber half a dozen or so) , t hat I had ever seen. I t hought t he windows of t he set s of cham bers int o which t hose houses were divided, were in every st age of dilapidat ed blind and curt ain, crippled flower- pot , cracked glass, dust y decay, and m iserable m akeshift ; while To Let To Let To Let , glared at m e from em pt y room s, as if no new wret ches ever cam e t here, and t he vengeance of t he soul of Barnard were being slowly appeased by t he gradual suicide of t he present occupant s and t heir unholy int erm ent under t he gravel. A frouzy m ourning of soot and sm oke at t ired t his forlorn 241
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
creat ion of Barnard, and it had st rewn ashes on it s head, and was undergoing penance and hum iliat ion as a m ere dust - hole. Thus far m y sense of sight ; while dry rot and wet rot and all t he silent rot s t hat rot in neglect ed roof and cellar—rot of rat and m ouse and bug and coaching- st ables near at hand besides—addressed t hem selves faint ly t o m y sense of sm ell, and m oaned, “ Try Barnard's Mixt ure.” So im perfect was t his realizat ion of t he first of m y great expect at ions, t hat I looked in dism ay at Mr. Wem m ick. “ Ah! ” said he, m ist aking m e; “ t he ret irem ent rem inds you of t he count ry. So it does m e.” He led m e int o a corner and conduct ed m e up a flight of st airs—which appeared t o m e t o be slowly collapsing int o sawdust , so t hat one of t hose days t he upper lodgers would look out at t heir doors and find t hem selves wit hout t he m eans of com ing down—t o a set of cham bers on t he t op floor. MR. POCKET, JUN., was paint ed on t he door, and t here was a label on t he let t er- box, “ Ret urn short ly.” “ He hardly t hought you'd com e so soon,” Mr. Wem m ick explained. “ You don't want m e any m ore?” “ No, t hank you,” said I . “ As I keep t he cash,” Mr. Wem m ick observed, “ we shall m ost likely m eet pret t y oft en. Good day.” “ Good day.” I put out m y hand, and Mr. Wem m ick at first looked at it as if he t hought I want ed som et hing. Then he looked at m e, and said, correct ing him self, “ To be sure! Yes. You're in t he habit of shaking hands?” 242
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I was rat her confused, t hinking it m ust be out of t he London fashion, but said yes. “ I have got so out of it ! ” said Mr. Wem m ick—" except at last . Very glad, I 'm sure, t o m ake your acquaint ance. Good day! ” When we had shaken hands and he was gone, I opened t he st aircase window and had nearly beheaded m yself, for, t he lines had rot t ed away, and it cam e down like t he guillot ine. Happily it was so quick t hat I had not put m y head out . Aft er t his escape, I was cont ent t o t ake a foggy view of t he I nn t hrough t he window's encrust ing dirt , and t o st and dolefully looking out , saying t o m yself t hat London was decidedly overrat ed. Mr. Pocket , Junior's, idea of Short ly was not m ine, for I had nearly m addened m yself wit h looking out for half an hour, and had writ t en m y nam e wit h m y finger several t im es in t he dirt of every pane in t he window, before I heard foot st eps on t he st airs. Gradually t here arose before m e t he hat , head, neckclot h, waist coat , t rousers, boot s, of a m em ber of societ y of about m y own st anding. He had a paper- bag under each arm and a pot t le of st rawberries in one hand, and was out of breat h. “ Mr. Pip?” said he. “ Mr. Pocket ?” said I . “ Dear m e! ” he exclaim ed. “ I am ext rem ely sorry; but I knew t here was a coach from your part of t he count ry at m idday, and I t hought you would com e by t hat one. The fact is, I have been out on your account —not t hat t hat is any excuse—for I t hought , com ing from t he count ry, you m ight 243
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
like a lit t le fruit aft er dinner, and I went t o Covent Garden Market t o get it good.” For a reason t hat I had, I felt as if m y eyes would st art out of m y head. I acknowledged his at t ent ion incoherent ly, and began t o t hink t his was a dream . “ Dear m e! ” said Mr. Pocket , Junior. “ This door st icks so! ” As he was fast m aking j am of his fruit by wrest ling wit h t he door while t he paper- bags were under his arm s, I begged him t o allow m e t o hold t hem . He relinquished t hem wit h an agreeable sm ile, and com bat ed wit h t he door as if it were a wild beast . I t yielded so suddenly at last , t hat he st aggered back upon m e, and I st aggered back upon t he opposit e door, and we bot h laughed. But st ill I felt as if m y eyes m ust st art out of m y head, and as if t his m ust be a dream . “ Pray com e in,” said Mr. Pocket , Junior. “ Allow m e t o lead t he way. I am rat her bare here, but I hope you'll be able t o m ake out t olerably well t ill Monday. My fat her t hought you would get on m ore agreeably t hrough t o- m orrow wit h m e t han wit h him , and m ight like t o t ake a walk about London. I am sure I shall be very happy t o show London t o you. As t o our t able, you won't find t hat bad, I hope, for it will be supplied from our coffee- house here, and ( it is only right I should add) at your expense, such being Mr. Jaggers's direct ions. As t o our lodging, it 's not by any m eans splendid, because I have m y own bread t o earn, and m y fat her hasn't anyt hing t o give m e, and I shouldn't be willing t o t ake it , if he had. This is our sit t ing- room —j ust such chairs and t ables and carpet and so fort h, you see, as t hey could spare from hom e. You m ust n't give m e credit for t he t ableclot h and spoons and 244
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
cast ors, because t hey com e for you from t he coffee- house. This is m y lit t le bedroom ; rat her m ust y, but Barnard's is m ust y. This is your bed- room ; t he furnit ure's hired for t he occasion, but I t rust it will answer t he purpose; if you should want anyt hing, I 'll go and fet ch it . The cham bers are ret ired, and we shall be alone t oget her, but we shan't fight , I dare say. But , dear m e, I beg your pardon, you're holding t he fruit all t his t im e. Pray let m e t ake t hese bags from you. I am quit e asham ed.” As I st ood opposit e t o Mr. Pocket , Junior, delivering him t he bags, One, Two, I saw t he st art ing appearance com e int o his own eyes t hat I knew t o be in m ine, and he said, falling back: “ Lord bless m e, you're t he prowling boy! ” “ And you,” said I , “ are t he pale young gent lem an! ”
245
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 22 The pale young gent lem an and I st ood cont em plat ing one anot her in Barnard's I nn, unt il we bot h burst out laughing. “ The idea of it s being you! ” said he. “ The idea of it s being you! ” said I . And t hen we cont em plat ed one anot her afresh, and laughed again. “ Well! ” said t he pale young gent lem an, reaching out his hand goodhum ouredly, “ it 's all over now, I hope, and it will be m agnanim ous in you if you'll forgive m e for having knocked you about so.” I derived from t his speech t hat Mr. Herbert Pocket ( for Herbert was t he pale young gent lem an's nam e) st ill rat her confounded his int ent ion wit h his execut ion. But I m ade a m odest reply, and we shook hands warm ly. “ You hadn't com e int o your good fort une at t hat t im e?” said Herbert Pocket . “ No,” said I . “ No,” he acquiesced: “ I heard it had happened very lat ely. I was rat her on t he look- out for good- fort une t hen.” “ I ndeed?” “ Yes. Miss Havisham had sent for m e, t o see if she could t ake a fancy t o m e. But she couldn't —at all event s, she didn't .” I t hought it polit e t o rem ark t hat I was surprised t o hear t hat . “ Bad t ast e,” said Herbert , laughing, “ but a fact . Yes, she had sent for m e on a t rial visit , and if I had com e out of it successfully, I suppose I should have been provided for; 246
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
perhaps I should have been what - you- m ay- called it t o Est ella.” “ What 's t hat ?” I asked, wit h sudden gravit y. He was arranging his fruit in plat es while we t alked, which divided his at t ent ion, and was t he cause of his having m ade t his lapse of a word. “ Affianced,” he explained, st ill busy wit h t he fruit . “ Bet rot hed. Engaged. What 's- his- nam ed. Any word of t hat sort .” “ How did you bear your disappoint m ent ?” I asked. “ Pooh! ” said he, “ I didn't care m uch for it . She's a Tart ar.” “ Miss Havisham ?” “ I don't say no t o t hat , but I m eant Est ella. That girl's hard and haught y and capricious t o t he last degree, and has been brought up by Miss Havisham t o wreak revenge on all t he m ale sex.” “ What relat ion is she t o Miss Havisham ?” “ None,” said he. “ Only adopt ed.” “ Why should she wreak revenge on all t he m ale sex? What revenge?” “ Lord, Mr. Pip! ” said he. “ Don't you know?” “ No,” said I . “ Dear m e! I t 's quit e a st ory, and shall be saved t ill dinnert im e. And now let m e t ake t he libert y of asking you a quest ion. How did you com e t here, t hat day?” I t old him , and he was at t ent ive unt il I had finished, and t hen burst out laughing again, and asked m e if I was sore aft erwards? I didn't ask him if he was, for m y convict ion on t hat point was perfect ly est ablished. “ Mr. Jaggers is your guardian, I underst and?” he went on. 247
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yes.” “ You know he is Miss Havisham 's m an of business and solicit or, and has her confidence when nobody else has?” This was bringing m e ( I felt ) t owards dangerous ground. I answered wit h a const raint I m ade no at t em pt t o disguise, t hat I had seen Mr. Jaggers in Miss Havisham 's house on t he very day of our com bat , but never at any ot her t im e, and t hat I believed he had no recollect ion of having ever seen m e t here. “ He was so obliging as t o suggest m y fat her for your t ut or, and he called on m y fat her t o propose it . Of course he knew about m y fat her from his connexion wit h Miss Havisham . My fat her is Miss Havisham 's cousin; not t hat t hat im plies fam iliar int ercourse bet ween t hem , for he is a bad court ier and will not propit iat e her.” Herbert Pocket had a frank and easy way wit h him t hat was very t aking. I had never seen any one t hen, and I have never seen any one since, who m ore st rongly expressed t o m e, in every look and t one, a nat ural incapacit y t o do anyt hing secret and m ean. There was som et hing wonderfully hopeful about his general air, and som et hing t hat at t he sam e t im e whispered t o m e he would never be very successful or rich. I don't know how t his was. I becam e im bued wit h t he not ion on t hat first occasion before we sat down t o dinner, but I cannot define by what m eans. He was st ill a pale young gent lem an, and had a cert ain conquered languor about him in t he m idst of his spirit s and briskness, t hat did not seem indicat ive of nat ural st rengt h. He had not a handsom e face, but it was bet t er t han handsom e: 248
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
being ext rem ely am iable and cheerful. His figure was a lit t le ungainly, as in t he days when m y knuckles had t aken such libert ies wit h it , but it looked as if it would always be light and young. Whet her Mr. Trabb's local work would have sat m ore gracefully on him t han on m e, m ay be a quest ion; but I am conscious t hat he carried off his rat her old clot hes, m uch bet t er t han I carried off m y new suit . As he was so com m unicat ive, I felt t hat reserve on m y part would be a bad ret urn unsuit ed t o our years. I t herefore t old him m y sm all st ory, and laid st ress on m y being forbidden t o inquire who m y benefact or was. I furt her m ent ioned t hat as I had been brought up a blacksm it h in a count ry place, and knew very lit t le of t he ways of polit eness, I would t ake it as a great kindness in him if he would give m e a hint whenever he saw m e at a loss or going wrong. “ Wit h pleasure,” said he, “ t hough I vent ure t o prophesy t hat you'll want very few hint s. I dare say we shall be oft en t oget her, and I should like t o banish any needless rest raint bet ween us. Will you do m e t he favour t o begin at once t o call m e by m y Christ ian nam e, Herbert ?” I t hanked him , and said I would. I inform ed him in exchange t hat m y Christ ian nam e was Philip. “ I don't t ake t o Philip,” said he, sm iling, “ for it sounds like a m oral boy out of t he spelling- book, who was so lazy t hat he fell int o a pond, or so fat t hat he couldn't see out of his eyes, or so avaricious t hat he locked up his cake t ill t he m ice at e it , or so det erm ined t o go a bird's- nest ing t hat he got him self eat en by bears who lived handy in t he neighbourhood. I t ell 249
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
you what I should like. We are so harm onious, and you have been a blacksm it h—would you m ind it ?” “ I shouldn't m ind anyt hing t hat you propose,” I answered, “ but I don't underst and you.” “ Would you m ind Handel for a fam iliar nam e? There's a charm ing piece of m usic by Handel, called t he Harm onious Blacksm it h.” “ I should like it very m uch.” “ Then, m y dear Handel,” said he, t urning round as t he door opened, “ here is t he dinner, and I m ust beg of you t o t ake t he t op of t he t able, because t he dinner is of your providing.” This I would not hear of, so he t ook t he t op, and I faced him . I t was a nice lit t le dinner—seem ed t o m e t hen, a very Lord Mayor's Feast —and it acquired addit ional relish from being eat en under t hose independent circum st ances, wit h no old people by, and wit h London all around us. This again was height ened by a cert ain gipsy charact er t hat set t he banquet off; for, while t he t able was, as Mr. Pum blechook m ight have said, t he lap of luxury—being ent irely furnished fort h from t he coffee- house—t he circum j acent region of sit t ing- room was of a com parat ively past ureless and shift y charact er: im posing on t he wait er t he wandering habit s of put t ing t he covers on t he floor ( where he fell over t hem ) , t he m elt ed but t er in t he arm chair, t he bread on t he bookshelves, t he cheese in t he coalscut t le, and t he boiled fowl int o m y bed in t he next room —where I found m uch of it s parsley and but t er in a st at e of congelat ion when I ret ired for t he night . All t his m ade t he 250
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
feast delight ful, and when t he wait er was not t here t o wat ch m e, m y pleasure was wit hout alloy. We had m ade som e progress in t he dinner, when I rem inded Herbert of his prom ise t o t ell m e about Miss Havisham . “ True,” he replied. “ I 'll redeem it at once. Let m e int roduce t he t opic, Handel, by m ent ioning t hat in London it is not t he cust om t o put t he knife in t he m out h—for fear of accident s— and t hat while t he fork is reserved for t hat use, it is not put furt her in t han necessary. I t is scarcely wort h m ent ioning, only it 's as well t o do as ot her people do. Also, t he spoon is not generally used over- hand, but under. This has t wo advant ages. You get at your m out h bet t er ( which aft er all is t he obj ect ) , and you save a good deal of t he at t it ude of opening oyst ers, on t he part of t he right elbow.” He offered t hese friendly suggest ions in such a lively way, t hat we bot h laughed and I scarcely blushed. “ Now,” he pursued, “ concerning Miss Havisham . Miss Havisham , you m ust know, was a spoilt child. Her m ot her died when she was a baby, and her fat her denied her not hing. Her fat her was a count ry gent lem an down in your part of t he world, and was a brewer. I don't know why it should be a crack t hing t o be a brewer; but it is indisput able t hat while you cannot possibly be gent eel and bake, you m ay be as gent eel as never was and brew. You see it every day.” “ Yet a gent lem an m ay not keep a public- house; m ay he?” said I .
251
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Not on any account ,” ret urned Herbert ; “ but a publichouse m ay keep a gent lem an. Well! Mr. Havisham was very rich and very proud. So was his daught er.” “ Miss Havisham was an only child?” I hazarded. “ St op a m om ent , I am com ing t o t hat . No, she was not an only child; she had a half- brot her. Her fat her privat ely m arried again—his cook, I rat her t hink.” “ I t hought he was proud,” said I . “ My good Handel, so he was. He m arried his second wife privat ely, because he was proud, and in course of t im e she died. When she was dead, I apprehend he first t old his daught er what he had done, and t hen t he son becam e a part of t he fam ily, residing in t he house you are acquaint ed wit h. As t he son grew a young m an, he t urned out riot ous, ext ravagant , undut iful—alt oget her bad. At last his fat her disinherit ed him ; but he soft ened when he was dying, and left him well off, t hough not nearly so well off as Miss Havisham .—Take anot her glass of wine, and excuse m y m ent ioning t hat societ y as a body does not expect one t o be so st rict ly conscient ious in em pt ying one's glass, as t o t urn it bot t om upwards wit h t he rim on one's nose.” I had been doing t his, in an excess of at t ent ion t o his recit al. I t hanked him , and apologized. He said, “ Not at all,” and resum ed. “ Miss Havisham was now an heiress, and you m ay suppose was looked aft er as a great m at ch. Her half- brot her had now am ple m eans again, but what wit h debt s and what wit h new m adness wast ed t hem m ost fearfully again. There were st ronger differences bet ween him and her, t han t here had 252
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
been bet ween him and his fat her, and it is suspect ed t hat he cherished a deep and m ort al grudge against her, as having influenced t he fat her's anger. Now, I com e t o t he cruel part of t he st ory—m erely breaking off, m y dear Handel, t o rem ark t hat a dinner- napkin will not go int o a t um bler.” Why I was t rying t o pack m ine int o m y t um bler, I am wholly unable t o say. I only know t hat I found m yself, wit h a perseverance wort hy of a m uch bet t er cause, m aking t he m ost st renuous exert ions t o com press it wit hin t hose lim it s. Again I t hanked him and apologized, and again he said in t he cheerfullest m anner, “ Not at all, I am sure! ” and resum ed. “ There appeared upon t he scene—say at t he races, or t he public balls, or anywhere else you like—a cert ain m an, who m ade love t o Miss Havisham . I never saw him , for t his happened five- and- t went y years ago ( before you and I were, Handel) , but I have heard m y fat her m ent ion t hat he was a showy- m an, and t he kind of m an for t he purpose. But t hat he was not t o be, wit hout ignorance or prej udice, m ist aken for a gent lem an, m y fat her m ost st rongly asseverat es; because it is a principle of his t hat no m an who was not a t rue gent lem an at heart , ever was, since t he world began, a t rue gent lem an in m anner. He says, no varnish can hide t he grain of t he wood; and t hat t he m ore varnish you put on, t he m ore t he grain will express it self. Well! This m an pursued Miss Havisham closely, and professed t o be devot ed t o her. I believe she had not shown m uch suscept ibilit y up t o t hat t im e; but all t he suscept ibilit y she possessed, cert ainly cam e out t hen, and she passionat ely loved him . There is no doubt t hat she perfect ly idolized him . He pract ised on her affect ion 253
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in t hat syst em at ic way, t hat he got great sum s of m oney from her, and he induced her t o buy her brot her out of a share in t he brewery ( which had been weakly left him by his fat her) at an im m ense price, on t he plea t hat when he was her husband he m ust hold and m anage it all. Your guardian was not at t hat t im e in Miss Havisham 's councils, and she was t oo haught y and t oo m uch in love, t o be advised by any one. Her relat ions were poor and schem ing, wit h t he except ion of m y fat her; he was poor enough, but not t im e- serving or j ealous. The only independent one am ong t hem , he warned her t hat she was doing t oo m uch for t his m an, and was placing herself t oo unreservedly in his power. She t ook t he first opport unit y of angrily ordering m y fat her out of t he house, in his presence, and m y fat her has never seen her since.” I t hought of her having said, “ Mat t hew will com e and see m e at last when I am laid dead upon t hat t able; ” and I asked Herbert whet her his fat her was so invet erat e against her? “ I t 's not t hat ,” said he, “ but she charged him , in t he presence of her int ended husband, wit h being disappoint ed in t he hope of fawning upon her for his own advancem ent , and, if he were t o go t o her now, it would look t rue—even t o him — and even t o her. To ret urn t o t he m an and m ake an end of him . The m arriage day was fixed, t he wedding dresses were bought , t he wedding t our was planned out , t he wedding guest s were invit ed. The day cam e, but not t he bridegroom . He wrot e her a let t er—” “ Which she received,” I st ruck in, “ when she was dressing for her m arriage? At t went y m inut es t o nine?” 254
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ At t he hour and m inut e,” said Herbert , nodding, “ at which she aft erwards st opped all t he clocks. What was in it , furt her t han t hat it m ost heart lessly broke t he m arriage off, I can't t ell you, because I don't know. When she recovered from a bad illness t hat she had, she laid t he whole place wast e, as you have seen it , and she has never since looked upon t he light of day.” “ I s t hat all t he st ory?” I asked, aft er considering it . “ All I know of it ; and indeed I only know so m uch, t hrough piecing it out for m yself; for m y fat her always avoids it , and, even when Miss Havisham invit ed m e t o go t here, t old m e no m ore of it t han it was absolut ely requisit e I should underst and. But I have forgot t en one t hing. I t has been supposed t hat t he m an t o whom she gave her m isplaced confidence, act ed t hroughout in concert wit h her half- brot her; t hat it was a conspiracy bet ween t hem ; and t hat t hey shared t he profit s.” “ I wonder he didn't m arry her and get all t he propert y,” said I . “ He m ay have been m arried already, and her cruel m ort ificat ion m ay have been a part of her half- brot her's schem e,” said Herbert . “ Mind! I don't know t hat .” “ What becam e of t he t wo m en?” I asked, aft er again considering t he subj ect . “ They fell int o deeper sham e and degradat ion—if t here can be deeper—and ruin.” “ Are t hey alive now?” “ I don't know.” 255
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You said j ust now, t hat Est ella was not relat ed t o Miss Havisham , but adopt ed. When adopt ed?” Herbert shrugged his shoulders. “ There has always been an Est ella, since I have heard of a Miss Havisham . I know no m ore. And now, Handel,” said he, finally t hrowing off t he st ory as it were, “ t here is a perfect ly open underst anding bet ween us. All t hat I know about Miss Havisham , you know.” “ And all t hat I know,” I ret ort ed, “ you know.” “ I fully believe it . So t here can be no com pet it ion or perplexit y bet ween you and m e. And as t o t he condit ion on which you hold your advancem ent in life—nam ely, t hat you are not t o inquire or discuss t o whom you owe it —you m ay be very sure t hat it will never be encroached upon, or even approached, by m e, or by any one belonging t o m e.” I n t rut h, he said t his wit h so m uch delicacy, t hat I felt t he subj ect done wit h, even t hough I should be under his fat her's roof for years and years t o com e. Yet he said it wit h so m uch m eaning, t oo, t hat I felt he as perfect ly underst ood Miss Havisham t o be m y benefact ress, as I underst ood t he fact m yself. I t had not occurred t o m e before, t hat he had led up t o t he t hem e for t he purpose of clearing it out of our way; but we were so m uch t he light er and easier for having broached it , t hat I now perceived t his t o be t he case. We were very gay and sociable, and I asked him , in t he course of conversat ion, what he was? He replied, “ A capit alist —an I nsurer of Ships.” I suppose he saw m e glancing about t he room in search of som e t okens of Shipping, or capit al, for he added, “ I n t he Cit y.” 256
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I had grand ideas of t he wealt h and im port ance of I nsurers of Ships in t he Cit y, and I began t o t hink wit h awe, of having laid a young I nsurer on his back, blackened his ent erprising eye, and cut his responsible head open. But , again, t here cam e upon m e, for m y relief, t hat odd im pression t hat Herbert Pocket would never be very successful or rich. “ I shall not rest sat isfied wit h m erely em ploying m y capit al in insuring ships. I shall buy up som e good Life Assurance shares, and cut int o t he Direct ion. I shall also do a lit t le in t he m ining way. None of t hese t hings will int erfere wit h m y chart ering a few t housand t ons on m y own account . I t hink I shall t rade,” said he, leaning back in his chair, “ t o t he East I ndies, for silks, shawls, spices, dyes, drugs, and precious woods. I t 's an int erest ing t rade.” “ And t he profit s are large?” said I . “ Trem endous! ” said he. I wavered again, and began t o t hink here were great er expect at ions t han m y own. “ I t hink I shall t rade, also,” said he, put t ing his t hum bs in his waist coat pocket s, “ t o t he West I ndies, for sugar, t obacco, and rum . Also t o Ceylon, specially for elephant s’ t usks.” “ You will want a good m any ships,” said I . “ A perfect fleet ,” said he. Quit e overpowered by t he m agnificence of t hese t ransact ions, I asked him where t he ships he insured m ost ly t raded t o at present ? “ I haven't begun insuring yet ,” he replied. “ I am looking about m e.” 257
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Som ehow, t hat pursuit seem ed m ore in keeping wit h Barnard's I nn. I said ( in a t one of convict ion) , “ Ah- h! ” “ Yes. I am in a count ing- house, and looking about m e.” “ I s a count ing- house profit able?” I asked. “ To—do you m ean t o t he young fellow who's in it ?” he asked, in reply. “ Yes; t o you.” “ Why, n- no: not t o m e.” He said t his wit h t he air of one carefully reckoning up and st riking a balance. “ Not direct ly profit able. That is, it doesn't pay m e anyt hing, and I have t o—keep m yself.” This cert ainly had not a profit able appearance, and I shook m y head as if I would im ply t hat it would be difficult t o lay by m uch accum ulat ive capit al from such a source of incom e. “ But t he t hing is,” said Herbert Pocket , “ t hat you look about you. That 's t he grand t hing. You are in a count inghouse, you know, and you look about you.” I t st ruck m e as a singular im plicat ion t hat you couldn't be out of a count ing- house, you know, and look about you; but I silent ly deferred t o his experience. “ Then t he t im e com es,” said Herbert , “ when you see your opening. And you go in, and you swoop upon it and you m ake your capit al, and t hen t here you are! When you have once m ade your capit al, you have not hing t o do but em ploy it .” This was very like his way of conduct ing t hat encount er in t he garden; very like. His m anner of bearing his povert y, t oo, exact ly corresponded t o his m anner of bearing t hat defeat . I t seem ed t o m e t hat he t ook all blows and buffet s now, wit h j ust t he sam e air as he had t aken m ine t hen. I t was evident 258
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat he had not hing around him but t he sim plest necessaries, for everyt hing t hat I rem arked upon t urned out t o have been sent in on m y account from t he coffee- house or som ewhere else. Yet , having already m ade his fort une in his own m ind, he was so unassum ing wit h it t hat I felt quit e grat eful t o him for not being puffed up. I t was a pleasant addit ion t o his nat urally pleasant ways, and we got on fam ously. I n t he evening we went out for a walk in t he st reet s, and went halfprice t o t he Theat re; and next day we went t o church at West m inst er Abbey, and in t he aft ernoon we walked in t he Parks; and I wondered who shod all t he horses t here, and wished Joe did. On a m oderat e com put at ion, it was m any m ont hs, t hat Sunday, since I had left Joe and Biddy. The space int erposed bet ween m yself and t hem , part ook of t hat expansion, and our m arshes were any dist ance off. That I could have been at our old church in m y old church- going clot hes, on t he very last Sunday t hat ever was, seem ed a com binat ion of im possibilit ies, geographical and social, solar and lunar. Yet in t he London st reet s, so crowded wit h people and so brilliant ly light ed in t he dusk of evening, t here were depressing hint s of reproaches for t hat I had put t he poor old kit chen at hom e so far away; and in t he dead of night , t he foot st eps of som e incapable im post or of a port er m ooning about Barnard's I nn, under pret ence of wat ching it , fell hollow on m y heart . On t he Monday m orning at a quart er before nine, Herbert went t o t he count ing- house t o report him self—t o look about him , t oo, I suppose—and I bore him com pany. He was t o 259
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
com e away in an hour or t wo t o at t end m e t o Ham m ersm it h, and I was t o wait about for him . I t appeared t o m e t hat t he eggs from which young I nsurers were hat ched, were incubat ed in dust and heat , like t he eggs of ost riches, j udging from t he places t o which t hose incipient giant s repaired on a Monday m orning. Nor did t he count ing- house where Herbert assist ed, show in m y eyes as at all a good Observat ory; being a back second floor up a yard, of a grim y presence in all part iculars, and wit h a look int o anot her back second floor, rat her t han a look out . I wait ed about unt il it was noon, and I went upon ‘Change, and I saw fluey m en sit t ing t here under t he bills about shipping, whom I t ook t o be great m erchant s, t hough I couldn't underst and why t hey should all be out of spirit s. When Herbert cam e, we went and had lunch at a celebrat ed house which I t hen quit e venerat ed, but now believe t o have been t he m ost abj ect superst it ion in Europe, and where I could not help not icing, even t hen, t hat t here was m uch m ore gravy on t he t ableclot hs and knives and wait ers’ clot hes, t han in t he st eaks. This collat ion disposed of at a m oderat e price ( considering t he grease: which was not charged for) , we went back t o Barnard's I nn and got m y lit t le port m ant eau, and t hen t ook coach for Ham m ersm it h. We arrived t here at t wo or t hree o'clock in t he aft ernoon, and had very lit t le way t o walk t o Mr. Pocket 's house. Lift ing t he lat ch of a gat e, we passed direct int o a lit t le garden overlooking t he river, where Mr. Pocket 's children were playing about . And unless I deceive m yself on a point where m y int erest s or prepossessions are cert ainly not concerned, I saw t hat Mr. and Mrs. Pocket 's 260
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
children were not growing up or being brought up, but were t um bling up. Mrs. Pocket was sit t ing on a garden chair under a t ree, reading, wit h her legs upon anot her garden chair; and Mrs. Pocket 's t wo nursem aids were looking about t hem while t he children played. “ Mam m a,” said Herbert , “ t his is young Mr. Pip.” Upon which Mrs. Pocket received m e wit h an appearance of am iable dignit y. “ Mast er Alick and Miss Jane,” cried one of t he nurses t o t wo of t he children, “ if you go a- bouncing up against t hem bushes you'll fall over int o t he river and be drownded, and what 'll your pa say t hen?” At t he sam e t im e t his nurse picked up Mrs. Pocket 's handkerchief, and said, “ I f t hat don't m ake six t im es you've dropped it , Mum ! ” Upon which Mrs. Pocket laughed and said, “ Thank you, Flopson,” and set t ling herself in one chair only, resum ed her book. Her count enance im m ediat ely assum ed a knit t ed and int ent expression as if she had been reading for a week, but before she could have read half a dozen lines, she fixed her eyes upon m e, and said, “ I hope your m am m a is quit e well?” This unexpect ed inquiry put m e int o such a difficult y t hat I began saying in t he absurdest way t hat if t here had been any such person I had no doubt she would have been quit e well and would have been very m uch obliged and would have sent her com plim ent s, when t he nurse cam e t o m y rescue. “ Well! ” she cried, picking up t he pocket handkerchief, “ if t hat don't m ake seven t im es! What ARE you a- doing of t his aft ernoon, Mum ! ” Mrs. Pocket received her propert y, at first 261
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit h a look of unut t erable surprise as if she had never seen it before, and t hen wit h a laugh of recognit ion, and said, “ Thank you, Flopson,” and forgot m e, and went on reading. I found, now I had leisure t o count t hem , t hat t here were no fewer t han six lit t le Pocket s present , in various st ages of t um bling up. I had scarcely arrived at t he t ot al when a sevent h was heard, as in t he region of air, wailing dolefully. “ I f t here ain't Baby! ” said Flopson, appearing t o t hink it m ost surprising. “ Make hast e up, Millers.” Millers, who was t he ot her nurse, ret ired int o t he house, and by degrees t he child's wailing was hushed and st opped, as if it were a young vent riloquist wit h som et hing in it s m out h. Mrs. Pocket read all t he t im e, and I was curious t o know what t he book could be. We were wait ing, I supposed, for Mr. Pocket t o com e out t o us; at any rat e we wait ed t here, and so I had an opport unit y of observing t he rem arkable fam ily phenom enon t hat whenever any of t he children st rayed near Mrs. Pocket in t heir play, t hey always t ripped t hem selves up and t um bled over her—always very m uch t o her m om ent ary ast onishm ent , and t heir own m ore enduring lam ent at ion. I was at a loss t o account for t his surprising circum st ance, and could not help giving m y m ind t o speculat ions about it , unt il by- and- by Millers cam e down wit h t he baby, which baby was handed t o Flopson, which Flopson was handing it t o Mrs. Pocket , when she t oo went fairly head forem ost over Mrs. Pocket , baby and all, and was caught by Herbert and m yself. “ Gracious m e, Flopson! ” said Mrs. Pocket , looking off her book for a m om ent , “ everybody's t um bling! ” 262
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Gracious you, indeed, Mum ! ” ret urned Flopson, very red in t he face; “ what have you got t here?” “ I got here, Flopson?” asked Mrs. Pocket . “ Why, if it ain't your foot st ool! ” cried Flopson. “ And if you keep it under your skirt s like t hat , who's t o help t um bling? Here! Take t he baby, Mum , and give m e your book.” Mrs. Pocket act ed on t he advice, and inexpert ly danced t he infant a lit t le in her lap, while t he ot her children played about it . This had last ed but a very short t im e, when Mrs. Pocket issued sum m ary orders t hat t hey were all t o be t aken int o t he house for a nap. Thus I m ade t he second discovery on t hat first occasion, t hat t he nurt ure of t he lit t le Pocket s consist ed of alt ernat ely t um bling up and lying down. Under t hese circum st ances, when Flopson and Millers had got t he children int o t he house, like a lit t le flock of sheep, and Mr. Pocket cam e out of it t o m ake m y acquaint ance, I was not m uch surprised t o find t hat Mr. Pocket was a gent lem an wit h a rat her perplexed expression of face, and wit h his very grey hair disordered on his head, as if he didn't quit e see his way t o put t ing anyt hing st raight .
263
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 23 Mr. Pocket said he was glad t o see m e, and he hoped I was not sorry t o see him . “ For, I really am not ,” he added, wit h his son's sm ile, “ an alarm ing personage.” He was a younglooking m an, in spit e of his perplexit ies and his very grey hair, and his m anner seem ed quit e nat ural. I use t he word nat ural, in t he sense of it s being unaffect ed; t here was som et hing com ic in his dist raught way, as t hough it would have been downright ludicrous but for his own percept ion t hat it was very near being so. When he had t alked wit h m e a lit t le, he said t o Mrs. Pocket , wit h a rat her anxious cont ract ion of his eyebrows, which were black and handsom e, “ Belinda, I hope you have welcom ed Mr. Pip?” And she looked up from her book, and said, “ Yes.” She t hen sm iled upon m e in an absent st at e of m ind, and asked m e if I liked t he t ast e of orange- flower wat er? As t he quest ion had no bearing, near or rem ot e, on any foregone or subsequent t ransact ion, I consider it t o have been t hrown out , like her previous approaches, in general conversat ional condescension. I found out wit hin a few hours, and m ay m ent ion at once, t hat Mrs. Pocket was t he only daught er of a cert ain quit e accident al deceased Knight , who had invent ed for him self a convict ion t hat his deceased fat her would have been m ade a Baronet but for som ebody's det erm ined opposit ion arising out of ent irely personal m ot ives—I forget whose, if I ever knew— t he Sovereign's, t he Prim e Minist er's, t he Lord Chancellor's, t he Archbishop of Cant erbury's, anybody's—and had t acked 264
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him self on t o t he nobles of t he eart h in right of t his quit e supposit it ious fact . I believe he had been knight ed him self for st orm ing t he English gram m ar at t he point of t he pen, in a desperat e address engrossed on vellum , on t he occasion of t he laying of t he first st one of som e building or ot her, and for handing som e Royal Personage eit her t he t rowel or t he m ort ar. Be t hat as it m ay, he had direct ed Mrs. Pocket t o be brought up from her cradle as one who in t he nat ure of t hings m ust m arry a t it le, and who was t o be guarded from t he acquisit ion of plebeian dom est ic knowledge. So successful a wat ch and ward had been est ablished over t he young lady by t his j udicious parent , t hat she had grown up highly ornam ent al, but perfect ly helpless and useless. Wit h her charact er t hus happily form ed, in t he first bloom of her yout h she had encount ered Mr. Pocket : who was also in t he first bloom of yout h, and not quit e decided whet her t o m ount t o t he Woolsack, or t o roof him self in wit h a m it re. As his doing t he one or t he ot her was a m ere quest ion of t im e, he and Mrs. Pocket had t aken Tim e by t he forelock ( when, t o j udge from it s lengt h, it would seem t o have want ed cut t ing) , and had m arried wit hout t he knowledge of t he j udicious parent . The j udicious parent , having not hing t o best ow or wit hhold but his blessing, had handsom ely set t led t hat dower upon t hem aft er a short st ruggle, and had inform ed Mr. Pocket t hat his wife was “ a t reasure for a Prince.” Mr. Pocket had invest ed t he Prince's t reasure in t he ways of t he world ever since, and it was supposed t o have brought him in but indifferent int erest . St ill, Mrs. Pocket was in general t he obj ect of a queer sort of respect ful pit y, because she had not 265
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m arried a t it le; while Mr. Pocket was t he obj ect of a queer sort of forgiving reproach, because he had never got one. Mr. Pocket t ook m e int o t he house and showed m e m y room : which was a pleasant one, and so furnished as t hat I could use it wit h com fort for m y own privat e sit t ing- room . He t hen knocked at t he doors of t wo ot her sim ilar room s, and int roduced m e t o t heir occupant s, by nam e Drum m le and St art op. Drum m le, an old- looking young m an of a heavy order of archit ect ure, was whist ling. St art op, younger in years and appearance, was reading and holding his head, as if he t hought him self in danger of exploding it wit h t oo st rong a charge of knowledge. Bot h Mr. and Mrs. Pocket had such a not iceable air of being in som ebody else's hands, t hat I wondered who really was in possession of t he house and let t hem live t here, unt il I found t his unknown power t o be t he servant s. I t was a sm oot h way of going on, perhaps, in respect of saving t rouble; but it had t he appearance of being expensive, for t he servant s felt it a dut y t hey owed t o t hem selves t o be nice in t heir eat ing and drinking, and t o keep a deal of com pany down st airs. They allowed a very liberal t able t o Mr. and Mrs. Pocket , yet it always appeared t o m e t hat by far t he best part of t he house t o have boarded in, would have been t he kit chen—always supposing t he boarder capable of selfdefence, for, before I had been t here a week, a neighbouring lady wit h whom t he fam ily were personally unacquaint ed, wrot e in t o say t hat she had seen Millers slapping t he baby. This great ly dist ressed Mrs. Pocket , who burst int o t ears on 266
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
receiving t he not e, and said t hat it was an ext raordinary t hing t hat t he neighbours couldn't m ind t heir own business. By degrees I learnt , and chiefly from Herbert , t hat Mr. Pocket had been educat ed at Harrow and at Cam bridge, where he had dist inguished him self; but t hat when he had had t he happiness of m arrying Mrs. Pocket very early in life, he had im paired his prospect s and t aken up t he calling of a Grinder. Aft er grinding a num ber of dull blades—of whom it was rem arkable t hat t heir fat hers, when influent ial, were always going t o help him t o preferm ent , but always forgot t o do it when t he blades had left t he Grindst one—he had wearied of t hat poor work and had com e t o London. Here, aft er gradually failing in loft ier hopes, he had “ read” wit h divers who had lacked opport unit ies or neglect ed t hem , and had refurbished divers ot hers for special occasions, and had t urned his acquirem ent s t o t he account of lit erary com pilat ion and correct ion, and on such m eans, added t o som e very m oderat e privat e resources, st ill m aint ained t he house I saw. Mr. and Mrs. Pocket had a t oady neighbour; a widow lady of t hat highly sym pat het ic nat ure t hat she agreed wit h everybody, blessed everybody, and shed sm iles and t ears on everybody, according t o circum st ances. This lady's nam e was Mrs. Coiler, and I had t he honour of t aking her down t o dinner on t he day of m y inst allat ion. She gave m e t o underst and on t he st airs, t hat it was a blow t o dear Mrs. Pocket t hat dear Mr. Pocket should be under t he necessit y of receiving gent lem en t o read wit h him . That did not ext end t o m e, she t old m e in a gush of love and confidence ( at t hat 267
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t im e, I had known her som et hing less t han five m inut es) ; if t hey were all like Me, it would be quit e anot her t hing. “ But dear Mrs. Pocket ,” said Mrs. Coiler, “ aft er her early disappoint m ent ( not t hat dear Mr. Pocket was t o blam e in t hat ) , requires so m uch luxury and elegance—” “ Yes, m a'am ,” I said, t o st op her, for I was afraid she was going t o cry. “ And she is of so arist ocrat ic a disposit ion—” “ Yes, m a'am ,” I said again, wit h t he sam e obj ect as before. “ —t hat it is hard,” said Mrs. Coiler, “ t o have dear Mr. Pocket 's t im e and at t ent ion divert ed from dear Mrs. Pocket .” I could not help t hinking t hat it m ight be harder if t he but cher's t im e and at t ent ion were divert ed from dear Mrs. Pocket ; but I said not hing, and indeed had enough t o do in keeping a bashful wat ch upon m y com pany- m anners. I t cam e t o m y knowledge, t hrough what passed bet ween Mrs. Pocket and Drum m le while I was at t ent ive t o m y knife and fork, spoon, glasses, and ot her inst rum ent s of selfdest ruct ion, t hat Drum m le, whose Christ ian nam e was Bent ley, was act ually t he next heir but one t o a baronet cy. I t furt her appeared t hat t he book I had seen Mrs. Pocket reading in t he garden, was all about t it les, and t hat she knew t he exact dat e at which her grandpapa would have com e int o t he book, if he ever had com e at all. Drum m le didn't say m uch, but in his lim it ed way ( he st ruck m e as a sulky kind of fellow) he spoke as one of t he elect , and recognized Mrs. Pocket as a wom an and a sist er. No one but t hem selves and Mrs. Coiler t he t oady neighbour showed any int erest in t his 268
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
part of t he conversat ion, and it appeared t o m e t hat it was painful t o Herbert ; but it prom ised t o last a long t im e, when t he page cam e in wit h t he announcem ent of a dom est ic afflict ion. I t was, in effect , t hat t he cook had m islaid t he beef. To m y unut t erable am azem ent , I now, for t he first t im e, saw Mr. Pocket relieve his m ind by going t hrough a perform ance t hat st ruck m e as very ext raordinary, but which m ade no im pression on anybody else, and wit h which I soon becam e as fam iliar as t he rest . He laid down t he carving- knife and fork— being engaged in carving, at t he m om ent —put his t wo hands int o his dist urbed hair, and appeared t o m ake an ext raordinary effort t o lift him self up by it . When he had done t his, and had not lift ed him self up at all, he quiet ly went on wit h what he was about . Mrs. Coiler t hen changed t he subj ect , and began t o flat t er m e. I liked it for a few m om ent s, but she flat t ered m e so very grossly t hat t he pleasure was soon over. She had a serpent ine way of com ing close at m e when she pret ended t o be vit ally int erest ed in t he friends and localit ies I had left , which was alt oget her snaky and fork- t ongued; and when she m ade an occasional bounce upon St art op ( who said very lit t le t o her) , or upon Drum m le ( who said less) , I rat her envied t hem for being on t he opposit e side of t he t able. Aft er dinner t he children were int roduced, and Mrs. Coiler m ade adm iring com m ent s on t heir eyes, noses, and legs—a sagacious way of im proving t heir m inds. There were four lit t le girls, and t wo lit t le boys, besides t he baby who m ight have been eit her, and t he baby's next successor who was as yet neit her. They were brought in by Flopson and Millers, m uch 269
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
as t hough t hose t wo noncom m issioned officers had been recruit ing som ewhere for children and had enlist ed t hese: while Mrs. Pocket looked at t he young Nobles t hat ought t o have been, as if she rat her t hought she had had t he pleasure of inspect ing t hem before, but didn't quit e know what t o m ake of t hem . “ Here! Give m e your fork, Mum , and t ake t he baby,” said Flopson. “ Don't t ake it t hat way, or you'll get it s head under t he t able.” Thus advised, Mrs. Pocket t ook it t he ot her way, and got it s head upon t he t able; which was announced t o all present by a prodigious concussion. “ Dear, dear! Give it m e back, Mum ,” said Flopson; “ and Miss Jane, com e and dance t o baby, do! ” One of t he lit t le girls, a m ere m it e who seem ed t o have prem at urely t aken upon herself som e charge of t he ot hers, st epped out of her place by m e, and danced t o and from t he baby unt il it left off crying, and laughed. Then, all t he children laughed, and Mr. Pocket ( who in t he m eant im e had t wice endeavoured t o lift him self up by t he hair) laughed, and we all laughed and were glad. Flopson, by dint of doubling t he baby at t he j oint s like a Dut ch doll, t hen got it safely int o Mrs. Pocket 's lap, and gave it t he nut crackers t o play wit h: at t he sam e t im e recom m ending Mrs. Pocket t o t ake not ice t hat t he handles of t hat inst rum ent were not likely t o agree wit h it s eyes, and sharply charging Miss Jane t o look aft er t he sam e. Then, t he t wo nurses left t he room , and had a lively scuffle on t he 270
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
st aircase wit h a dissipat ed page who had wait ed at dinner, and who had clearly lost half his but t ons at t he gam ingt able. I was m ade very uneasy in m y m ind by Mrs. Pocket 's falling int o a discussion wit h Drum m le respect ing t wo baronet cies, while she at e a sliced orange st eeped in sugar and wine, and forget t ing all about t he baby on her lap: who did m ost appalling t hings wit h t he nut crackers. At lengt h, lit t le Jane perceiving it s young brains t o be im perilled, soft ly left her place, and wit h m any sm all art ifices coaxed t he dangerous weapon away. Mrs. Pocket finishing her orange at about t he sam e t im e, and not approving of t his, said t o Jane: “ You naught y child, how dare you? Go and sit down t his inst ant ! ” “ Mam m a dear,” lisped t he lit t le girl, “ baby ood have put hit h eyet h out .” “ How dare you t ell m e so?” ret ort ed Mrs. Pocket . “ Go and sit down in your chair t his m om ent ! ” Mrs. Pocket 's dignit y was so crushing, t hat I felt quit e abashed: as if I m yself had done som et hing t o rouse it . “ Belinda,” rem onst rat ed Mr. Pocket , from t he ot her end of t he t able, “ how can you be so unreasonable? Jane only int erfered for t he prot ect ion of baby.” “ I will not allow anybody t o int erfere,” said Mrs. Pocket . “ I am surprised, Mat t hew, t hat you should expose m e t o t he affront of int erference.” “ Good God! ” cried Mr. Pocket , in an out break of desolat e desperat ion. “ Are infant s t o be nut crackered int o t heir t om bs, and is nobody t o save t hem ?” 271
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I will not be int erfered wit h by Jane,” said Mrs. Pocket , wit h a m aj est ic glance at t hat innocent lit t le offender. “ I hope I know m y poor grandpapa's posit ion. Jane, indeed! ” Mr. Pocket got his hands in his hair again, and t his t im e really did lift him self som e inches out of his chair. “ Hear t his! ” he helplessly exclaim ed t o t he elem ent s. “ Babies are t o be nut crackered dead, for people's poor grandpapa's posit ions! ” Then he let him self down again, and becam e silent . We all looked awkwardly at t he t able- clot h while t his was going on. A pause succeeded, during which t he honest and irrepressible baby m ade a series of leaps and crows at lit t le Jane, who appeared t o m e t o be t he only m em ber of t he fam ily ( irrespect ive of servant s) wit h whom it had any decided acquaint ance. “ Mr. Drum m le,” said Mrs. Pocket , “ will you ring for Flopson? Jane, you undut iful lit t le t hing, go and lie down. Now, baby darling, com e wit h m a! ” The baby was t he soul of honour, and prot est ed wit h all it s m ight . I t doubled it self up t he wrong way over Mrs. Pocket 's arm , exhibit ed a pair of knit t ed shoes and dim pled ankles t o t he com pany in lieu of it s soft face, and was carried out in t he highest st at e of m ut iny. And it gained it s point aft er all, for I saw it t hrough t he window wit hin a few m inut es, being nursed by lit t le Jane. I t happened t hat t he ot her five children were left behind at t he dinner- t able, t hrough Flopson's having som e privat e engagem ent , and t heir not being anybody else's business. I t hus becam e aware of t he m ut ual relat ions bet ween t hem and Mr. Pocket , which were exem plified in t he following m anner. 272
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Mr. Pocket , wit h t he norm al perplexit y of his face height ened and his hair rum pled, looked at t hem for som e m inut es, as if he couldn't m ake out how t hey cam e t o be boarding and lodging in t hat est ablishm ent , and why t hey hadn't been billet ed by Nat ure on som ebody else. Then, in a dist ant , Missionary way he asked t hem cert ain quest ions—as why lit t le Joe had t hat hole in his frill: who said, Pa, Flopson was going t o m end it when she had t im e—and how lit t le Fanny cam e by t hat whit low: who said, Pa, Millers was going t o poult ice it when she didn't forget . Then, he m elt ed int o parent al t enderness, and gave t hem a shilling apiece and t old t hem t o go and play; and t hen as t hey went out , wit h one very st rong effort t o lift him self up by t he hair he dism issed t he hopeless subj ect . I n t he evening t here was rowing on t he river. As Drum m le and St art op had each a boat , I resolved t o set up m ine, and t o cut t hem bot h out . I was pret t y good at m ost exercises in which count ryboys are adept s, but , as I was conscious of want ing elegance of st yle for t he Tham es—not t o say for ot her wat ers—I at once engaged t o place m yself under t he t uit ion of t he winner of a prizewherry who plied at our st airs, and t o whom I was int roduced by m y new allies. This pract ical aut horit y confused m e very m uch, by saying I had t he arm of a blacksm it h. I f he could have known how nearly t he com plim ent lost him his pupil, I doubt if he would have paid it . There was a supper- t ray aft er we got hom e at night , and I t hink we should all have enj oyed ourselves, but for a rat her disagreeable dom est ic occurrence. Mr. Pocket was in good 273
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
spirit s, when a housem aid cam e in, and said, “ I f you please, sir, I should wish t o speak t o you.” “ Speak t o your m ast er?” said Mrs. Pocket , whose dignit y was roused again. “ How can you t hink of such a t hing? Go and speak t o Flopson. Or speak t o m e—at som e ot her t im e.” “ Begging your pardon, m a'am ,” ret urned t he housem aid, “ I should wish t o speak at once, and t o speak t o m ast er.” Hereupon, Mr. Pocket went out of t he room , and we m ade t he best of ourselves unt il he cam e back. “ This is a pret t y t hing, Belinda! ” said Mr. Pocket , ret urning wit h a count enance expressive of grief and despair. “ Here's t he cook lying insensibly drunk on t he kit chen floor, wit h a large bundle of fresh but t er m ade up in t he cupboard ready t o sell for grease! ” Mrs. Pocket inst ant ly showed m uch am iable em ot ion, and said, “ This is t hat odious Sophia's doing! ” “ What do you m ean, Belinda?” dem anded Mr. Pocket . “ Sophia has t old you,” said Mrs. Pocket . “ Did I not see her wit h m y own eyes and hear her wit h m y own ears, com e int o t he room j ust now and ask t o speak t o you?” “ But has she not t aken m e down st airs, Belinda,” ret urned Mr. Pocket , “ and shown m e t he wom an, and t he bundle t oo?” “ And do you defend her, Mat t hew,” said Mrs. Pocket , “ for m aking m ischief?” Mr. Pocket ut t ered a dism al groan. “ Am I , grandpapa's granddaught er, t o be not hing in t he house?” said Mrs. Pocket . “ Besides, t he cook has always been a very nice respect ful wom an, and said in t he m ost nat ural 274
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m anner when she cam e t o look aft er t he sit uat ion, t hat she felt I was born t o be a Duchess.” There was a sofa where Mr. Pocket st ood, and he dropped upon it in t he at t it ude of t he Dying Gladiat or. St ill in t hat at t it ude he said, wit h a hollow voice, “ Good night , Mr. Pip,” when I deem ed it advisable t o go t o bed and leave him .
275
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 24 Aft er t wo or t hree days, when I had est ablished m yself in m y room and had gone backwards and forwards t o London several t im es, and had ordered all I want ed of m y t radesm en, Mr. Pocket and I had a long t alk t oget her. He knew m ore of m y int ended career t han I knew m yself, for he referred t o his having been t old by Mr. Jaggers t hat I was not designed for any profession, and t hat I should be well enough educat ed for m y dest iny if I could “ hold m y own” wit h t he average of young m en in prosperous circum st ances. I acquiesced, of course, knowing not hing t o t he cont rary. He advised m y at t ending cert ain places in London, for t he acquisit ion of such m ere rudim ent s as I want ed, and m y invest ing him wit h t he funct ions of explainer and direct or of all m y st udies. He hoped t hat wit h int elligent assist ance I should m eet wit h lit t le t o discourage m e, and should soon be able t o dispense wit h any aid but his. Through his way of saying t his, and m uch m ore t o sim ilar purpose, he placed him self on confident ial t erm s wit h m e in an adm irable m anner; and I m ay st at e at once t hat he was always so zealous and honourable in fulfilling his com pact wit h m e, t hat he m ade m e zealous and honourable in fulfilling m ine wit h him . I f he had shown indifference as a m ast er, I have no doubt I should have ret urned t he com plim ent as a pupil; he gave m e no such excuse, and each of us did t he ot her j ust ice. Nor, did I ever regard him as having anyt hing ludicrous about 276
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him —or anyt hing but what was serious, honest , and good—in his t ut or com m unicat ion wit h m e. When t hese point s were set t led, and so far carried out as t hat I had begun t o work in earnest , it occurred t o m e t hat if I could ret ain m y bedroom in Barnard's I nn, m y life would be agreeably varied, while m y m anners would be none t he worse for Herbert 's societ y. Mr. Pocket did not obj ect t o t his arrangem ent , but urged t hat before any st ep could possibly be t aken in it , it m ust be subm it t ed t o m y guardian. I felt t hat t his delicacy arose out of t he considerat ion t hat t he plan would save Herbert som e expense, so I went off t o Lit t le Brit ain and im part ed m y wish t o Mr. Jaggers. “ I f I could buy t he furnit ure now hired for m e,” said I , “ and one or t wo ot her lit t le t hings, I should be quit e at hom e t here.” “ Go it ! ” said Mr. Jaggers, wit h a short laugh. “ I t old you you'd get on. Well! How m uch do you want ?” I said I didn't know how m uch. “ Com e! ” ret ort ed Mr. Jaggers. “ How m uch? Fift y pounds?” “ Oh, not nearly so m uch.” “ Five pounds?” said Mr. Jaggers. This was such a great fall, t hat I said in discom fit ure, “ Oh! m ore t han t hat .” “ More t han t hat , eh! ” ret ort ed Mr. Jaggers, lying in wait for m e, wit h his hands in his pocket s, his head on one side, and his eyes on t he wall behind m e; “ how m uch m ore?” “ I t is so difficult t o fix a sum ,” said I , hesit at ing.
277
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Com e! ” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Let 's get at it . Twice five; will t hat do? Three t im es five; will t hat do? Four t im es five; will t hat do?” I said I t hought t hat would do handsom ely. “ Four t im es five will do handsom ely, will it ?” said Mr. Jaggers, knit t ing his brows. “ Now, what do you m ake of four t im es five?” “ What do I m ake of it ?” “ Ah! ” said Mr. Jaggers; “ how m uch?” “ I suppose you m ake it t went y pounds,” said I , sm iling. “ Never m ind what I m ake it , m y friend,” observed Mr. Jaggers, wit h a knowing and cont radict ory t oss of his head. “ I want t o know what you m ake it .” “ Twent y pounds, of course.” “ Wem m ick! ” said Mr. Jaggers, opening his office door. “ Take Mr. Pip's writ t en order, and pay him t went y pounds.” This st rongly m arked way of doing business m ade a st rongly m arked im pression on m e, and t hat not of an agreeable kind. Mr. Jaggers never laughed; but he wore great bright creaking boot s, and, in poising him self on t hese boot s, wit h his large head bent down and his eyebrows j oined t oget her, await ing an answer, he som et im es caused t he boot s t o creak, as if t hey laughed in a dry and suspicious way. As he happened t o go out now, and as Wem m ick was brisk and t alkat ive, I said t o Wem m ick t hat I hardly knew what t o m ake of Mr. Jaggers's m anner. “ Tell him t hat , and he'll t ake it as a com plim ent ,” answered Wem m ick; “ he don't m ean t hat you should know what t o 278
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m ake of it .—Oh! ” for I looked surprised, “ it 's not personal; it 's professional: only professional.” Wem m ick was at his desk, lunching—and crunching—on a dry hard biscuit ; pieces of which he t hrew from t im e t o t im e int o his slit of a m out h, as if he were post ing t hem . “ Always seem s t o m e,” said Wem m ick, “ as if he had set a m ant rap and was wat ching it . Suddenly—click—you're caught ! ” Wit hout rem arking t hat m ant raps were not am ong t he am enit ies of life, I said I supposed he was very skilful? “ Deep,” said Wem m ick, “ as Aust ralia.” Point ing wit h his pen at t he office floor, t o express t hat Aust ralia was underst ood, for t he purposes of t he figure, t o be sym m et rically on t he opposit e spot of t he globe. “ I f t here was anyt hing deeper,” added Wem m ick, bringing his pen t o paper, “ he'd be it .” Then, I said I supposed he had a fine business, and Wem m ick said, “ Ca- pi- t al! ” Then I asked if t here were m any clerks? t o which he replied: “ We don't run m uch int o clerks, because t here's only one Jaggers, and people won't have him at second- hand. There are only four of us. Would you like t o see ‘em ? You are one of us, as I m ay say.” I accept ed t he offer. When Mr. Wem m ick had put all t he biscuit int o t he post , and had paid m e m y m oney from a cash- box in a safe, t he key of which safe he kept som ewhere down his back and produced from his coat - collar like an iron pigt ail, we went up- st airs. The house was dark and shabby, and t he greasy shoulders t hat had left t heir m ark in Mr. 279
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Jaggers's room , seem ed t o have been shuffling up and down t he st aircase for years. I n t he front first floor, a clerk who looked som et hing bet ween a publican and a rat - cat cher—a large pale puffed swollen m an—was at t ent ively engaged wit h t hree or four people of shabby appearance, whom he t reat ed as uncerem oniously as everybody seem ed t o be t reat ed who cont ribut ed t o Mr. Jaggers's coffers. “ Get t ing evidence t oget her,” said Mr. Wem m ick, as we cam e out , “ for t he Bailey.” I n t he room over t hat , a lit t le flabby t errier of a clerk wit h dangling hair ( his cropping seem ed t o have been forgot t en when he was a puppy) was sim ilarly engaged wit h a m an wit h weak eyes, whom Mr. Wem m ick present ed t o m e as a sm elt er who kept his pot always boiling, and who would m elt m e anyt hing I pleased—and who was in an excessive whit eperspirat ion, as if he had been t rying his art on him self. I n a back room , a high- shouldered m an wit h a face- ache t ied up in dirt y flannel, who was dressed in old black clot hes t hat bore t he appearance of having been waxed, was st ooping over his work of m aking fair copies of t he not es of t he ot her t wo gent lem en, for Mr. Jaggers's own use. This was all t he est ablishm ent . When we went down- st airs again, Wem m ick led m e int o m y guardian's room , and said, “ This you've seen already.” “ Pray,” said I , as t he t wo odious cast s wit h t he t wit chy leer upon t hem caught m y sight again, “ whose likenesses are t hose?” “ These?” said Wem m ick, get t ing upon a chair, and blowing t he dust off t he horrible heads before bringing t hem down. 280
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ These are t wo celebrat ed ones. Fam ous client s of ours t hat got us a world of credit . This chap ( why you m ust have com e down in t he night and been peeping int o t he inkst and, t o get t his blot upon your eyebrow, you old rascal! ) m urdered his m ast er, and, considering t hat he wasn't brought up t o evidence, didn't plan it badly.” “ I s it like him ?” I asked, recoiling from t he brut e, as Wem m ick spat upon his eyebrow and gave it a rub wit h his sleeve. “ Like him ? I t 's him self, you know. The cast was m ade in Newgat e, direct ly aft er he was t aken down. You had a part icular fancy for m e, hadn't you, Old Art ful?” said Wem m ick. He t hen explained t his affect ionat e apost rophe, by t ouching his brooch represent ing t he lady and t he weeping willow at t he t om b wit h t he urn upon it , and saying, “ Had it m ade for m e, express! ” “ I s t he lady anybody?” said I . “ No,” ret urned Wem m ick. “ Only his gam e. ( You liked your bit of gam e, didn't you?) No; deuce a bit of a lady in t he case, Mr. Pip, except one—and she wasn't of t his slender ladylike sort , and you wouldn't have caught her looking aft er t his urn—unless t here was som et hing t o drink in it .” Wem m ick's at t ent ion being t hus direct ed t o his brooch, he put down t he cast , and polished t he brooch wit h his pocket - handkerchief. “ Did t hat ot her creat ure com e t o t he sam e end?” I asked. “ He has t he sam e look.” “ You're right ,” said Wem m ick; “ it 's t he genuine look. Much as if one nost ril was caught up wit h a horsehair and a lit t le fish- hook. Yes, he cam e t o t he sam e end; quit e t he nat ural 281
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
end here, I assure you. He forged wills, t his blade did, if he didn't also put t he supposed t est at ors t o sleep t oo. You were a gent lem anly Cove, t hough” ( Mr. Wem m ick was again apost rophizing) , “ and you said you could writ e Greek. Yah, Bounceable! What a liar you were! I never m et such a liar as you! ” Before put t ing his lat e friend on his shelf again, Wem m ick t ouched t he largest of his m ourning rings and said, “ Sent out t o buy it for m e, only t he day before.” While he was put t ing up t he ot her cast and com ing down from t he chair, t he t hought crossed m y m ind t hat all his personal j ewellery was derived from like sources. As he had shown no diffidence on t he subj ect , I vent ured on t he libert y of asking him t he quest ion, when he st ood before m e, dust ing his hands. “ Oh yes,” he ret urned, “ t hese are all gift s of t hat kind. One brings anot her, you see; t hat 's t he way of it . I always t ake ‘em . They're curiosit ies. And t hey're propert y. They m ay not be wort h m uch, but , aft er all, t hey're propert y and port able. I t don't signify t o you wit h your brilliant look- out , but as t o m yself, m y guidingst ar always is, “ Get hold of port able propert y" .” When I had rendered hom age t o t his light , he went on t o say, in a friendly m anner: “ I f at any odd t im e when you have not hing bet t er t o do, you wouldn't m ind com ing over t o see m e at Walwort h, I could offer you a bed, and I should consider it an honour. I have not m uch t o show you; but such t wo or t hree curiosit ies as I have got , you m ight like t o look over; and I am fond of a bit of garden and a sum m er- house.” 282
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I said I should be delight ed t o accept his hospit alit y. “ Thankee,” said he; “ t hen we'll consider t hat it 's t o com e off, when convenient t o you. Have you dined wit h Mr. Jaggers yet ?” “ Not yet .” “ Well,” said Wem m ick, “ he'll give you wine, and good wine. I 'll give you punch, and not bad punch. and now I 'll t ell you som et hing. When you go t o dine wit h Mr. Jaggers, look at his housekeeper.” “ Shall I see som et hing very uncom m on?” “ Well,” said Wem m ick, “ you'll see a wild beast t am ed. Not so very uncom m on, you'll t ell m e. I reply, t hat depends on t he original wildness of t he beast , and t he am ount of t am ing. I t won't lower your opinion of Mr. Jaggers's powers. Keep your eye on it .” I t old him I would do so, wit h all t he int erest and curiosit y t hat his preparat ion awakened. As I was t aking m y depart ure, he asked m e if I would like t o devot e five m inut es t o seeing Mr. Jaggers “ at it ?” For several reasons, and not least because I didn't clearly know what Mr. Jaggers would be found t o be “ at ,” I replied in t he affirm at ive. We dived int o t he Cit y, and cam e up in a crowded policecourt , where a blood- relat ion ( in t he m urderous sense) of t he deceased wit h t he fanciful t ast e in brooches, was st anding at t he bar, uncom fort ably chewing som et hing; while m y guardian had a wom an under exam inat ion or cross- exam inat ion—I don't know which—and was st riking her, and t he bench, and everybody present , wit h awe. I f anybody, of what soever degree, said a word t hat he 283
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
didn't approve of, he inst ant ly required t o have it “ t aken down.” I f anybody wouldn't m ake an adm ission, he said, “ I 'll have it out of you! ” and if anybody m ade an adm ission, he said, “ Now I have got you! ” t he m agist rat es shivered under a single bit e of his finger. Thieves and t hieft akers hung in dread rapt ure on his words, and shrank when a hair of his eyebrows t urned in t heir direct ion. Which side he was on, I couldn't m ake out , for he seem ed t o m e t o be grinding t he whole place in a m ill; I only know t hat when I st ole out on t ipt oe, he was not on t he side of t he bench; for, he was m aking t he legs of t he old gent lem an who presided, quit e convulsive under t he t able, by his denunciat ions of his conduct as t he represent at ive of Brit ish law and j ust ice in t hat chair t hat day.
284
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 25 Bent ley Drum m le, who was so sulky a fellow t hat he even t ook up a book as if it s writ er had done him an inj ury, did not t ake up an acquaint ance in a m ore agreeable spirit . Heavy in figure, m ovem ent , and com prehension—in t he sluggish com plexion of his face, and in t he large awkward t ongue t hat seem ed t o loll about in his m out h as he him self lolled about in a room —he was idle, proud, niggardly, reserved, and suspicious. He cam e of rich people down in Som erset shire, who had nursed t his com binat ion of qualit ies unt il t hey m ade t he discovery t hat it was j ust of age and a blockhead. Thus, Bent ley Drum m le had com e t o Mr. Pocket when he was a head t aller t han t hat gent lem an, and half a dozen heads t hicker t han m ost gent lem en. St art op had been spoilt by a weak m ot her and kept at hom e when he ought t o have been at school, but he was devot edly at t ached t o her, and adm ired her beyond m easure. He had a wom an's delicacy of feat ure, and was—" as you m ay see, t hough you never saw her,” said Herbert t o m e—exact ly like his m ot her. I t was but nat ural t hat I should t ake t o him m uch m ore kindly t han t o Drum m le, and t hat , even in t he earliest evenings of our boat ing, he and I should pull hom eward abreast of one anot her, conversing from boat t o boat , while Bent ley Drum m le cam e up in our wake alone, under t he overhanging banks and am ong t he rushes. He would always creep in- shore like som e uncom fort able am phibious creat ure, even when t he t ide would have sent him 285
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
fast upon his way; and I always t hink of him as com ing aft er us in t he dark or by t he back- wat er, when our own t wo boat s were breaking t he sunset or t he m oonlight in m id- st ream . Herbert was m y int im at e com panion and friend. I present ed him wit h a half- share in m y boat , which was t he occasion of his oft en com ing down t o Ham m ersm it h; and m y possession of a halfshare in his cham bers oft en t ook m e up t o London. We used t o walk bet ween t he t wo places at all hours. I have an affect ion for t he road yet ( t hough it is not so pleasant a road as it was t hen) , form ed in t he im pressibilit y of unt ried yout h and hope. When I had been in Mr. Pocket 's fam ily a m ont h or t wo, Mr. and Mrs. Cam illa t urned up. Cam illa was Mr. Pocket 's sist er. Georgiana, whom I had seen at Miss Havisham 's on t he sam e occasion, also t urned up. she was a cousin—an indigest ive single wom an, who called her rigidit y religion, and her liver love. These people hat ed m e wit h t he hat red of cupidit y and disappoint m ent . As a m at t er of course, t hey fawned upon m e in m y prosperit y wit h t he basest m eanness. Towards Mr. Pocket , as a grown- up infant wit h no not ion of his own int erest s, t hey showed t he com placent forbearance I had heard t hem express. Mrs. Pocket t hey held in cont em pt ; but t hey allowed t he poor soul t o have been heavily disappoint ed in life, because t hat shed a feeble reflect ed light upon t hem selves. These were t he surroundings am ong which I set t led down, and applied m yself t o m y educat ion. I soon cont ract ed expensive habit s, and began t o spend an am ount of m oney t hat wit hin a few short m ont hs I should have t hought alm ost 286
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
fabulous; but t hrough good and evil I st uck t o m y books. There was no ot her m erit in t his, t han m y having sense enough t o feel m y deficiencies. Bet ween Mr. Pocket and Herbert I got on fast ; and, wit h one or t he ot her always at m y elbow t o give m e t he st art I want ed, and clear obst ruct ions out of m y road, I m ust have been as great a dolt as Drum m le if I had done less. I had not seen Mr. Wem m ick for som e weeks, when I t hought I would writ e him a not e and propose t o go hom e wit h him on a cert ain evening. He replied t hat it would give him m uch pleasure, and t hat he would expect m e at t he office at six o'clock. Thit her I went , and t here I found him , put t ing t he key of his safe down his back as t he clock st ruck. “ Did you t hink of walking down t o Walwort h?” said he. “ Cert ainly,” said I , “ if you approve.” “ Very m uch,” was Wem m ick's reply, “ for I have had m y legs under t he desk all day, and shall be glad t o st ret ch t hem . Now, I 'll t ell you what I have got for supper, Mr. Pip. I have got a st ewed st eak—which is of hom e preparat ion—and a cold roast fowl—which is from t he cook's- shop. I t hink it 's t ender, because t he m ast er of t he shop was a Jurym an in som e cases of ours t he ot her day, and we let him down easy. I rem inded him of it when I bought t he fowl, and I said, “ Pick us out a good one, old Brit on, because if we had chosen t o keep you in t he box anot her day or t wo, we could easily have done it .” He said t o t hat , “ Let m e m ake you a present of t he best fowl in t he shop.” I let him , of course. As far as it goes, it 's propert y and port able. You don't obj ect t o an aged parent , I hope?” 287
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I really t hought he was st ill speaking of t he fowl, unt il he added, “ Because I have got an aged parent at m y place.” I t hen said what polit eness required. “ So, you haven't dined wit h Mr. Jaggers yet ?” he pursued, as we walked along. “ Not yet .” “ He t old m e so t his aft ernoon when he heard you were com ing. I expect you'll have an invit at ion t o- m orrow. He's going t o ask your pals, t oo. Three of ‘em ; ain't t here?” Alt hough I was not in t he habit of count ing Drum m le as one of m y int im at e associat es, I answered, “ Yes.” “ Well, he's going t o ask t he whole gang; ” I hardly felt com plim ent ed by t he word; “ and what ever he gives you, he'll give you good. Don't look forward t o variet y, but you'll have excellence. And t here'sa not her rum t hing in his house,” proceeded Wem m ick, aft er a m om ent 's pause, as if t he rem ark followed on t he housekeeper underst ood; “ he never let s a door or window be fast ened at night .” “ I s he never robbed?” “ That 's it ! ” ret urned Wem m ick. “ He says, and gives it out publicly, “ I want t o see t he m an who'll rob m e.” Lord bless you, I have heard him , a hundred t im es if I have heard him once, say t o regular cracksm en in our front office, “ You know where I live; now, no bolt is ever drawn t here; why don't you do a st roke of business wit h m e? Com e; can't I t em pt you?” Not a m an of t hem , sir, would be bold enough t o t ry it on, for love or m oney.” “ They dread him so m uch?” said I . 288
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Dread him ,” said Wem m ick. “ I believe you t hey dread him . Not but what he's art ful, even in his defiance of t hem . No silver, sir. Brit annia m et al, every spoon.” “ So t hey wouldn't have m uch,” I observed, “ even if t hey—” “ Ah! But he would have m uch,” said Wem m ick, cut t ing m e short , “ and t hey know it . He'd have t heir lives, and t he lives of scores of ‘em . He'd have all he could get . And it 's im possible t o say what he couldn't get , if he gave his m ind t o it .” I was falling int o m edit at ion on m y guardian's great ness, when Wem m ick rem arked: “ As t o t he absence of plat e, t hat 's only his nat ural dept h, you know. A river's it s nat ural dept h, and he's his nat ural dept h. Look at his wat ch- chain. That 's real enough.” “ I t 's very m assive,” said I . “ Massive?” repeat ed Wem m ick. “ I t hink so. And his wat ch is a gold repeat er, and wort h a hundred pound if it 's wort h a penny. Mr. Pip, t here are about seven hundred t hieves in t his t own who know all about t hat wat ch; t here's not a m an, a wom an, or a child, am ong t hem , who wouldn't ident ify t he sm allest link in t hat chain, and drop it as if it was red- hot , if inveigled int o t ouching it .” At first wit h such discourse, and aft erwards wit h conversat ion of a m ore general nat ure, did Mr. Wem m ick and I beguile t he t im e and t he road, unt il he gave m e t o underst and t hat we had arrived in t he dist rict of Walwort h. I t appeared t o be a collect ion of back lanes, dit ches, and lit t le gardens, and t o present t he aspect of a rat her dull ret irem ent . Wem m ick's house was a lit t le wooden cot t age in 289
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he m idst of plot s of garden, and t he t op of it was cut out and paint ed like a bat t ery m ount ed wit h guns. “ My own doing,” said Wem m ick. “ Looks pret t y; don't it ?” I highly com m ended it , I t hink it was t he sm allest house I ever saw; wit h t he queerest got hic windows ( by far t he great er part of t hem sham ) , and a got hic door, alm ost t oo sm all t o get in at . “ That 's a real flagst aff, you see,” said Wem m ick, “ and on Sundays I run up a real flag. Then look here. Aft er I have crossed t his bridge, I hoist it up—so—and cut off t he com m unicat ion.” The bridge was a plank, and it crossed a chasm about four feet wide and t wo deep. But it was very pleasant t o see t he pride wit h which he hoist ed it up and m ade it fast ; sm iling as he did so, wit h a relish and not m erely m echanically. “ At nine o'clock every night , Greenwich t im e,” said Wem m ick, “ t he gun fires. There he is, you see! And when you hear him go, I t hink you'll say he's a St inger.” The piece of ordnance referred t o, was m ount ed in a separat e fort ress, const ruct ed of lat t ice- work. I t was prot ect ed from t he weat her by an ingenious lit t le t arpaulin cont rivance in t he nat ure of an um brella. “ Then, at t he back,” said Wem m ick, “ out of sight , so as not t o im pede t he idea of fort ificat ions—for it 's a principle wit h m e, if you have an idea, carry it out and keep it up—I don't know whet her t hat 's your opinion—” I said, decidedly. “ —At t he back, t here's a pig, and t here are fowls and rabbit s; t hen, I knock t oget her m y own lit t le fram e, you see, 290
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and grow cucum bers; and you'll j udge at supper what sort of a salad I can raise. So, sir,” said Wem m ick, sm iling again, but seriously t oo, as he shook his head, “ if you can suppose t he lit t le place besieged, it would hold out a devil of a t im e in point of provisions.” Then, he conduct ed m e t o a bower about a dozen yards off, but which was approached by such ingenious t wist s of pat h t hat it t ook quit e a long t im e t o get at ; and in t his ret reat our glasses were already set fort h. Our punch was cooling in an ornam ent al lake, on whose m argin t he bower was raised. This piece of wat er ( wit h an island in t he m iddle which m ight have been t he salad for supper) was of a circular form , and he had const ruct ed a fount ain in it , which, when you set a lit t le m ill going and t ook a cork out of a pipe, played t o t hat powerful ext ent t hat it m ade t he back of your hand quit e wet . “ I am m y own engineer, and m y own carpent er, and m y own plum ber, and m y own gardener, and m y own Jack of all Trades,” said Wem m ick, in acknowledging m y com plim ent s. “ Well; it 's a good t hing, you know. I t brushes t he Newgat e cobwebs away, and pleases t he Aged. You wouldn't m ind being at once int roduced t o t he Aged, would you? I t wouldn't put you out ?” I expressed t he readiness I felt , and we went int o t he cast le. There, we found, sit t ing by a fire, a very old m an in a flannel coat : clean, cheerful, com fort able, and well cared for, but int ensely deaf. “ Well aged parent ,” said Wem m ick, shaking hands wit h him in a cordial and j ocose way, “ how am you?” 291
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ All right , John; all right ! ” replied t he old m an. “ Here's Mr. Pip, aged parent ,” said Wem m ick, “ and I wish you could hear his nam e. Nod away at him , Mr. Pip; t hat 's what he likes. Nod away at him , if you please, like winking! ” “ This is a fine place of m y son's, sir,” cried t he old m an, while I nodded as hard as I possibly could. “ This is a pret t y pleasure- ground, sir. This spot and t hese beaut iful works upon it ought t o be kept t oget her by t he Nat ion, aft er m y son's t im e, for t he people's enj oym ent .” “ You're as proud of it as Punch; ain't you, Aged?” said Wem m ick, cont em plat ing t he old m an, wit h his hard face really soft ened; “ t here's a nod for you; ” giving him a t rem endous one; “ t here's anot her for you; ” giving him a st ill m ore t rem endous one; “ you like t hat , don't you? I f you're not t ired, Mr. Pip—t hough I know it 's t iring t o st rangers—will you t ip him one m ore? You can't t hink how it pleases him .” I t ipped him several m ore, and he was in great spirit s. We left him best irring him self t o feed t he fowls, and we sat down t o our punch in t he arbour; where Wem m ick t old m e as he sm oked a pipe t hat it had t aken him a good m any years t o bring t he propert y up t o it s present pit ch of perfect ion. “ I s it your own, Mr. Wem m ick?” “ O yes,” said Wem m ick, “ I have got hold of it , a bit at a t im e. I t 's a freehold, by George! ” “ I s it , indeed? I hope Mr. Jaggers adm ires it ?” “ Never seen it ,” said Wem m ick. “ Never heard of it . Never seen t he Aged. Never heard of him . No; t he office is one t hing, and privat e life is anot her. When I go int o t he office, I leave t he Cast le behind m e, and when I com e int o t he Cast le, 292
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I leave t he office behind m e. I f it 's not in any way disagreeable t o you, you'll oblige m e by doing t he sam e. I don't wish it professionally spoken about .” Of course I felt m y good fait h involved in t he observance of his request . The punch being very nice, we sat t here drinking it and t alking, unt il it was alm ost nine o'clock. “ Get t ing near gun- fire,” said Wem m ick t hen, as he laid down his pipe; “ it 's t he Aged's t reat .” Proceeding int o t he Cast le again, we found t he Aged heat ing t he poker, wit h expect ant eyes, as a prelim inary t o t he perform ance of t his great night ly cerem ony. Wem m ick st ood wit h his wat ch in his hand, unt il t he m om ent was com e for him t o t ake t he red- hot poker from t he Aged, and repair t o t he bat t ery. He t ook it , and went out , and present ly t he St inger went off wit h a Bang t hat shook t he crazy lit t le box of a cot t age as if it m ust fall t o pieces, and m ade every glass and t eacup in it ring. Upon t his, t he Aged—who I believe would have been blown out of his arm - chair but for holding on by t he elbows—cried out exult ingly, “ He's fired! I heerd him ! ” and I nodded at t he old gent lem an unt il it is no figure of speech t o declare t hat I absolut ely could not see him . The int erval bet ween t hat t im e and supper, Wem m ick devot ed t o showing m e his collect ion of curiosit ies. They were m ost ly of a felonious charact er; com prising t he pen wit h which a celebrat ed forgery had been com m it t ed, a dist inguished razor or t wo, som e locks of hair, and several m anuscript confessions writ t en under condem nat ion—upon which Mr. Wem m ick set part icular value as being, t o use his own words, “ every one of ‘em Lies, sir.” These were 293
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
agreeably dispersed am ong sm all specim ens of china and glass, various neat t rifles m ade by t he propriet or of t he m useum , and som e t obacco- st oppers carved by t he Aged. They were all displayed in t hat cham ber of t he Cast le int o which I had been first induct ed, and which served, not only as t he general sit t ing- room but as t he kit chen t oo, if I m ight j udge from a saucepan on t he hob, and a brazen bij ou over t he fireplace designed for t he suspension of a roast ing- j ack. There was a neat lit t le girl in at t endance, who looked aft er t he Aged in t he day. When she had laid t he supper- clot h, t he bridge was lowered t o give her m eans of egress, and she wit hdrew for t he night . The supper was excellent ; and t hough t he Cast le was rat her subj ect t o dry- rot insom uch t hat it t ast ed like a bad nut , and t hough t he pig m ight have been fart her off, I was heart ily pleased wit h m y whole ent ert ainm ent . Nor was t here any drawback on m y lit t le t urret bedroom , beyond t here being such a very t hin ceiling bet ween m e and t he flagst aff, t hat when I lay down on m y back in bed, it seem ed as if I had t o balance t hat pole on m y forehead all night . Wem m ick was up early in t he m orning, and I am afraid I heard him cleaning m y boot s. Aft er t hat , he fell t o gardening, and I saw him from m y got hic window pret ending t o em ploy t he Aged, and nodding at him in a m ost devot ed m anner. Our breakfast was as good as t he supper, and at half- past eight precisely we st art ed for Lit t le Brit ain. By degrees, Wem m ick got dryer and harder as we went along, and his m out h t ight ened int o a post - office again. At last , when we got t o his place of business and he pulled out his key from his coat 294
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
collar, he looked as unconscious of his Walwort h propert y as if t he Cast le and t he drawbridge and t he arbour and t he lake and t he fount ain and t he Aged, had all been blown int o space t oget her by t he last discharge of t he St inger.
295
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 26 I t fell out as Wem m ick had t old m e it would, t hat I had an early opport unit y of com paring m y guardian's est ablishm ent wit h t hat of his cashier and clerk. My guardian was in his room , washing his hands wit h his scent ed soap, when I went int o t he office from Walwort h; and he called m e t o him , and gave m e t he invit at ion for m yself and friends which Wem m ick had prepared m e t o receive. “ No cerem ony,” he st ipulat ed, “ and no dinner dress, and say t om orrow.” I asked him where we should com e t o ( for I had no idea where he lived) , and I believe it was in his general obj ect ion t o m ake anyt hing like an adm ission, t hat he replied, “ Com e here, and I 'll t ake you hom e wit h m e.” I em brace t his opport unit y of rem arking t hat he washed his client s off, as if he were a surgeon or a dent ist . He had a closet in his room , fit t ed up for t he purpose, which sm elt of t he scent ed soap like a perfum er's shop. I t had an unusually large j ack- t owel on a roller inside t he door, and he would wash his hands, and wipe t hem and dry t hem all over t his t owel, whenever he cam e in from a police- court or dism issed a client from his room . When I and m y friends repaired t o him at six o'clock next day, he seem ed t o have been engaged on a case of a darker com plexion t han usual, for, we found him wit h his head but t ed int o t his closet , not only washing his hands, but laving his face and gargling his t hroat . And even when he had done all t hat , and had gone all round t he j ack- t owel, he t ook out his penknife and scraped t he case out of his nails before he put his coat on. 296
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
There were som e people slinking about as usual when we passed out int o t he st reet , who were evident ly anxious t o speak wit h him ; but t here was som et hing so conclusive in t he halo of scent ed soap which encircled his presence, t hat t hey gave it up for t hat day. As we walked along west ward, he was recognized ever and again by som e face in t he crowd of t he st reet s, and whenever t hat happened he t alked louder t o m e; but he never ot herwise recognized anybody, or t ook not ice t hat anybody recognized him . He conduct ed us t o Gerrard- st reet , Soho, t o a house on t he sout h side of t hat st reet . Rat her a st at ely house of it s kind, but dolefully in want of paint ing, and wit h dirt y windows. He t ook out his key and opened t he door, and we all went int o a st one hall, bare, gloom y, and lit t le used. So, up a dark brown st aircase int o a series of t hree dark brown room s on t he first floor. There were carved garlands on t he panelled walls, and as he st ood am ong t hem giving us welcom e, I know what kind of loops I t hought t hey looked like. Dinner was laid in t he best of t hese room s; t he second was his dressing- room ; t he t hird, his bedroom . He t old us t hat he held t he whole house, but rarely used m ore of it t han we saw. The t able was com fort ably laid—no silver in t he service, of course—and at t he side of his chair was a capacious dum bwait er, wit h a variet y of bot t les and decant ers on it , and four dishes of fruit for dessert . I not iced t hroughout , t hat he kept everyt hing under his own hand, and dist ribut ed everyt hing him self. There was a bookcase in t he room ; I saw, from t he backs of t he books, t hat t hey were about evidence, crim inal law, 297
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
crim inal biography, t rials, act s of parliam ent , and such t hings. The furnit ure was all very solid and good, like his wat chchain. I t had an official look, however, and t here was not hing m erely ornam ent al t o be seen. I n a corner, was a lit t le t able of papers wit h a shaded lam p: so t hat he seem ed t o bring t he office hom e wit h him in t hat respect t oo, and t o wheel it out of an evening and fall t o work. As he had scarcely seen m y t hree com panions unt il now— for, he and I had walked t oget her—he st ood on t he heart hrug, aft er ringing t he bell, and t ook a searching look at t hem . To m y surprise, he seem ed at once t o be principally if not solely int erest ed in Drum m le. “ Pip,” said he, put t ing his large hand on m y shoulder and m oving m e t o t he window, “ I don't know one from t he ot her. Who's t he Spider?” “ The spider?” said I . “ The blot chy, sprawly, sulky fellow.” “ That 's Bent ley Drum m le,” I replied; “ t he one wit h t he delicat e face is St art op.” Not m aking t he least account of “ t he one wit h t he delicat e face,” he ret urned, “ Bent ley Drum m le is his nam e, is it ? I like t he look of t hat fellow.” He im m ediat ely began t o t alk t o Drum m le: not at all det erred by his replying in his heavy ret icent way, but apparent ly led on by it t o screw discourse out of him . I was looking at t he t wo, when t here cam e bet ween m e and t hem , t he housekeeper, wit h t he first dish for t he t able. She was a wom an of about fort y, I supposed—but I m ay have t hought her younger t han she was. Rat her t all, of a lit he 298
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
nim ble figure, ext rem ely pale, wit h large faded eyes, and a quant it y of st ream ing hair. I cannot say whet her any diseased affect ion of t he heart caused her lips t o be part ed as if she were pant ing, and her face t o bear a curious expression of suddenness and flut t er; but I know t hat I had been t o see Macbet h at t he t heat re, a night or t wo before, and t hat her face looked t o m e as if it were all dist urbed by fiery air, like t he faces I had seen rise out of t he Wit ches’ caldron. She set t he dish on, t ouched m y guardian quiet ly on t he arm wit h a finger t o not ify t hat dinner was ready, and vanished. We t ook our seat s at t he round t able, and m y guardian kept Drum m le on one side of him , while St art op sat on t he ot her. I t was a noble dish of fish t hat t he housekeeper had put on t able, and we had a j oint of equally choice m ut t on aft erwards, and t hen an equally choice bird. Sauces, wines, all t he accessories we want ed, and all of t he best , were given out by our host from his dum b- wait er; and when t hey had m ade t he circuit of t he t able, he always put t hem back again. Sim ilarly, he dealt us clean plat es and knives and forks, for each course, and dropped t hose j ust disused int o t wo basket s on t he ground by his chair. No ot her at t endant t han t he housekeeper appeared. She set on every dish; and I always saw in her face, a face rising out of t he caldron. Years aft erwards, I m ade a dreadful likeness of t hat wom an, by causing a face t hat had no ot her nat ural resem blance t o it t han it derived from flowing hair, t o pass behind a bowl of flam ing spirit s in a dark room . I nduced t o t ake part icular not ice of t he housekeeper, bot h by her own st riking appearance and by Wem m ick's 299
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
preparat ion, I observed t hat whenever she was in t he room , she kept her eyes at t ent ively on m y guardian, and t hat she would rem ove her hands from any dish she put before him , hesit at ingly, as if she dreaded his calling her back, and want ed him t o speak when she was nigh, if he had anyt hing t o say. I fancied t hat I could det ect in his m anner a consciousness of t his, and a purpose of always holding her in suspense. Dinner went off gaily, and, alt hough m y guardian seem ed t o follow rat her t han originat e subj ect s, I knew t hat he wrenched t he weakest part of our disposit ions out of us. For m yself, I found t hat I was expressing m y t endency t o lavish expendit ure, and t o pat ronize Herbert , and t o boast of m y great prospect s, before I quit e knew t hat I had opened m y lips. I t was so wit h all of us, but wit h no one m ore t han Drum m le: t he developm ent of whose inclinat ion t o gird in a grudging and suspicious way at t he rest , was screwed out of him before t he fish was t aken off. I t was not t hen, but when we had got t o t he cheese, t hat our conversat ion t urned upon our rowing feat s, and t hat Drum m le was rallied for com ing up behind of a night in t hat slow am phibious way of his. Drum m le upon t his, inform ed our host t hat he m uch preferred our room t o our com pany, and t hat as t o skill he was m ore t han our m ast er, and t hat as t o st rengt h he could scat t er us like chaff. By som e invisible agency, m y guardian wound him up t o a pit ch lit t le short of ferocit y about t his t rifle; and he fell t o baring and spanning his arm t o show how m uscular it was, and we all fell t o baring and spanning our arm s in a ridiculous m anner. 300
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Now, t he housekeeper was at t hat t im e clearing t he t able; m y guardian, t aking no heed of her, but wit h t he side of his face t urned from her, was leaning back in his chair bit ing t he side of his forefinger and showing an int erest in Drum m le, t hat , t o m e, was quit e inexplicable. Suddenly, he clapped his large hand on t he housekeeper's, like a t rap, as she st ret ched it across t he t able. So suddenly and sm art ly did he do t his, t hat we all st opped in our foolish cont ent ion. “ I f you t alk of st rengt h,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ I 'll show you a wrist . Molly, let t hem see your wrist .” Her ent rapped hand was on t he t able, but she had already put her ot her hand behind her waist . “ Mast er,” she said, in a low voice, wit h her eyes at t ent ively and ent reat ingly fixed upon him . “ Don't .” “ I 'll show you a wrist ,” repeat ed Mr. Jaggers, wit h an im m ovable det erm inat ion t o show it . “ Molly, let t hem see your wrist .” “ Mast er,” she again m urm ured. “ Please! ” “ Molly,” said Mr. Jaggers, not looking at her, but obst inat ely looking at t he opposit e side of t he room , “ let t hem see bot h your wrist s. Show t hem . Com e! ” He t ook his hand from hers, and t urned t hat wrist up on t he t able. She brought her ot her hand from behind her, and held t he t wo out side by side. The last wrist was m uch disfigured—deeply scarred and scarred across and across. When she held her hands out , she t ook her eyes from Mr. Jaggers, and t urned t hem wat chfully on every one of t he rest of us in succession. 301
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ There's power here,” said Mr. Jaggers, coolly t racing out t he sinews wit h his forefinger. “ Very few m en have t he power of wrist t hat t his wom an has. I t 's rem arkable what m ere force of grip t here is in t hese hands. I have had occasion t o not ice m any hands; but I never saw st ronger in t hat respect , m an's or wom an's, t han t hese.” While he said t hese words in a leisurely crit ical st yle, she cont inued t o look at every one of us in regular succession as we sat . The m om ent he ceased, she looked at him again. “ That 'll do, Molly,” said Mr. Jaggers, giving her a slight nod; “ you have been adm ired, and can go.” She wit hdrew her hands and went out of t he room , and Mr. Jaggers, put t ing t he decant ers on from his dum bwait er, filled his glass and passed round t he wine. “ At half- past nine, gent lem en,” said he, “ we m ust break up. Pray m ake t he best use of your t im e. I am glad t o see you all. Mr. Drum m le, I drink t o you.” I f his obj ect in singling out Drum m le were t o bring him out st ill m ore, it perfect ly succeeded. I n a sulky t rium ph, Drum m le showed his m orose depreciat ion of t he rest of us, in a m ore and m ore offensive degree unt il he becam e downright int olerable. Through all his st ages, Mr. Jaggers followed him wit h t he sam e st range int erest . He act ually seem ed t o serve as a zest t o Mr. Jaggers's wine. I n our boyish want of discret ion I dare say we t ook t oo m uch t o drink, and I know we t alked t oo m uch. We becam e part icularly hot upon som e boorish sneer of Drum m le's, t o t he effect t hat we were t oo free wit h our m oney. I t led t o m y rem arking, wit h m ore zeal t han discret ion, t hat it cam e wit h a 302
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
bad grace from him , t o whom St art op had lent m oney in m y presence but a week or so before. “ Well,” ret ort ed Drum m le; “ he'll be paid.” “ I don't m ean t o im ply t hat he won't ,” said I , “ but it m ight m ake you hold your t ongue about us and our m oney, I should t hink.” “ You should t hink! ” ret ort ed Drum m le. “ Oh Lord! ” “ I dare say,” I went on, m eaning t o be very severe, “ t hat you wouldn't lend m oney t o any of us, if we want ed it .” “ You are right ,” said Drum m le. “ I wouldn't lend one of you a sixpence. I wouldn't lend anybody a sixpence.” “ Rat her m ean t o borrow under t hose circum st ances, I should say.” “ You should say,” repeat ed Drum m le. “ Oh Lord! ” This was so very aggravat ing—t he m ore especially as I found m yself m aking no way against his surly obt useness— t hat I said, disregarding Herbert 's effort s t o check m e: “ Com e, Mr. Drum m le, since we are on t he subj ect , I 'll t ell you what passed bet ween Herbert here and m e, when you borrowed t hat m oney.” “ I don't want t o know what passed bet ween Herbert t here and you,” growled Drum m le. And I t hink he added in a lower growl, t hat we m ight bot h go t o t he devil and shake ourselves. “ I 'll t ell you, however,” said I , “ whet her you want t o know or not . We said t hat as you put it in your pocket very glad t o get it , you seem ed t o be im m ensely am used at his being so weak as t o lend it .” 303
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Drum m le laughed out right , and sat laughing in our faces, wit h his hands in his pocket s and his round shoulders raised: plainly signifying t hat it was quit e t rue, and t hat he despised us, as asses all. Hereupon St art op t ook him in hand, t hough wit h a m uch bet t er grace t han I had shown, and exhort ed him t o be a lit t le m ore agreeable. St art op, being a lively bright young fellow, and Drum m le being t he exact opposit e, t he lat t er was always disposed t o resent him as a direct personal affront . He now ret ort ed in a coarse lum pish way, and St art op t ried t o t urn t he discussion aside wit h som e sm all pleasant ry t hat m ade us all laugh. Resent ing t his lit t le success m ore t han anyt hing, Drum m le, wit hout any t hreat or warning, pulled his hands out of his pocket s, dropped his round shoulders, swore, t ook up a large glass, and would have flung it at his adversary's head, but for our ent ert ainer's dext erously seizing it at t he inst ant when it was raised for t hat purpose. “ Gent lem en,” said Mr. Jaggers, deliberat ely put t ing down t he glass, and hauling out his gold repeat er by it s m assive chain, “ I am exceedingly sorry t o announce t hat it 's half- past nine.” On t his hint we all rose t o depart . Before we got t o t he st reet door, St art op was cheerily calling Drum m le “ old boy,” as if not hing had happened. But t he old boy was so far from responding, t hat he would not even walk t o Ham m ersm it h on t he sam e side of t he way; so, Herbert and I , who rem ained in t own, saw t hem going down t he st reet on opposit e sides; St art op leading, and Drum m le lagging behind in t he shadow of t he houses, m uch as he was wont t o follow in his boat . 304
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
As t he door was not yet shut , I t hought I would leave Herbert t here for a m om ent , and run up- st airs again t o say a word t o m y guardian. I found him in his dressing- room surrounded by his st ock of boot s, already hard at it , washing his hands of us. I t old him I had com e up again t o say how sorry I was t hat anyt hing disagreeable should have occurred, and t hat I hoped he would not blam e m e m uch. “ Pooh! ” said he, sluicing his face, and speaking t hrough t he wat er- drops; “ it 's not hing, Pip. I like t hat Spider t hough.” He had t urned t owards m e now, and was shaking his head, and blowing, and t owelling him self. “ I am glad you like him , sir,” said I —" but I don't .” “ No, no,” m y guardian assent ed; “ don't have t oo m uch t o do wit h him . Keep as clear of him as you can. But I like t he fellow, Pip; he is one of t he t rue sort . Why, if I was a fort unet eller—” Looking out of t he t owel, he caught m y eye. “ But I am not a fort une- t eller,” he said, let t ing his head drop int o a fest oon of t owel, and t owelling away at his t wo ears. “ You know what I am , don't you? Good- night , Pip.” “ Good- night , sir.” I n about a m ont h aft er t hat , t he Spider's t im e wit h Mr. Pocket was up for good, and, t o t he great relief of all t he house but Mrs. Pocket , he went hom e t o t he fam ily hole.
305
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 27 “ MY DEAR MR PI P, “ I writ e t his by request of Mr. Gargery, for t o let you know t hat he is going t o London in com pany wit h Mr. Wopsle and would be glad if agreeable t o be allowed t o see you. He would call at Barnard's Hot el Tuesday m orning 9 o'clock, when if not agreeable please leave word. Your poor sist er is m uch t he sam e as when you left . We t alk of you in t he kit chen every night , and wonder what you are saying and doing. I f now considered in t he light of a libert y, excuse it for t he love of poor old days. No m ore, dear Mr. Pip, from “ Your ever obliged, and affect ionat e servant , “ BI DDY.” “ P.S. He wishes m e m ost part icular t o writ e what larks. He says you will underst and. I hope and do not doubt it will be agreeable t o see him even t hough a gent lem an, for you had ever a good heart , and he is a wort hy wort hy m an. I have read him all except ing only t he last lit t le sent ence, and he wishes m e m ost part icular t o writ e again what larks.” I received t his let t er by t he post on Monday m orning, and t herefore it s appoint m ent was for next day. Let m e confess exact ly, wit h what feelings I looked forward t o Joe's com ing. Not wit h pleasure, t hough I was bound t o him by so m any t ies; no; wit h considerable dist urbance, som e m ort ificat ion, and a keen sense of incongruit y. I f I could have kept him away by paying m oney, I cert ainly would have paid m oney. My great est reassurance was, t hat he was com ing t o 306
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Barnard's I nn, not t o Ham m ersm it h, and consequent ly would not fall in Bent ley Drum m le's way. I had lit t le obj ect ion t o his being seen by Herbert or his fat her, for bot h of whom I had a respect ; but I had t he sharpest sensit iveness as t o his being seen by Drum m le, whom I held in cont em pt . So, t hroughout life, our worst weaknesses and m eannesses are usually com m it t ed for t he sake of t he people whom we m ost despise. I had begun t o be always decorat ing t he cham bers in som e quit e unnecessary and inappropriat e way or ot her, and very expensive t hose wrest les wit h Barnard proved t o be. By t his t im e, t he room s were vast ly different from what I had found t hem , and I enj oyed t he honour of occupying a few prom inent pages in t he books of a neighbouring upholst erer. I had got on so fast of lat e, t hat I had even st art ed a boy in boot s—t op boot s—in bondage and slavery t o whom I m ight have been said t o pass m y days. For, aft er I had m ade t he m onst er ( out of t he refuse of m y washerwom an's fam ily) and had clot hed him wit h a blue coat , canary waist coat , whit e cravat , cream y breeches, and t he boot s already m ent ioned, I had t o find him a lit t le t o do and a great deal t o eat ; and wit h bot h of t hose horrible requirem ent s he haunt ed m y exist ence. This avenging phant om was ordered t o be on dut y at eight on Tuesday m orning in t he hall ( it was t wo feet square, as charged for floorclot h) , and Herbert suggest ed cert ain t hings for breakfast t hat he t hought Joe would like. While I felt sincerely obliged t o him for being so int erest ed and considerat e, I had an odd half- provoked sense of suspicion upon m e, t hat if Joe had been com ing t o see him , he wouldn't have been quit e so brisk about it . 307
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
However, I cam e int o t own on t he Monday night t o be ready for Joe, and I got up early in t he m orning, and caused t he sit t ingroom and breakfast - t able t o assum e t heir m ost splendid appearance. Unfort unat ely t he m orning was drizzly, and an angel could not have concealed t he fact t hat Barnard was shedding soot y t ears out side t he window, like som e weak giant of a Sweep. As t he t im e approached I should have liked t o run away, but t he Avenger pursuant t o orders was in t he hall, and present ly I heard Joe on t he st aircase. I knew it was Joe, by his clum sy m anner of com ing up- st airs—his st at e boot s being always t oo big for him —and by t he t im e it t ook him t o read t he nam es on t he ot her floors in t he course of his ascent . When at last he st opped out side our door, I could hear his finger t racing over t he paint ed let t ers of m y nam e, and I aft erwards dist inct ly heard him breat hing in at t he keyhole. Finally he gave a faint single rap, and Pepper—such was t he com prom ising nam e of t he avenging boy—announced “ Mr. Gargery! ” I t hought he never would have done wiping his feet , and t hat I m ust have gone out t o lift him off t he m at , but at last he cam e in. “ Joe, how are you, Joe?” “ Pip, how AI R you, Pip?” Wit h his good honest face all glowing and shining, and his hat put down on t he floor bet ween us, he caught bot h m y hands and worked t hem st raight up and down, as if I had been t he last pat ent ed Pum p. “ I am glad t o see you, Joe. Give m e your hat .” 308
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
But Joe, t aking it up carefully wit h bot h hands, like a bird's- nest wit h eggs in it , wouldn't hear of part ing wit h t hat piece of propert y, and persist ed in st anding t alking over it in a m ost uncom fort able way. “ Which you have t hat growed,” said Joe, “ and t hat swelled, and t hat gent le- folked; ” Joe considered a lit t le before he discovered t his word; “ as t o be sure you are a honour t o your king and count ry.” “ And you, Joe, look wonderfully well.” “ Thank God,” said Joe, “ I 'm ekerval t o m ost . And your sist er, she's no worse t han she were. And Biddy, she's ever right and ready. And all friends is no backerder, if not no forarder. ‘Cept in Wopsle; he's had a drop.” All t his t im e ( st ill wit h bot h hands t aking great care of t he bird's- nest ) , Joe was rolling his eyes round and round t he room , and round and round t he flowered pat t ern of m y dressing- gown. “ Had a drop, Joe?” “ Why yes,” said Joe, lowering his voice, “ he's left t he Church, and went int o t he playact ing. Which t he playact ing have likeways brought him t o London along wit h m e. And his wish were,” said Joe, get t ing t he bird's- nest under his left arm for t he m om ent and groping in it for an egg wit h his right ; “ if no offence, as I would ‘and you t hat .” I t ook what Joe gave m e, and found it t o be t he crum pled playbill of a sm all m et ropolit an t heat re, announcing t he first appearance, in t hat very week, of “ t he celebrat ed Provincial Am at eur of Roscian renown, whose unique perform ance in t he 309
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
highest t ragic walk of our Nat ional Bard has lat ely occasioned so great a sensat ion in local dram at ic circles.” “ Were you at his perform ance, Joe?” I inquired. “ I were,” said Joe, wit h em phasis and solem nit y. “ Was t here a great sensat ion?” “ Why,” said Joe, “ yes, t here cert ainly were a peck of orange- peel. Part ickler, when he see t he ghost . Though I put it t o yourself, sir, whet her it were calc'lat ed t o keep a m an up t o his work wit h a good hart , t o be cont iniwally cut t ing in bet wixt him and t he Ghost wit h “ Am en! ” A m an m ay have had a m isfort un’ and been in t he Church,” said Joe, lowering his voice t o an argum ent at ive and feeling t one, “ but t hat is no reason why you should put him out at such a t im e. Which I m eant ersay, if t he ghost of a m an's own fat her cannot be allowed t o claim his at t ent ion, what can, Sir? St ill m ore, when his m ourning “ at is unfort unat ely m ade so sm all as t hat t he weight of t he black feat hers brings it off, t ry t o keep it on how you m ay.” A ghost - seeing effect in Joe's own count enance inform ed m e t hat Herbert had ent ered t he room . So, I present ed Joe t o Herbert , who held out his hand; but Joe backed from it , and held on by t he bird's- nest . “ Your servant , Sir,” said Joe, “ which I hope as you and Pip" —here his eye fell on t he Avenger, who was put t ing som e t oast on t able, and so plainly denot ed an int ent ion t o m ake t hat young gent lem an one of t he fam ily, t hat I frowned it down and confused him m ore—" I m eant ersay, you t wo gent lem en—which I hope as you get your elt hs in t his close spot ? For t he present m ay be a werry good inn, according t o 310
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
London opinions,” said Joe, confident ially, “ and I believe it s charact er do st and i; but I wouldn't keep a pig in it m yself— not in t he case t hat I wished him t o fat t en wholesom e and t o eat wit h a m eller flavour on him .” Having borne t his flat t ering t est im ony t o t he m erit s of our dwelling- place, and having incident ally shown t his t endency t o call m e “ sir,” Joe, being invit ed t o sit down t o t able, looked all round t he room for a suit able spot on which t o deposit his hat —as if it were only on som e very few rare subst ances in nat ure t hat it could find a rest ing place—and ult im at ely st ood it on an ext rem e corner of t he chim ney- piece, from which it ever aft erwards fell off at int ervals. “ Do you t ake t ea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?” asked Herbert , who always presided of a m orning. “ Thankee, Sir,” said Joe, st iff from head t o foot , “ I 'll t ake whichever is m ost agreeable t o yourself.” “ What do you say t o coffee?” “ Thankee, Sir,” ret urned Joe, evident ly dispirit ed by t he proposal, “ since you are so kind as m ake chice of coffee, I will not run cont rairy t o your own opinions. But don't you never find it a lit t le ‘eat ing?” “ Say t ea t hen,” said Herbert , pouring it out . Here Joe's hat t um bled off t he m ant el- piece, and he st art ed out of his chair and picked it up, and fit t ed it t o t he sam e exact spot . As if it were an absolut e point of good breeding t hat it should t um ble off again soon. “ When did you com e t o t own, Mr. Gargery?” “ Were it yest erday aft ernoon?” said Joe, aft er coughing behind his hand, as if he had had t im e t o cat ch t he whooping311
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
cough since he cam e. “ No it were not . Yes it were. Yes. I t were yest erday aft ernoon” ( wit h an appearance of m ingled wisdom , relief, and st rict im part ialit y) . “ Have you seen anyt hing of London, yet ?” “ Why, yes, Sir,” said Joe, “ m e and Wopsle went off st raight t o look at t he Blacking Ware'us. But we didn't find t hat it com e up t o it s likeness in t he red bills at t he shop doors; which I m eant ersay,” added Joe, in an explanat ory m anner, “ as it is t here drawd t oo archit ect ooralooral.” I really believe Joe would have prolonged t his word ( m ight ily expressive t o m y m ind of som e archit ect ure t hat I know) int o a perfect Chorus, but for his at t ent ion being provident ially at t ract ed by his hat , which was t oppling. I ndeed, it dem anded from him a const ant at t ent ion, and a quickness of eye and hand, very like t hat exact ed by wicket keeping. He m ade ext raordinary play wit h it , and showed t he great est skill; now, rushing at it and cat ching it neat ly as it dropped; now, m erely st opping it m idway, beat ing it up, and hum ouring it in various part s of t he room and against a good deal of t he pat t ern of t he paper on t he wall, before he felt it safe t o close wit h it ; finally, splashing it int o t he slop- basin, where I t ook t he libert y of laying hands upon it . As t o his shirt - collar, and his coat - collar, t hey were perplexing t o reflect upon—insoluble m yst eries bot h. Why should a m an scrape him self t o t hat ext ent , before he could consider him self full dressed? Why should he suppose it necessary t o be purified by suffering for his holiday clot hes? Then he fell int o such unaccount able fit s of m edit at ion, wit h his fork m idway bet ween his plat e and his m out h; had his 312
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
eyes at t ract ed in such st range direct ions; was afflict ed wit h such rem arkable coughs; sat so far from t he t able, and dropped so m uch m ore t han he at e, and pret ended t hat he hadn't dropped it ; t hat I was heart ily glad when Herbert left us for t he cit y. I had neit her t he good sense nor t he good feeling t o know t hat t his was all m y fault , and t hat if I had been easier wit h Joe, Joe would have been easier wit h m e. I felt im pat ient of him and out of t em per wit h him ; in which condit ion he heaped coals of fire on m y head. “ Us t wo being now alone, Sir," —began Joe. “ Joe,” I int errupt ed, pet t ishly, “ how can you call m e, Sir?” Joe looked at m e for a single inst ant wit h som et hing faint ly like reproach. Ut t erly prepost erous as his cravat was, and as his collars were, I was conscious of a sort of dignit y in t he look. “ Us t wo being now alone,” resum ed Joe, “ and m e having t he int ent ions and abilit ies t o st ay not m any m inut es m ore, I will now conclude—least ways begin—t o m ent ion what have led t o m y having had t he present honour. For was it not ,” said Joe, wit h his old air of lucid exposit ion, “ t hat m y only wish were t o be useful t o you, I should not have had t he honour of breaking wit t les in t he com pany and abode of gent lem en.” I was so unwilling t o see t he look again, t hat I m ade no rem onst rance against t his t one. “ Well, Sir,” pursued Joe, “ t his is how it were. I were at t he Bargem en t 'ot her night , Pip; ” whenever he subsided int o affect ion, he called m e Pip, and whenever he relapsed int o polit eness he called m e Sir; “ when t here com e up in his shay313
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
cart , Pum blechook. Which t hat sam e ident ical,” said Joe, going down a new t rack, “ do com b m y ‘air t he wrong way som et im es, awful, by giving out up and down t own as it were him which ever had your infant com panionat ion and were looked upon as a playfellow by yourself.” “ Nonsense. I t was you, Joe.” “ Which I fully believed it were, Pip,” said Joe, slight ly t ossing his head, “ t hough it signify lit t le now, Sir. Well, Pip; t his sam e ident ical, which his m anners is given t o blust erous, com e t o m e at t he Bargem en ( wot a pipe and a pint of beer do give refreshm ent t o t he working- m an, Sir, and do not over st im ilat e) , and his word were, ‘Joseph, Miss Havisham she wish t o speak t o you.'” “ Miss Havisham , Joe?” “ ‘She wish,’ were Pum blechook's word, ‘t o speak t o you.'” Joe sat and rolled his eyes at t he ceiling. “ Yes, Joe? Go on, please.” “ Next day, Sir,” said Joe, looking at m e as if I were a long way off, “ having cleaned m yself, I go and I see Miss A.” “ Miss A., Joe? Miss Havisham ?” “ Which I say, Sir,” replied Joe, wit h an air of legal form alit y, as if he were m aking his will, “ Miss A., or ot herways Havisham . Her expression air t hen as follering: ‘Mr. Gargery. You air in correspondence wit h Mr. Pip?’ Having had a let t er from you, I were able t o say ‘I am .’ ( When I m arried your sist er, Sir, I said ‘I will; ’ and when I answered your friend, Pip, I said ‘I am .') ‘Would you t ell him , t hen,’ said she, ‘t hat which Est ella has com e hom e and would be glad t o see him .'” 314
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I felt m y face fire up as I looked at Joe. I hope one rem ot e cause of it s firing, m ay have been m y consciousness t hat if I had known his errand, I should have given him m ore encouragem ent . “ Biddy,” pursued Joe, “ when I got hom e and asked her fur t o writ e t he m essage t o you, a lit t le hung back. Biddy says, “ I know he will be very glad t o have it by word of m out h, it is holidayt im e, you want t o see him , go! ” I have now concluded, Sir,” said Joe, rising from his chair, “ and, Pip, I wish you ever well and ever prospering t o a great er and a great er height h.” “ But you are not going now, Joe?” “ Yes I am ,” said Joe. “ But you are com ing back t o dinner, Joe?” “ No I am not ,” said Joe. Our eyes m et , and all t he “ Sir” m elt ed out of t hat m anly heart as he gave m e his hand. “ Pip, dear old chap, life is m ade of ever so m any part ings welded t oget her, as I m ay say, and one m an's a blacksm it h, and one's a whit esm it h, and one's a goldsm it h, and one's a coppersm it h. Diwisions am ong such m ust com e, and m ust be m et as t hey com e. I f t here's been any fault at all t o- day, it 's m ine. You and m e is not t wo figures t o be t oget her in London; nor yet anywheres else but what is privat e, and beknown, and underst ood am ong friends. I t ain't t hat I am proud, but t hat I want t o be right , as you shall never see m e no m ore in t hese clot hes. I 'm wrong in t hese clot hes. I 'm wrong out of t he forge, t he kit chen, or off t h’ m eshes. You won't find half so m uch fault in m e if you t hink of m e in m y forge dress, wit h m y ham m er in m y hand, or even m y pipe. 315
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
You won't find half so m uch fault in m e if, supposing as you should ever wish t o see m e, you com e and put your head in at t he forge window and see Joe t he blacksm it h, t here, at t he old anvil, in t he old burnt apron, st icking t o t he old work. I 'm awful dull, but I hope I 've beat out som et hing nigh t he right s of t his at last . And so GOD bless you, dear old Pip, old chap, GOD bless you! ” I had not been m ist aken in m y fancy t hat t here was a sim ple dignit y in him . The fashion of his dress could no m ore com e in it s way when he spoke t hese words, t han it could com e in it s way in Heaven. He t ouched m e gent ly on t he forehead, and went out . As soon as I could recover m yself sufficient ly, I hurried out aft er him and looked for him in t he neighbouring st reet s; but he was gone.
316
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 28 I t was clear t hat I m ust repair t o our t own next day, and in t he first flow of m y repent ance it was equally clear t hat I m ust st ay at Joe's. But , when I had secured m y box- place by t o- m orrow's coach and had been down t o Mr. Pocket 's and back, I was not by any m eans convinced on t he last point , and began t o invent reasons and m ake excuses for put t ing up at t he Blue Boar. I should be an inconvenience at Joe's; I was not expect ed, and m y bed would not be ready; I should be t oo far from Miss Havisham 's, and she was exact ing and m ight n't like it . All ot her swindlers upon eart h are not hing t o t he self- swindlers, and wit h such pret ences did I cheat m yself. Surely a curious t hing. That I should innocent ly t ake a bad half- crown of som ebody else's m anufact ure, is reasonable enough; but t hat I should knowingly reckon t he spurious coin of m y own m ake, as good m oney! An obliging st ranger, under pret ence of com pact ly folding up m y banknot es for securit y's sake, abst ract s t he not es and gives m e nut shells; but what is his sleight of hand t o m ine, when I fold up m y own nut shells and pass t hem on m yself as not es! Having set t led t hat I m ust go t o t he Blue Boar, m y m ind was m uch dist urbed by indecision whet her or not t o t ake t he Avenger. I t was t em pt ing t o t hink of t hat expensive Mercenary publicly airing his boot s in t he archway of t he Blue Boar's post ing- yard; it was alm ost solem n t o im agine him casually produced in t he t ailor's shop and confounding t he disrespect ful senses of Trabb's boy. On t he ot her hand, 317
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Trabb's boy m ight worm him self int o his int im acy and t ell him t hings; or, reckless and desperat e wret ch as I knew he could be, m ight hoot him in t he High- st reet , My pat roness, t oo, m ight hear of him , and not approve. On t he whole, I resolved t o leave t he Avenger behind. I t was t he aft ernoon coach by which I had t aken m y place, and, as wint er had now com e round, I should not arrive at m y dest inat ion unt il t wo or t hree hours aft er dark. Our t im e of st art ing from t he Cross Keys was t wo o'clock. I arrived on t he ground wit h a quart er of an hour t o spare, at t ended by t he Avenger—if I m ay connect t hat expression wit h one who never at t ended on m e if he could possibly help it . At t hat t im e it was cust om ary t o carry Convict s down t o t he dockyards by st age- coach. As I had oft en heard of t hem in t he capacit y of out side passengers, and had m ore t han once seen t hem on t he high road dangling t heir ironed legs over t he coach roof, I had no cause t o be surprised when Herbert , m eet ing m e in t he yard, cam e up and t old m e t here were t wo convict s going down wit h m e. But I had a reason t hat was an old reason now, for const it ut ionally falt ering whenever I heard t he word convict . “ You don't m ind t hem , Handel?” said Herbert . “ Oh no! ” “ I t hought you seem ed as if you didn't like t hem ?” “ I can't pret end t hat I do like t hem , and I suppose you don't part icularly. But I don't m ind t hem .” “ See! There t hey are,” said Herbert , “ com ing out of t he Tap. What a degraded and vile sight it is! ” 318
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
They had been t reat ing t heir guard, I suppose, for t hey had a gaoler wit h t hem , and all t hree cam e out wiping t heir m out hs on t heir hands. The t wo convict s were handcuffed t oget her, and had irons on t heir legs—irons of a pat t ern t hat I knew well. They wore t he dress t hat I likewise knew well. Their keeper had a brace of pist ols, and carried a t hickknobbed bludgeon under his arm ; but he was on t erm s of good underst anding wit h t hem , and st ood, wit h t hem beside him , looking on at t he put t ing- t o of t he horses, rat her wit h an air as if t he convict s were an int erest ing Exhibit ion not form ally open at t he m om ent , and he t he Curat or. One was a t aller and st out er m an t han t he ot her, and appeared as a m at t er of course, according t o t he m yst erious ways of t he world bot h convict and free, t o have had allot t ed t o him t he sm aller suit of clot hes. His arm s and legs were like great pincushions of t hose shapes, and his at t ire disguised him absurdly; but I knew his half- closed eye at one glance. There st ood t he m an whom I had seen on t he set t le at t he Three Jolly Bargem en on a Sat urday night , and who had brought m e down wit h his invisible gun! I t was easy t o m ake sure t hat as yet he knew m e no m ore t han if he had never seen m e in his life. He looked across at m e, and his eye appraised m y wat ch- chain, and t hen he incident ally spat and said som et hing t o t he ot her convict , and t hey laughed and slued t hem selves round wit h a clink of t heir coupling m anacle, and looked at som et hing else. The great num bers on t heir backs, as if t hey were st reet doors; t heir coarse m angy ungainly out er surface, as if t hey were lower anim als; t heir ironed legs, apologet ically garlanded wit h 319
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
pocket - handkerchiefs; and t he way in which all present looked at t hem and kept from t hem ; m ade t hem ( as Herbert had said) a m ost disagreeable and degraded spect acle. But t his was not t he worst of it . I t cam e out t hat t he whole of t he back of t he coach had been t aken by a fam ily rem oving from London, and t hat t here were no places for t he t wo prisoners but on t he seat in front , behind t he coachm an. Hereupon, a choleric gent lem an, who had t aken t he fourt h place on t hat seat , flew int o a m ost violent passion, and said t hat it was a breach of cont ract t o m ix him up wit h such villainous com pany, and t hat it was poisonous and pernicious and infam ous and sham eful, and I don't know what else. At t his t im e t he coach was ready and t he coachm an im pat ient , and we were all preparing t o get up, and t he prisoners had com e over wit h t heir keeper—bringing wit h t hem t hat curious flavour of bread- poult ice, baize, rope- yarn, and heart hst one, which at t ends t he convict presence. “ Don't t ake it so m uch am iss. sir,” pleaded t he keeper t o t he angry passenger; “ I 'll sit next you m yself. I 'll put ‘em on t he out side of t he row. They won't int erfere wit h you, sir. You needn't know t hey're t here.” “ And don't blam e m e,” growled t he convict I had recognized. “ I don't want t o go. I am quit e ready t o st ay behind. As fur as I am concerned any one's welcom e t o m y place.” “ Or m ine,” said t he ot her, gruffly. “ I wouldn't have incom m oded none of you, if I 'd had m y way.” Then, t hey bot h laughed, and began cracking nut s, and spit t ing t he shells 320
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
about .—As I really t hink I should have liked t o do m yself, if I had been in t heir place and so despised. At lengt h, it was vot ed t hat t here was no help for t he angry gent lem an, and t hat he m ust eit her go in his chance com pany or rem ain behind. So, he got int o his place, st ill m aking com plaint s, and t he keeper got int o t he place next him , and t he convict s hauled t hem selves up as well as t hey could, and t he convict I had recognized sat behind m e wit h his breat h on t he hair of m y head. “ Good- bye, Handel! ” Herbert called out as we st art ed. I t hought what a blessed fort une it was, t hat he had found anot her nam e for m e t han Pip. I t is im possible t o express wit h what acut eness I felt t he convict 's breat hing, not only on t he back of m y head, but all along m y spine. The sensat ion was like being t ouched in t he m arrow wit h som e pungent and searching acid, it set m y very t eet h on edge. He seem ed t o have m ore breat hing business t o do t han anot her m an, and t o m ake m ore noise in doing it ; and I was conscious of growing high- shoulderd on one side, in m y shrinking endeavours t o fend him off. The weat her was m iserably raw, and t he t wo cursed t he cold. I t m ade us all let hargic before we had gone far, and when we had left t he Half- way House behind, we habit ually dozed and shivered and were silent . I dozed off, m yself, in considering t he quest ion whet her I ought t o rest ore a couple of pounds st erling t o t his creat ure before losing sight of him , and how it could best be done. I n t he act of dipping forward as if I were going t o bat he am ong t he horses, I woke in a fright and t ook t he quest ion up again. 321
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
But I m ust have lost it longer t han I had t hought , since, alt hough I could recognize not hing in t he darkness and t he fit ful light s and shadows of our lam ps, I t raced m arsh count ry in t he cold dam p wind t hat blew at us. Cowering forward for warm t h and t o m ake m e a screen against t he wind, t he convict s were closer t o m e t han before. They very first words I heard t hem int erchange as I becam e conscious were t he words of m y own t hought , “ Two One Pound not es.” “ How did he get ‘em ?” said t he convict I had never seen. “ How should I know?” ret urned t he ot her. “ He had ‘em st owed away som ehows. Giv him by friends, I expect .” “ I wish,” said t he ot her, wit h a bit t er curse upon t he cold, “ t hat I had ‘em here.” “ Two one pound not es, or friends?” “ Two one pound not es. I 'd sell all t he friends I ever had, for one, and t hink it a blessed good bargain. Well? So he says—?” “ So he says,” resum ed t he convict I had recognized—" it was all said and done in half a m inut e, behind a pile of t im ber in t he Dockyard—'You're a- going t o be discharged?’ Yes, I was. Would I find out t hat boy t hat had fed him and kep his secret , and give him t hem t wo one pound not es? Yes, I would. And I did.” “ More fool you,” growled t he ot her. “ I 'd have spent ‘em on a Man, in wit t les and drink. He m ust have been a green one. Mean t o say he knowed not hing of you?” “ Not a ha'port h. Different gangs and different ships. He was t ried again for prison breaking, and got m ade a Lifer.” 322
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ And was t hat —Honour! —t he only t im e you worked out , in t his part of t he count ry?” “ The only t im e.” “ What m ight have been your opinion of t he place?” “ A m ost beast ly place. Mudbank, m ist , swam p, and work; work, swam p, m ist , and m udbank.” They bot h execrat ed t he place in very st rong language, and gradually growled t hem selves out , and had not hing left t o say. Aft er overhearing t his dialogue, I should assuredly have got down and been left in t he solit ude and darkness of t he highway, but for feeling cert ain t hat t he m an had no suspicion of m y ident it y. I ndeed, I was not only so changed in t he course of nat ure, but so different ly dressed and so different ly circum st anced, t hat it was not at all likely he could have known m e wit hout accident al help. St ill, t he coincidence of our being t oget her on t he coach, was sufficient ly st range t o fill m e wit h a dread t hat som e ot her coincidence m ight at any m om ent connect m e, in his hearing, wit h m y nam e. For t his reason, I resolved t o alight as soon as we t ouched t he t own, and put m yself out of his hearing. This device I execut ed successfully. My lit t le port m ant eau was in t he boot under m y feet ; I had but t o t urn a hinge t o get it out : I t hrew it down before m e, got down aft er it , and was left at t he first lam p on t he first st ones of t he t own pavem ent . As t o t he convict s, t hey went t heir way wit h t he coach, and I knew at what point t hey would be spirit ed off t o t he river. I n m y fancy, I saw t he boat wit h it s convict crew wait ing for t hem at t he slim ewashed st airs,—again heard t he gruff “ Give way, you! ” like 323
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and order t o dogs—again saw t he wicked Noah's Ark lying out on t he black wat er. I could not have said what I was afraid of, for m y fear was alt oget her undefined and vague, but t here was great fear upon m e. As I walked on t o t he hot el, I felt t hat a dread, m uch exceeding t he m ere apprehension of a painful or disagreeable recognit ion, m ade m e t rem ble. I am confident t hat it t ook no dist inct ness of shape, and t hat it was t he revival for a few m inut es of t he t error of childhood. The coffee- room at t he Blue Boar was em pt y, and I had not only ordered m y dinner t here, but had sat down t o it , before t he wait er knew m e. As soon as he had apologized for t he rem issness of his m em ory, he asked m e if he should send Boot s for Mr. Pum blechook? “ No,” said I , “ cert ainly not .” The wait er ( it was he who had brought up t he Great Rem onst rance from t he Com m ercials, on t he day when I was bound) appeared surprised, and t ook t he earliest opport unit y of put t ing a dirt y old copy of a local newspaper so direct ly in m y way, t hat I t ook it up and read t his paragraph: Our readers will learn, not alt oget her wit hout int erest , in reference t o t he recent rom ant ic rise in fort une of a young art ificer in iron of t his neighbourhood ( what a t hem e, by t he way, for t he m agic pen of our as yet not universally acknowledged t ownsm an TOOBY, t he poet of our colum ns! ) t hat t he yout h's earliest pat ron, com panion, and friend, was a highly- respect ed individual not ent irely unconnect ed wit h t he corn and seed t rade, and whose em inent ly convenient and com m odious business prem ises are sit uat e wit hin a hundred 324
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m iles of t he High- st reet . I t is not wholly irrespect ive of our personal feelings t hat we record HI M as t he Ment or of our young Telem achus, for it is good t o know t hat our t own produced t he founder of t he lat t er's fort unes. Does t he t hought cont ract ed brow of t he local Sage or t he lust rous eye of local Beaut y inquire whose fort unes? We believe t hat Quint in Mat sys was t he BLACKSMI TH of Ant werp. VERB. SAP. I ent ert ain a convict ion, based upon large experience, t hat if in t he days of m y prosperit y I had gone t o t he Nort h Pole, I should have m et som ebody t here, wandering Esquim aux or civilized m an, who would have t old m e t hat Pum blechook was m y earliest pat ron and t he founder of m y fort unes.
325
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 29 Bet im es in t he m orning I was up and out . I t was t oo early yet t o go t o Miss Havisham 's, so I loit ered int o t he count ry on Miss Havisham 's side of t own—which was not Joe's side; I could go t here t o- m orrow—t hinking about m y pat roness, and paint ing brilliant pict ures of her plans for m e. She had adopt ed Est ella, she had as good as adopt ed m e, and it could not fail t o be her int ent ion t o bring us t oget her. She reserved it for m e t o rest ore t he desolat e house, adm it t he sunshine int o t he dark room s, set t he clocks a- going and t he cold heart hs a- blazing, t ear down t he cobwebs, dest roy t he verm in—in short , do all t he shining deeds of t he young Knight of rom ance, and m arry t he Princess. I had st opped t o look at t he house as I passed; and it s seared red brick walls, blocked windows, and st rong green ivy clasping even t he st acks of chim neys wit h it s t wigs and t endons, as if wit h sinewy old arm s, had m ade up a rich at t ract ive m yst ery, of which I was t he hero. Est ella was t he inspirat ion of it , and t he heart of it , of course. But , t hough she had t aken such st rong possession of m e, t hough m y fancy and m y hope were so set upon her, t hough her influence on m y boyish life and charact er had been all- powerful, I did not , even t hat rom ant ic m orning, invest her wit h any at t ribut es save t hose she possessed. I m ent ion t his in t his place, of a fixed purpose, because it is t he clue by which I am t o be followed int o m y poor labyrint h. According t o m y experience, t he convent ional not ion of a lover cannot be always t rue. The unqualified t rut h 326
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
is, t hat when I loved Est ella wit h t he love of a m an, I loved her sim ply because I found her irresist ible. Once for all; I knew t o m y sorrow, oft en and oft en, if not always, t hat I loved her against reason, against prom ise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragem ent t hat could be. Once for all; I loved her none t he less because I knew it , and it had no m ore influence in rest raining m e, t han if I had devout ly believed her t o be hum an perfect ion. I so shaped out m y walk as t o arrive at t he gat e at m y old t im e. When I had rung at t he bell wit h an unst eady hand, I t urned m y back upon t he gat e, while I t ried t o get m y breat h and keep t he beat ing of m y heart m oderat ely quiet . I heard t he side door open, and st eps com e across t he court - yard; but I pret ended not t o hear, even when t he gat e swung on it s rust y hinges. Being at last t ouched on t he shoulder, I st art ed and t urned. I st art ed m uch m ore nat urally t hen, t o find m yself confront ed by a m an in a sober grey dress. The last m an I should have expect ed t o see in t hat place of port er at Miss Havisham 's door. “ Orlick! ” “ Ah, young m ast er, t here's m ore changes t han yours. But com e in, com e in. I t 's opposed t o m y orders t o hold t he gat e open.” I ent ered and he swung it , and locked it , and t ook t he key out . “ Yes! ” said he, facing round, aft er doggedly preceding m e a few st eps t owards t he house. “ Here I am ! ” “ How did you com e here?” 327
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I com e her,” he ret ort ed, “ on m y legs. I had m y box brought alongside m e in a barrow.” “ Are you here for good?” “ I ain't her for harm , young m ast er, I suppose?” I was not so sure of t hat . I had leisure t o ent ert ain t he ret ort in m y m ind, while he slowly lift ed his heavy glance from t he pavem ent , up m y legs and arm s, t o m y face. “ Then you have left t he forge?” I said. “ Do t his look like a forge?” replied Orlick, sending his glance all round him wit h an air of inj ury. “ Now, do it look like it ?” I asked him how long he had left Gargery's forge? “ One day is so like anot her here,” he replied, “ t hat I don't know wit hout cast ing it up. However, I com e her som e t im e since you left .” “ I could have t old you t hat , Orlick.” “ Ah! ” said he, drily. “ But t hen you've got t o be a scholar.” By t his t im e we had com e t o t he house, where I found his room t o be one j ust wit hin t he side door, wit h a lit t le window in it looking on t he court - yard. I n it s sm all proport ions, it was not unlike t he kind of place usually assigned t o a gat e- port er in Paris. Cert ain keys were hanging on t he wall, t o which he now added t he gat e- key; and his pat chwork- covered bed was in a lit t le inner division or recess. The whole had a slovenly confined and sleepy look, like a cage for a hum an dorm ouse: while he, loom ing dark and heavy in t he shadow of a corner by t he window, looked like t he hum an dorm ouse for whom it was fit t ed up—as indeed he was. 328
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I never saw t his room before,” I rem arked; “ but t here used t o be no Port er here.” “ No,” said he; “ not t ill it got about t hat t here was no prot ect ion on t he prem ises, and it com e t o be considered dangerous, wit h convict s and Tag and Rag and Bobt ail going up and down. And t hen I was recom m ended t o t he place as a m an who could give anot her m an as good as he brought , and I t ook it . I t 's easier t han bellowsing and ham m ering.—That 's loaded, t hat is.” My eye had been caught by a gun wit h a brass bound st ock over t he chim ney- piece, and his eye had followed m ine. “ Well,” said I , not desirous of m ore conversat ion, “ shall I go up t o Miss Havisham ?” “ Burn m e, if I know! ” he ret ort ed, first st ret ching him self and t hen shaking him self; “ m y orders ends here, young m ast er. I give t his here bell a rap wit h t his here ham m er, and you go on along t he passage t ill you m eet som ebody.” “ I am expect ed, I believe?” “ Burn m e t wice over, if I can say! ” said he. Upon t hat , I t urned down t he long passage which I had first t rodden in m y t hick boot s, and he m ade his bell sound. At t he end of t he passage, while t he bell was st ill reverberat ing, I found Sarah Pocket : who appeared t o have now becom e const it ut ionally green and yellow by reason of m e. “ Oh! ” said she. “ You, is it , Mr. Pip?” “ I t is, Miss Pocket . I am glad t o t ell you t hat Mr. Pocket and fam ily are all well.” 329
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Are t hey any wiser?” said Sarah, wit h a dism al shake of t he head; “ t hey had bet t er be wiser, t han well. Ah, Mat t hew, Mat t hew! You know your way, sir?” Tolerably, for I had gone up t he st aircase in t he dark, m any a t im e. I ascended it now, in light er boot s t han of yore, and t apped in m y old way at t he door of Miss Havisham 's room . “ Pip's rap,” I heard her say, im m ediat ely; “ com e in, Pip.” She was in her chair near t he old t able, in t he old dress, wit h her t wo hands crossed on her st ick, her chin rest ing on t hem , and her eyes on t he fire. Sit t ing near her, wit h t he whit e shoe t hat had never been worn, in her hand, and her head bent as she looked at it , was an elegant lady whom I had never seen. “ Com e in, Pip,” Miss Havisham cont inued t o m ut t er, wit hout looking round or up; “ com e in, Pip, how do you do, Pip? so you kiss m y hand as if I were a queen, eh?—Well?” She looked up at m e suddenly, only m oving her eyes, and repeat ed in a grim ly playful m anner, “ Well?” “ I heard, Miss Havisham ,” said I , rat her at a loss, “ t hat you were so kind as t o wish m e t o com e and see you, and I cam e direct ly.” “ Well?” The lady whom I had never seen before, lift ed up her eyes and looked archly at m e, and t hen I saw t hat t he eyes were Est ella's eyes. But she was so m uch changed, was so m uch m ore beaut iful, so m uch m ore wom anly, in all t hings winning adm irat ion had m ade such wonderful advance, t hat I seem ed 330
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o have m ade none. I fancied, as I looked at her, t hat I slipped hopelessly back int o t he coarse and com m on boy again. O t he sense of dist ance and disparit y t hat cam e upon m e, and t he inaccessibilit y t hat cam e about her! She gave m e her hand. I st am m ered som et hing about t he pleasure I felt in seeing her again, and about m y having looked forward t o it for a long, long t im e. “ Do you find her m uch changed, Pip?” asked Miss Havisham , wit h her greedy look, and st riking her st ick upon a chair t hat st ood bet ween t hem , as a sign t o m e t o sit down t here. “ When I cam e in, Miss Havisham , I t hought t here was not hing of Est ella in t he face or figure; but now it all set t les down so curiously int o t he old—” “ What ? You are not going t o say int o t he old Est ella?” Miss Havisham int errupt ed. “ She was proud and insult ing, and you want ed t o go away from her. Don't you rem em ber?” I said confusedly t hat t hat was long ago, and t hat I knew no bet t er t hen, and t he like. Est ella sm iled wit h perfect com posure, and said she had no doubt of m y having been quit e right , and of her having been very disagreeable. “ I s he changed?” Miss Havisham asked her. “ Very m uch,” said Est ella, looking at m e. “ Less coarse and com m on?” said Miss Havisham , playing wit h Est ella's hair. Est ella laughed, and looked at t he shoe in her hand, and laughed again, and looked at m e, and put t he shoe down. She t reat ed m e as a boy st ill, but she lured m e on. 331
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
We sat in t he dream y room am ong t he old st range influences which had so wrought upon m e, and I learnt t hat she had but j ust com e hom e from France, and t hat she was going t o London. Proud and wilful as of old, she had brought t hose qualit ies int o such subj ect ion t o her beaut y t hat it was im possible and out of nat ure—or I t hought so—t o separat e t hem from her beaut y. Truly it was im possible t o dissociat e her presence from all t hose wret ched hankerings aft er m oney and gent ilit y t hat had dist urbed m y boyhood—from all t hose ill- regulat ed aspirat ions t hat had first m ade m e asham ed of hom e and Joe—from all t hose visions t hat had raised her face in t he glowing fire, st ruck it out of t he iron on t he anvil, ext ract ed it from t he darkness of night t o look in at t he wooden window of t he forge and flit away. I n a word, it was im possible for m e t o separat e her, in t he past or in t he present , from t he innerm ost life of m y life. I t was set t led t hat I should st ay t here all t he rest of t he day, and ret urn t o t he hot el at night , and t o London t om orrow. When we had conversed for a while, Miss Havisham sent us t wo out t o walk in t he neglect ed garden: on our com ing in by- and- by, she said, I should wheel her about a lit t le as in t im es of yore. So, Est ella and I went out int o t he garden by t he gat e t hrough which I had st rayed t o m y encount er wit h t he pale young gent lem an, now Herbert ; I , t rem bling in spirit and worshipping t he very hem of her dress; she, quit e com posed and m ost decidedly not worshipping t he hem of m ine. As we drew near t o t he place of encount er, she st opped and said: 332
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I m ust have been a singular lit t le creat ure t o hide and see t hat fight t hat day: but I did, and I enj oyed it very m uch.” “ You rewarded m e very m uch.” “ Did I ?” she replied, in an incident al and forget ful way. “ I rem em ber I ent ert ained a great obj ect ion t o your adversary, because I t ook it ill t hat he should be brought here t o pest er m e wit h his com pany.” “ He and I are great friends now.” “ Are you? I t hink I recollect t hough, t hat you read wit h his fat her?” “ Yes.” I m ade t he adm ission wit h reluct ance, for it seem ed t o have a boyish look, and she already t reat ed m e m ore t han enough like a boy. “ Since your change of fort une and prospect s, you have changed your com panions,” said Est ella. “ Nat urally,” said I . “ And necessarily,” she added, in a haught y t one; “ what was fit com pany for you once, would be quit e unfit com pany for you now.” I n m y conscience, I doubt very m uch whet her I had any lingering int ent ion left , of going t o see Joe; but if I had, t his observat ion put it t o flight . “ You had no idea of your im pending good fort une, in t hose t im es?” said Est ella, wit h a slight wave of her hand, signifying in t he fight ing t im es. “ Not t he least .” The air of com plet eness and superiorit y wit h which she walked at m y side, and t he air of yout hfulness and 333
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
subm ission wit h which I walked at hers, m ade a cont rast t hat I st rongly felt . I t would have rankled in m e m ore t han it did, if I had not regarded m yself as elicit ing it by being so set apart for her and assigned t o her. The garden was t oo overgrown and rank for walking in wit h ease, and aft er we had m ade t he round of it t wice or t hrice, we cam e out again int o t he brewery yard. I showed her t o a nicet y where I had seen her walking on t he casks, t hat first old day, and she said, wit h a cold and careless look in t hat direct ion, “ Did I ?” I rem inded her where she had com e out of t he house and given m e m y m eat and drink, and she said, “ I don't rem em ber.” “ Not rem em ber t hat you m ade m e cry?” said I . “ No,” said she, and shook her head and looked about her. I verily believe t hat her not rem em bering and not m inding in t he least , m ade m e cry again, inwardly—and t hat is t he sharpest crying of all. “ You m ust know,” said Est ella, condescending t o m e as a brilliant and beaut iful wom an m ight , “ t hat I have no heart —if t hat has anyt hing t o do wit h m y m em ory.” I got t hrough som e j argon t o t he effect t hat I t ook t he libert y of doubt ing t hat . That I knew bet t er. That t here could be no such beaut y wit hout it . “ Oh! I have a heart t o be st abbed in or shot in, I have no doubt ,” said Est ella, “ and, of course, if it ceased t o beat I should cease t o be. But you know what I m ean. I have no soft ness t here, no—sym pat hy—sent im ent —nonsense.” What was it t hat was borne in upon m y m ind when she st ood st ill and looked at t ent ively at m e? Anyt hing t hat I had seen in Miss Havisham ? No. I n som e of her looks and 334
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
gest ures t here was t hat t inge of resem blance t o Miss Havisham which m ay oft en be not iced t o have been acquired by children, from grown person wit h whom t hey have been m uch associat ed and secluded, and which, when childhood is passed, will produce a rem arkable occasional likeness of expression bet ween faces t hat are ot herwise quit e different . And yet I could not t race t his t o Miss Havisham . I looked again, and t hough she was st ill looking at m e, t he suggest ion was gone. What was it ? “ I am serious,” said Est ella, not so m uch wit h a frown ( for her brow was sm oot h) as wit h a darkening of her face; “ if we are t o be t hrown m uch t oget her, you had bet t er believe it at once. No! ” im periously st opping m e as I opened m y lips. “ I have not best owed m y t enderness anywhere. I have never had any such t hing.” I n anot her m om ent we were in t he brewery so long disused, and she point ed t o t he high gallery where I had seen her going out on t hat sam e first day, and t old m e she rem em bered t o have been up t here, and t o have seen m e st anding scared below. As m y eyes followed her whit e hand, again t he sam e dim suggest ion t hat I could not possibly grasp, crossed m e. My involunt ary st art occasioned her t o lay her hand upon m y arm . I nst ant ly t he ghost passed once m ore, and was gone. What was it ? “ What is t he m at t er?” asked Est ella. “ Are you scared again?” 335
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I should be, if I believed what you said j ust now,” I replied, t o t urn it off. “ Then you don't ? Very well. I t is said, at any rat e. Miss Havisham will soon be expect ing you at your old post , t hough I t hink t hat m ight be laid aside now, wit h ot her old belongings. Let us m ake one m ore round of t he garden, and t hen go in. Com e! You shall not shed t ears for m y cruelt y t oday; you shall be m y Page, and give m e your shoulder.” Her handsom e dress had t railed upon t he ground. She held it in one hand now, and wit h t he ot her light ly t ouched m y shoulder as we walked. We walked round t he ruined garden t wice or t hrice m ore, and it was all in bloom for m e. I f t he green and yellow growt h of weed in t he chinks of t he old wall had been t he m ost precious flowers t hat ever blew, it could not have been m ore cherished in m y rem em brance. There was no discrepancy of years bet ween us, t o rem ove her far from m e; we were of nearly t he sam e age, t hough of course t he age t old for m ore in her case t han in m ine; but t he air of inaccessibilit y which her beaut y and her m anner gave her, t orm ent ed m e in t he m idst of m y delight , and at t he height of t he assurance I felt t hat our pat roness had chosen us for one anot her. Wret ched boy! At last we went back int o t he house, and t here I heard, wit h surprise, t hat m y guardian had com e down t o see Miss Havisham on business, and would com e back t o dinner. The old wint ry branches of chandeliers in t he room where t he m ouldering t able was spread, had been light ed while we were out , and Miss Havisham was in her chair and wait ing for m e. 336
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t was like pushing t he chair it self back int o t he past , when we began t he old slow circuit round about t he ashes of t he bridal feast . But , in t he funereal room , wit h t hat figure of t he grave fallen back in t he chair fixing it s eyes upon her, Est ella looked m ore bright and beaut iful t han before, and I was under st ronger enchant m ent . The t im e so m elt ed away, t hat our early dinner- hour drew close at hand, and Est ella left us t o prepare herself. We had st opped near t he cent re of t he long t able, and Miss Havisham , wit h one of her wit hered arm s st ret ched out of t he chair, rest ed t hat clenched hand upon t he yellow clot h. As Est ella looked back over her shoulder before going out at t he door, Miss Havisham kissed t hat hand t o her, wit h a ravenous int ensit y t hat was of it s kind quit e dreadful. Then, Est ella being gone and we t wo left alone, she t urned t o m e, and said in a whisper: “ I s she beaut iful, graceful, well- grown? Do you adm ire her?” “ Everybody m ust who sees her, Miss Havisham .” She drew an arm round m y neck, and drew m y head close down t o hers as she sat in t he chair. “ Love her, love her, love her! How does she use you?” Before I could answer ( if I could have answered so difficult a quest ion at all) , she repeat ed, “ Love her, love her, love her! I f she favours you, love her. I f she wounds you, love her. I f she t ears your heart t o pieces—and as it get s older and st ronger, it will t ear deeper—love her, love her, love her! ” Never had I seen such passionat e eagerness as was j oined t o her ut t erance of t hese words. I could feel t he m uscles of 337
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he t hin arm round m y neck, swell wit h t he vehem ence t hat possessed her. “ Hear m e, Pip! I adopt ed her t o be loved. I bred her and educat ed her, t o be loved. I developed her int o what she is, t hat she m ight be loved. Love her! ” She said t he word oft en enough, and t here could be no doubt t hat she m eant t o say it ; but if t he oft en repeat ed word had been hat e inst ead of love—despair—revenge—dire deat h—it could not have sounded from her lips m ore like a curse. “ I 'll t ell you,” said she, in t he sam e hurried passionat e whisper, “ what real love is. I t is blind devot ion, unquest ioning self- hum iliat ion, ut t er subm ission, t rust and belief against yourself and against t he whole world, giving up your whole heart and soul t o t he sm it er—as I did! ” When she cam e t o t hat , and t o a wild cry t hat followed t hat , I caught her round t he waist . For she rose up in t he chair, in her shroud of a dress, and st ruck at t he air as if she would as soon have st ruck herself against t he wall and fallen dead. All t his passed in a few seconds. As I drew her down int o her chair, I was conscious of a scent t hat I knew, and t urning, saw m y guardian in t he room . He always carried ( I have not yet m ent ioned it , I t hink) a pocket - handkerchief of rich silk and of im posing proport ions, which was of great value t o him in his profession. I have seen him so t errify a client or a wit ness by cerem oniously unfolding t his pocket - handkerchief as if he were im m ediat ely going t o blow his nose, and t hen pausing, as if he knew he should not 338
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
have t im e t o do it before such client or wit ness com m it t ed him self, t hat t he self- com m it t al has followed direct ly, quit e as a m at t er of course. When I saw him in t he room , he had t his expressive pocket handkerchief in bot h hands, and was looking at us. On m eet ing m y eye, he said plainly, by a m om ent ary and silent pause in t hat at t it ude, “ I ndeed? Singular! ” and t hen put t he handkerchief t o it s right use wit h wonderful effect . Miss Havisham had seen him as soon as I , and was ( like everybody else) afraid of him . She m ade a st rong at t em pt t o com pose herself, and st am m ered t hat he was as punct ual as ever. “ As punct ual as ever,” he repeat ed, com ing up t o us. “ ( How do you do, Pip? Shall I give you a ride, Miss Havisham ? Once round?) And so you are here, Pip?” I t old him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished m e t o com e and see Est ella. To which he replied, “ Ah! Very fine young lady! ” Then he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him , wit h one of his large hands, and put t he ot her in his t rousers- pocket as if t he pocket were full of secret s. “ Well, Pip! How oft en have you seen Miss Est ella before?” said he, when he cam e t o a st op. “ How oft en?” “ Ah! How m any t im es? Ten t housand t im es?” “ Oh! Cert ainly not so m any.” “ Twice?” “ Jaggers,” int erposed Miss Havisham , m uch t o m y relief; “ leave m y Pip alone, and go wit h him t o your dinner.” 339
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He com plied, and we groped our way down t he dark st airs t oget her. While we were st ill on our way t o t hose det ached apart m ent s across t he paved yard at t he back, he asked m e how oft en I had seen Miss Havisham eat and drink; offering m e a breadt h of choice, as usual, bet ween a hundred t im es and once. I considered, and said, “ Never.” “ And never will, Pip,” he ret ort ed, wit h a frowning sm ile. “ She has never allowed herself t o be seen doing eit her, since she lived t his present life of hers. She wanders about in t he night , and t hen lays hands on such food as she t akes.” “ Pray, sir,” said I , “ m ay I ask you a quest ion?” “ You m ay,” said he, “ and I m ay decline t o answer it . Put your quest ion.” “ Est ella's nam e. I s it Havisham or—?” I had not hing t o add. “ Or what ?” said he. “ I s it Havisham ?” “ I t is Havisham .” This brought us t o t he dinner- t able, where she and Sarah Pocket await ed us. Mr. Jaggers presided, Est ella sat opposit e t o him , I faced m y green and yellow friend. We dined very well, and were wait ed on by a m aid- servant whom I had never seen in all m y com ings and goings, but who, for anyt hing I know, had been in t hat m yst erious house t he whole t im e. Aft er dinner, a bot t le of choice old port was placed before m y guardian ( he was evident ly well acquaint ed wit h t he vint age) , and t he t wo ladies left us. 340
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Anyt hing t o equal t he det erm ined ret icence of Mr. Jaggers under t hat roof, I never saw elsewhere, even in him . He kept his very looks t o him self, and scarcely direct ed his eyes t o Est ella's face once during dinner. When she spoke t o him , he list ened, and in due course answered, but never looked at her, t hat I could see. On t he ot her hand, she oft en looked at him , wit h int erest and curiosit y, if not dist rust , but his face never, showed t he least consciousness. Throughout dinner he t ook a dry delight in m aking Sarah Pocket greener and yellower, by oft en referring in conversat ion wit h m e t o m y expect at ions; but here, again, he showed no consciousness, and even m ade it appear t hat he ext ort ed—and even did ext ort , t hough I don't know how—t hose references out of m y innocent self. And when he and I were left alone t oget her, he sat wit h an air upon him of general lying by in consequence of inform at ion he possessed, t hat really was t oo m uch for m e. He cross- exam ined his very wine when he had not hing else in hand. He held it bet ween him self and t he candle, t ast ed t he port , rolled it in his m out h, swallowed it , looked at his glass again, sm elt t he port , t ried it , drank it , filled again, and crossexam ined t he glass again, unt il I was as nervous as if I had known t he wine t o be t elling him som et hing t o m y disadvant age. Three or four t im es I feebly t hought I would st art conversat ion; but whenever he saw m e going t o ask him anyt hing, he looked at m e wit h his glass in his hand, and rolling his wine about in his m out h, as if request ing m e t o t ake not ice t hat it was of no use, for he couldn't answer. 341
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t hink Miss Pocket was conscious t hat t he sight of m e involved her in t he danger of being goaded t o m adness, and perhaps t earing off her cap—which was a very hideous one, in t he nat ure of a m uslin m op—and st rewing t he ground wit h her hair—which assuredly had never grown on her head. She did not appear when we aft erwards went up t o Miss Havisham 's room , and we four played at whist . I n t he int erval, Miss Havisham , in a fant ast ic way, had put som e of t he m ost beaut iful j ewels from her dressing- t able int o Est ella's hair, and about her bosom and arm s; and I saw even m y guardian look at her from under his t hick eyebrows, and raise t hem a lit t le, when her loveliness was before him , wit h t hose rich flushes of glit t er and colour in it . Of t he m anner and ext ent t o which he t ook our t rum ps int o cust ody, and cam e out wit h m ean lit t le cards at t he ends of hands, before which t he glory of our Kings and Queens was ut t erly abased, I say not hing; nor, of t he feeling t hat I had, respect ing his looking upon us personally in t he light of t hree very obvious and poor riddles t hat he had found out long ago. What I suffered from , was t he incom pat ibilit y bet ween his cold presence and m y feelings t owards Est ella. I t was not t hat I knew I could never bear t o speak t o him about her, t hat I knew I could never bear t o hear him creak his boot s at her, t hat I knew I could never bear t o see him wash his hands of her; it was, t hat m y adm irat ion should be wit hin a foot or t wo of him —it was, t hat m y feelings should be in t he sam e place wit h him —t hat , was t he agonizing circum st ance. We played unt il nine o'clock, and t hen it was arranged t hat when Est ella cam e t o London I should be forewarned of her 342
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
com ing and should m eet her at t he coach; and t hen I t ook leave of her, and t ouched her and left her. My guardian lay at t he Boar in t he next room t o m ine. Far int o t he night , Miss Havisham 's words, “ Love her, love her, love her! ” sounded in m y ears. I adapt ed t hem for m y own repet it ion, and said t o m y pillow, “ I love her, I love her, I love her! ” hundreds of t im es. Then, a burst of grat it ude cam e upon m e, t hat she should be dest ined for m e, once t he blacksm it h's boy. Then, I t hought if she were, as I feared, by no m eans rapt urously grat eful for t hat dest iny yet , when would she begin t o be int erest ed in m e? When should I awaken t he heart wit hin her, t hat was m ut e and sleeping now? Ah m e! I t hought t hose were high and great em ot ions. But I never t hought t here was anyt hing low and sm all in m y keeping away from Joe, because I knew she would be cont em pt uous of him . I t was but a day gone, and Joe had brought t he t ears int o m y eyes; t hey had soon dried, God forgive m e! soon dried.
343
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 30 Aft er well considering t he m at t er while I was dressing at t he Blue Boar in t he m orning, I resolved t o t ell m y guardian t hat I doubt ed Orlick's being t he right sort of m an t o fill a post of t rust at Miss Havisham 's. “ Why, of course he is not t he right sort of m an, Pip,” said m y guardian, com fort ably sat isfied beforehand on t he general head, “ because t he m an who fills t he post of t rust never is t he right sort of m an.” I t seem ed quit e t o put him int o spirit s, t o find t hat t his part icular post was not except ionally held by t he right sort of m an, and he list ened in a sat isfied m anner while I t old him what knowledge I had of Orlick. “ Very good, Pip,” he observed, when I had concluded, “ I 'll go round present ly, and pay our friend off.” Rat her alarm ed by t his sum m ary act ion, I was for a lit t le delay, and even hint ed t hat our friend him self m ight be difficult t o deal wit h. “ Oh no he won't ,” said m y guardian, m aking his pocket - handkerchief- point , wit h perfect confidence; “ I should like t o see him argue t he quest ion wit h m e.” As we were going back t oget her t o London by t he m id- day coach, and as I breakfast ed under such t errors of Pum blechook t hat I could scarcely hold m y cup, t his gave m e an opport unit y of saying t hat I want ed a walk, and t hat I would go on along t he London- road while Mr. Jaggers was occupied, if he would let t he coachm an know t hat I would get int o m y place when overt aken. I was t hus enabled t o fly from t he Blue Boar im m ediat ely aft er breakfast . By t hen m aking a 344
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
loop of about a couple of m iles int o t he open count ry at t he back of Pum blechook's prem ises, I got round int o t he Highst reet again, a lit t le beyond t hat pit fall, and felt m yself in com parat ive securit y. I t was int erest ing t o be in t he quiet old t own once m ore, and it was not disagreeable t o be here and t here suddenly recognized and st ared aft er. One or t wo of t he t radespeople even dart ed out of t heir shops and went a lit t le way down t he st reet before m e, t hat t hey m ight t urn, as if t hey had forgot t en som et hing, and pass m e face t o face—on which occasions I don't know whet her t hey or I m ade t he worse pret ence; t hey of not doing it , or I of not seeing it . St ill m y posit ion was a dist inguished one, and I was not at all dissat isfied wit h it , unt il Fat e t hrew m e in t he way of t hat unlim it ed m iscreant , Trabb's boy. Cast ing m y eyes along t he st reet at a cert ain point of m y progress, I beheld Trabb's boy approaching, lashing him self wit h an em pt y blue bag. Deem ing t hat a serene and unconscious cont em plat ion of him would best beseem m e, and would be m ost likely t o quell his evil m ind, I advanced wit h t hat expression of count enance, and was rat her congrat ulat ing m yself on m y success, when suddenly t he knees of Trabb's boy sm ot e t oget her, his hair uprose, his cap fell off, he t rem bled violent ly in every lim b, st aggered out int o t he road, and crying t o t he populace, “ Hold m e! I 'm so fright ened! ” feigned t o be in a paroxysm of t error and cont rit ion, occasioned by t he dignit y of m y appearance. As I passed him , his t eet h loudly chat t ered in his head, and wit h 345
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
every m ark of ext rem e hum iliat ion, he prost rat ed him self in t he dust . This was a hard t hing t o bear, but t his was not hing. I had not advanced anot her t wo hundred yards, when, t o m y inexpressible t error, am azem ent , and indignat ion, I again beheld Trabb's boy approaching. He was com ing round a narrow corner. His blue bag was slung over his shoulder, honest indust ry beam ed in his eyes, a det erm inat ion t o proceed t o Trabb's wit h cheerful briskness was indicat ed in his gait . Wit h a shock he becam e aware of m e, and was severely visit ed as before; but t his t im e his m ot ion was rot at ory, and he st aggered round and round m e wit h knees m ore afflict ed, and wit h uplift ed hands as if beseeching for m ercy. His sufferings were hailed wit h t he great est j oy by a knot of spect at ors, and I felt ut t erly confounded. I had not got as m uch furt her down t he st reet as t he post office, when I again beheld Trabb's boy shoot ing round by a back way. This t im e, he was ent irely changed. He wore t he blue bag in t he m anner of m y great - coat , and was st rut t ing along t he pavem ent t owards m e on t he opposit e side of t he st reet , at t ended by a com pany of delight ed young friends t o whom he from t im e t o t im e exclaim ed, wit h a wave of his hand, “ Don't know yah! ” Words cannot st at e t he am ount of aggravat ion and inj ury wreaked upon m e by Trabb's boy, when, passing abreast of m e, he pulled up his shirt - collar, t wined his side- hair, st uck an arm akim bo, and sm irked ext ravagant ly by, wriggling his elbows and body, and drawling t o his at t endant s, “ Don't know yah, don't know yah, pon m y soul don't know yah! ” The disgrace at t endant on his 346
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
im m ediat ely aft erwards t aking t o crowing and pursuing m e across t he bridge wit h crows, as from an exceedingly dej ect ed fowl who had known m e when I was a blacksm it h, culm inat ed t he disgrace wit h which I left t he t own, and was, so t o speak, ej ect ed by it int o t he open count ry. But unless I had t aken t he life of Trabb's boy on t hat occasion, I really do not even now see what I could have done save endure. To have st ruggled wit h him in t he st reet , or t o have exact ed any lower recom pense from him t han his heart 's best blood, would have been fut ile and degrading. Moreover, he was a boy whom no m an could hurt ; an invulnerable and dodging serpent who, when chased int o a corner, flew out again bet ween his capt or's legs, scornfully yelping. I wrot e, however, t o Mr. Trabb by next day's post , t o say t hat Mr. Pip m ust decline t o deal furt her wit h one who could so far forget what he owed t o t he best int erest s of societ y, as t o em ploy a boy who excit ed Loat hing in every respect able m ind. The coach, wit h Mr. Jaggers inside, cam e up in due t im e, and I t ook m y box- seat again, and arrived in London safe— but not sound, for m y heart was gone. As soon as I arrived, I sent a penit ent ial codfish and barrel of oyst ers t o Joe ( as reparat ion for not having gone m yself) , and t hen went on t o Barnard's I nn. I found Herbert dining on cold m eat , and delight ed t o welcom e m e back. Having despat ched The Avenger t o t he coffee- house for an addit ion t o t he dinner, I felt t hat I m ust open m y breast t hat very evening t o m y friend and chum . As confidence was out of t he quest ion wit h The Avenger in t he 347
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
hall, which could m erely be regarded in t he light of an ant echam ber t o t he keyhole, I sent him t o t he Play. A bet t er proof of t he severit y of m y bondage t o t hat t askm ast er could scarcely be afforded, t han t he degrading shift s t o which I was const ant ly driven t o find him em ploym ent . So m ean is ext rem it y, t hat I som et im es sent him t o Hyde Park Corner t o see what o'clock it was. Dinner done and we sit t ing wit h our feet upon t he fender, I said t o Herbert , “ My dear Herbert , I have som et hing very part icular t o t ell you.” “ My dear Handel,” he ret urned, “ I shall est eem and respect your confidence.” “ I t concerns m yself, Herbert ,” said I , “ and one ot her person.” Herbert crossed his feet , looked at t he fire wit h his head on one side, and having looked at it in vain for som e t im e, looked at m e because I didn't go on. “ Herbert ,” said I , laying m y hand upon his knee, “ I love—I adore—Est ella.” I nst ead of being t ransfixed, Herbert replied in an easy m at t er- ofcourse way, “ Exact ly. Well?” “ Well, Herbert ? I s t hat all you say? Well?” “ What next , I m ean?” said Herbert . “ Of course I know t hat .” “ How do you know it ?” said I . “ How do I know it , Handel? Why, from you.” “ I never t old you.” “ Told m e! You have never t old m e when you have got your hair cut , but I have had senses t o perceive it . You have 348
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
always adored her, ever since I have known you. You brought your adorat ion and your port m ant eau here, t oget her. Told m e! Why, you have always t old m e all day long. When you t old m e your own st ory, you t old m e plainly t hat you began adoring her t he first t im e you saw her, when you were very young indeed.” “ Very well, t hen,” said I , t o whom t his was a new and not unwelcom e light , “ I have never left off adoring her. And she has com e back, a m ost beaut iful and m ost elegant creat ure. And I saw her yest erday. And if I adored her before, I now doubly adore her.” “ Lucky for you t hen, Handel,” said Herbert , “ t hat you are picked out for her and allot t ed t o her. Wit hout encroaching on forbidden ground, we m ay vent ure t o say t hat t here can be no doubt bet ween ourselves of t hat fact . Have you any idea yet , of Est ella's views on t he adorat ion quest ion?” I shook m y head gloom ily. “ Oh! She is t housands of m iles away, from m e,” said I . “ Pat ience, m y dear Handel: t im e enough, t im e enough. But you have som et hing m ore t o say?” “ I am asham ed t o say it ,” I ret urned, “ and yet it 's no worse t o say it t han t o t hink it . You call m e a lucky fellow. Of course, I am . I was a blacksm it h's boy but yest erday; I am — what shall I say I am —t o- day?” “ Say, a good fellow, if you want a phrase,” ret urned Herbert , sm iling, and clapping his hand on t he back of m ine, “ a good fellow, wit h im pet uosit y and hesit at ion, boldness and diffidence, act ion and dream ing, curiously m ixed in him .” 349
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I st opped for a m om ent t o consider whet her t here really was t his m ixt ure in m y charact er. On t he whole, I by no m eans recognized t he analysis, but t hought it not wort h disput ing. “ When I ask what I am t o call m yself t o- day, Herbert ,” I went on, “ I suggest what I have in m y t hought s. You say I am lucky. I know I have done not hing t o raise m yself in life, and t hat Fort une alone has raised m e; t hat is being very lucky. And yet , when I t hink of Est ella—” ( " And when don't you, you know?” Herbert t hrew in, wit h his eyes on t he fire; which I t hought kind and sym pat het ic of him .) “ —Then, m y dear Herbert , I cannot t ell you how dependent and uncert ain I feel, and how exposed t o hundreds of chances. Avoiding forbidden ground, as you did j ust now, I m ay st ill say t hat on t he const ancy of one person ( nam ing no person) all m y expect at ions depend. And at t he best , how indefinit e and unsat isfact ory, only t o know so vaguely what t hey are! ” I n saying t his, I relieved m y m ind of what had always been t here, m ore or less, t hough no doubt m ost since yest erday. “ Now, Handel,” Herbert replied, in his gay hopeful way, “ it seem s t o m e t hat in t he despondency of t he t ender passion, we are looking int o our gift - horse's m out h wit h a m agnifyingglass. Likewise, it seem s t o m e t hat , concent rat ing our at t ent ion on t he exam inat ion, we alt oget her overlook one of t he best point s of t he anim al. Didn't you t ell m e t hat your guardian, Mr. Jaggers, t old you in t he beginning, t hat you were not endowed wit h expect at ions only? And even if he had 350
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
not t old you so—t hough t hat is a very large I f, I grant —could you believe t hat of all m en in London, Mr. Jaggers is t he m an t o hold his present relat ions t owards you unless he were sure of his ground?” I said I could not deny t hat t his was a st rong point . I said it ( people oft en do so, in such cases) like a rat her reluct ant concession t o t rut h and j ust ice; —as if I want ed t o deny it ! “ I should t hink it was a st rong point ,” said Herbert , “ and I should t hink you would be puzzled t o im agine a st ronger; as t o t he rest , you m ust bide your guardian's t im e, and he m ust bide his client 's t im e. You'll be one- and- t went y before you know where you are, and t hen perhaps you'll get som e furt her enlight enm ent . At all event s, you'll be nearer get t ing it , for it m ust com e at last .” “ What a hopeful disposit ion you have! ” said I , grat efully adm iring his cheery ways. “ I ought t o have,” said Herbert , “ for I have not m uch else. I m ust acknowledge, by- t he- bye, t hat t he good sense of what I have j ust said is not m y own, but m y fat her's. The only rem ark I ever heard him m ake on your st ory, was t he final one: “ The t hing is set t led and done, or Mr. Jaggers would not be in it .” And now before I say anyt hing m ore about m y fat her, or m y fat her's son, and repay confidence wit h confidence, I want t o m ake m yself seriously disagreeable t o you for a m om ent —posit ively repulsive.” “ You won't succeed,” said I . “ Oh yes I shall! ” said he. “ One, t wo, t hree, and now I am in for it . Handel, m y good fellow; ” t hough he spoke in t his light t one, he was very m uch in earnest : “ I have been 351
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hinking since we have been t alking wit h our feet on t his fender, t hat Est ella surely cannot be a condit ion of your inherit ance, if she was never referred t o by your guardian. Am I right in so underst anding what you have t old m e, as t hat he never referred t o her, direct ly or indirect ly, in any way? Never even hint ed, for inst ance, t hat your pat ron m ight have views as t o your m arriage ult im at ely?” “ Never.” “ Now, Handel, I am quit e free from t he flavour of sour grapes, upon m y soul and honour! Not being bound t o her, can you not det ach yourself from her?—I t old you I should be disagreeable.” I t urned m y head aside, for, wit h a rush and a sweep, like t he old m arsh winds com ing up from t he sea, a feeling like t hat which had subdued m e on t he m orning when I left t he forge, when t he m ist s were solem nly rising, and when I laid m y hand upon t he village finger- post , sm ot e upon m y heart again. There was silence bet ween us for a lit t le while. “ Yes; but m y dear Handel,” Herbert went on, as if we had been t alking inst ead of silent , “ it s having been so st rongly root ed in t he breast of a boy whom nat ure and circum st ances m ade so rom ant ic, renders it very serious. Think of her bringing- up, and t hink of Miss Havisham . Think of what she is herself ( now I am repulsive and you abom inat e m e) . This m ay lead t o m iserable t hings.” “ I know it , Herbert ,” said I , wit h m y head st ill t urned away, “ but I can't help it .” “ You can't det ach yourself?” “ No. I m possible! ” 352
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You can't t ry, Handel?” “ No. I m possible! ” “ Well! ” said Herbert , get t ing up wit h a lively shake as if he had been asleep, and st irring t he fire; “ now I 'll endeavour t o m ake m yself agreeable again! ” So he went round t he room and shook t he curt ains out , put t he chairs in t heir places, t idied t he books and so fort h t hat were lying about , looked int o t he hall, peeped int o t he let t er- box, shut t he door, and cam e back t o his chair by t he fire: where he sat down, nursing his left leg in bot h arm s. “ I was going t o say a word or t wo, Handel, concerning m y fat her and m y fat her's son. I am afraid it is scarcely necessary for m y fat her's son t o rem ark t hat m y fat her's est ablishm ent is not part icularly brilliant in it s housekeeping.” “ There is always plent y, Herbert ,” said I : t o say som et hing encouraging. “ Oh yes! and so t he dust m an says, I believe, wit h t he st rongest approval, and so does t he m arine- st ore shop in t he back st reet . Gravely, Handel, for t he subj ect is grave enough, you know how it is, as well as I do. I suppose t here was a t im e once when m y fat her had not given m at t ers up; but if ever t here was, t he t im e is gone. May I ask you if you have ever had an opport unit y of rem arking, down in your part of t he count ry, t hat t he children of not exact ly suit able m arriages, are always m ost part icularly anxious t o be m arried?” This was such a singular quest ion, t hat I asked him in ret urn, “ I s it so?” 353
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I don't know,” said Herbert , “ t hat 's what I want t o know. Because it is decidedly t he case wit h us. My poor sist er Charlot t e who was next m e and died before she was fourt een, was a st riking exam ple. Lit t le Jane is t he sam e. I n her desire t o be m at rim onially est ablished, you m ight suppose her t o have passed her short exist ence in t he perpet ual cont em plat ion of dom est ic bliss. Lit t le Alick in a frock has already m ade arrangem ent s for his union wit h a suit able young person at Kew. And indeed, I t hink we are all engaged, except t he baby.” “ Then you are?” said I . “ I am ,” said Herbert ; “ but it 's a secret .” I assured him of m y keeping t he secret , and begged t o be favoured wit h furt her part iculars. He had spoken so sensibly and feelingly of m y weakness t hat I want ed t o know som et hing about his st rengt h. “ May I ask t he nam e?” I said. “ Nam e of Clara,” said Herbert . “ Live in London?” “ Yes. perhaps I ought t o m ent ion,” said Herbert , who had becom e curiously crest fallen and m eek, since we ent ered on t he int erest ing t hem e, “ t hat she is rat her below m y m ot her's nonsensical fam ily not ions. Her fat her had t o do wit h t he vict ualling of passenger- ships. I t hink he was a species of purser.” “ What is he now?” said I . “ He's an invalid now,” replied Herbert . “ Living on—?” 354
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ On t he first floor,” said Herbert . Which was not at all what I m eant , for I had int ended m y quest ion t o apply t o his m eans. “ I have never seen him , for he has always kept his room overhead, since I have known Clara. But I have heard him const ant ly. He m akes t rem endous rows—roars, and pegs at t he floor wit h som e fright ful inst rum ent .” I n looking at m e and t hen laughing heart ily, Herbert for t he t im e recovered his usual lively m anner. “ Don't you expect t o see him ?” said I . “ Oh yes, I const ant ly expect t o see him ,” ret urned Herbert , “ because I never hear him , wit hout expect ing him t o com e t um bling t hrough t he ceiling. But I don't know how long t he raft ers m ay hold.” When he had once m ore laughed heart ily, he becam e m eek again, and t old m e t hat t he m om ent he began t o realize Capit al, it was his int ent ion t o m arry t his young lady. He added as a self- evident proposit ion, engendering low spirit s, “ But you can't m arry, you know, while you're looking about you.” As we cont em plat ed t he fire, and as I t hought what a difficult vision t o realize t his sam e Capit al som et im es was, I put m y hands in m y pocket s. A folded piece of paper in one of t hem at t ract ing m y at t ent ion, I opened it and found it t o be t he playbill I had received from Joe, relat ive t o t he celebrat ed provincial am at eur of Roscian renown. “ And bless m y heart ,” I involunt arily added aloud, “ it 's t o- night ! ” This changed t he subj ect in an inst ant , and m ade us hurriedly resolve t o go t o t he play. So, when I had pledged m yself t o com fort and abet Herbert in t he affair of his heart 355
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
by all pract icable and im pract icable m eans, and when Herbert had t old m e t hat his affianced already knew m e by reput at ion and t hat I should be present ed t o her, and when we had warm ly shaken hands upon our m ut ual confidence, we blew out our candles, m ade up our fire, locked our door, and issued fort h in quest of Mr. Wopsle and Denm ark.
356
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 31 On our arrival in Denm ark, we found t he king and queen of t hat count ry elevat ed in t wo arm - chairs on a kit chen- t able, holding a Court . The whole of t he Danish nobilit y were in at t endance; consist ing of a noble boy in t he wash- leat her boot s of a gigant ic ancest or, a venerable Peer wit h a dirt y face who seem ed t o have risen from t he people lat e in life, and t he Danish chivalry wit h a com b in it s hair and a pair of whit e silk legs, and present ing on t he whole a fem inine appearance. My gift ed t ownsm an st ood gloom ily apart , wit h folded arm s, and I could have wished t hat his curls and forehead had been m ore probable. Several curious lit t le circum st ances t ranspired as t he act ion proceeded. The lat e king of t he count ry not only appeared t o have been t roubled wit h a cough at t he t im e of his decease, but t o have t aken it wit h him t o t he t om b, and t o have brought it back. The royal phant om also carried a ghost ly m anuscript round it s t runcheon, t o which it had t he appearance of occasionally referring, and t hat , t oo, wit h an air of anxiet y and a t endency t o lose t he place of reference which were suggest ive of a st at e of m ort alit y. I t was t his, I conceive, which led t o t he Shade's being advised by t he gallery t o “ t urn over! " —a recom m endat ion which it t ook ext rem ely ill. I t was likewise t o be not ed of t his m aj est ic spirit t hat whereas it always appeared wit h an air of having been out a long t im e and walked an im m ense dist ance, it percept ibly cam e from a closely cont iguous wall. This 357
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
occasioned it s t errors t o be received derisively. The Queen of Denm ark, a very buxom lady, t hough no doubt hist orically brazen, was considered by t he public t o have t oo m uch brass about her; her chin being at t ached t o her diadem by a broad band of t hat m et al ( as if she had a gorgeous t oot hache) , her waist being encircled by anot her, and each of her arm s by anot her, so t hat she was openly m ent ioned as “ t he ket t ledrum .” The noble boy in t he ancest ral boot s, was inconsist ent ; represent ing him self, as it were in one breat h, as an able seam an, a st rolling act or, a grave- digger, a clergym an, and a person of t he ut m ost im port ance at a Court fencing- m at ch, on t he aut horit y of whose pract ised eye and nice discrim inat ion t he finest st rokes were j udged. This gradually led t o a want of t olerat ion for him , and even—on his being det ect ed in holy orders, and declining t o perform t he funeral service—t o t he general indignat ion t aking t he form of nut s. Last ly, Ophelia was a prey t o such slow m usical m adness, t hat when, in course of t im e, she had t aken off her whit e m uslin scarf, folded it up, and buried it , a sulky m an who had been long cooling his im pat ient nose against an iron bar in t he front row of t he gallery, growled, “ Now t he baby's put t o bed let 's have supper! ” Which, t o say t he least of it , was out of keeping. Upon m y unfort unat e t ownsm an all t hese incident s accum ulat ed wit h playful effect . Whenever t hat undecided Prince had t o ask a quest ion or st at e a doubt , t he public helped him out wit h it . As for exam ple; on t he quest ion whet her ‘t was nobler in t he m ind t o suffer, som e roared yes, and som e no, and som e inclining t o bot h opinions said “ t oss 358
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
up for it ; ” and quit e a Debat ing Societ y arose. When he asked what should such fellows as he do crawling bet ween eart h and heaven, he was encouraged wit h loud cries of “ Hear, hear! ” When he appeared wit h his st ocking disordered ( it s disorder expressed, according t o usage, by one very neat fold in t he t op, which I suppose t o be always got up wit h a flat iron) , a conversat ion t ook place in t he gallery respect ing t he paleness of his leg, and whet her it was occasioned by t he t urn t he ghost had given him . On his t aking t he recorders—very like a lit t le black flut e t hat had j ust been played in t he orchest ra and handed out at t he door—he was called upon unanim ously for Rule Brit annia. When he recom m ended t he player not t o saw t he air t hus, t he sulky m an said, “ And don't you do it , neit her; you're a deal worse t han him ! ” And I grieve t o add t hat peals of laught er greet ed Mr. Wopsle on every one of t hese occasions. But his great est t rials were in t he churchyard: which had t he appearance of a prim eval forest , wit h a kind of sm all ecclesiast ical wash- house on one side, and a t urnpike gat e on t he ot her. Mr. Wopsle in a com prehensive black cloak, being descried ent ering at t he t urnpike, t he gravedigger was adm onished in a friendly way, “ Look out ! Here's t he undert aker a- com ing, t o see how you're a- get t ing on wit h your work! ” I believe it is well known in a const it ut ional count ry t hat Mr. Wopsle could not possibly have ret urned t he skull, aft er m oralizing over it , wit hout dust ing his fingers on a whit e napkin t aken from his breast ; but even t hat innocent and indispensable act ion did not pass wit hout t he com m ent “ Wai- t er! ” The arrival of t he body for int erm ent ( in an em pt y 359
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
black box wit h t he lid t um bling open) , was t he signal for a general j oy which was m uch enhanced by t he discovery, am ong t he bearers, of an individual obnoxious t o ident ificat ion. The j oy at t ended Mr. Wopsle t hrough his st ruggle wit h Laert es on t he brink of t he orchest ra and t he grave, and slackened no m ore unt il he had t um bled t he king off t he kit chen- t able, and had died by inches from t he ankles upward. We had m ade som e pale effort s in t he beginning t o applaud Mr. Wopsle; but t hey were t oo hopeless t o be persist ed in. Therefore we had sat , feeling keenly for him , but laughing, nevert heless, from ear t o ear. I laughed in spit e of m yself all t he t im e, t he whole t hing was so droll; and yet I had a lat ent im pression t hat t here was som et hing decidedly fine in Mr. Wopsle's elocut ion—not for old associat ions’ sake, I am afraid, but because it was very slow, very dreary, very up- hill and down- hill, and very unlike any way in which any m an in any nat ural circum st ances of life or deat h ever expressed him self about anyt hing. When t he t ragedy was over, and he had been called for and hoot ed, I said t o Herbert , “ Let us go at once, or perhaps we shall m eet him .” We m ade all t he hast e we could down- st airs, but we were not quick enough eit her. St anding at t he door was a Jewish m an wit h an unnat ural heavy sm ear of eyebrow, who caught m y eyes as we advanced, and said, when we cam e up wit h him : “ Mr. Pip and friend?” I dent it y of Mr. Pip and friend confessed. 360
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Mr. Waldengarver,” said t he m an, “ would be glad t o have t he honour.” “ Waldengarver?” I repeat ed—when Herbert m urm ured in m y ear, “ Probably Wopsle.” “ Oh! ” said I . “ Yes. Shall we follow you?” “ A few st eps, please.” When we were in a side alley, he t urned and asked, “ How did you t hink he looked?—I dressed him .” I don't know what he had looked like, except a funeral; wit h t he addit ion of a large Danish sun or st ar hanging round his neck by a blue ribbon, t hat had given him t he appearance of being insured in som e ext raordinary Fire Office. But I said he had looked very nice. “ When he com e t o t he grave,” said our conduct or, “ he showed his cloak beaut iful. But , j udging from t he wing, it looked t o m e t hat when he see t he ghost in t he queen's apart m ent , he m ight have m ade m ore of his st ockings.” I m odest ly assent ed, and we all fell t hrough a lit t le dirt y swing door, int o a sort of hot packing- case im m ediat ely behind it . Here Mr. Wopsle was divest ing him self of his Danish garm ent s, and here t here was j ust room for us t o look at him over one anot her's shoulders, by keeping t he packing- case door, or lid, wide open. “ Gent lem en,” said Mr. Wopsle, “ I am proud t o see you. I hope, Mr. Pip, you will excuse m y sending round. I had t he happiness t o know you in form er t im es, and t he Dram a has ever had a claim which has ever been acknowledged, on t he noble and t he affluent .” 361
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Meanwhile, Mr. Waldengarver, in a fright ful perspirat ion, was t rying t o get him self out of his princely sables. “ Skin t he st ockings off, Mr. Waldengarver,” said t he owner of t hat propert y, “ or you'll bust ‘em . Bust ‘em , and you'll bust five- and- t hirt y shillings. Shakspeare never was com plim ent ed wit h a finer pair. Keep quiet in your chair now, and leave ‘em t o m e.” Wit h t hat , he went upon his knees, and began t o flay his vict im ; who, on t he first st ocking com ing off, would cert ainly have fallen over backward wit h his chair, but for t here being no room t o fall anyhow. I had been afraid unt il t hen t o say a word about t he play. But t hen, Mr. Waldengarver looked up at us com placent ly, and said: “ Gent lem en, how did it seem t o you, t o go, in front ?” Herbert said from behind ( at t he sam e t im e poking m e) , “ capit ally.” So I said “ capit ally.” “ How did you like m y reading of t he charact er, gent lem en?” said Mr. Waldengarver, alm ost , if not quit e, wit h pat ronage. Herbert said from behind ( again poking m e) , “ m assive and concret e.” So I said boldly, as if I had originat ed it , and m ust beg t o insist upon it , “ m assive and concret e.” “ I am glad t o have your approbat ion, gent lem en,” said Mr. Waldengarver, wit h an air of dignit y, in spit e of his being ground against t he wall at t he t im e, and holding on by t he seat of t he chair. “ But I 'll t ell you one t hing, Mr. Waldengarver,” said t he m an who was on his knees, “ in which you're out in your 362
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
reading. Now m ind! I don't care who says cont rairy; I t ell you so. You're out in your reading of Ham let when you get your legs in profile. The last Ham let as I dressed, m ade t he sam e m ist akes in his reading at rehearsal, t ill I got him t o put a large red wafer on each of his shins, and t hen at t hat rehearsal ( which was t he last ) I went in front , sir, t o t he back of t he pit , and whenever his reading brought him int o profile, I called out “ I don't see no wafers! ” And at night his reading was lovely.” Mr. Waldengarver sm iled at m e, as m uch as t o say “ a fait hful dependent —I overlook his folly; ” and t hen said aloud, “ My view is a lit t le classic and t hought ful for t hem here; but t hey will im prove, t hey will im prove.” Herbert and I said t oget her, Oh, no doubt t hey would im prove. “ Did you observe, gent lem en,” said Mr. Waldengarver, “ t hat t here was a m an in t he gallery who endeavoured t o cast derision on t he service—I m ean, t he represent at ion?” We basely replied t hat we rat her t hought we had not iced such a m an. I added, “ He was drunk, no doubt .” “ Oh dear no, sir,” said Mr. Wopsle, “ not drunk. His em ployer would see t o t hat , sir. His em ployer would not allow him t o be drunk.” “ You know his em ployer?” said I . Mr. Wopsle shut his eyes, and opened t hem again; perform ing bot h cerem onies very slowly. “ You m ust have observed, gent lem en,” said he, “ an ignorant and a blat ant ass, wit h a rasping t hroat and a count enance expressive of low m alignit y, who went t hrough—I will not say sust ained— 363
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he role ( if I m ay use a French expression) of Claudius King of Denm ark. That is his em ployer, gent lem en. Such is t he profession! ” Wit hout dist inct ly knowing whet her I should have been m ore sorry for Mr. Wopsle if he had been in despair, I was so sorry for him as it was, t hat I t ook t he opport unit y of his t urning round t o have his braces put on—which j ost led us out at t he doorway—t o ask Herbert what he t hought of having him hom e t o supper? Herbert said he t hought it would be kind t o do so; t herefore I invit ed him , and he went t o Barnard's wit h us, wrapped up t o t he eyes, and we did our best for him , and he sat unt il t wo o'clock in t he m orning, reviewing his success and developing his plans. I forget in det ail what t hey were, but I have a general recollect ion t hat he was t o begin wit h reviving t he Dram a, and t o end wit h crushing it ; inasm uch as his decease would leave it ut t erly bereft and wit hout a chance or hope. Miserably I went t o bed aft er all, and m iserably t hought of Est ella, and m iserably dream ed t hat m y expect at ions were all cancelled, and t hat I had t o give m y hand in m arriage t o Herbert 's Clara, or play Ham let t o Miss Havisham 's Ghost , before t went y t housand people, wit hout knowing t went y words of it .
364
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 32 One day when I was busy wit h m y books and Mr. Pocket , I received a not e by t he post , t he m ere out side of which t hrew m e int o a great flut t er; for, t hough I had never seen t he handwrit ing in which it was addressed, I divined whose hand it was. I t had no set beginning, as Dear Mr. Pip, or Dear Pip, or Dear Sir, or Dear Anyt hing, but ran t hus: “ I am t o com e t o London t he day aft er t o- m orrow by t he m id- day coach. I believe it was set t led you should m eet m e? At all event s Miss Havisham has t hat im pression, and I writ e in obedience t o it . She sends you her regard. Yours, ESTELLA.” I f t here had been t im e, I should probably have ordered several suit s of clot hes for t his occasion; but as t here was not , I was fain t o be cont ent wit h t hose I had. My appet it e vanished inst ant ly, and I knew no peace or rest unt il t he day arrived. Not t hat it s arrival brought m e eit her; for, t hen I was worse t han ever, and began haunt ing t he coach- office in wood- st reet , Cheapside, before t he coach had left t he Blue Boar in our t own. For all t hat I knew t his perfect ly well, I st ill felt as if it were not safe t o let t he coach- office be out of m y sight longer t han five m inut es at a t im e; and in t his condit ion of unreason I had perform ed t he first half- hour of a wat ch of four or five hours, when Wem m ick ran against m e. “ Halloa, Mr. Pip,” said he; “ how do you do? I should hardly have t hought t his was your beat .” 365
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I explained t hat I was wait ing t o m eet som ebody who was com ing up by coach, and I inquired aft er t he Cast le and t he Aged. “ Bot h flourishing t hankye,” said Wem m ick, “ and part icularly t he Aged. He's in wonderful feat her. He'll be eight y- t wo next birt hday. I have a not ion of firing eight y- t wo t im es, if t he neighbourhood shouldn't com plain, and t hat cannon of m ine should prove equal t o t he pressure. However, t his is not London t alk. where do you t hink I am going t o?” “ To t he office?” said I , for he was t ending in t hat direct ion. “ Next t hing t o it ,” ret urned Wem m ick, “ I am going t o Newgat e. We are in a banker's- parcel case j ust at present , and I have been down t he road t aking as squint at t he scene of act ion, and t hereupon m ust have a word or t wo wit h our client .” “ Did your client com m it t he robbery?” I asked. “ Bless your soul and body, no,” answered Wem m ick, very drily. “ But he is accused of it . So m ight you or I be. Eit her of us m ight be accused of it , you know.” “ Only neit her of us is,” I rem arked. “ Yah! ” said Wem m ick, t ouching m e on t he breast wit h his forefinger; “ you're a deep one, Mr. Pip! Would you like t o have a look at Newgat e? Have you t im e t o spare?” I had so m uch t im e t o spare, t hat t he proposal cam e as a relief, not wit hst anding it s irreconcilabilit y wit h m y lat ent desire t o keep m y eye on t he coach- office. Mut t ering t hat I would m ake t he inquiry whet her I had t im e t o walk wit h him , I went int o t he office, and ascert ained from t he clerk wit h t he nicest precision and m uch t o t he t rying of his t em per, t he 366
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
earliest m om ent at which t he coach could be expect ed—which I knew beforehand, quit e as well as he. I t hen rej oined Mr. Wem m ick, and affect ing t o consult m y wat ch and t o be surprised by t he inform at ion I had received, accept ed his offer. We were at Newgat e in a few m inut es, and we passed t hrough t he lodge where som e fet t ers were hanging up on t he bare walls am ong t he prison rules, int o t he int erior of t he j ail. At t hat t im e, j ails were m uch neglect ed, and t he period of exaggerat ed react ion consequent on all public wrong- doing— and which is always it s heaviest and longest punishm ent — was st ill far off. So, felons were not lodged and fed bet t er t han soldiers ( t o say not hing of paupers) , and seldom set fire t o t heir prisons wit h t he excusable obj ect of im proving t he flavour of t heir soup. I t was visit ing t im e when Wem m ick t ook m e in; and a pot m an was going his rounds wit h beer; and t he prisoners, behind bars in yards, were buying beer, and t alking t o friends; and a frouzy, ugly, disorderly, depressing scene it was. I t st ruck m e t hat Wem m ick walked am ong t he prisoners, m uch as a gardener m ight walk am ong his plant s. This was first put int o m y head by his seeing a shoot t hat had com e up in t he night , and saying, “ What , Capt ain Tom ? Are you t here? Ah, indeed! ” and also, “ I s t hat Black Bill behind t he cist ern? Why I didn't look for you t hese t wo m ont hs; how do you find yourself?” Equally in his st opping at t he bars and at t ending t o anxious whisperers—always singly—Wem m ick wit h his post office in an im m ovable st at e, looked at t hem while in conference, as if he were t aking part icular not ice of t he 367
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
advance t hey had m ade, since last observed, t owards com ing out in full blow at t heir t rial. He was highly popular, and I found t hat he t ook t he fam iliar depart m ent of Mr. Jaggers's business: t hough som et hing of t he st at e of Mr. Jaggers hung about him t oo, forbidding approach beyond cert ain lim it s. His personal recognit ion of each successive client was com prised in a nod, and in his set t ling his hat a lit t le easier on his head wit h bot h hands, and t hen t ight ening t he post office, and put t ing his hands in his pocket s. I n one or t wo inst ances, t here was a difficult y respect ing t he raising of fees, and t hen Mr. Wem m ick, backing as far as possible from t he insufficient m oney produced, said, “ it 's no use, m y boy. I 'm only a subordinat e. I can't t ake it . Don't go on in t hat way wit h a subordinat e. I f you are unable t o m ake up your quant um , m y boy, you had bet t er address yourself t o a principal; t here are plent y of principals in t he profession, you know, and what is not wort h t he while of one, m ay be wort h t he while of anot her; t hat 's m y recom m endat ion t o you, speaking as a subordinat e. Don't t ry on useless m easures. Why should you? Now, who's next ?” Thus, we walked t hrough Wem m ick's greenhouse, unt il he t urned t o m e and said, “ Not ice t he m an I shall shake hands wit h.” I should have done so, wit hout t he preparat ion, as he had shaken hands wit h no one yet . Alm ost as soon as he had spoken, a port ly upright m an ( whom I can see now, as I writ e) in a well- worn olivecoloured frock- coat , wit h a peculiar pallor over- spreading t he red in his com plexion, and eyes t hat went wandering about 368
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
when he t ried t o fix t hem , cam e up t o a corner of t he bars, and put his hand t o his hat —which had a greasy and fat t y surface like cold brot h—wit h a half- serious and half- j ocose m ilit ary salut e. “ Colonel, t o you! ” said Wem m ick; “ how are you, Colonel?” “ All right , Mr. Wem m ick.” “ Everyt hing was done t hat could be done, but t he evidence was t oo st rong for us, Colonel.” “ Yes, it was t oo st rong, sir—but I don't care.” “ No, no,” said Wem m ick, coolly, “ you don't care.” Then, t urning t o m e, “ Served His Maj est y t his m an. Was a soldier in t he line and bought his discharge.” I said, “ I ndeed?” and t he m an's eyes looked at m e, and t hen looked over m y head, and t hen looked all round m e, and t hen he drew his hand across his lips and laughed. “ I t hink I shall be out of t his on Monday, sir,” he said t o Wem m ick. “ Perhaps,” ret urned m y friend, “ but t here's no knowing.” “ I am glad t o have t he chance of bidding you good- bye, Mr. Wem m ick,” said t he m an, st ret ching out his hand bet ween t wo bars. “ Thankye,” said Wem m ick, shaking hands wit h him . “ Sam e t o you, Colonel.” “ I f what I had upon m e when t aken, had been real, Mr. Wem m ick,” said t he m an, unwilling t o let his hand go, “ I should have asked t he favour of your wearing anot her ring— in acknowledgm ent of your at t ent ions.” “ I 'll accept t he will for t he deed,” said Wem m ick. “ By- t hebye; you were quit e a pigeon- fancier.” The m an looked up at 369
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he sky. “ I am t old you had a rem arkable breed of t um blers. could you com m ission any friend of yours t o bring m e a pair, of you've no furt her use for ‘em ?” “ I t shall be done, sir?” “ All right ,” said Wem m ick, “ t hey shall be t aken care of. Good aft ernoon, Colonel. Good- bye! ” They shook hands again, and as we walked away Wem m ick said t o m e, “ A Coiner, a very good workm an. The Recorder's report is m ade t o- day, and he is sure t o be execut ed on Monday. St ill you see, as far as it goes, a pair of pigeons are port able propert y, all t he sam e.” Wit h t hat , he looked back, and nodded at t his dead plant , and t hen cast his eyes about him in walking out of t he yard, as if he were considering what ot her pot would go best in it s place. As we cam e out of t he prison t hrough t he lodge, I found t hat t he great im port ance of m y guardian was appreciat ed by t he t urnkeys, no less t han by t hose whom t hey held in charge. “ Well, Mr. Wem m ick,” said t he t urnkey, who kept us bet ween t he t wo st udded and spiked lodge gat es, and who carefully locked one before he unlocked t he ot her, “ what 's Mr. Jaggers going t o do wit h t hat wat erside m urder? I s he going t o m ake it m anslaught er, or what 's he going t o m ake of it ?” “ Why don't you ask him ?” ret urned Wem m ick. “ Oh yes, I dare say! ” said t he t urnkey. “ Now, t hat 's t he way wit h t hem here. Mr. Pip,” rem arked Wem m ick, t urning t o m e wit h his post - office elongat ed. “ They don't m ind what t hey ask of m e, t he subordinat e; but you'll never cat ch ‘em asking any quest ions of m y principal.” 370
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I s t his young gent lem an one of t he ‘prent ices or art icled ones of your office?” asked t he t urnkey, wit h a grin at Mr. Wem m ick's hum our. “ There he goes again, you see! ” cried Wem m ick, “ I t old you so! Asks anot her quest ion of t he subordinat e before his first is dry! Well, supposing Mr. Pip is one of t hem ?” “ Why t hen,” said t he t urnkey, grinning again, “ he knows what Mr. Jaggers is.” “ Yah! ” cried Wem m ick, suddenly hit t ing out at t he t urnkey in a facet ious way, “ you're dum b as one of your own keys when you have t o do wit h m y principal, you know you are. Let us out , you old fox, or I 'll get him t o bring an act ion against you for false im prisonm ent .” The t urnkey laughed, and gave us good day, and st ood laughing at us over t he spikes of t he wicket when we descended t he st eps int o t he st reet . “ Mind you, Mr. Pip,” said Wem m ick, gravely in m y ear, as he t ook m y arm t o be m ore confident ial; “ I don't know t hat Mr. Jaggers does a bet t er t hing t han t he way in which he keeps him self so high. He's always so high. His const ant height is of a piece wit h his im m ense abilit ies. That Colonel durst no m ore t ake leave of him , t han t hat t urnkey durst ask him his int ent ions respect ing a case. Then, bet ween his height and t hem , he slips in his subordinat e—don't you see?— and so he has ‘em , soul and body.” I was very m uch im pressed, and not for t he first t im e, by m y guardian's subt let y. To confess t he t rut h, I very heart ily wished, and not for t he first t im e, t hat I had had som e ot her guardian of m inor abilit ies. 371
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Mr. Wem m ick and I part ed at t he office in Lit t le Brit ain, where suppliant s for Mr. Jaggers's not ice were lingering about as usual, and I ret urned t o m y wat ch in t he st reet of t he coach- office, wit h som e t hree hours on hand. I consum ed t he whole t im e in t hinking how st range it was t hat I should be encom passed by all t his t aint of prison and crim e; t hat , in m y childhood out on our lonely m arshes on a wint er evening I should have first encount ered it ; t hat , it should have reappeared on t wo occasions, st art ing out like a st ain t hat was faded but not gone; t hat , it should in t his new way pervade m y fort une and advancem ent . While m y m ind was t hus engaged, I t hought of t he beaut iful young Est ella, proud and refined, com ing t owards m e, and I t hought wit h absolut e abhorrence of t he cont rast bet ween t he j ail and her. I wished t hat Wem m ick had not m et m e, or t hat I had not yielded t o him and gone wit h him , so t hat , of all days in t he year on t his day, I m ight not have had Newgat e in m y breat h and on m y clot hes. I beat t he prison dust off m y feet as I saunt ered t o and fro, and I shook it out of m y dress, and I exhaled it s air from m y lungs. So cont am inat ed did I feel, rem em bering who was com ing, t hat t he coach cam e quickly aft er all, and I was not yet free from t he soiling consciousness of Mr. Wem m ick's conservat ory, when I saw her face at t he coach window and her hand waving t o m e. What was t he nam eless shadow which again in t hat one inst ant had passed?
372
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 33 I n her furred t ravelling- dress, Est ella seem ed m ore delicat ely beaut iful t han she had ever seem ed yet , even in m y eyes. Her m anner was m ore winning t han she had cared t o let it be t o m e before, and I t hought I saw Miss Havisham 's influence in t he change. We st ood in t he I nn Yard while she point ed out her luggage t o m e, and when it was all collect ed I rem em bered— having forgot t en everyt hing but herself in t he m eanwhile— t hat I knew not hing of her dest inat ion “ I am going t o Richm ond,” she t old m e. “ Our lesson is, t hat t here are t wo Richm onds, one in Surrey and one in Yorkshire, and t hat m ine is t he Surrey Richm ond. The dist ance is t en m iles. I am t o have a carriage, and you are t o t ake m e. This is m y purse, and you are t o pay m y charges out of it . Oh, you m ust t ake t he purse! We have no choice, you and I , but t o obey our inst ruct ions. We are not free t o follow our own devices, you and I .” As she looked at m e in giving m e t he purse, I hoped t here was an inner m eaning in her words. She said t hem slight ingly, but not wit h displeasure. “ A carriage will have t o be sent for, Est ella. Will you rest here a lit t le?” “ Yes, I am t o rest here a lit t le, and I am t o drink som e t ea, and you are t o t ake care of m e t he while.” She drew her arm t hrough m ine, as if it m ust be done, and I request ed a wait er who had been st aring at t he coach like a 373
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m an who had never seen such a t hing in his life, t o show us a privat e sit t ing- room . Upon t hat , he pulled out a napkin, as if it were a m agic clue wit hout which he couldn't find t he way up- st airs, and led us t o t he black hole of t he est ablishm ent : fit t ed up wit h a dim inishing m irror ( quit e a superfluous art icle considering t he hole's proport ions) , an anchovy sauce- cruet , and som ebody's pat t ens. On m y obj ect ing t o t his ret reat , he t ook us int o anot her room wit h a dinner- t able for t hirt y, and in t he grat e a scorched leaf of a copy- book under a bushel of coal- dust . Having looked at t his ext inct conflagrat ion and shaken his head, he t ook m y order: which, proving t o be m erely “ Som e t ea for t he lady,” sent him out of t he room in a very low st at e of m ind. I was, and I am , sensible t hat t he air of t his cham ber, in it s st rong com binat ion of st able wit h soup- st ock, m ight have led one t o infer t hat t he coaching depart m ent was not doing well, and t hat t he ent erprising propriet or was boiling down t he horses for t he refreshm ent depart m ent . Yet t he room was all in all t o m e, Est ella being in it . I t hought t hat wit h her I could have been happy t here for life. ( I was not at all happy t here at t he t im e, observe, and I knew it well.) “ Where are you going t o, at Richm ond?” I asked Est ella. “ I am going t o live,” said she, “ at a great expense, wit h a lady t here, who has t he power—or says she has—of t aking m e about , and int roducing m e, and showing people t o m e and showing m e t o people.” “ I suppose you will be glad of variet y and adm irat ion?” “ Yes, I suppose so.” 374
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
She answered so carelessly, t hat I said, “ You speak of yourself as if you were som e one else.” “ Where did you learn how I speak of ot hers? Com e, com e,” said Est ella, sm iling delight fully, “ you m ust not expect m e t o go t o school t o you; I m ust t alk in m y own way. How do you t hrive wit h Mr. Pocket ?” “ I live quit e pleasant ly t here; at least —” I t appeared t o m e t hat I was losing a chance. “ At least ?” repeat ed Est ella. “ As pleasant ly as I could anywhere, away from you.” “ You silly boy,” said Est ella, quit e com posedly, “ how can you t alk such nonsense? Your friend Mr. Mat t hew, I believe, is superior t o t he rest of his fam ily?” “ Very superior indeed. He is nobody's enem y—” “ Don't add but his own,” int erposed Est ella, “ for I hat e t hat class of m an. But he really is disint erest ed, and above sm all j ealousy and spit e, I have heard?” “ I am sure I have every reason t o say so.” “ You have not every reason t o say so of t he rest of his people,” said Est ella, nodding at m e wit h an expression of face t hat was at once grave and rallying, “ for t hey beset Miss Havisham wit h report s and insinuat ions t o your disadvant age. They wat ch you, m isrepresent you, writ e let t ers about you ( anonym ous som et im es) , and you are t he t orm ent and t he occupat ion of t heir lives. You can scarcely realize t o yourself t he hat red t hose people feel for you.” “ They do m e no harm , I hope?” I nst ead of answering, Est ella burst out laughing. This was very singular t o m e, and I looked at her in considerable 375
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
perplexit y. When she left off—and she had not laughed languidly, but wit h real enj oym ent —I said, in m y diffident way wit h her: “ I hope I m ay suppose t hat you would not be am used if t hey did m e any harm .” “ No, no you m ay be sure of t hat ,” said Est ella. “ You m ay be cert ain t hat I laugh because t hey fail. Oh, t hose people wit h Miss Havisham , and t he t ort ures t hey undergo! ” She laughed again, and even now when she had t old m e why, her laught er was very singular t o m e, for I could not doubt it s being genuine, and yet it seem ed t oo m uch for t he occasion. I t hought t here m ust really be som et hing m ore here t han I knew; she saw t he t hought in m y m ind, and answered it . “ I t is not easy for even you.” said Est ella, “ t o know what sat isfact ion it gives m e t o see t hose people t hwart ed, or what an enj oyable sense of t he ridiculous I have when t hey are m ade ridiculous. For you were not brought up in t hat st range house from a m ere baby.—I was. You had not your lit t le wit s sharpened by t heir int riguing against you, suppressed and defenceless, under t he m ask of sym pat hy and pit y and what not t hat is soft and soot hing.—I had. You did not gradually open your round childish eyes wider and wider t o t he discovery of t hat im post or of a wom an who calculat es her st ores of peace of m ind for when she wakes up in t he night .— I did.” I t was no laughing m at t er wit h Est ella now, nor was she sum m oning t hese rem em brances from any shallow place. I would not have been t he cause of t hat look of hers, for all m y expect at ions in a heap. 376
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Two t hings I can t ell you,” said Est ella. “ First , not wit hst anding t he proverb t hat const ant dropping will wear away a st one, you m ay set your m ind at rest t hat t hese people never will—never would, in hundred years—im pair your ground wit h Miss Havisham , in any part icular, great or sm all. Second, I am beholden t o you as t he cause of t heir being so busy and so m ean in vain, and t here is m y hand upon it .” As she gave it m e playfully—for her darker m ood had been but m om ent ary—I held it and put it t o m y lips. “ You ridiculous boy,” said Est ella, “ will you never t ake warning? Or do you kiss m y hand in t he sam e spirit in which I once let you kiss m y cheek?” “ What spirit was t hat ?” said I . “ I m ust t hink a m om ent A spirit of cont em pt for t he fawners and plot t ers.” “ I f I say yes, m ay I kiss t he cheek again?” “ You should have asked before you t ouched t he hand. But , yes, if you like.” I leaned down, and her calm face was like a st at ue's. “ Now,” said Est ella, gliding away t he inst ant I t ouched her cheek, “ you are t o t ake care t hat I have som e t ea, and you are t o t ake m e t o Richm ond.” Her revert ing t o t his t one as if our associat ion were forced upon us and we were m ere puppet s, gave m e pain; but everyt hing in our int ercourse did give m e pain. What ever her t one wit h m e happened t o be, I could put no t rust in it , and build no hope on it ; and yet I went on against t rust and 377
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
against hope. Why repeat it a t housand t im es? So it always was. I rang for t he t ea, and t he wait er, reappearing wit h his m agic clue, brought in by degrees som e fift y adj unct s t o t hat refreshm ent but of t ea not a glim pse. A t eaboard, cups and saucers, plat es, knives and forks ( including carvers) , spoons ( various) , salt cellars, a m eek lit t le m uffin confined wit h t he ut m ost precaut ion under a st rong iron cover, Moses in t he bullrushes t ypified by a soft bit of but t er in a quant it y of parsley, a pale loaf wit h a powdered head, t wo proof im pressions of t he bars of t he kit chen fire- place on t riangular bit s of bread, and ult im at ely a fat fam ily urn: which t he wait er st aggered in wit h, expressing in his count enance burden and suffering. Aft er a prolonged absence at t his st age of t he ent ert ainm ent , he at lengt h cam e back wit h a casket of precious appearance cont aining t wigs. These I st eeped in hot wat er, and so from t he whole of t hese appliances ext ract ed one cup of I don't know what , for Est ella. The bill paid, and t he wait er rem em bered, and t he ost ler not forgot t en, and t he cham berm aid t aken int o considerat ion—in a word, t he whole house bribed int o a st at e of cont em pt and anim osit y, and Est ella's purse m uch light ened—we got int o our post - coach and drove away. Turning int o Cheapside and rat t ling up Newgat e- st reet , we were soon under t he walls of which I was so asham ed. “ What place is t hat ?” Est ella asked m e. I m ade a foolish pret ence of not at first recognizing it , and t hen t old her. As she looked at it , and drew in her head again, 378
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m urm uring “ Wret ches! ” I would not have confessed t o m y visit for any considerat ion. “ Mr. Jaggers,” said I , by way of put t ing it neat ly on som ebody else, “ has t he reput at ion of being m ore in t he secret s of t hat dism al place t han any m an in London.” “ He is m ore in t he secret s of every place, I t hink,” said Est ella, in a low voice. “ You have been accust om ed t o see him oft en, I suppose?” “ I have been accust om ed t o see him at uncert ain int ervals, ever since I can rem em ber. But I know him no bet t er now, t han I did before I could speak plainly. What is your own experience of him ? Do you advance wit h him ?” “ Once habit uat ed t o his dist rust ful m anner,” said I , “ I have done very well.” “ Are you int im at e?” “ I have dined wit h him at his privat e house.” “ I fancy,” said Est ella, shrinking “ t hat m ust be a curious place.” “ I t is a curious place.” I should have been chary of discussing m y guardian t oo freely even wit h her; but I should have gone on wit h t he subj ect so far as t o describe t he dinner in Gerrard- st reet , if we had not t hen com e int o a sudden glare of gas. I t seem ed, while it last ed, t o be all alight and alive wit h t hat inexplicable feeling I had had before; and when we were out of it , I was as m uch dazed for a few m om ent s as if I had been in Light ning. So, we fell int o ot her t alk, and it was principally about t he way by which we were t ravelling, and about what part s of 379
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
London lay on t his side of it , and what on t hat . The great cit y was alm ost new t o her, she t old m e, for she had never left Miss Havisham 's neighbourhood unt il she had gone t o France, and she had m erely passed t hrough London t hen in going and ret urning. I asked her if m y guardian had any charge of her while she rem ained here? To t hat she em phat ically said “ God forbid! ” and no m ore. I t was im possible for m e t o avoid seeing t hat she cared t o at t ract m e; t hat she m ade herself winning; and would have w on m e even if t he t ask had needed pains. Yet t his m ade m e none t he happier, for, even if she had not t aken t hat t one of our being disposed of by ot hers, I should have felt t hat she held m y heart in her hand because she wilfully chose t o do it , and not because it would have wrung any t enderness in her, t o crush it and t hrow it away. When we passed t hrough Ham m ersm it h, I showed her where Mr. Mat t hew Pocket lived, and said it was no great way from Richm ond, and t hat I hoped I should see her som et im es. “ Oh yes, you are t o see m e; you are t o com e when you t hink proper; you are t o be m ent ioned t o t he fam ily; indeed you are already m ent ioned.” I inquired was it a large household she was going t o be a m em ber of? “ No; t here are only t wo; m ot her and daught er. The m ot her is a lady of som e st at ion, t hough not averse t o increasing her incom e.” “ I wonder Miss Havisham could part wit h you again so soon.” 380
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I t is a part of Miss Havisham 's plans for m e, Pip,” said Est ella, wit h a sigh, as if she were t ired; “ I am t o writ e t o her const ant ly and see her regularly and report how I go on—I and t he j ewels—for t hey are nearly all m ine now.” I t was t he first t im e she had ever called m e by m y nam e. Of course she did so, purposely, and knew t hat I should t reasure it up. We cam e t o Richm ond all t oo soon, and our dest inat ion t here, was a house by t he Green; a st aid old house, where hoops and powder and pat ches, em broidered coat s rolled st ockings ruffles and swords, had had t heir court days m any a t im e. Som e ancient t rees before t he house were st ill cut int o fashions as form al and unnat ural as t he hoops and wigs and st iff skirt s; but t heir own allot t ed places in t he great procession of t he dead were not far off, and t hey would soon drop int o t hem and go t he silent way of t he rest . A bell wit h an old voice—which I dare say in it s t im e had oft en said t o t he house, Here is t he green fart hingale, Here is t he diam ondhilt ed sword, Here are t he shoes wit h red heels and t he blue solit aire,—sounded gravely in t he m oonlight , and t wo cherrycoloured m aids cam e flut t ering out t o receive Est ella. The doorway soon absorbed her boxes, and she gave m e her hand and a sm ile, and said good night , and was absorbed likewise. And st ill I st ood looking at t he house, t hinking how happy I should be if I lived t here wit h her, and knowing t hat I never was happy wit h her, but always m iserable. I got int o t he carriage t o be t aken back t o Ham m ersm it h, and I got in wit h a bad heart - ache, and I got out wit h a worse 381
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
heart - ache. At our own door, I found lit t le Jane Pocket com ing hom e from a lit t le part y escort ed by her lit t le lover; and I envied her lit t le lover, in spit e of his being subj ect t o Flopson. Mr. Pocket was out lect uring; for, he was a m ost delight ful lect urer on dom est ic econom y, and his t reat ises on t he m anagem ent of children and servant s were considered t he very best t ext - books on t hose t hem es. But , Mrs. Pocket was at hom e, and was in a lit t le difficult y, on account of t he baby's having been accom m odat ed wit h a needle- case t o keep him quiet during t he unaccount able absence ( wit h a relat ive in t he Foot Guards) of Millers. And m ore needles were m issing, t han it could be regarded as quit e wholesom e for a pat ient of such t ender years eit her t o apply ext ernally or t o t ake as a t onic. Mr. Pocket being j ust ly celebrat ed for giving m ost excellent pract ical advice, and for having a clear and sound percept ion of t hings and a highly j udicious m ind, I had som e not ion in m y heart ache of begging him t o accept m y confidence. But , happening t o look up at Mrs. Pocket as she sat reading her book of dignit ies aft er prescribing Bed as a sovereign rem edy for baby, I t hought —Well—No, I wouldn't .
382
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 34 As I had grown accust om ed t o m y expect at ions, I had insensibly begun t o not ice t heir effect upon m yself and t hose around m e. Their influence on m y own charact er, I disguised from m y recognit ion as m uch as possible, but I knew very well t hat it was not all good. I lived in a st at e of chronic uneasiness respect ing m y behaviour t o Joe. My conscience was not by any m eans com fort able about Biddy. When I woke up in t he night —like Cam illa—I used t o t hink, wit h a weariness on m y spirit s, t hat I should have been happier and bet t er if I had never seen Miss Havisham 's face, and had risen t o m anhood cont ent t o be part ners wit h Joe in t he honest old forge. Many a t im e of an evening, when I sat alone looking at t he fire, I t hought , aft er all, t here was no fire like t he forge fire and t he kit chen fire at hom e. Yet Est ella was so inseparable from all m y rest lessness and disquiet of m ind, t hat I really fell int o confusion as t o t he lim it s of m y own part in it s product ion. That is t o say, supposing I had had no expect at ions, and yet had had Est ella t o t hink of, I could not m ake out t o m y sat isfact ion t hat I should have done m uch bet t er. Now, concerning t he influence of m y posit ion on ot hers, I was in no such difficult y, and so I perceived—t hough dim ly enough perhaps—t hat it was not beneficial t o anybody, and, above all, t hat it was not beneficial t o Herbert . My lavish habit s led his easy nat ure int o expenses t hat he could not afford, corrupt ed t he sim plicit y of his life, and dist urbed his peace wit h anxiet ies and regret s. I 383
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was not at all rem orseful for having unwit t ingly set t hose ot her branches of t he Pocket fam ily t o t he poor art s t hey pract ised: because such lit t lenesses were t heir nat ural bent , and would have been evoked by anybody else, if I had left t hem slum bering. But Herbert 's was a very different case, and it oft en caused m e a t winge t o t hink t hat I had done him evil service in crowding his sparely- furnished cham bers wit h incongruous upholst ery work, and placing t he canarybreast ed Avenger at his disposal. So now, as an infallible way of m aking lit t le ease great ease, I began t o cont ract a quant it y of debt . I could hardly begin but Herbert m ust begin t oo, so he soon followed. At St art op's suggest ion, we put ourselves down for elect ion int o a club called The Finches of t he Grove: t he obj ect of which inst it ut ion I have never divined, if it were not t hat t he m em bers should dine expensively once a fort night , t o quarrel am ong t hem selves as m uch as possible aft er dinner, and t o cause six wait ers t o get drunk on t he st airs. I Know t hat t hese grat ifying social ends were so invariably accom plished, t hat Herbert and I underst ood not hing else t o be referred t o in t he first st anding t oast of t he societ y: which ran “ Gent lem en, m ay t he present prom ot ion of good feeling ever reign predom inant am ong t he Finches of t he Grove.” The Finches spent t heir m oney foolishly ( t he Hot el we dined at was in Covent - garden) , and t he first Finch I saw, when I had t he honour of j oining t he Grove, was Bent ley Drum m le: at t hat t im e floundering about t own in a cab of his own, and doing a great deal of dam age t o t he post s at t he st reet corners. Occasionally, he shot him self out of his 384
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
equipage head- forem ost over t he apron; and I saw him on one occasion deliver him self at t he door of t he Grove in t his unint ent ional way—like coals. But here I ant icipat e a lit t le for I was not a Finch, and could not be, according t o t he sacred laws of t he societ y, unt il I cam e of age. I n m y confidence in m y own resources, I would willingly have t aken Herbert 's expenses on m yself; but Herbert was proud, and I could m ake no such proposal t o him . So, he got int o difficult ies in every direct ion, and cont inued t o look about him . When we gradually fell int o keeping lat e hours and lat e com pany, I not iced t hat he looked about him wit h a desponding eye at breakfast - t im e; t hat he began t o look about him m ore hopefully about m id- day; t hat he drooped when he cam e int o dinner; t hat he seem ed t o descry Capit al in t he dist ance rat her clearly, aft er dinner; t hat he all but realized Capit al t owards m idnight ; and t hat at about t wo o'clock in t he m orning, he becam e so deeply despondent again as t o t alk of buying a rifle and going t o Am erica, wit h a general purpose of com pelling buffaloes t o m ake his fort une. I was usually at Ham m ersm it h about half t he week, and when I was at Ham m ersm it h I haunt ed Richm ond: whereof separat ely by- and- by. Herbert would oft en com e t o Ham m ersm it h when I was t here, and I t hink at t hose seasons his fat her would occasionally have som e passing percept ion t hat t he opening he was looking for, had not appeared yet . But in t he general t um bling up of t he fam ily, his t um bling out in life som ewhere, was a t hing t o t ransact it self som ehow. I n t he m eant im e Mr. Pocket grew greyer, and t ried oft ener t o lift him self out of his perplexit ies by t he hair. While Mrs. Pocket 385
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t ripped up t he fam ily wit h her foot st ool, read her book of dignit ies, lost her pocket - handkerchief, t old us about her grandpapa, and t aught t he young idea how t o shoot , by shoot ing it int o bed whenever it at t ract ed her not ice. As I am now generalizing a period of m y life wit h t he obj ect of clearing m y way before m e, I can scarcely do so bet t er t han by at once com plet ing t he descript ion of our usual m anners and cust om s at Barnard's I nn. We spent as m uch m oney as we could, and got as lit t le for it as people could m ake up t heir m inds t o give us. We were always m ore or less m iserable, and m ost of our acquaint ance were in t he sam e condit ion. There was a gay fict ion am ong us t hat we were const ant ly enj oying ourselves, and a skelet on t rut h t hat we never did. To t he best of m y belief, our case was in t he last aspect a rat her com m on one. Every m orning, wit h an air ever new, Herbert went int o t he Cit y t o look about him . I oft en paid him a visit in t he dark back- room in which he consort ed wit h an ink- j ar, a hat - peg, a coal- box, a st ring- box, an alm anack, a desk and st ool, and a ruler; and I do not rem em ber t hat I ever saw him do anyt hing else but look about him . I f we all did what we undert ake t o do, as fait hfully as Herbert did, we m ight live in a Republic of t he Virt ues. He had not hing else t o do, poor fellow, except at a cert ain hour of every aft ernoon t o “ go t o Lloyd's" —in observance of a cerem ony of seeing his principal, I t hink. He never did anyt hing else in connexion wit h Lloyd's t hat I could find out , except com e back again. When he felt his case unusually serious, and t hat he posit ively m ust find an opening, he would go on ‘Change at a busy t im e, and walk in 386
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and out , in a kind of gloom y count ry dance figure, am ong t he assem bled m agnat es. “ For,” says Herbert t o m e, com ing hom e t o dinner on one of t hose special occasions, “ I find t he t rut h t o be, Handel, t hat an opening won't com e t o one, but one m ust go t o it —so I have been.” I f we had been less at t ached t o one anot her, I t hink we m ust have hat ed one anot her regularly every m orning. I det est ed t he cham bers beyond expression at t hat period of repent ance, and could not endure t he sight of t he Avenger's livery: which had a m ore expensive and a less rem unerat ive appearance t hen, t han at any ot her t im e in t he four- andt went y hours. As we got m ore and m ore int o debt breakfast becam e a hollower and hollower form , and, being on one occasion at breakfast - t im e t hreat ened ( by let t er) wit h legal proceedings, “ not unwholly unconnect ed,” as m y local paper m ight put it , “ wit h j ewellery,” I went so far as t o seize t he Avenger by his blue collar and shake him off his feet —so t hat he was act ually in t he air, like a boot ed Cupid—for presum ing t o suppose t hat we want ed a roll. At cert ain t im es—m eaning at uncert ain t im es, for t hey depended on our hum our—I would say t o Herbert , as if it were a rem arkable discovery: “ My dear Herbert , we are get t ing on badly.” “ My dear Handel,” Herbert would say t o m e, in all sincerit y, if you will believe m e, t hose very words were on m y lips, by a st range coincidence.” “ Then, Herbert ,” I would respond, “ let us look int o out affairs.” 387
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
We always derived profound sat isfact ion from m aking an appoint m ent for t his purpose. I always t hought t his was business, t his was t he way t o confront t he t hing, t his was t he way t o t ake t he foe by t he t hroat . And I know Herbert t hought so t oo. We ordered som et hing rat her special for dinner, wit h a bot t le of som et hing sim ilarly out of t he com m on way, in order t hat our m inds m ight be fort ified for t he occasion, and we m ight com e well up t o t he m ark. Dinner over, we produced a bundle of pens, a copious supply of ink, and a goodly show of writ ing and blot t ing paper. For, t here was som et hing very com fort able in having plent y of st at ionery. I would t hen t ake a sheet of paper, and writ e across t he t op of it , in a neat hand, t he heading, “ Mem orandum of Pip's debt s; ” wit h Barnard's I nn and t he dat e very carefully added. Herbert would also t ake a sheet of paper, and writ e across it wit h sim ilar form alit ies, “ Mem orandum of Herbert 's debt s.” Each of us would t hen refer t o a confused heap of papers at his side, which had been t hrown int o drawers, worn int o holes in Pocket s, half- burnt in light ing candles, st uck for weeks int o t he looking- glass, and ot herwise dam aged. The sound of our pens going, refreshed us exceedingly, insom uch t hat I som et im es found it difficult t o dist inguish bet ween t his edifying business proceeding and act ually paying t he m oney. I n point of m erit orious charact er, t he t wo t hings seem ed about equal. When we had writ t en a lit t le while, I would ask Herbert how he got on? Herbert probably would have been scrat ching 388
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
his head in a m ost rueful m anner at t he sight of his accum ulat ing figures. “ They are m ount ing up, Handel,” Herbert would say; “ upon m y life, t hey are m ount ing up.” “ Be firm , Herbert ,” I would ret ort , plying m y own pen wit h great assiduit y. “ Look t he t hing in t he face. Look int o your affairs. St are t hem out of count enance.” “ So I would, Handel, only t hey are st aring m e out of count enance.” However, m y det erm ined m anner would have it s effect , and Herbert would fall t o work again. Aft er a t im e he would give up once m ore, on t he plea t hat he had not got Cobbs's bill, or Lobbs's, or Nobbs's, as t he case m ight be. “ Then, Herbert , est im at e; est im at e it in round num bers, and put it down.” “ What a fellow of resource you are! ” m y friend would reply, wit h adm irat ion. “ Really your business powers are very rem arkable.” I t hought so t oo. I est ablished wit h m yself on t hese occasions, t he reput at ion of a first - rat e m an of business— prom pt , decisive, energet ic, clear, cool- headed. When I had got all m y responsibilit ies down upon m y list , I com pared each wit h t he bill, and t icked it off. My self- approval when I t icked an ent ry was quit e a luxurious sensat ion. When I had no m ore t icks t o m ake, I folded all m y bills up uniform ly, docket ed each on t he back, and t ied t he whole int o a sym m et rical bundle. Then I did t he sam e for Herbert ( who m odest ly said he had not m y adm inist rat ive genius) , and felt t hat I had brought his affairs int o a focus for him . 389
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
My business habit s had one ot her bright feat ure, which i called “ leaving a Margin.” For exam ple; supposing Herbert 's debt s t o be one hundred and sixt y- four pounds four- andt wopence, I would say, “ Leave a m argin, and put t hem down at t wo hundred.” Or, supposing m y own t o be four t im es as m uch, I would leave a m argin, and put t hem down at seven hundred. I had t he highest opinion of t he wisdom of t his sam e Margin, but I am bound t o acknowledge t hat on looking back, I deem it t o have been an expensive device. For, we always ran int o new debt im m ediat ely, t o t he full ext ent of t he m argin, and som et im es, in t he sense of freedom and solvency it im part ed, got pret t y far on int o anot her m argin. But t here was a calm , a rest , a virt uous hush, consequent on t hese exam inat ions of our affairs t hat gave m e, for t he t im e, an adm irable opinion of m yself. Soot hed by m y exert ions, m y m et hod, and Herbert 's com plim ent s, I would sit wit h his sym m et rical bundle and m y own on t he t able before m e am ong t he st at ionary, and feel like a Bank of som e sort , rat her t han a privat e individual. We shut our out er door on t hese solem n occasions, in order t hat we m ight not be int errupt ed. I had fallen int o m y serene st at e one evening, when we heard a let t er dropped t hrough t he slit in t he said door, and fall on t he ground. “ I t 's for you, Handel,” said Herbert , going out and com ing back wit h it , “ and I hope t here is not hing t he m at t er.” This was in allusion t o it s heavy black seal and border. The let t er was signed TRABB & CO., and it s cont ent s were sim ply, t hat I was an honoured sir, and t hat t hey begged t o inform m e t hat Mrs. J. Gargery had depart ed t his life on 390
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Monday last , at t went y m inut es past six in t he evening, and t hat m y at t endance was request ed at t he int erm ent on Monday next at t hree o'clock in t he aft ernoon.
391
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 35 I t was t he first t im e t hat a grave had opened in m y road of life, and t he gap it m ade in t he sm oot h ground was wonderful. The figure of m y sist er in her chair by t he kit chen fire, haunt ed m e night and day. That t he place could possibly be, wit hout her, was som et hing m y m ind seem ed unable t o com pass; and whereas she had seldom or never been in m y t hought s of lat e, I had now t he st rangest ideas t hat she was com ing t owards m e in t he st reet , or t hat she would present ly knock at t he door. I n m y room s t oo, wit h which she had never been at all associat ed, t here was at once t he blankness of deat h and a perpet ual suggest ion of t he sound of her voice or t he t urn of her face or figure, as if she were st ill alive and had been oft en t here. What ever m y fort unes m ight have been, I could scarcely have recalled m y sist er wit h m uch t enderness. But I suppose t here is a shock of regret which m ay exist wit hout m uch t enderness. Under it s influence ( and perhaps t o m ake up for t he want of t he soft er feeling) I was seized wit h a violent indignat ion against t he assailant from whom she had suffered so m uch; and I felt t hat on sufficient proof I could have revengefully pursued Orlick, or any one else, t o t he last ext rem it y. Having writ t en t o Joe, t o offer consolat ion, and t o assure him t hat I should com e t o t he funeral, I passed t he int erm ediat e days in t he curious st at e of m ind I have glanced 392
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
at . I went down early in t he m orning, and alight ed at t he Blue Boar in good t im e t o walk over t o t he forge. I t was fine sum m er weat her again, and, as I walked along, t he t im es when I was a lit t le helpless creat ure, and m y sist er did not spare m e, vividly ret urned. But t hey ret urned wit h a gent le t one upon t hem t hat soft ened even t he edge of Tickler. For now, t he very breat h of t he beans and clover whispered t o m y heart t hat t he day m ust com e when it would be well for m y m em ory t hat ot hers walking in t he sunshine should be soft ened as t hey t hought of m e. At last I cam e wit hin sight of t he house, and saw t hat Trabb and Co. had put in a funereal execut ion and t aken possession. Two dism ally absurd persons, each ost ent at iously exhibit ing a crut ch done up in a black bandage—as if t hat inst rum ent could possibly com m unicat e any com fort t o anybody—were post ed at t he front door; and in one of t hem I recognized a post boy discharged from t he Boar for t urning a young couple int o a sawpit on t heir bridal m orning, in consequence of int oxicat ion rendering it necessary for him t o ride his horse clasped round t he neck wit h bot h arm s. All t he children of t he village, and m ost of t he wom en, were adm iring t hese sable warders and t he closed windows of t he house and forge; and as I cam e up, one of t he t wo warders ( t he post boy) knocked at t he door—im plying t hat I was far t oo m uch exhaust ed by grief, t o have st rengt h rem aining t o knock for m yself. Anot her sable warder ( a carpent er, who had once eat en t wo geese for a wager) opened t he door, and showed m e int o t he best parlour. Here, Mr. Trabb had t aken unt o him self t he 393
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
best t able, and had got all t he leaves up, and was holding a kind of black Bazaar, wit h t he aid of a quant it y of black pins. At t he m om ent of m y arrival, he had j ust finished put t ing som ebody's hat int o black long- clot hes, like an African baby; so he held out his hand for m ine. But I , m isled by t he act ion, and confused by t he occasion, shook hands wit h him wit h every t est im ony of warm affect ion. Poor dear Joe, ent angled in a lit t le black cloak t ied in a large bow under his chin, was seat ed apart at t he upper end of t he room ; where, as chief m ourner, he had evident ly been st at ioned by Trabb. When I bent down and said t o him , “ Dear Joe, how are you?” he said, “ Pip, old chap, you knowed her when she were a fine figure of a—” and clasped m y hand and said no m ore. Biddy, looking very neat and m odest in her black dress, went quiet ly here and t here, and was very helpful. When I had spoken t o Biddy, as I t hought it not a t im e for t alking I went and sat down near Joe, and t here began t o wonder in what part of t he house it —she—m y sist er—was. The air of t he parlour being faint wit h t he sm ell of sweet cake, I looked about for t he t able of refreshm ent s; it was scarcely visible unt il one had got accust om ed t o t he gloom , but t here was a cut - up plum - cake upon it , and t here were cut - up oranges, and sandwiches, and biscuit s, and t wo decant ers t hat I knew very well as ornam ent s, but had never seen used in all m y life; one full of port , and one of sherry. St anding at t his t able, I becam e conscious of t he servile Pum blechook in a black cloak and several yards of hat band, who was alt ernat ely st uffing him self, and m aking obsequious m ovem ent s t o cat ch 394
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m y at t ent ion. The m om ent he succeeded, he cam e over t o m e ( breat hing sherry and crum bs) , and said in a subdued voice, “ May I , dear sir?” and did. I t hen descried Mr. and Mrs. Hubble; t he last - nam ed in a decent speechless paroxysm in a corner. We were all going t o “ follow,” and were all in course of being t ied up separat ely ( by Trabb) int o ridiculous bundles. “ Which I m eant ersay, Pip,” Joe whispered m e, as we were being what Mr. Trabb called “ form ed” in t he parlour, t wo and t wo—and it was dreadfully like a preparat ion for som e grim kind of dance; “ which I m eant ersay, sir, as I would in preference have carried her t o t he church m yself, along wit h t hree or four friendly ones wot com e t o it wit h willing hart s and arm s, but it were considered wot t he neighbours would look down on such and would be of opinions as it were want ing in respect .” “ Pocket - handkerchiefs out , all! ” cried Mr. Trabb at t his point , in a depressed business- like voice. “ Pocket handkerchiefs out ! We are ready! ” So, we all put our pocket - handkerchiefs t o our faces, as if our noses were bleeding, and filed out t wo and t wo; Joe and I ; Biddy and Pum blechook; Mr. and Mrs. Hubble. The rem ains of m y poor sist er had been brought round by t he kit chen door, and, it being a point of Undert aking cerem ony t hat t he six bearers m ust be st ifled and blinded under a horrible black velvet housing wit h a whit e border, t he whole looked like a blind m onst er wit h t welve hum an legs, shuffling and blundering along, under t he guidance of t wo keepers—t he post boy and his com rade. 395
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The neighbourhood, however, highly approved of t hese arrangem ent s, and we were m uch adm ired as we went t hrough t he village; t he m ore yout hful and vigorous part of t he com m unit y m aking dashes now and t hen t o cut us off, and lying in wait t o int ercept us at point s of vant age. At such t im es t he m ore exuberant am ong t hem called out in an excit ed m anner on our em ergence round som e corner of expect ancy, “ Here t hey com e! ” “ Here t hey are! ” and we were all but cheered. I n t his progress I was m uch annoyed by t he abj ect Pum blechook, who, being behind m e, persist ed all t he way as a delicat e at t ent ion in arranging m y st ream ing hat band, and sm oot hing m y cloak. My t hought s were furt her dist ract ed by t he excessive pride of Mr. and Mrs. Hubble, who were surpassingly conceit ed and vainglorious in being m em bers of so dist inguished a procession. And now, t he range of m arshes lay clear before us, wit h t he sails of t he ships on t he river growing out of it ; and we went int o t he churchyard, close t o t he graves of m y unknown parent s, Philip Pirrip, lat e of t his parish, and Also Georgiana, Wife of t he Above. And t here, m y sist er was laid quiet ly in t he eart h while t he larks sang high above it , and t he light wind st rewed it wit h beaut iful shadows of clouds and t rees. Of t he conduct of t he worldly- m inded Pum blechook while t his was doing, I desire t o say no m ore t han it was all addressed t o m e; and t hat even when t hose noble passages were read which rem ind hum anit y how it brought not hing int o t he world and can t ake not hing out , and how it fleet h like a shadow and never cont inuet h long in one st ay, I heard him cough a reservat ion of t he case of a young gent lem an who 396
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
cam e unexpect edly int o large propert y. When we got back, he had t he hardihood t o t ell m e t hat he wished m y sist er could have known I had done her so m uch honour, and t o hint t hat she would have considered it reasonably purchased at t he price of her deat h. Aft er t hat , he drank all t he rest of t he sherry, and Mr. Hubble drank t he port , and t he t wo t alked ( which I have since observed t o be cust om ary in such cases) as if t hey were of quit e anot her race from t he deceased, and were not oriously im m ort al. Finally, he went away wit h Mr. and Mrs. Hubble—t o m ake an evening of it , I felt sure, and t o t ell t he Jolly Bargem en t hat he was t he founder of m y fort unes and m y earliest benefact or. When t hey were all gone, and when Trabb and his m en— but not his boy: I looked for him —had cram m ed t heir m um m ery int o bags, and were gone t oo, t he house felt wholesom er. Soon aft erwards, Biddy, Joe, and I , had a cold dinner t oget her; but we dined in t he best parlour, not in t he old kit chen, and Joe was so exceedingly part icular what he did wit h his knife and fork and t he salt cellar and what not , t hat t here was great rest raint upon us. But aft er dinner, when I m ade him t ake his pipe, and when I had loit ered wit h him about t he forge, and when we sat down t oget her on t he great block of st one out side it , we got on bet t er. I not iced t hat aft er t he funeral Joe changed his clot hes so far, as t o m ake a com prom ise bet ween his Sunday dress and working dress: in which t he dear fellow looked nat ural, and like t he Man he was. He was very m uch pleased by m y asking if I m ight sleep in m y own lit t le room , and I was pleased t oo; for, I felt t hat I 397
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
had done rat her a great t hing in m aking t he request . When t he shadows of evening were closing in, I t ook an opport unit y of get t ing int o t he garden wit h Biddy for a lit t le t alk. “ Biddy,” said I , “ I t hink you m ight have writ t en t o m e about t hese sad m at t ers.” “ Do you, Mr. Pip?” said Biddy. “ I should have writ t en if I had t hought t hat .” “ Don't suppose t hat I m ean t o be unkind, Biddy, when I say I consider t hat you ought t o have t hought t hat .” “ Do you, Mr. Pip?” She was so quiet , and had such an orderly, good, and pret t y way wit h her, t hat I did not like t he t hought of m aking her cry again. Aft er looking a lit t le at her downcast eyes as she walked beside m e, I gave up t hat point . “ I suppose it will be difficult for you t o rem ain here now, Biddy dear?” “ Oh! I can't do so, Mr. Pip,” said Biddy, in a t one of regret , but st ill of quiet convict ion. “ I have been speaking t o Mrs. Hubble, and I am going t o her t o- m orrow. I hope we shall be able t o t ake som e care of Mr. Gargery, t oget her, unt il he set t les down.” “ How are you going t o live, Biddy? I f you want any m o—” “ How am I going t o live?” repeat ed Biddy, st riking in, wit h a m om ent ary flush upon her face. “ I 'll t ell you, Mr. Pip. I am going t o t ry t o get t he place of m ist ress in t he new school nearly finished here. I can be well recom m ended by all t he neighbours, and I hope I can be indust rious and pat ient , and t each m yself while I t each ot hers. You know, Mr. Pip,” pursued Biddy, wit h a sm ile, as she raised her eyes t o m y 398
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
face, “ t he new schools are not like t he old, but I learnt a good deal from you aft er t hat t im e, and have had t im e since t hen t o im prove.” “ I t hink you would always im prove, Biddy, under any circum st ances.” “ Ah! Except in m y bad side of hum an nat ure,” m urm ured Biddy. I t was not so m uch a reproach, as an irresist ible t hinking aloud. Well! I t hought I would give up t hat point t oo. So, I walked a lit t le furt her wit h Biddy, looking silent ly at her downcast eyes. “ I have not heard t he part iculars of m y sist er's deat h, Biddy.” “ They are very slight , poor t hing. She had been in one of her bad st at es—t hough t hey had got bet t er of lat e, rat her t han worse—for four days, when she cam e out of it in t he evening, j ust at t eat im e, and said quit e plainly, ‘Joe.’ As she had never said any word for a long while, I ran and fet ched in Mr. Gargery from t he forge. She m ade signs t o m e t hat she want ed him t o sit down close t o her, and want ed m e t o put her arm s round his neck. So I put t hem round his neck, and she laid her head down on his shoulder quit e cont ent and sat isfied. And so she present ly said ‘Joe’ again, and once ‘Pardon,’ and once ‘Pip.’ And so she never lift ed her head up any m ore, and it was j ust an hour lat er when we laid it down on her own bed, because we found she was gone.” Biddy cried; t he darkening garden, and t he lane, and t he st ars t hat were com ing out , were blurred in m y own sight . “ Not hing was ever discovered, Biddy?” 399
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Not hing.” “ Do you know what is becom e of Orlick?” “ I should t hink from t he colour of his clot hes t hat he is working in t he quarries.” “ Of course you have seen him t hen?—Why are you looking at t hat dark t ree in t he lane?” “ I saw him t here, on t he night she died.” “ That was not t he last t im e eit her, Biddy?” “ No; I have seen him t here, since we have been walking here.—I t is of no use,” said Biddy, laying her hand upon m y arm , as I was for running out , “ you know I would not deceive you; he was not t here a m inut e, and he is gone.” I t revived m y ut m ost indignat ion t o find t hat she was st ill pursued by t his fellow, and I felt invet erat e against him . I t old her so, and t old her t hat I would spend any m oney or t ake any pains t o drive him out of t hat count ry. By degrees she led m e int o m ore t em perat e t alk, and she t old m e how Joe loved m e, and how Joe never com plained of anyt hing—she didn't say, of m e; she had no need; I knew what she m eant —but ever did his dut y in his way of life, wit h a st rong hand, a quiet t ongue, and a gent le heart . “ I ndeed, it would be hard t o say t oo m uch for him ,” said I ; “ and Biddy, we m ust oft en speak of t hese t hings, for of course I shall be oft en down here now. I am not going t o leave poor Joe alone.” Biddy said never a single word. “ Biddy, don't you hear m e?” “ Yes, Mr. Pip.” 400
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Not t o m ent ion your calling m e Mr. Pip—which appears t o m e t o be in bad t ast e, Biddy—what do you m ean?” “ What do I m ean?” asked Biddy, t im idly. “ Biddy,” said I , in a virt uously self- assert ing m anner, “ I m ust request t o know what you m ean by t his?” “ By t his?” said Biddy. “ Now, don't echo,” I ret ort ed. “ You used not t o echo, Biddy.” “ Used not ! ” said Biddy. “ O Mr. Pip! Used! ” Well! I rat her t hought I would give up t hat point t oo. Aft er anot her silent t urn in t he garden, I fell back on t he m ain posit ion. “ Biddy,” said I , “ I m ade a rem ark respect ing m y com ing down here oft en, t o see Joe, which you received wit h a m arked silence. Have t he goodness, Biddy, t o t ell m e why.” “ Are you quit e sure, t hen, t hat you WI LL com e t o see him oft en?” asked Biddy, st opping in t he narrow garden walk, and looking at m e under t he st ars wit h a clear and honest eye. “ Oh dear m e! ” said I , as if I found m yself com pelled t o give up Biddy in despair. “ This really is a very bad side of hum an nat ure! Don't say any m ore, if you please, Biddy. This shocks m e very m uch.” For which cogent reason I kept Biddy at a dist ance during supper, and, when I went up t o m y own old lit t le room , t ook as st at ely a leave of her as I could, in m y m urm uring soul, deem reconcilable wit h t he churchyard and t he event of t he day. As oft en as I was rest less in t he night , and t hat was every quart er of an hour, I reflect ed what an unkindness, what an inj ury, what an inj ust ice, Biddy had done m e. 401
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Early in t he m orning, I was t o go. Early in t he m orning, I was out , and looking in, unseen, at one of t he wooden windows of t he forge. There I st ood, for m inut es, looking at Joe, already at work wit h a glow of healt h and st rengt h upon his face t hat m ade it show as if t he bright sun of t he life in st ore for him were shining on it . “ Good- bye, dear Joe! —No, don't wipe it off—for God's sake, give m e your blackened hand! —I shall be down soon, and oft en.” “ Never t oo soon, sir,” said Joe, “ and never t oo oft en, Pip! ” Biddy was wait ing for m e at t he kit chen door, wit h a m ug of new m ilk and a crust of bread. “ Biddy,” said I , when I gave her m y hand at part ing, “ I am not angry, but I am hurt .” “ No, don't be hurt ,” she pleaded quit e pat het ically; “ let only m e be hurt , if I have been ungenerous.” Once m ore, t he m ist s were rising as I walked away. I f t hey disclosed t o m e, as I suspect t hey did, t hat I should not com e back, and t hat Biddy was quit e right , all I can say is—t hey were quit e right t oo.
402
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 36 Herbert and I went on from bad t o worse, in t he way of increasing our debt s, looking int o our affairs, leaving Margins, and t he like exem plary t ransact ions; and Tim e went on, whet her or no, as he has a way of doing; and I cam e of age— in fulfilm ent of Herbert 's predict ion, t hat I should do so before I knew where I was. Herbert him self had com e of age, eight m ont hs before m e. As he had not hing else t han his m aj orit y t o com e int o, t he event did not m ake a profound sensat ion in Barnard's I nn. But we had looked forward t o m y one- and- t went iet h birt hday, wit h a crowd of speculat ions and ant icipat ions, for we had bot h considered t hat m y guardian could hardly help saying som et hing definit e on t hat occasion. I had t aken care t o have it well underst ood in Lit t le Brit ain, when m y birt hday was. On t he day before it , I received an official not e from Wem m ick, inform ing m e t hat Mr. Jaggers would be glad if I would call upon him at five in t he aft ernoon of t he auspicious day. This convinced us t hat som et hing great was t o happen, and t hrew m e int o an unusual flut t er when I repaired t o m y guardian's office, a m odel of punct ualit y. I n t he out er office Wem m ick offered m e his congrat ulat ions, and incident ally rubbed t he side of his nose wit h a folded piece of t issuepaper t hat I liked t he look of. But he said not hing respect ing it , and m ot ioned m e wit h a nod int o m y guardian's room . I t was Novem ber, and m y guardian 403
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was st anding before his fire leaning his back against t he chim ney- piece, wit h his hands under his coat t ails. “ Well, Pip,” said he, “ I m ust call you Mr. Pip t o- day. Congrat ulat ions, Mr. Pip.” We shook hands—he was always a rem arkably short shaker—and I t hanked him . “ Take a chair, Mr. Pip,” said m y guardian. As I sat down, and he preserved his at t it ude and bent his brows at his boot s, I felt at a disadvant age, which rem inded m e of t hat old t im e when I had been put upon a t om bst one. The t wo ghast ly cast s on t he shelf were not far from him , and t heir expression was as if t hey were m aking a st upid apoplect ic at t em pt t o at t end t o t he conversat ion. “ Now m y young friend,” m y guardian began, as if I were a wit ness in t he box, “ I am going t o have a word or t wo wit h you.” “ I f you please, sir.” “ What do you suppose,” said Mr. Jaggers, bending forward t o look at t he ground, and t hen t hrowing his head back t o look at t he ceiling, “ what do you suppose you are living at t he rat e of?” “ At t he rat e of, sir?” “ At ,” repeat ed Mr. Jaggers, st ill looking at t he ceiling, “ t he—rat e—of?” And t hen looked all round t he room , and paused wit h his pocket - handkerchief in his hand, half way t o his nose. I had looked int o m y affairs so oft en, t hat I had t horoughly dest royed any slight not ion I m ight ever have had of t heir bearings. Reluct ant ly, I confessed m yself quit e unable t o 404
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
answer t he quest ion. This reply seem ed agreeable t o Mr. Jaggers, who said, “ I t hought so! ” and blew his nose wit h an air of sat isfact ion. “ Now, I have asked you a quest ion, m y friend,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Have you anyt hing t o ask m e?” “ Of course it would be a great relief t o m e t o ask you several quest ions, sir; but I rem em ber your prohibit ion.” “ Ask one,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ I s m y benefact or t o be m ade known t o m e t o- day?” “ No. Ask anot her.” “ I s t hat confidence t o be im part ed t o m e soon?” “ Waive t hat , a m om ent ,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ and ask anot her.” I looked about m e, but t here appeared t o be now no possible escape from t he inquiry, “ Have—I —anyt hing t o receive, sir?” On t hat , Mr. Jaggers said, t rium phant ly, “ I t hought we should com e t o it ! ” and called t o Wem m ick t o give him t hat piece of paper. Wem m ick appeared, handed it in, and disappeared. “ Now, Mr. Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ at t end, if you please. You have been drawing pret t y freely here; your nam e occurs pret t y oft en in Wem m ick's cash- book; but you are in debt , of course?” “ I am afraid I m ust say yes, sir.” “ You know you m ust say yes; don't you?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Yes, sir.” “ I don't ask you what you owe, because you don't know; and if you did know, you wouldn't t ell m e; you would say less. Yes, yes, m y friend,” cried Mr. Jaggers, waving his forefinger 405
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o st op m e, as I m ade a show of prot est ing: “ it 's likely enough t hat you t hink you wouldn't , but you would. You'll excuse m e, but I know bet t er t han you. Now, t ake t his piece of paper in your hand. You have got it ? Very good. Now, unfold it and t ell m e what it is.” “ This is a bank- not e,” said I , “ for five hundred pounds.” “ That is a bank- not e,” repeat ed Mr. Jaggers, “ for five hundred pounds. And a very handsom e sum of m oney t oo, I t hink. You consider it so?” “ How could I do ot herwise! ” “ Ah! But answer t he quest ion,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Undoubt edly.” “ You consider it , undoubt edly, a handsom e sum of m oney. Now, t hat handsom e sum of m oney, Pip, is your own. I t is a present t o you on t his day, in earnest of your expect at ions. And at t he rat e of t hat handsom e sum of m oney per annum , and at no higher rat e, you are t o live unt il t he donor of t he whole appears. That is t o say, you will now t ake your m oney affairs ent irely int o your own hands, and you will draw from Wem m ick one hundred and t went y- five pounds per quart er, unt il you are in com m unicat ion wit h t he fount ain- head, and no longer wit h t he m ere agent . As I have t old you before, I am t he m ere agent . I execut e m y inst ruct ions, and I am paid for doing so. I t hink t hem inj udicious, but I am not paid for giving any opinion on t heir m erit s.” I was beginning t o express m y grat it ude t o m y benefact or for t he great liberalit y wit h which I was t reat ed, when Mr. Jaggers st opped m e. “ I am not paid, Pip,” said he, coolly, “ t o carry your words t o any one; ” and t hen gat hered up his coat 406
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t ails, as he had gat hered up t he subj ect , and st ood frowning at his boot s as if he suspect ed t hem of designs against him . Aft er a pause, I hint ed: “ There was a quest ion j ust now, Mr. Jaggers, which you desired m e t o waive for a m om ent . I hope I am doing not hing wrong in asking it again?” “ What is it ?” said he. I m ight have known t hat he would never help m e out ; but it t ook m e aback t o have t o shape t he quest ion afresh, as if it were quit e new. “ I s it likely,” I said, aft er hesit at ing, “ t hat m y pat ron, t he fount ain- head you have spoken of, Mr. Jaggers, will soon—” t here I delicat ely st opped. “ Will soon what ?” asked Mr. Jaggers. “ That 's no quest ion as it st ands, you know.” “ Will soon com e t o London,” said I , aft er cast ing about for a precise form of words, “ or sum m on m e anywhere else?” “ Now here,” replied Mr. Jaggers, fixing m e for t he first t im e wit h his dark deep- set eyes, “ we m ust revert t o t he evening when we first encount ered one anot her in your village. What did I t ell you t hen, Pip?” “ You t old m e, Mr. Jaggers, t hat it m ight be years hence when t hat person appeared.” “ Just so,” said Mr. Jaggers; “ t hat 's m y answer.” As we looked full at one anot her, I felt m y breat h com e quicker in m y st rong desire t o get som et hing out of him . And as I felt t hat it cam e quicker, and as I felt t hat he saw t hat it cam e quicker, I felt t hat I had less chance t han ever of get t ing anyt hing out of him . “ Do you suppose it will st ill be years hence, Mr. Jaggers?” 407
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Mr. Jaggers shook his head—not in negat iving t he quest ion, but in alt oget her negat iving t he not ion t hat he could anyhow be got t o answer it —and t he t wo horrible cast s of t he t wit ched faces looked, when m y eyes st rayed up t o t hem , as if t hey had com e t o a crisis in t heir suspended at t ent ion, and were going t o sneeze. “ Com e! ” said Mr. Jaggers, warm ing t he backs of his legs wit h t he backs of his warm ed hands, “ I 'll be plain wit h you, m y friend Pip. That 's a quest ion I m ust not be asked. You'll underst and t hat , bet t er, when I t ell you it 's a quest ion t hat m ight com prom ise m e. Com e! I 'll go a lit t le furt her wit h you; I 'll say som et hing m ore.” He bent down so low t o frown at his boot s, t hat he was able t o rub t he calves of his legs in t he pause he m ade. “ When t hat person discloses,” said Mr. Jaggers, st raight ening him self, “ you and t hat person will set t le your own affairs. When t hat person discloses, m y part in t his business will cease and det erm ine. When t hat person discloses, it will not be necessary for m e t o know anyt hing about it . And t hat 's all I have got t o say.” We looked at one anot her unt il I wit hdrew m y eyes, and looked t hought fully at t he floor. From t his last speech I derived t he not ion t hat Miss Havisham , for som e reason or no reason, had not t aken him int o her confidence as t o her designing m e for Est ella; t hat he resent ed t his, and felt a j ealousy about it ; or t hat he really did obj ect t o t hat schem e, and would have not hing t o do wit h it . When I raised m y eyes again, I found t hat he had been shrewdly looking at m e all t he t im e, and was doing so st ill. 408
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I f t hat is all you have t o say, sir,” I rem arked, “ t here can be not hing left for m e t o say.” He nodded assent , and pulled out his t hief- dreaded wat ch, and asked m e where I was going t o dine? I replied at m y own cham bers, wit h Herbert . As a necessary sequence, I asked him if he would favour us wit h his com pany, and he prom pt ly accept ed t he invit at ion. But he insist ed on walking hom e wit h m e, in order t hat I m ight m ake no ext ra preparat ion for him , and first he had a let t er or t wo t o writ e, and ( of course) had his hands t o wash. So, I said I would go int o t he out er office and t alk t o Wem m ick. The fact was, t hat when t he five hundred pounds had com e int o m y pocket , a t hought had com e int o m y head which had been oft en t here before; and it appeared t o m e t hat Wem m ick was a good person t o advise wit h, concerning such t hought . He had already locked up his safe, and m ade preparat ions for going hom e. He had left his desk, brought out his t wo greasy office candlest icks and st ood t hem in line wit h t he snuffers on a slab near t he door, ready t o be ext inguished; he had raked his fire low, put his hat and great - coat ready, and was beat ing him self all over t he chest wit h his safe- key, as an at hlet ic exercise aft er business. “ Mr. Wem m ick,” said I , “ I want t o ask your opinion. I am very desirous t o serve a friend.” Wem m ick t ight ened his post - office and shook his head, as if his opinion were dead against any fat al weakness of t hat sort . 409
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ This friend,” I pursued, “ is t rying t o get on in com m ercial life, but has no m oney, and finds it difficult and disheart ening t o m ake a beginning. Now, I want som ehow t o help him t o a beginning.” “ Wit h m oney down?” said Wem m ick, in a t one drier t han any sawdust . “ Wit h som e m oney down,” I replied, for an uneasy rem em brance shot across m e of t hat sym m et rical bundle of papers at hom e; “ wit h som e m oney down, and perhaps som e ant icipat ion of m y expect at ions.” “ Mr. Pip,” said Wem m ick, “ I should like j ust t o run over wit h you on m y fingers, if you please, t he nam es of t he various bridges up as high as Chelsea Reach. Let 's see; t here's London, one; Sout hwark, t wo; Blackfriars, t hree; Wat erloo, four; West m inst er, five; Vauxhall, six.” He had checked off each bridge in it s t urn, wit h t he handle of his safe- key on t he palm of his hand. “ There's as m any as six, you see, t o choose from .” “ I don't underst and you,” said I . “ Choose your bridge, Mr. Pip,” ret urned Wem m ick, “ and t ake a walk upon your bridge, and pit ch your m oney int o t he Tham es over t he cent re arch of your bridge, and you know t he end of it . Serve a friend wit h it , and you m ay know t he end of it t oo—but it 's a less pleasant and profit able end.” I could have post ed a newspaper in his m out h, he m ade it so wide aft er saying t his. “ This is very discouraging,” said I . “ Meant t o be so,” said Wem m ick. 410
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Then is it your opinion,” I inquired, wit h som e lit t le indignat ion, “ t hat a m an should never—” “ —I nvest port able propert y in a friend?” said Wem m ick. “ Cert ainly he should not . Unless he want s t o get rid of t he friend—and t hen it becom es a quest ion how m uch port able propert y it m ay be wort h t o get rid of him .” “ And t hat ,” said I , “ is your deliberat e opinion, Mr. Wem m ick?” “ That ,” he ret urned, “ is m y deliberat e opinion in t his office.” “ Ah! ” said I , pressing him , for I t hought I saw him near a loophole here; “ but would t hat be your opinion at Walwort h?” “ Mr. Pip,” he replied, wit h gravit y, “ Walwort h is one place, and t his office is anot her. Much as t he Aged is one person, and Mr. Jaggers is anot her. They m ust not be confounded t oget her. My Walwort h sent im ent s m ust be t aken at Walwort h; none but m y official sent im ent s can be t aken in t his office.” “ Very well,” said I , m uch relieved, “ t hen I shall look you up at Walwort h, you m ay depend upon it .” “ Mr. Pip,” he ret urned, “ you will be welcom e t here, in a privat e and personal capacit y.” We had held t his conversat ion in a low voice, well knowing m y guardian's ears t o be t he sharpest of t he sharp. As he now appeared in his doorway, t owelling his hands, Wem m ick got on his great coat and st ood by t o snuff out t he candles. We all t hree went int o t he st reet t oget her, and from t he doorst ep Wem m ick t urned his way, and Mr. Jaggers and I t urned ours. 411
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I could not help wishing m ore t han once t hat evening, t hat Mr. Jaggers had had an Aged in Gerrard- st reet , or a St inger, or a Som et hing, or a Som ebody, t o unbend his brows a lit t le. I t was an uncom fort able considerat ion on a t went y- first birt hday, t hat com ing of age at all seem ed hardly wort h while in such a guarded and suspicious world as he m ade of it . He was a t housand t im es bet t er inform ed and cleverer t han Wem m ick, and yet I would a t housand t im es rat her have had Wem m ick t o dinner. And Mr. Jaggers m ade not m e alone int ensely m elancholy, because, aft er he was gone, Herbert said of him self, wit h his eyes fixed on t he fire, t hat he t hought he m ust have com m it t ed a felony and forgot t en t he det ails of it , he felt so dej ect ed and guilt y.
412
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 37 Deem ing Sunday t he best day for t aking Mr. Wem m ick's Walwort h sent im ent s, I devot ed t he next ensuing Sunday aft ernoon t o a pilgrim age t o t he Cast le. On arriving before t he bat t lem ent s, I found t he Union Jack flying and t he drawbridge up; but undet erred by t his show of defiance and resist ance, I rang at t he gat e, and was adm it t ed in a m ost pacific m anner by t he Aged. “ My son, sir,” said t he old m an, aft er securing t he drawbridge, “ rat her had it in his m ind t hat you m ight happen t o drop in, and he left word t hat he would soon be hom e from his aft ernoon's walk. He is very regular in his walks, is m y son. Very regular in everyt hing, is m y son.” I nodded at t he old gent lem an as Wem m ick him self m ight have nodded, and we went in and sat down by t he fireside. “ You m ade acquaint ance wit h m y son, sir,” said t he old m an, in his chirping way, while he warm ed his hands at t he blaze, “ at his office, I expect ?” I nodded. “ Hah! I have heerd t hat m y son is a wonderful hand at his business, sir?” I nodded hard. “ Yes; so t hey t ell m e. His business is t he Law?” I nodded harder. “ Which m akes it m ore surprising in m y son,” said t he old m an, “ for he was not brought up t o t he Law, but t o t he Wine- Coopering.” Curious t o know how t he old gent lem an st ood inform ed concerning t he reput at ion of Mr. Jaggers, I roared t hat nam e at him . He t hrew m e int o t he great est confusion by laughing heart ily and replying in a very spright ly m anner, “ No, t o be 413
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
sure; you're right .” And t o t his hour I have not t he faint est not ion what he m eant , or what j oke he t hought I had m ade. As I could not sit t here nodding at him perpet ually, wit hout m aking som e ot her at t em pt t o int erest him , I shout ed at inquiry whet her his own calling in life had been “ t he WineCoopering.” By dint of st raining t hat t erm out of m yself several t im es and t apping t he old gent lem an on t he chest t o associat e it wit h him , I at last succeeded in m aking m y m eaning underst ood. “ No,” said t he old gent lem an; “ t he warehousing, t he warehousing. First , over yonder; ” he appeared t o m ean up t he chim ney, but I believe he int ended t o refer m e t o Liverpool; “ and t hen in t he Cit y of London here. However, having an infirm it y—for I am hard of hearing, sir—” I expressed in pant om im e t he great est ast onishm ent . “ —Yes, hard of hearing; having t hat infirm it y com ing upon m e, m y son he went int o t he Law, and he t ook charge of m e, and he by lit t le and lit t le m ade out t his elegant and beaut iful propert y. But ret urning t o what you said, you know,” pursued t he old m an, again laughing heart ily, “ what I say is, No t o be sure; you're right .” I was m odest ly wondering whet her m y ut m ost ingenuit y would have enabled m e t o say anyt hing t hat would have am used him half as m uch as t his im aginary pleasant ry, when I was st art led by a sudden click in t he wall on one side of t he chim ney, and t he ghost ly t um bling open of a lit t le wooden flap wit h “ JOHN” upon it . The old m an, following m y eyes, cried wit h great t rium ph, “ My son's com e hom e! ” and we bot h went out t o t he drawbridge. 414
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t was wort h any m oney t o see Wem m ick waving a salut e t o m e from t he ot her side of t he m oat , when we m ight have shaken hands across it wit h t he great est ease. The Aged was so delight ed t o work t he drawbridge, t hat I m ade no offer t o assist him , but st ood quiet unt il Wem m ick had com e across, and had present ed m e t o Miss Skiffins: a lady by whom he was accom panied. Miss Skiffins was of a wooden appearance, and was, like her escort , in t he post - office branch of t he service. She m ight have been som e t wo or t hree years younger t han Wem m ick, and I j udged her t o st and possessed of port able propert y. The cut of her dress from t he waist upward, bot h before and behind, m ade her figure very like a boy's kit e; and I m ight have pronounced her gown a lit t le t oo decidedly orange, and her gloves a lit t le t oo int ensely green. But she seem ed t o be a good sort of fellow, and showed a high regard for t he Aged. I was not long in discovering t hat she was a frequent visit or at t he Cast le; for, on our going in, and m y com plim ent ing Wem m ick on his ingenious cont rivance for announcing him self t o t he Aged, he begged m e t o give m y at t ent ion for a m om ent t o t he ot her side of t he chim ney, and disappeared. Present ly anot her click cam e, and anot her lit t le door t um bled open wit h “ Miss Skiffins” on it ; t hen Miss Skiffins shut up and John t um bled open; t hen Miss Skiffins and John bot h t um bled open t oget her, and finally shut up t oget her. On Wem m ick's ret urn from working t hese m echanical appliances, I expressed t he great adm irat ion wit h which I regarded t hem , and he said, “ Well, you know, t hey're bot h pleasant and useful t o t he Aged. And by George, sir, it 's a t hing wort h m ent ioning, t hat 415
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
of all t he people who com e t o t his gat e, t he secret of t hose pulls is only known t o t he Aged, Miss Skiffins, and m e! ” “ And Mr. Wem m ick m ade t hem ,” added Miss Skiffins, “ wit h his own hands out of his own head.” While Miss Skiffins was t aking off her bonnet ( she ret ained her green gloves during t he evening as an out ward and visible sign t hat t here was com pany) , Wem m ick invit ed m e t o t ake a walk wit h him round t he propert y, and see how t he island looked in wint ert im e. Thinking t hat he did t his t o give m e an opport unit y of t aking his Walwort h sent im ent s, I seized t he opport unit y as soon as we were out of t he Cast le. Having t hought of t he m at t er wit h care, I approached m y subj ect as if I had never hint ed at it before. I inform ed Wem m ick t hat I was anxious in behalf of Herbert Pocket , and I t old him how we had first m et , and how we had fought . I glanced at Herbert 's hom e, and at his charact er, and at his having no m eans but such as he was dependent on his fat her for: t hose, uncert ain and unpunct ual. I alluded t o t he advant ages I had derived in m y first rawness and ignorance from his societ y, and I confessed t hat I feared I had but ill repaid t hem , and t hat he m ight have done bet t er wit hout m e and m y expect at ions. Keeping Miss Havisham in t he background at a great dist ance, I st ill hint ed at t he possibilit y of m y having com pet ed wit h him in his prospect s, and at t he cert aint y of his possessing a generous soul, and being far above any m ean dist rust s, ret aliat ions, or designs. For all t hese reasons ( I t old Wem m ick) , and because he was m y young com panion and friend, and I had a great affect ion for him , I wished m y own good fort une t o reflect 416
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
som e rays upon him , and t herefore I sought advice from Wem m ick's experience and knowledge of m en and affairs, how I could best t ry wit h m y resources t o help Herbert t o som e present incom e—say of a hundred a year, t o keep him in good hope and heart —and gradually t o buy him on t o som e sm all part nership. I begged Wem m ick, in conclusion, t o underst and t hat m y help m ust always be rendered wit hout Herbert 's knowledge or suspicion, and t hat t here was no one else in t he world wit h whom I could advise. I wound up by laying m y hand upon his shoulder, and saying, “ I can't help confiding in you, t hough I know it m ust be t roublesom e t o you; but t hat is your fault , in having ever brought m e here.” Wem m ick was silent for a lit t le while, and t hen said wit h a kind of st art , “ Well you know, Mr. Pip, I m ust t ell you one t hing. This is devilish good of you.” “ Say you'll help m e t o be good t hen,” said I . “ Ecod,” replied Wem m ick, shaking his head, “ t hat 's not m y t rade.” “ Nor is t his your t rading- place,” said I . “ You are right ,” he ret urned. “ You hit t he nail on t he head. Mr. Pip, I 'll put on m y considering- cap, and I t hink all you want t o do, m ay be done by degrees. Skiffins ( t hat 's her brot her) is an account ant and agent . I 'll look him up and go t o work for you.” “ I t hank you t en t housand t im es.” “ On t he cont rary,” said he, “ I t hank you, for t hough we are st rict ly in our privat e and personal capacit y, st ill it m ay be m ent ioned t hat t here are Newgat e cobwebs about , and it brushes t hem away.” 417
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Aft er a lit t le furt her conversat ion t o t he sam e effect , we ret urned int o t he Cast le where we found Miss Skiffins preparing t ea. The responsible dut y of m aking t he t oast was delegat ed t o t he Aged, and t hat excellent old gent lem an was so int ent upon it t hat he seem ed t o m e in som e danger of m elt ing his eyes. I t was no nom inal m eal t hat we were going t o m ake, but a vigorous realit y. The Aged prepared such a hayst ack of but t ered t oast , t hat I could scarcely see him over it as it sim m ered on an iron st and hooked on t o t he t op- bar; while Miss Skiffins brewed such a j orum of t ea, t hat t he pig in t he back prem ises becam e st rongly excit ed, and repeat edly expressed his desire t o part icipat e in t he ent ert ainm ent . The flag had been st ruck, and t he gun had been fired, at t he right m om ent of t im e, and I felt as snugly cut off from t he rest of Walwort h as if t he m oat were t hirt y feet wide by as m any deep. Not hing dist urbed t he t ranquillit y of t he Cast le, but t he occasional t um bling open of John and Miss Skiffins: which lit t le doors were a prey t o som e spasm odic infirm it y t hat m ade m e sym pat het ically uncom fort able unt il I got used t o it . I inferred from t he m et hodical nat ure of Miss Skiffins's arrangem ent s t hat she m ade t ea t here every Sunday night ; and I rat her suspect ed t hat a classic brooch she wore, represent ing t he profile of an undesirable fem ale wit h a very st raight nose and a very new m oon, was a piece of port able propert y t hat had been given her by Wem m ick. We at e t he whole of t he t oast , and drank t ea in proport ion, and it was delight ful t o see how warm and greasy we all got aft er it . The Aged especially, m ight have passed for som e clean old chief of a savage t ribe, j ust oiled. Aft er a short 418
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
pause for repose, Miss Skiffins—in t he absence of t he lit t le servant who, it seem ed, ret ired t o t he bosom of her fam ily on Sunday aft ernoons—washed up t he t ea- t hings, in a t rifling lady- like am at eur m anner t hat com prom ised none of us. Then, she put on her gloves again, and we drew round t he fire, and Wem m ick said, “ Now Aged Parent , t ip us t he paper.” Wem m ick explained t o m e while t he Aged got his spect acles out , t hat t his was according t o cust om , and t hat it gave t he old gent lem an infinit e sat isfact ion t o read t he news aloud. “ I won't offer an apology,” said Wem m ick, “ for he isn't capable of m any pleasures—are you, Aged P.?” “ All right , John, all right ,” ret urned t he old m an, seeing him self spoken t o. “ Only t ip him a nod every now and t hen when he looks off his paper,” said Wem m ick, “ and he'll be as happy as a king. We are all at t ent ion, Aged One.” “ All right , John, all right ! ” ret urned t he cheerful old m an: so busy and so pleased, t hat it really was quit e charm ing. The Aged's reading rem inded m e of t he classes at Mr. Wopsle's great - aunt 's, wit h t he pleasant er peculiarit y t hat it seem ed t o com e t hrough a keyhole. As he want ed t he candles close t o him , and as he was always on t he verge of put t ing eit her his head or t he newspaper int o t hem , he required as m uch wat ching as a powder- m ill. But Wem m ick was equally unt iring and gent le in his vigilance, and t he Aged read on, quit e unconscious of his m any rescues. Whenever he looked at us, we all expressed t he great est int erest and am azem ent , and nodded unt il he resum ed again. 419
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
As Wem m ick and Miss Skiffins sat side by side, and as I sat in a shadowy corner, I observed a slow and gradual elongat ion of Mr. Wem m ick's m out h, powerfully suggest ive of his slowly and gradually st ealing his arm round Miss Skiffins's waist . I n course of t im e I saw his hand appear on t he ot her side of Miss Skiffins; but at t hat m om ent Miss Skiffins neat ly st opped him wit h t he green glove, unwound his arm again as if it were an art icle of dress, and wit h t he great est deliberat ion laid it on t he t able before her. Miss Skiffins's com posure while she did t his was one of t he m ost rem arkable sight s I have ever seen, and if I could have t hought t he act consist ent wit h abst ract ion of m ind, I should have deem ed t hat Miss Skiffins perform ed it m echanically. By- and- by, I not iced Wem m ick's arm beginning t o disappear again, and gradually fading out of view. Short ly aft erwards, his m out h began t o widen again. Aft er an int erval of suspense on m y part t hat was quit e ent hralling and alm ost painful, I saw his hand appear on t he ot her side of Miss Skiffins. I nst ant ly, Miss Skiffins st opped it wit h t he neat ness of a placid boxer, t ook off t hat girdle or cest us as before, and laid it on t he t able. Taking t he t able t o represent t he pat h of virt ue, I am j ust ified in st at ing t hat during t he whole t im e of t he Aged's reading, Wem m ick's arm was st raying from t he pat h of virt ue and being recalled t o it by Miss Skiffins. At last , t he Aged read him self int o a light slum ber. This was t he t im e for Wem m ick t o produce a lit t le ket t le, a t ray of glasses, and a black bot t le wit h a porcelain- t opped cork, represent ing som e clerical dignit ary of a rubicund and social aspect . Wit h t he aid of t hese appliances we all had som et hing 420
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
warm t o drink: including t he Aged, who was soon awake again. Miss Skiffins m ixed, and I observed t hat she and Wem m ick drank out of one glass. Of course I knew bet t er t han t o offer t o see Miss Skiffins hom e, and under t he circum st ances I t hought I had best go first : which I did, t aking a cordial leave of t he Aged, and having passed a pleasant evening. Before a week was out , I received a not e from Wem m ick, dat ed Walwort h, st at ing t hat he hoped he had m ade som e advance in t hat m at t er appert aining t o our privat e and personal capacit ies, and t hat he would be glad if I could com e and see him again upon it . So, I went out t o Walwort h again, and yet again, and yet again, and I saw him by appoint m ent in t he Cit y several t im es, but never held any com m unicat ion wit h him on t he subj ect in or near Lit t le Brit ain. The upshot was, t hat we found a wort hy young m erchant or shippingbroker, not long est ablished in business, who want ed int elligent help, and who want ed capit al, and who in due course of t im e and receipt would want a part ner. Bet ween him and m e, secret art icles were signed of which Herbert was t he subj ect , and I paid him half of m y five hundred pounds down, and engaged for sundry ot her paym ent s: som e, t o fall due at cert ain dat es out of m y incom e: som e, cont ingent on m y com ing int o m y propert y. Miss Skiffins's brot her conduct ed t he negot iat ion. Wem m ick pervaded it t hroughout , but never appeared in it . The whole business was so cleverly m anaged, t hat Herbert had not t he least suspicion of m y hand being in it . I never shall forget t he radiant face wit h which he cam e hom e one 421
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
aft ernoon, and t old m e, as a m ight y piece of news, of his having fallen in wit h one Clarriker ( t he young m erchant 's nam e) , and of Clarriker's having shown an ext raordinary inclinat ion t owards him , and of his belief t hat t he opening had com e at last . Day by day as his hopes grew st ronger and his face bright er, he m ust have t hought m e a m ore and m ore affect ionat e friend, for I had t he great est difficult y in rest raining m y t ears of t rium ph when I saw him so happy. At lengt h, t he t hing being done, and he having t hat day ent ered Clarriker's House, and he having t alked t o m e for a whole evening in a flush of pleasure and success, I did really cry in good earnest when I went t o bed, t o t hink t hat m y expect at ions had done som e good t o som ebody. A great event in m y life, t he t urning point of m y life, now opens on m y view. But , before I proceed t o narrat e it , and before I pass on t o all t he changes it involved, I m ust give one chapt er t o Est ella. I t is not m uch t o give t o t he t hem e t hat so long filled m y heart .
422
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 38 I f t hat st aid old house near t he Green at Richm ond should ever com e t o be haunt ed when I am dead, it will be haunt ed, surely, by m y ghost . O t he m any, m any night s and days t hrough which t he unquiet spirit wit hin m e haunt ed t hat house when Est ella lived t here! Let m y body be where it would, m y spirit was always wandering, wandering, wandering, about t hat house. The lady wit h whom Est ella was placed, Mrs. Brandley by nam e, was a widow, wit h one daught er several years older t han Est ella. The m ot her looked young, and t he daught er looked old; t he m ot her's com plexion was pink, and t he daught er's was yellow; t he m ot her set up for frivolit y, and t he daught er for t heology. They were in what is called a good posit ion, and visit ed, and were visit ed by, num bers of people. Lit t le, if any, com m unit y of feeling subsist ed bet ween t hem and Est ella, but t he underst anding was est ablished t hat t hey were necessary t o her, and t hat she was necessary t o t hem . Mrs. Brandley had been a friend of Miss Havisham 's before t he t im e of her seclusion. I n Mrs. Brandley's house and out of Mrs. Brandley's house, I suffered every kind and degree of t ort ure t hat Est ella could cause m e. The nat ure of m y relat ions wit h her, which placed m e on t erm s of fam iliarit y wit hout placing m e on t erm s of favour, conduced t o m y dist ract ion. She m ade use of m e t o t ease ot her adm irers, and she t urned t he very fam iliarit y bet ween herself and m e, t o t he account of put t ing a const ant 423
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
slight on m y devot ion t o her. I f I had been her secret ary, st eward, half- brot her, poor relat ion—if I had been a younger brot her of her appoint ed husband—I could not have seem ed t o m yself, furt her from m y hopes when I was nearest t o her. The privilege of calling her by her nam e and hearing her call m e by m ine, becam e under t he circum st ances an aggravat ion of m y t rials; and while I t hink it likely t hat it alm ost m addened her ot her lovers, I know t oo cert ainly t hat it alm ost m addened m e. She had adm irers wit hout end. No doubt m y j ealousy m ade an adm irer of every one who went near her; but t here were m ore t han enough of t hem wit hout t hat . I saw her oft en at Richm ond, I heard of her oft en in t own, and I used oft en t o t ake her and t he Brandleys on t he wat er; t here were picnics, fet e days, plays, operas, concert s, part ies, all sort s of pleasures, t hrough which I pursued her—and t hey were all m iseries t o m e. I never had one hour's happiness in her societ y, and yet m y m ind all round t he four- and- t went y hours was harping on t he happiness of having her wit h m e unt o deat h. Throughout t his part of our int ercourse—and it last ed, as will present ly be seen, for what I t hen t hought a long t im e— she habit ually revert ed t o t hat t one which expressed t hat our associat ion was forced upon us. There were ot her t im es when she would com e t o a sudden check in t his t one and in all her m any t ones, and would seem t o pit y m e. “ Pip, Pip,” she said one evening, com ing t o such a check, when we sat apart at a darkening window of t he house in Richm ond; “ will you never t ake warning?” 424
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Of what ?” “ Of m e.” “ Warning not t o be at t ract ed by you, do you m ean, Est ella?” “ Do I m ean! I f you don't know what I m ean, you are blind.” I should have replied t hat Love was com m only reput ed blind, but for t he reason t hat I always was rest rained—and t his was not t he least of m y m iseries—by a feeling t hat it was ungenerous t o press m yself upon her, when she knew t hat she could not choose but obey Miss Havisham . My dread always was, t hat t his knowledge on her part laid m e under a heavy disadvant age wit h her pride, and m ade m e t he subj ect of a rebellious st ruggle in her bosom . “ At any rat e,” said I , “ I have no warning given m e j ust now, for you wrot e t o m e t o com e t o you, t his t im e.” “ That 's t rue,” said Est ella, wit h a cold careless sm ile t hat always chilled m e. Aft er looking at t he t wilight wit hout , for a lit t le while, she went on t o say: “ The t im e has com e round when Miss Havisham wishes t o have m e for a day at Sat is. You are t o t ake m e t here, and bring m e back, if you will. She would rat her I did not t ravel alone, and obj ect s t o receiving m y m aid, for she has a sensit ive horror of being t alked of by such people. Can you t ake m e?” “ Can I t ake you, Est ella! ”
425
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You can t hen? The day aft er t o- m orrow, if you please. You are t o pay all charges out of m y purse, You hear t he condit ion of your going?” “ And m ust obey,” said I . This was all t he preparat ion I received for t hat visit , or for ot hers like it : Miss Havisham never wrot e t o m e, nor had I ever so m uch as seen her handwrit ing. We went down on t he next day but one, and we found her in t he room where I had first beheld her, and it is needless t o add t hat t here was no change in Sat is House. She was even m ore dreadfully fond of Est ella t han she had been when I last saw t hem t oget her; I repeat t he word advisedly, for t here was som et hing posit ively dreadful in t he energy of her looks and em braces. She hung upon Est ella's beaut y, hung upon her words, hung upon her gest ures, and sat m um bling her own t rem bling fingers while she looked at her, as t hough she were devouring t he beaut iful creat ure she had reared. From Est ella she looked at m e, wit h a searching glance t hat seem ed t o pry int o m y heart and probe it s wounds. “ How does she use you, Pip; how does she use you?” she asked m e again, wit h her wit ch- like eagerness, even in Est ella's hearing. But , when we sat by her flickering fire at night , she was m ost weird; for t hen, keeping Est ella's hand drawn t hrough her arm and clut ched in her own hand, she ext ort ed from her, by dint of referring back t o what Est ella had t old her in her regular let t ers, t he nam es and condit ions of t he m en whom she had fascinat ed; and as Miss Havisham dwelt upon t his roll, wit h t he int ensit y of a m ind m ort ally hurt and 426
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
diseased, she sat wit h her ot her hand on her crut ch st ick, and her chin on t hat , and her wan bright eyes glaring at m e, a very spect re. I saw in t his, wret ched t hough it m ade m e, and bit t er t he sense of dependence and even of degradat ion t hat it awakened—I saw in t his, t hat Est ella was set t o wreak Miss Havisham 's revenge on m en, and t hat she was not t o be given t o m e unt il she had grat ified it for a t erm . I saw in t his, a reason for her being beforehand assigned t o m e. Sending her out t o at t ract and t orm ent and do m ischief, Miss Havisham sent her wit h t he m alicious assurance t hat she was beyond t he reach of all adm irers, and t hat all who st aked upon t hat cast were secured t o lose. I saw in t his, t hat I , t oo, was t orm ent ed by a perversion of ingenuit y, even while t he prize was reserved for m e. I saw in t his, t he reason for m y being st aved off so long, and t he reason for m y lat e guardian's declining t o com m it him self t o t he form al knowledge of such a schem e. I n a word, I saw in t his, Miss Havisham as I had her t hen and t here before m y eyes, and always had had her before m y eyes; and I saw in t his, t he dist inct shadow of t he darkened and unhealt hy house in which her life was hidden from t he sun. The candles t hat light ed t hat room of hers were placed in sconces on t he wall. They were high from t he ground, and t hey burnt wit h t he st eady dulness of art ificial light in air t hat is seldom renewed. As I looked round at t hem , and at t he pale gloom t hey m ade, and at t he st opped clock, and at t he wit hered art icles of bridal dress upon t he t able and t he ground, and at her own awful figure wit h it s ghost ly reflect ion 427
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hrown large by t he fire upon t he ceiling and t he wall, I saw in everyt hing t he const ruct ion t hat m y m ind had com e t o, repeat ed and t hrown back t o m e. My t hought s passed int o t he great room across t he landing where t he t able was spread, and I saw it writ t en, as it were, in t he falls of t he cobwebs from t he cent re- piece, in t he crawlings of t he spiders on t he clot h, in t he t racks of t he m ice as t hey bet ook t heir lit t le quickened heart s behind t he panels, and in t he gropings and pausings of t he beet les on t he floor. I t happened on t he occasion of t his visit t hat som e sharp words arose bet ween Est ella and Miss Havisham . I t was t he first t im e I had ever seen t hem opposed. We were seat ed by t he fire, as j ust now described, and Miss Havisham st ill had Est ella's arm drawn t hrough her own, and st ill clut ched Est ella's hand in hers, when Est ella gradually began t o det ach herself. She had shown a proud im pat ience m ore t han once before, and had rat her endured t hat fierce affect ion t han accept ed or ret urned it . “ What ! ” said Miss Havisham , flashing her eyes upon her, “ are you t ired of m e?” “ Only a lit t le t ired of m yself,” replied Est ella, disengaging her arm , and m oving t o t he great chim ney- piece, where she st ood looking down at t he fire. “ Speak t he t rut h, you ingrat e! ” cried Miss Havisham , passionat ely st riking her st ick upon t he floor; “ you are t ired of m e.” Est ella looked at her wit h perfect com posure, and again looked down at t he fire. Her graceful figure and her beaut iful 428
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
face expressed a self- possessed indifference t o t he wild heat of t he ot her, t hat was alm ost cruel. “ You st ock and st one! ” exclaim ed Miss Havisham . “ You cold, cold heart ! ” “ What ?” said Est ella, preserving her at t it ude of indifference as she leaned against t he great chim ney- piece and only m oving her eyes; “ do you reproach m e for being cold? You?” “ Are you not ?” was t he fierce ret ort . “ You should know,” said Est ella. “ I am what you have m ade m e. Take all t he praise, t ake all t he blam e; t ake all t he success, t ake all t he failure; in short , t ake m e.” “ O, look at her, look at her! ” cried Miss Havisham , bit t erly; “ Look at her, so hard and t hankless, on t he heart h where she was reared! Where I t ook her int o t his wret ched breast when it was first bleeding from it s st abs, and where I have lavished years of t enderness upon her! ” “ At least I was no part y t o t he com pact ,” said Est ella, “ for if I could walk and speak, when it was m ade, it was as m uch as I could do. But what would you have? You have been very good t o m e, and I owe everyt hing t o you. What would you have?” “ Love,” replied t he ot her. “ You have it .” “ I have not ,” said Miss Havisham . “ Mot her by adopt ion,” ret ort ed Est ella, never depart ing from t he easy grace of her at t it ude, never raising her voice as t he ot her did, never yielding eit her t o anger or t enderness, “ Mot her by adopt ion, I have said t hat I owe everyt hing t o you. All I possess is freely yours. All t hat you have given m e, 429
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
is at your com m and t o have again. Beyond t hat , I have not hing. And if you ask m e t o give you what you never gave m e, m y grat it ude and dut y cannot do im possibilit ies.” “ Did I never give her love! ” cried Miss Havisham , t urning wildly t o m e. “ Did I never give her a burning love, inseparable from j ealousy at all t im es, and from sharp pain, while she speaks t hus t o m e! Let her call m e m ad, let her call m e m ad! ” “ Why should I call you m ad,” ret urned Est ella, “ I , of all people? Does any one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I do? Does any one live, who knows what a st eady m em ory you have, half as well as I do? I who have sat on t his sam e heart h on t he lit t le st ool t hat is even now beside you t here, learning your lessons and looking up int o your face, when your face was st range and fright ened m e! ” “ Soon forgot t en! ” m oaned Miss Havisham . “ Tim es soon forgot t en! ” “ No, not forgot t en,” ret ort ed Est ella. “ Not forgot t en, but t reasured up in m y m em ory. When have you found m e false t o your t eaching? When have you found m e unm indful of your lessons? When have you found m e giving adm ission here,” she t ouched her bosom wit h her hand, “ t o anyt hing t hat you excluded? Be j ust t o m e.” “ So proud, so proud! ” m oaned Miss Havisham , pushing away her grey hair wit h bot h her hands. “ Who t aught m e t o be proud?” ret urned Est ella. “ Who praised m e when I learnt m y lesson?” “ So hard, so hard! ” m oaned Miss Havisham , wit h her form er act ion. 430
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Who t aught m e t o be hard?” ret urned Est ella. “ Who praised m e when I learnt m y lesson?” “ But t o be proud and hard t o m e! ” Miss Havisham quit e shrieked, as she st ret ched out her arm s. “ Est ella, Est ella, Est ella, t o be proud and hard t o m e! ” Est ella looked at her for a m om ent wit h a kind of calm wonder, but was not ot herwise dist urbed; when t he m om ent was past , she looked down at t he fire again. “ I cannot t hink,” said Est ella, raising her eyes aft er a silence “ why you should be so unreasonable when I com e t o see you aft er a separat ion. I have never forgot t en your wrongs and t heir causes. I have never been unfait hful t o you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness t hat I can charge m yself wit h.” “ Would it be weakness t o ret urn m y love?” exclaim ed Miss Havisham . “ But yes, yes, she would call it so! ” “ I begin t o t hink,” said Est ella, in a m using way, aft er anot her m om ent of calm wonder, “ t hat I alm ost underst and how t his com es about . I f you had brought up your adopt ed daught er wholly in t he dark confinem ent of t hese room s, and had never let her know t hat t here was such a t hing as t he daylight by which she had never once seen your face—if you had done t hat , and t hen, for a purpose had want ed her t o underst and t he daylight and know all about it , you would have been disappoint ed and angry?” Miss Havisham , wit h her head in her hands, sat m aking a low m oaning, and swaying herself on her chair, but gave no answer. 431
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Or,” said Est ella," —which is a nearer case—if you had t aught her, from t he dawn of her int elligence, wit h your ut m ost energy and m ight , t hat t here was such a t hing as daylight , but t hat it was m ade t o be her enem y and dest royer, and she m ust always t urn against it , for it had blight ed you and would else blight her; —if you had done t his, and t hen, for a purpose, had want ed her t o t ake nat urally t o t he daylight and she could not do it , you would have been disappoint ed and angry?” Miss Havisham sat list ening ( or it seem ed so, for I could not see her face) , but st ill m ade no answer. “ So,” said Est ella, “ I m ust be t aken as I have been m ade. The success is not m ine, t he failure is not m ine, but t he t wo t oget her m ake m e.” Miss Havisham had set t led down, I hardly knew how, upon t he floor, am ong t he faded bridal relics wit h which it was st rewn. I t ook advant age of t he m om ent —I had sought one from t he first —t o leave t he room , aft er beseeching Est ella's at t ent ion t o her, wit h a m ovem ent of m y hand. When I left , Est ella was yet st anding by t he great chim ney- piece, j ust as she had st ood t hroughout . Miss Havisham 's grey hair was all adrift upon t he ground, am ong t he ot her bridal wrecks, and was a m iserable sight t o see. I t was wit h a depressed heart t hat I walked in t he st arlight for an hour and m ore, about t he court - yard, and about t he brewery, and about t he ruined garden. When I at last t ook courage t o ret urn t o t he room , I found Est ella sit t ing at Miss Havisham 's knee, t aking up som e st it ches in one of t hose old art icles of dress t hat were dropping t o pieces, and of which I 432
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
have oft en been rem inded since by t he faded t at t ers of old banners t hat I have seen hanging up in cat hedrals. Aft erwards, Est ella and I played at cards, as of yore—only we were skilful now, and played French gam es—and so t he evening wore away, and I went t o bed. I lay in t hat separat e building across t he court - yard. I t was t he first t im e I had ever lain down t o rest in Sat is House, and sleep refused t o com e near m e. A t housand Miss Havisham s haunt ed m e. She was on t his side of m y pillow, on t hat , at t he head of t he bed, at t he foot , behind t he half- opened door of t he dressing- room , in t he dressing- room , in t he room overhead, in t he room beneat h—everywhere. At last , when t he night was slow t o creep on t owards t wo o'clock, I felt t hat I absolut ely could no longer bear t he place as a place t o lie down in, and t hat I m ust get up. I t herefore got up and put on m y clot hes, and went out across t he yard int o t he long st one passage, designing t o gain t he out er court - yard and walk t here for t he relief of m y m ind. But , I was no sooner in t he passage t han I ext inguished m y candle; for, I saw Miss Havisham going along it in a ghost ly m anner, m aking a low cry. I followed her at a dist ance, and saw her go up t he st aircase. She carried a bare candle in her hand, which she had probably t aken from one of t he sconces in her own room , and was a m ost uneart hly obj ect by it s light . St anding at t he bot t om of t he st aircase, I felt t he m ildewed air of t he feast cham ber, wit hout seeing her open t he door, and I heard her walking t here, and so across int o her own room , and so across again int o t hat , never ceasing t he low cry. Aft er a t im e, I t ried in t he dark bot h t o get out , and t o go back, but I 433
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
could do neit her unt il som e st reaks of day st rayed in and showed m e where t o lay m y hands. During t he whole int erval, whenever I went t o t he bot t om of t he st aircase, I heard her foot st ep, saw her light pass above, and heard her ceaseless low cry. Before we left next day, t here was no revival of t he difference bet ween her and Est ella, nor was it ever revived on any sim ilar occasion; and t here were four sim ilar occasions, t o t he best of m y rem em brance. Nor, did Miss Havisham 's m anner t owards Est ella in anywise change, except t hat I believed it t o have som et hing like fear infused am ong it s form er charact erist ics. I t is im possible t o t urn t his leaf of m y life, wit hout put t ing Bent ley Drum m le's nam e upon it ; or I would, very gladly. On a cert ain occasion when t he Finches were assem bled in force, and when good feeling was being prom ot ed in t he usual m anner by nobody's agreeing wit h anybody else, t he presiding Finch called t he Grove t o order, forasm uch as Mr. Drum m le had not yet t oast ed a lady; which, according t o t he solem n const it ut ion of t he societ y, it was t he brut e's t urn t o do t hat day. I t hought I saw him leer in an ugly way at m e while t he decant ers were going round, but as t here was no love lost bet ween us, t hat m ight easily be. What was m y indignant surprise when he called upon t he com pany t o pledge him t o “ Est ella! ” “ Est ella who?” said I . “ Never you m ind,” ret ort ed Drum m le. “ Est ella of where?” said I . “ You are bound t o say of where.” Which he was, as a Finch. 434
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Of Richm ond, gent lem en,” said Drum m le, put t ing m e out of t he quest ion, “ and a peerless beaut y.” Much he knew about peerless beaut ies, a m ean m iserable idiot ! I whispered Herbert . “ I know t hat lady,” said Herbert , across t he t able, when t he t oast had been honoured. “ Do you?” said Drum m le. “ And so do I ,” I added, wit h a scarlet face. “ Do you?” said Drum m le. “ Oh, Lord! ” This was t he only ret ort —except glass or crockery—t hat t he heavy creat ure was capable of m aking; but , I becam e as highly incensed by it as if it had been barbed wit h wit , and I im m ediat ely rose in m y place and said t hat I could not but regard it as being like t he honourable Finch's im pudence t o com e down t o t hat Grove—we always t alked about com ing down t o t hat Grove, as a neat Parliam ent ary t urn of expression—down t o t hat Grove, proposing a lady of whom he knew not hing. Mr. Drum m le upon t his, st art ing up, dem anded what I m eant by t hat ? Whereupon, I m ade him t he ext rem e reply t hat I believed he knew where I was t o be found. Whet her it was possible in a Christ ian count ry t o get on wit hout blood, aft er t his, was a quest ion on which t he Finches were divided. The debat e upon it grew so lively, indeed, t hat at least six m ore honourable m em bers t old six m ore, during t he discussion, t hat t hey believed t hey knew where t hey were t o be found. However, it was decided at last ( t he Grove being a Court of Honour) t hat if Mr. Drum m le would bring never so slight a cert ificat e from t he lady, im port ing t hat he had t he honour of her acquaint ance, Mr. Pip m ust express his regret , 435
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
as a gent lem an and a Finch, for “ having been bet rayed int o a warm t h which.” Next day was appoint ed for t he product ion ( lest our honour should t ake cold from delay) , and next day Drum m le appeared wit h a polit e lit t le avowal in Est ella's hand, t hat she had had t he honour of dancing wit h him several t im es. This left m e no course but t o regret t hat I had been “ bet rayed int o a warm t h which,” and on t he whole t o repudiat e, as unt enable, t he idea t hat I was t o be found anywhere. Drum m le and I t hen sat snort ing at one anot her for an hour, while t he Grove engaged in indiscrim inat e cont radict ion, and finally t he prom ot ion of good feeling was declared t o have gone ahead at an am azing rat e. I t ell t his light ly, but it was no light t hing t o m e. For, I cannot adequat ely express what pain it gave m e t o t hink t hat Est ella should show any favour t o a cont em pt ible, clum sy, sulky booby, so very far below t he average. To t he present m om ent , I believe it t o have been referable t o som e pure fire of generosit y and disint erest edness in m y love for her, t hat I could not endure t he t hought of her st ooping t o t hat hound. No doubt I should have been m iserable whom soever she had favoured; but a wort hier obj ect would have caused m e a different kind and degree of dist ress. I t was easy for m e t o find out , and I did soon find out , t hat Drum m le had begun t o follow her closely, and t hat she allowed him t o do it . A lit t le while, and he was always in pursuit of her, and he and I crossed one anot her every day. He held on, in a dull persist ent way, and Est ella held him on; now wit h encouragem ent , now wit h discouragem ent , now alm ost flat t ering him , now openly despising him , now 436
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
knowing him very well, now scarcely rem em bering who he was. The Spider, as Mr. Jaggers had called him , was used t o lying in wait , however, and had t he pat ience of his t ribe. Added t o t hat , he had a blockhead confidence in his m oney and in his fam ily great ness, which som et im es did him good service—alm ost t aking t he place of concent rat ion and det erm ined purpose. So, t he Spider, doggedly wat ching Est ella, out wat ched m any bright er insect s, and would oft en uncoil him self and drop at t he right nick of t im e. At a cert ain Assem bly Ball at Richm ond ( t here used t o be Assem bly Balls at m ost places t hen) , where Est ella had out shone all ot her beaut ies, t his blundering Drum m le so hung about her, and wit h so m uch t olerat ion on her part , t hat I resolved t o speak t o her concerning him . I t ook t he next opport unit y: which was when she was wait ing for Mrs. Brandley t o t ake her hom e, and was sit t ing apart am ong som e flowers, ready t o go. I was wit h her, for I alm ost always accom panied t hem t o and from such places. “ Are you t ired, Est ella?” “ Rat her, Pip.” “ You should be.” “ Say rat her, I should not be; for I have m y let t er t o Sat is House t o writ e, before I go t o sleep.” “ Recount ing t o- night 's t rium ph?” said I . “ Surely a very poor one, Est ella.” “ What do you m ean? I didn't know t here had been any.” “ Est ella,” said I , “ do look at t hat fellow in t he corner yonder, who is looking over here at us.” 437
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Why should I look at him ?” ret urned Est ella, wit h her eyes on m e inst ead. “ What is t here in t hat fellow in t he corner yonder—t o use your words—t hat I need look at ?” “ I ndeed, t hat is t he very quest ion I want t o ask you,” said I . “ For he has been hovering about you all night .” “ Mot hs, and all sort s of ugly creat ures,” replied Est ella, wit h a glance t owards him , “ hover about a light ed candle. Can t he candle help it ?” “ No,” I ret urned; “ but cannot t he Est ella help it ?” “ Well! ” said she, laughing, aft er a m om ent , “ perhaps. Yes. Anyt hing you like.” “ But , Est ella, do hear m e speak. I t m akes m e wret ched t hat you should encourage a m an so generally despised as Drum m le. You know he is despised.” “ Well?” said she. “ You know he is as ungainly wit hin, as wit hout . A deficient , illt em pered, lowering, st upid fellow.” “ Well?” said she. “ You know he has not hing t o recom m end him but m oney, and a ridiculous roll of addle- headed predecessors; now, don't you?” “ Well?” said she again; and each t im e she said it , she opened her lovely eyes t he wider. To overcom e t he difficult y of get t ing past t hat m onosyllable, I t ook it from her, and said, repeat ing it wit h em phasis, “ Well! Then, t hat is why it m akes m e wret ched.” Now, if I could have believed t hat she favoured Drum m le wit h any idea of m aking m e—m e—wret ched, I should have been in bet t er heart about it ; but in t hat habit ual way of hers, 438
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
she put m e so ent irely out of t he quest ion, t hat I could believe not hing of t he kind. “ Pip,” said Est ella, cast ing her glance over t he room , “ don't be foolish about it s effect on you. I t m ay have it s effect on ot hers, and m ay be m eant t o have. I t 's not wort h discussing.” “ Yes it is,” said I , “ because I cannot bear t hat people should say, ‘she t hrows away her graces and at t ract ions on a m ere boor, t he lowest in t he crowd.'” “ I can bear it ,” said Est ella. “ Oh! don't be so proud, Est ella, and so inflexible.” “ Calls m e proud and inflexible in t his breat h! ” said Est ella, opening her hands. “ And in his last breat h reproached m e for st ooping t o a boor! ” “ There is no doubt you do,” said I , som et hing hurriedly, “ for I have seen you give him looks and sm iles t his very night , such as you never give t o—m e.” “ Do you want m e t hen,” said Est ella, t urning suddenly wit h a fixed and serious, if not angry, look, “ t o deceive and ent rap you?” “ Do you deceive and ent rap him , Est ella?” “ Yes, and m any ot hers—all of t hem but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. I 'll say no m ore.” And now t hat I have given t he one chapt er t o t he t hem e t hat so filled m y heart , and so oft en m ade it ache and ache again, I pass on, unhindered, t o t he event t hat had im pended over m e longer yet ; t he event t hat had begun t o be prepared for, before I knew t hat t he world held Est ella, and in t he days when her baby int elligence was receiving it s first dist ort ions from Miss Havisham 's wast ing hands. 439
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I n t he East ern st ory, t he heavy slab t hat was t o fall on t he bed of st at e in t he flush of conquest was slowly wrought out of t he quarry, t he t unnel for t he rope t o hold it in it s place was slowly carried t hrough t he leagues of rock, t he slab was slowly raised and fit t ed in t he roof, t he rope was rove t o it and slowly t aken t hrough t he m iles of hollow t o t he great iron ring. All being m ade ready wit h m uch labour, and t he hour com e, t he sult an was aroused in t he dead of t he night , and t he sharpened axe t hat was t o sever t he rope from t he great iron ring was put int o his hand, and he st ruck wit h it , and t he rope part ed and rushed away, and t he ceiling fell. So, in m y case; all t he work, near and afar, t hat t ended t o t he end, had been accom plished; and in an inst ant t he blow was st ruck, and t he roof of m y st ronghold dropped upon m e.
440
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 39 I was t hree- and- t went y years of age. Not anot her word had I heard t o enlight en m e on t he subj ect of m y expect at ions, and m y t went y- t hird birt hday was a week gone. We had left Barnard's I nn m ore t han a year, and lived in t he Tem ple. Our cham bers were in Garden- court , down by t he river. Mr. Pocket and I had for som e t im e part ed com pany as t o our original relat ions, t hough we cont inued on t he best t erm s. Not wit hst anding m y inabilit y t o set t le t o anyt hing—which I hope arose out of t he rest less and incom plet e t enure on which I held m y m eans—I had a t ast e for reading, and read regularly so m any hours a day. That m at t er of Herbert 's was st ill progressing, and everyt hing wit h m e was as I have brought it down t o t he close of t he last preceding chapt er. Business had t aken Herbert on a j ourney t o Marseilles. I was alone, and had a dull sense of being alone. Dispirit ed and anxious, long hoping t hat t o- m orrow or next week would clear m y way, and long disappoint ed, I sadly m issed t he cheerful face and ready response of m y friend. I t was wret ched weat her; st orm y and wet , st orm y and wet ; and m ud, m ud, m ud, deep in all t he st reet s. Day aft er day, a vast heavy veil had been driving over London from t he East , and it drove st ill, as if in t he East t here were an Et ernit y of cloud and wind. So furious had been t he gust s, t hat high buildings in t own had had t he lead st ripped off t heir roofs; and in t he count ry, t rees had been t orn up, and sails of 441
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
windm ills carried away; and gloom y account s had com e in from t he coast , of shipwreck and deat h. Violent blast s of rain had accom panied t hese rages of wind, and t he day j ust closed as I sat down t o read had been t he worst of all. Alt erat ions have been m ade in t hat part of t he Tem ple since t hat t im e, and it has not now so lonely a charact er as it had t hen, nor is it so exposed t o t he river. We lived at t he t op of t he last house, and t he wind rushing up t he river shook t he house t hat night , like discharges of cannon, or breakings of a sea. When t he rain cam e wit h it and dashed against t he windows, I t hought , raising m y eyes t o t hem as t hey rocked, t hat I m ight have fancied m yself in a st orm - beat en light house. Occasionally, t he sm oke cam e rolling down t he chim ney as t hough it could not bear t o go out int o such a night ; and when I set t he doors open and looked down t he st aircase, t he st aircase lam ps were blown out ; and when I shaded m y face wit h m y hands and looked t hrough t he black windows ( opening t hem ever so lit t le, was out of t he quest ion in t he t eet h of such wind and rain) I saw t hat t he lam ps in t he court were blown out , and t hat t he lam ps on t he bridges and t he shore were shuddering, and t hat t he coal fires in barges on t he river were being carried away before t he wind like redhot splashes in t he rain. I read wit h m y wat ch upon t he t able, purposing t o close m y book at eleven o'clock. As I shut it , Saint Paul's, and all t he m any church- clocks in t he Cit y—som e leading, som e accom panying, som e following—st ruck t hat hour. The sound was curiously flawed by t he wind; and I was list ening, and 442
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hinking how t he wind assailed and t ore it , when I heard a foot st ep on t he st air. What nervous folly m ade m e st art , and awfully connect it wit h t he foot st ep of m y dead sist er, m at t ers not . I t was past in a m om ent , and I list ened again, and heard t he foot st ep st um ble in com ing on. Rem em bering t hen, t hat t he st aircaselight s were blown out , I t ook up m y reading- lam p and went out t o t he st air- head. Whoever was below had st opped on seeing m y lam p, for all was quiet . “ There is som e one down t here, is t here not ?” I called out , looking down. “ Yes,” said a voice from t he darkness beneat h. “ What floor do you want ?” “ The t op. Mr. Pip.” “ That is m y nam e.—There is not hing t he m at t er?” “ Not hing t he m at t er,” ret urned t he voice. And t he m an cam e on. I st ood wit h m y lam p held out over t he st air- rail, and he cam e slowly wit hin it s light . I t was a shaded lam p, t o shine upon a book, and it s circle of light was very cont ract ed; so t hat he was in it for a m ere inst ant , and t hen out of it . I n t he inst ant , I had seen a face t hat was st range t o m e, looking up wit h an incom prehensible air of being t ouched and pleased by t he sight of m e. Moving t he lam p as t he m an m oved, I m ade out t hat he was subst ant ially dressed, but roughly; like a voyager by sea. That he had long iron- grey hair. That his age was about sixt y. That he was a m uscular m an, st rong on his legs, and t hat he was browned and hardened by exposure t o weat her. As he 443
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ascended t he last st air or t wo, and t he light of m y lam p included us bot h, I saw, wit h a st upid kind of am azem ent , t hat he was holding out bot h his hands t o m e. “ Pray what is your business?” I asked him . “ My business?” he repeat ed, pausing. “ Ah! Yes. I will explain m y business, by your leave.” “ Do you wish t o com e in?” “ Yes,” he replied; “ I wish t o com e in, Mast er.” I had asked him t he quest ion inhospit ably enough, for I resent ed t he sort of bright and grat ified recognit ion t hat st ill shone in his face. I resent ed it , because it seem ed t o im ply t hat he expect ed m e t o respond t o it . But , I t ook him int o t he room I had j ust left , and, having set t he lam p on t he t able, asked him as civilly as I could, t o explain him self. He looked about him wit h t he st rangest air—an air of wondering pleasure, as if he had som e part in t he t hings he adm ired—and he pulled off a rough out er coat , and his hat . Then, I saw t hat his head was furrowed and bald, and t hat t he long iron- grey hair grew only on it s sides. But , I saw not hing t hat in t he least explained him . On t he cont rary, I saw him next m om ent , once m ore holding out bot h his hands t o m e. “ What do you m ean?” said I , half suspect ing him t o be m ad. He st opped in his looking at m e, and slowly rubbed his right hand over his head. “ I t 's disapint ing t o a m an,” he said, in a coarse broken voice, “ art er having looked for'ard so dist ant , and com e so fur; but you're not t o blam e for t hat — 444
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
neit her on us is t o blam e for t hat . I 'll speak in half a m inut e. Give m e half a m inut e, please.” He sat down on a chair t hat st ood before t he fire, and covered his forehead wit h his large brown veinous hands. I looked at him at t ent ively t hen, and recoiled a lit t le from him ; but I did not know him . “ There's no one nigh,” said he, looking over his shoulder; “ is t here?” “ Why do you, a st ranger com ing int o m y room s at t his t im e of t he night , ask t hat quest ion?” said I . “ You're a gam e one,” he ret urned, shaking his head at m e wit h a deliberat e affect ion, at once m ost unint elligible and m ost exasperat ing; “ I 'm glad you've grow'd up, a gam e one! But don't cat ch hold of m e. You'd be sorry art erwards t o have done it .” I relinquished t he int ent ion he had det ect ed, for I knew him ! Even yet , I could not recall a single feat ure, but I knew him ! I f t he wind and t he rain had driven away t he int ervening years, had scat t ered all t he int ervening obj ect s, had swept us t o t he churchyard where we first st ood face t o face on such different levels, I could not have known m y convict m ore dist inct ly t han I knew him now as he sat in t he chair before t he fire. No need t o t ake a file from his pocket and show it t o m e; no need t o t ake t he handkerchief from his neck and t wist it round his head; no need t o hug him self wit h bot h his arm s, and t ake a shivering t urn across t he room , looking back at m e for recognit ion. I knew him before he gave m e one of t hose aids, t hough, a m om ent before, I had not been conscious of rem ot ely suspect ing his ident it y. 445
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He cam e back t o where I st ood, and again held out bot h his hands. Not knowing what t o do—for, in m y ast onishm ent I had lost m y self- possession—I reluct ant ly gave him m y hands. He grasped t hem heart ily, raised t hem t o his lips, kissed t hem , and st ill held t hem . “ You act ed noble, m y boy,” said he. “ Noble, Pip! And I have never forgot it ! ” At a change in his m anner as if he were even going t o em brace m e, I laid a hand upon his breast and put him away. “ St ay! ” said I . “ Keep off! I f you are grat eful t o m e for what I did when I was a lit t le child, I hope you have shown your grat it ude by m ending your way of life. I f you have com e here t o t hank m e, it was not necessary. St ill, however you have found m e out , t here m ust be som et hing good in t he feeling t hat has brought you here, and I will not repulse you; but surely you m ust underst and t hat —I —” My at t ent ion was so at t ract ed by t he singularit y of his fixed look at m e, t hat t he words died away on m y t ongue. “ You was a saying,” he observed, when we had confront ed one anot her in silence, “ t hat surely I m ust underst and. What , surely m ust I underst and?” “ That I cannot wish t o renew t hat chance int ercourse wit h you of long ago, under t hese different circum st ances. I am glad t o believe you have repent ed and recovered yourself. I am glad t o t ell you so. I am glad t hat , t hinking I deserve t o be t hanked, you have com e t o t hank m e. But our ways are different ways, none t he less. You are wet , and you look weary. Will you drink som et hing before you go?” 446
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He had replaced his neckerchief loosely, and had st ood, keenly observant of m e, bit ing a long end of it . “ I t hink,” he answered, st ill wit h t he end at his m out h and st ill observant of m e, “ t hat I will drink ( I t hank you) afore I go.” There was a t ray ready on a side- t able. I brought it t o t he t able near t he fire, and asked him what he would have? He t ouched one of t he bot t les wit hout looking at it or speaking, and I m ade him som e hot rum - and- wat er. I t ried t o keep m y hand st eady while I did so, but his look at m e as he leaned back in his chair wit h t he long draggled end of his neckerchief bet ween his t eet h—evident ly forgot t en—m ade m y hand very difficult t o m ast er. When at last I put t he glass t o him , I saw wit h am azem ent t hat his eyes were full of t ears. Up t o t his t im e I had rem ained st anding, not t o disguise t hat I wished him gone. But I was soft ened by t he soft ened aspect of t he m an, and felt a t ouch of reproach. “ I hope,” said I , hurriedly put t ing som et hing int o a glass for m yself, and drawing a chair t o t he t able, “ t hat you will not t hink I spoke harshly t o you j ust now. I had no int ent ion of doing it , and I am sorry for it if I did. I wish you well, and happy! ” As I put m y glass t o m y lips, he glanced wit h surprise at t he end of his neckerchief, dropping from his m out h when he opened it , and st ret ched out his hand. I gave him m ine, and t hen he drank, and drew his sleeve across his eyes and forehead. “ How are you living?” I asked him . “ I 've been a sheep- farm er, st ock- breeder, ot her t rades besides, away in t he new world,” said he: “ m any a t housand m ile of st orm y wat er off from t his.” 447
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I hope you have done well?” “ I 've done wonderfully well. There's ot hers went out alonger m e as has done well t oo, but no m an has done nigh as well as m e. I 'm fam ous for it .” “ I am glad t o hear it .” “ I hope t o hear you say so, m y dear boy.” Wit hout st opping t o t ry t o underst and t hose words or t he t one in which t hey were spoken, I t urned off t o a point t hat had j ust com e int o m y m ind. “ Have you ever seen a m essenger you once sent t o m e,” I inquired, “ since he undert ook t hat t rust ?” “ Never set eyes upon him . I warn't likely t o it .” “ He cam e fait hfully, and he brought m e t he t wo one- pound not es. I was a poor boy t hen, as you know, and t o a poor boy t hey were a lit t le fort une. But , like you, I have done well since, and you m ust let m e pay t hem back. You can put t hem t o som e ot her poor boy's use.” I t ook out m y purse. He wat ched m e as I laid m y purse upon t he t able and opened it , and he wat ched m e as I separat ed t wo one- pound not es from it s cont ent s. They were clean and new, and I spread t hem out and handed t hem over t o him . St ill wat ching m e, he laid t hem one upon t he ot her, folded t hem long- wise, gave t hem a t wist , set fire t o t hem at t he lam p, and dropped t he ashes int o t he t ray. “ May I m ake so bold,” he said t hen, wit h a sm ile t hat was like a frown, and wit h a frown t hat was like a sm ile, “ as ask you how you have done well, since you and m e was out on t hem lone shivering m arshes?” “ How?” 448
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Ah! ” He em pt ied his glass, got up, and st ood at t he side of t he fire, wit h his heavy brown hand on t he m ant elshelf. He put a foot up t o t he bars, t o dry and warm it , and t he wet boot began t o st eam ; but , he neit her looked at it , nor at t he fire, but st eadily looked at m e. I t was only now t hat I began t o t rem ble. When m y lips had part ed, and had shaped som e words t hat were wit hout sound, I forced m yself t o t ell him ( t hough I could not do it dist inct ly) , t hat I had been chosen t o succeed t o som e propert y. “ Might a m ere warm int ask what propert y?” said he. I falt ered, “ I don't know.” “ Might a m ere warm int ask whose propert y?” said he. I falt ered again, “ I don't know.” “ Could I m ake a guess, I wonder,” said t he Convict , “ at your incom e since you com e of age! As t o t he first figure now. Five?” Wit h m y heart beat ing like a heavy ham m er of disordered act ion, I rose out of m y chair, and st ood wit h m y hand upon t he back of it , looking wildly at him . “ Concerning a guardian,” he went on. “ There ought t o have been som e guardian, or such- like, whiles you was a m inor. Som e lawyer, m aybe. As t o t he first let t er of t hat lawyer's nam e now. Would it be J?” All t he t rut h of m y posit ion cam e flashing on m e; and it s disappoint m ent s, dangers, disgraces, consequences of all kinds, rushed in in such a m ult it ude t hat I was borne down by t hem and had t o st ruggle for every breat h I drew. 449
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Put it ,” he resum ed, “ as t he em ployer of t hat lawyer whose nam e begun wit h a J, and m ight be Jaggers—put it as he had com e over sea t o Port sm out h, and had landed t here, and had want ed t o com e on t o you. ‘However, you have found m e out ,’ you says j ust now. Well! However, did I find you out ? Why, I wrot e from Port sm out h t o a person in London, for part iculars of your address. That person's nam e? Why, Wem m ick.” I could not have spoken one word, t hough it had been t o save m y life. I st ood, wit h a hand on t he chair- back and a hand on m y breast , where I seem ed t o be suffocat ing—I st ood so, looking wildly at him , unt il I grasped at t he chair, when t he room began t o surge and t urn. He caught m e, drew m e t o t he sofa, put m e up against t he cushions, and bent on one knee before m e: bringing t he face t hat I now well rem em bered, and t hat I shuddered at , very near t o m ine. “ Yes, Pip, dear boy, I 've m ade a gent lem an on you! I t 's m e wot has done it ! I swore t hat t im e, sure as ever I earned a guinea, t hat guinea should go t o you. I swore art erwards, sure as ever I spec'lat ed and got rich, you should get rich. I lived rough, t hat you should live sm oot h; I worked hard, t hat you should be above work. What odds, dear boy? Do I t ell it , fur you t o feel a obligat ion? Not a bit . I t ell it , fur you t o know as t hat t here hunt ed dunghill dog wot you kep life in, got his head so high t hat he could m ake a gent lem an—and, Pip, you're him ! ” The abhorrence in which I held t he m an, t he dread I had of him , t he repugnance wit h which I shrank from him , could not have been exceeded if he had been som e t errible beast . 450
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Look'ee here, Pip. I 'm your second fat her. You're m y son—m ore t o m e nor any son. I 've put away m oney, only for you t o spend. When I was a hired- out shepherd in a solit ary hut , not seeing no faces but faces of sheep t ill I half forgot wot m en's and wom en's faces wos like, I see yourn. I drops m y knife m any a t im e in t hat hut when I was a- eat ing m y dinner or m y supper, and I says, ‘Here's t he boy again, alooking at m e whiles I eat s and drinks! ’ I see you t here a m any t im es, as plain as ever I see you on t hem m ist y m arshes. ‘Lord st rike m e dead! ’ I says each t im e—and I goes out in t he air t o say it under t he open heavens—'but wot , if I get s libert y and m oney, I 'll m ake t hat boy a gent lem an! ’ And I done it . Why, look at you, dear boy! Look at t hese here lodgings o'yourn, fit for a lord! A lord? Ah! You shall show m oney wit h lords for wagers, and beat ‘em ! ” I n his heat and t rium ph, and in his knowledge t hat I had been nearly faint ing, he did not rem ark on m y recept ion of all t his. I t was t he one grain of relief I had. “ Look'ee here! ” he went on, t aking m y wat ch out of m y pocket , and t urning t owards him a ring on m y finger, while I recoiled from his t ouch as if he had been a snake, “ a gold ‘un and a beaut y: t hat 's a gent lem an's, I hope! A diam ond all set round wit h rubies; t hat 's a gent lem an's, I hope! Look at your linen; fine and beaut iful! Look at your clot hes; bet t er ain't t o be got ! And your books t oo,” t urning his eyes round t he room , “ m ount ing up, on t heir shelves, by hundreds! And you read ‘em ; don't you? I see you'd been a reading of ‘em when I com e in. Ha, ha, ha! You shall read ‘em t o m e, dear boy! 451
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
And if t hey're in foreign languages wot I don't underst and, I shall be j ust as proud as if I did.” Again he t ook bot h m y hands and put t hem t o his lips, while m y blood ran cold wit hin m e. “ Don't you m ind t alking, Pip,” said he, aft er again drawing his sleeve over his eyes and forehead, as t he click cam e in his t hroat which I well rem em bered—and he was all t he m ore horrible t o m e t hat he was so m uch in earnest ; “ you can't do bet t er nor keep quiet , dear boy. You ain't looked slowly forward t o t his as I have; you wosn't prepared for t his, as I wos. But didn't you never t hink it m ight be m e?” “ O no, no, no,” I ret urned, “ Never, never! ” “ Well, you see it wos m e, and single- handed. Never a soul in it but m y own self and Mr. Jaggers.” “ Was t here no one else?” I asked. “ No,” said he, wit h a glance of surprise: “ who else should t here be? And, dear boy, how good looking you have growed! There's bright eyes som ewheres—eh? I sn't t here bright eyes som ewheres, wot you love t he t hought s on?” O Est ella, Est ella! “ They shall be yourn, dear boy, if m oney can buy ‘em . Not t hat a gent lem an like you, so well set up as you, can't win ‘em off of his own gam e; but m oney shall back you! Let m e finish wot I was a- t elling you, dear boy. From t hat t here hut and t hat t here hiring- out , I got m oney left m e by m y m ast er ( which died, and had been t he sam e as m e) , and got m y libert y and went for m yself. I n every single t hing I went for, I went for you. ‘Lord st rike a blight upon it ,’ I says, wot ever it was I went for, ‘if it ain't for him ! ’ I t all prospered wonderful. 452
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
As I giv’ you t o underst and j ust now, I 'm fam ous for it . I t was t he m oney left m e, and t he gains of t he first few year wot I sent hom e t o Mr. Jaggers—all for you—when he first com e art er you, agreeable t o m y let t er.” O, t hat he had never com e! That he had left m e at t he forge—far from cont ent ed, yet , by com parison happy! “ And t hen, dear boy, it was a recom pense t o m e, look'ee here, t o know in secret t hat I was m aking a gent lem an. The blood horses of t hem colonist s m ight fling up t he dust over m e as I was walking; what do I say? I says t o m yself, ‘I 'm m aking a bet t er gent lem an nor ever you'll be! ’ When one of ‘em says t o anot her, ‘He was a convict , a few year ago, and is a ignorant com m on fellow now, for all he's lucky,’ what do I say? I says t o m yself, ‘I f I ain't a gent lem an, nor yet ain't got no learning, I 'm t he owner of such. All on you owns st ock and land; which on you owns a brought - up London gent lem an?’ This way I kep m yself a- going. And t his way I held st eady afore m y m ind t hat I would for cert ain com e one day and see m y boy, and m ake m yself known t o him , on his own ground.” He laid his hand on m y shoulder. I shuddered at t he t hought t hat for anyt hing I knew, his hand m ight be st ained wit h blood. “ I t warn't easy, Pip, for m e t o leave t hem part s, nor yet it warn't safe. But I held t o it , and t he harder it was, t he st ronger I held, for I was det erm ined, and m y m ind firm m ade up. At last I done it . Dear boy, I done it ! ” I t ried t o collect m y t hought s, but I was st unned. Throughout , I had seem ed t o m yself t o at t end m ore t o t he wind and t he rain t han t o him ; even now, I could not separat e 453
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
his voice from t hose voices, t hough t hose were loud and his was silent . “ Where will you put m e?” he asked, present ly. “ I m ust be put som ewheres, dear boy.” “ To sleep?” said I . “ Yes. And t o sleep long and sound,” he answered; “ for I 've been sea- t ossed and sea- washed, m ont hs and m ont hs.” “ My friend and com panion,” said I , rising from t he sofa, “ is absent ; you m ust have his room .” “ He won't com e back t o- m orrow; will he?” “ No,” said I , answering alm ost m echanically, in spit e of m y ut m ost effort s; “ not t o- m orrow.” “ Because, look'ee here, dear boy,” he said, dropping his voice, and laying a long finger on m y breast in an im pressive m anner, “ caut ion is necessary.” “ How do you m ean? Caut ion?” “ By G—, it 's Deat h! ” “ What 's deat h?” “ I was sent for life. I t 's deat h t o com e back. There's been overm uch com ing back of lat e years, and I should of a cert aint y be hanged if t ook.” Not hing was needed but t his; t he wret ched m an, aft er loading wret ched m e wit h his gold and silver chains for years, had risked his life t o com e t o m e, and I held it t here in m y keeping! I f I had loved him inst ead of abhorring him ; if I had been at t ract ed t o him by t he st rongest adm irat ion and affect ion, inst ead of shrinking from him wit h t he st rongest repugnance; it could have been no worse. On t he cont rary, it 454
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
would have been bet t er, for his preservat ion would t hen have nat urally and t enderly addressed m y heart . My first care was t o close t he shut t ers, so t hat no light m ight be seen from wit hout , and t hen t o close and m ake fast t he doors. While I did so, he st ood at t he t able drinking rum and eat ing biscuit ; and when I saw him t hus engaged, I saw m y convict on t he m arshes at his m eal again. I t alm ost seem ed t o m e as if he m ust st oop down present ly, t o file at his leg. When I had gone int o Herbert 's room , and had shut off any ot her com m unicat ion bet ween it and t he st aircase t han t hrough t he room in which our conversat ion had been held, I asked him if he would go t o bed? He said yes, but asked m e for som e of m y “ gent lem an's linen” t o put on in t he m orning. I brought it out , and laid it ready for him , and m y blood again ran cold when he again t ook m e by bot h hands t o give m e good night . I got away from him , wit hout knowing how I did it , and m ended t he fire in t he room where we had been t oget her, and sat down by it , afraid t o go t o bed. For an hour or m ore, I rem ained t oo st unned t o t hink; and it was not unt il I began t o t hink, t hat I began fully t o know how wrecked I was, and how t he ship in which I had sailed was gone t o pieces. Miss Havisham 's int ent ions t owards m e, all a m ere dream ; Est ella not designed for m e; I only suffered in Sat is House as a convenience, a st ing for t he greedy relat ions, a m odel wit h a m echanical heart t o pract ise on when no ot her pract ice was at hand; t hose were t he first sm art s I had. But , sharpest and deepest pain of all—it was for t he convict , guilt y of I knew not 455
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
what crim es, and liable t o be t aken out of t hose room s where I sat t hinking, and hanged at t he Old Bailey door, t hat I had desert ed Joe. I would not have gone back t o Joe now, I would not have gone back t o Biddy now, for any considerat ion: sim ply, I suppose, because m y sense of m y own wort hless conduct t o t hem was great er t han every considerat ion. No wisdom on eart h could have given m e t he com fort t hat I should have derived from t heir sim plicit y and fidelit y; but I could never, never, undo what I had done. I n every rage of wind and rush of rain, I heard pursuers. Twice, I could have sworn t here was a knocking and whispering at t he out er door. Wit h t hese fears upon m e, I began eit her t o im agine or recall t hat I had had m yst erious warnings of t his m an's approach. That , for weeks gone by, I had passed faces in t he st reet s which I had t hought like his. That , t hese likenesses had grown m ore num erous, as he, com ing over t he sea, had drawn nearer. That , his wicked spirit had som ehow sent t hese m essengers t o m ine, and t hat now on t his st orm y night he was as good as his word, and wit h m e. Crowding up wit h t hese reflect ions cam e t he reflect ion t hat I had seen him wit h m y childish eyes t o be a desperat ely violent m an; t hat I had heard t hat ot her convict reit erat e t hat he had t ried t o m urder him ; t hat I had seen him down in t he dit ch t earing and fight ing like a wild beast . Out of such rem em brances I brought int o t he light of t he fire, a halfform ed t error t hat it m ight not be safe t o be shut up t here wit h him in t he dead of t he wild solit ary night . This dilat ed 456
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
unt il it filled t he room , and im pelled m e t o t ake a candle and go in and look at m y dreadful burden. He had rolled a handkerchief round his head, and his face was set and lowering in his sleep. But he was asleep, and quiet ly t oo, t hough he had a pist ol lying on t he pillow. Assured of t his, I soft ly rem oved t he key t o t he out side of his door, and t urned it on him before I again sat down by t he fire. Gradually I slipped from t he chair and lay on t he floor. When I awoke, wit hout having part ed in m y sleep wit h t he percept ion of m y wret chedness, t he clocks of t he East ward churches were st riking five, t he candles were wast ed out , t he fire was dead, and t he wind and rain int ensified t he t hick black darkness. THI S I S THE END OF THE SECOND STAGE OF PI P'S EXPECTATI ONS.
457
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 40 I t was fort unat e for m e t hat I had t o t ake precaut ions t o ensure ( so far as I could) t he safet y of m y dreaded visit or; for, t his t hought pressing on m e when I awoke, held ot her t hought s in a confused concourse at a dist ance. The im possibilit y of keeping him concealed in t he cham bers was self- evident . I t could not be done, and t he at t em pt t o do it would inevit ably engender suspicion. True, I had no Avenger in m y service now, but I was looked aft er by an inflam m at ory old fem ale, assist ed by an anim at ed rag- bag whom she called her niece, and t o keep a room secret from t hem would be t o invit e curiosit y and exaggerat ion. They bot h had weak eyes, which I had long at t ribut ed t o t heir chronically looking in at keyholes, and t hey were always at hand when not want ed; indeed t hat was t heir only reliable qualit y besides larceny. Not t o get up a m yst ery wit h t hese people, I resolved t o announce in t he m orning t hat m y uncle had unexpect edly com e from t he count ry. This course I decided on while I was yet groping about in t he darkness for t he m eans of get t ing a light . Not st um bling on t he m eans aft er all, I was fain t o go out t o t he adj acent Lodge and get t he wat chm an t here t o com e wit h his lant ern. Now, in groping m y way down t he black st aircase I fell over som et hing, and t hat som et hing was a m an crouching in a corner. As t he m an m ade no answer when I asked him what he did t here, but eluded m y t ouch in silence, I ran t o t he Lodge and 458
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
urged t he wat chm an t o com e quickly: t elling him of t he incident on t he way back. The wind being as fierce as ever, we did not care t o endanger t he light in t he lant ern by rekindling t he ext inguished lam ps on t he st aircase, but we exam ined t he st aircase from t he bot t om t o t he t op and found no one t here. I t t hen occurred t o m e as possible t hat t he m an m ight have slipped int o m y room s; so, light ing m y candle at t he wat chm an's, and leaving him st anding at t he door, I exam ined t hem carefully, including t he room in which m y dreaded guest lay asleep. All was quiet , and assuredly no ot her m an was in t hose cham bers. I t t roubled m e t hat t here should have been a lurker on t he st airs, on t hat night of all night s in t he year, and I asked t he wat chm an, on t he chance of elicit ing som e hopeful explanat ion as I handed him a dram at t he door, whet her he had adm it t ed at his gat e any gent lem an who had percept ibly been dining out ? Yes, he said; at different t im es of t he night , t hree. One lived in Fount ain Court , and t he ot her t wo lived in t he Lane, and he had seen t hem all go hom e. Again, t he only ot her m an who dwelt in t he house of which m y cham bers form ed a part , had been in t he count ry for som e weeks; and he cert ainly had not ret urned in t he night , because we had seen his door wit h his seal on it as we cam e up- st airs. “ The night being so bad, sir,” said t he wat chm an, as he gave m e back m y glass, “ uncom m on few have com e in at m y gat e. Besides t hem t hree gent lem en t hat I have nam ed, I don't call t o m ind anot her since about eleven o'clock, when a st ranger asked for you.” “ My uncle,” I m ut t ered. “ Yes.” 459
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You saw him , sir?” “ Yes. Oh yes.” “ Likewise t he person wit h him ?” “ Person wit h him ! ” I repeat ed. “ I j udged t he person t o be wit h him ,” ret urned t he wat chm an. “ The person st opped, when he st opped t o m ake inquiry of m e, and t he person t ook t his way when he t ook t his way.” “ What sort of person?” The wat chm an had not part icularly not iced; he should say a working person; t o t he best of his belief, he had a dust coloured kind of clot hes on, under a dark coat . The wat chm an m ade m ore light of t he m at t er t han I did, and nat urally; not having m y reason for at t aching weight t o it . When I had got rid of him , which I t hought it well t o do wit hout prolonging explanat ions, m y m ind was m uch t roubled by t hese t wo circum st ances t aken t oget her. Whereas t hey were easy of innocent solut ion apart —as, for inst ance, som e diner- out or diner- at - hom e, who had not gone near t his wat chm an's gat e, m ight have st rayed t o m y st aircase and dropped asleep t here—and m y nam eless visit or m ight have brought som e one wit h him t o show him t he way—st ill, j oined, t hey had an ugly look t o one as prone t o dist rust and fear as t he changes of a few hours had m ade m e. I light ed m y fire, which burnt wit h a raw pale flare at t hat t im e of t he m orning, and fell int o a doze before it . I seem ed t o have been dozing a whole night when t he clocks st ruck six. As t here was full an hour and a half bet ween m e and daylight , I dozed again; now, waking up uneasily, wit h prolix 460
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
conversat ions about not hing, in m y ears; now, m aking t hunder of t he wind in t he chim ney; at lengt h, falling off int o a profound sleep from which t he daylight woke m e wit h a st art . All t his t im e I had never been able t o consider m y own sit uat ion, nor could I do so yet . I had not t he power t o at t end t o it . I was great ly dej ect ed and dist ressed, but in an incoherent wholesale sort of way. As t o form ing any plan for t he fut ure, I could as soon have form ed an elephant . When I opened t he shut t ers and looked out at t he wet wild m orning, all of a leaden hue; when I walked from room t o room ; when I sat down again shivering, before t he fire, wait ing for m y laundress t o appear; I t hought how m iserable I was, but hardly knew why, or how long I had been so, or on what day of t he week I m ade t he reflect ion, or even who I was t hat m ade it . At last , t he old wom an and t he niece cam e in—t he lat t er wit h a head not easily dist inguishable from her dust y broom — and t est ified surprise at sight of m e and t he fire. To whom I im part ed how m y uncle had com e in t he night and was t hen asleep, and how t he breakfast preparat ions were t o be m odified accordingly. Then, I washed and dressed while t hey knocked t he furnit ure about and m ade a dust ; and so, in a sort of dream or sleep- waking, I found m yself sit t ing by t he fire again, wait ing for—Him —t o com e t o breakfast . By- and- by, his door opened and he cam e out . I could not bring m yself t o bear t he sight of him , and I t hought he had a worse look by daylight . 461
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I do not even know,” said I , speaking low as he t ook his seat at t he t able, “ by what nam e t o call you. I have given out t hat you are m y uncle.” “ That 's it , dear boy! Call m e uncle.” “ You assum ed som e nam e, I suppose, on board ship?” “ Yes, dear boy. I t ook t he nam e of Provis.” “ Do you m ean t o keep t hat nam e?” “ Why, yes, dear boy, it 's as good as anot her—unless you'd like anot her.” “ What is your real nam e?” I asked him in a whisper. “ Magwit ch,” he answered, in t he sam e t one; “ chrisen'd Abel.” “ What were you brought up t o be?” “ A warm int , dear boy.” He answered quit e seriously, and used t he word as if it denot ed som e profession. “ When you cam e int o t he Tem ple last night —” said I , pausing t o wonder whet her t hat could really have been last night , which seem ed so long ago. “ Yes, dear boy?” “ When you cam e in at t he gat e and asked t he wat chm an t he way here, had you any one wit h you?” “ Wit h m e? No, dear boy.” “ But t here was som e one t here?” “ I didn't t ake part icular not ice,” he said, dubiously, “ not knowing t he ways of t he place. But I t hink t here was a person, t oo, com e in alonger m e.” “ Are you known in London?” 462
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I hope not ! ” said he, giving his neck a j erk wit h his forefinger t hat m ade m e t urn hot and sick. “ Were you known in London, once?” “ Not over and above, dear boy. I was in t he provinces m ost ly.” “ Were you—t ried—in London?” “ Which t im e?” said he, wit h a sharp look. “ The last t im e.” He nodded. “ First knowed Mr. Jaggers t hat way. Jaggers was for m e.” I t was on m y lips t o ask him what he was t ried for, but he t ook up a knife, gave it a flourish, and wit h t he words, “ And what I done is worked out and paid for! ” fell t o at his breakfast . He at e in a ravenous way t hat was very disagreeable, and all his act ions were uncout h, noisy, and greedy. Som e of his t eet h had failed him since I saw him eat on t he m arshes, and as he t urned his food in his m out h, and t urned his head sideways t o bring his st rongest fangs t o bear upon it , he looked t erribly like a hungry old dog. I f I had begun wit h any appet it e, he would have t aken it away, and I should have sat m uch as I did—repelled from him by an insurm ount able aversion, and gloom ily looking at t he clot h. “ I 'm a heavy grubber, dear boy,” he said, as a polit e kind of apology when he m ade an end of his m eal, “ but I always was. I f it had been in m y const it ut ion t o be a light er grubber, I m ight ha’ got int o light er t rouble. Sim ilarly, I m ust have m y sm oke. When I was first hired out as shepherd t 'ot her side 463
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he world, it 's m y belief I should ha’ t urned int o a m olloncollym ad sheep m yself, if I hadn't a had m y sm oke.” As he said so, he got up from t he t able, and put t ing his hand int o t he breast of t he pea- coat he wore, brought out a short black pipe, and a handful of loose t obacco of t he kind t hat is called Negro- head. Having filled his pipe, he put t he surplus t obacco back again, as if his pocket were a drawer. Then, he t ook a live coal from t he fire wit h t he t ongs, and light ed his pipe at it , and t hen t urned round on t he heart h- rug wit h his back t o t he fire, and went t hrough his favourit e act ion of holding out bot h his hands for m ine. “ And t his,” said he, dandling m y hands up and down in his, as he puffed at his pipe; “ and t his is t he gent lem an what I m ade! The real genuine One! I t does m e good fur t o look at you, Pip. All I st ip'lat e, is, t o st and by and look at you, dear boy! ” I released m y hands as soon as I could, and found t hat I was beginning slowly t o set t le down t o t he cont em plat ion of m y condit ion. What I was chained t o, and how heavily, becam e int elligible t o m e, as I heard his hoarse voice, and sat looking up at his furrowed bald head wit h it s iron grey hair at t he sides. “ I m ust n't see m y gent lem an a foot ing it in t he m ire of t he st reet s; t here m ust n't be no m ud on his boot s. My gent lem an m ust have horses, Pip! Horses t o ride, and horses t o drive, and horses for his servant t o ride and drive as well. Shall colonist s have t heir horses ( and blood ‘uns, if you please, good Lord! ) and not m y London gent lem an? No, no. We'll show ‘em anot her pair of shoes t han t hat , Pip; won't us?” 464
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He t ook out of his pocket a great t hick pocket - book, burst ing wit h papers, and t ossed it on t he t able. “ There's som et hing wort h spending in t hat t here book, dear boy. I t 's yourn. All I 've got ain't m ine; it 's yourn. Don't you be afeerd on it . There's m ore where t hat com e from . I 've com e t o t he old count ry fur t o see m y gent lem an spend his m oney like a gent lem an. That 'll be m y pleasure. My pleasure ‘ull be fur t o see him do it . And blast you all! ” he wound up, looking round t he room and snapping his fingers once wit h a loud snap, “ blast you every one, from t he j udge in his wig, t o t he colonist a st irring up t he dust , I 'll show a bet t er gent lem an t han t he whole kit on you put t oget her! ” “ St op! ” said I , alm ost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, “ I want t o speak t o you. I want t o know what is t o be done. I want t o know how you are t o be kept out of danger, how long you are going t o st ay, what proj ect s you have.” “ Look'ee here, Pip,” said he, laying his hand on m y arm in a suddenly alt ered and subdued m anner; “ first of all, look'ee here. I forgot m yself half a m inut e ago. What I said was low; t hat 's what it was; low. Look'ee here, Pip. Look over it . I ain't a- going t o be low.” “ First ,” I resum ed, half- groaning, “ what precaut ions can be t aken against your being recognized and seized?” “ No, dear boy,” he said, in t he sam e t one as before, “ t hat don't go first . Lowness goes first . I ain't t ook so m any years t o m ake a gent lem an, not wit hout knowing what 's due t o him . Look'ee here, Pip. I was low; t hat 's what I was; low. Look over it , dear boy.” 465
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Som e sense of t he grim ly- ludicrous m oved m e t o a fret ful laugh, as I replied, “ I have looked over it . I n Heaven's nam e, don't harp upon it ! ” “ Yes, but look'ee here,” he persist ed. “ Dear boy, I ain't com e so fur, not fur t o be low. Now, go on, dear boy. You was a- saying—” “ How are you t o be guarded from t he danger you have incurred?” “ Well, dear boy, t he danger ain't so great . Wit hout I was inform ed agen, t he danger ain't so m uch t o signify. There's Jaggers, and t here's Wem m ick, and t here's you. Who else is t here t o inform ?” “ I s t here no chance person who m ight ident ify you in t he st reet ?” said I . “ Well,” he ret urned, “ t here ain't m any. Nor yet I don't int end t o advert ise m yself in t he newspapers by t he nam e of A. M. com e back from Bot any Bay; and years have rolled away, and who's t o gain by it ? St ill, look'ee here, Pip. I f t he danger had been fift y t im es as great , I should ha’ com e t o see you, m ind you, j ust t he sam e.” “ And how long do you rem ain?” “ How long?” said he, t aking his black pipe from his m out h, and dropping his j aw as he st ared at m e. “ I 'm not a- going back. I 've com e for good.” “ Where are you t o live?” said I . “ What is t o be done wit h you? Where will you be safe?” “ Dear boy,” he ret urned, “ t here's disguising wigs can be bought for m oney, and t here's hair powder, and spect acles, and black clot hes—short s and what not . Ot hers has done it 466
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
safe afore, and what ot hers has done afore, ot hers can do agen. As t o t he where and how of living, dear boy, give m e your own opinions on it .” “ You t ake it sm oot hly now,” said I , “ but you were very serious last night , when you swore it was Deat h.” “ And so I swear it is Deat h,” said he, put t ing his pipe back in his m out h, “ and Deat h by t he rope, in t he open st reet not fur from t his, and it 's serious t hat you should fully underst and it t o be so. What t hen, when t hat 's once done? Here I am . To go back now, ‘ud be as bad as t o st and ground—worse. Besides, Pip, I 'm here, because I 've m eant it by you, years and years. As t o what I dare, I 'm a old bird now, as has dared all m anner of t raps since first he was fledged, and I 'm not afeerd t o perch upon a scarecrow. I f t here's Deat h hid inside of it , t here is, and let him com e out , and I 'll face him , and t hen I 'll believe in him and not afore. And now let m e have a look at m y gent lem an agen.” Once m ore, he t ook m e by bot h hands and surveyed m e wit h an air of adm iring propriet orship: sm oking wit h great com placency all t he while. I t appeared t o m e t hat I could do no bet t er t han secure him som e quiet lodging hard by, of which he m ight t ake possession when Herbert ret urned: whom I expect ed in t wo or t hree days. That t he secret m ust be confided t o Herbert as a m at t er of unavoidable necessit y, even if I could have put t he im m ense relief I should derive from sharing it wit h him out of t he quest ion, was plain t o m e. But it was by no m eans so plain t o Mr. Provis ( I resolved t o call him by t hat nam e) , who reserved his consent t o Herbert 's part icipat ion unt il he 467
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
should have seen him and form ed a favourable j udgm ent of his physiognom y. “ And even t hen, dear boy,” said he, pulling a greasy lit t le clasped black Test am ent out of his pocket , “ we'll have him on his oat h.” To st at e t hat m y t errible pat ron carried t his lit t le black book about t he world solely t o swear people on in cases of em ergency, would be t o st at e what I never quit e est ablished—but t his I can say, t hat I never knew him put it t o any ot her use. The book it self had t he appearance of having been st olen from som e court of j ust ice, and perhaps his knowledge of it s ant ecedent s, com bined wit h his own experience in t hat wise, gave him a reliance on it s powers as a sort of legal spell or charm . On t his first occasion of his producing it , I recalled how he had m ade m e swear fidelit y in t he churchyard long ago, and how he had described him self last night as always swearing t o his resolut ions in his solit ude. As he was at present dressed in a seafaring slop suit , in which he looked as if he had som e parrot s and cigars t o dispose of, I next discussed wit h him what dress he should wear. He cherished an ext raordinary belief in t he virt ues of “ short s” as a disguise, and had in his own m ind sket ched a dress for him self t hat would have m ade him som et hing bet ween a dean and a dent ist . I t was wit h considerable difficult y t hat I won him over t o t he assum pt ion of a dress m ore like a prosperous farm er's; and we arranged t hat he should cut his hair close, and wear a lit t le powder. Last ly, as he had not yet been seen by t he laundress or her niece, he was t o keep him self out of t heir view unt il his change of dress was m ade. 468
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t would seem a sim ple m at t er t o decide on t hese precaut ions; but in m y dazed, not t o say dist ract ed, st at e, it t ook so long, t hat I did not get out t o furt her t hem , unt il t wo or t hree in t he aft ernoon. He was t o rem ain shut up in t he cham bers while I was gone, and was on no account t o open t he door. There being t o m y knowledge a respect able lodging- house in Essex- st reet , t he back of which looked int o t he Tem ple, and was alm ost wit hin hail of m y windows, I first of all repaired t o t hat house, and was so fort unat e as t o secure t he second floor for m y uncle, Mr. Provis. I t hen went from shop t o shop, m aking such purchases as were necessary t o t he change in his appearance. This business t ransact ed, I t urned m y face, on m y own account , t o Lit t le Brit ain. Mr. Jaggers was at his desk, but , seeing m e ent er, got up im m ediat ely and st ood before his fire. “ Now, Pip,” said he, “ be careful.” “ I will, sir,” I ret urned. For, com ing along I had t hought well of what I was going t o say. “ Don't com m it yourself,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ and don't com m it any one. You underst and—any one. Don't t ell m e anyt hing: I don't want t o know anyt hing; I am not curious.” Of course I saw t hat he knew t he m an was com e. “ I m erely want , Mr. Jaggers,” said I , “ t o assure m yself t hat what I have been t old, is t rue. I have no hope of it s being unt rue, but at least I m ay verify it .” Mr. Jaggers nodded. “ But did you say ‘t old’ or ‘inform ed'?” he asked m e, wit h his head on one side, and not looking at m e, but looking in a list ening way at t he floor. “ Told would 469
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
seem t o im ply verbal com m unicat ion. You can't have verbal com m unicat ion wit h a m an in New Sout h Wales, you know.” “ I will say, inform ed, Mr. Jaggers.” “ Good.” “ I have been inform ed by a person nam ed Abel Magwit ch, t hat he is t he benefact or so long unknown t o m e.” “ That is t he m an,” said Mr. Jaggers," —in New Sout h Wales.” “ And only he?” said I . “ And only he,” said Mr. Jaggers. “ I am not so unreasonable, sir, as t o t hink you at all responsible for m y m ist akes and wrong conclusions; but I always supposed it was Miss Havisham .” “ As you say, Pip,” ret urned Mr. Jaggers, t urning his eyes upon m e coolly, and t aking a bit e at his forefinger, “ I am not at all responsible for t hat .” “ And yet it looked so like it , sir,” I pleaded wit h a downcast heart . “ Not a part icle of evidence, Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, shaking his head and gat hering up his skirt s. “ Take not hing on it s looks; t ake everyt hing on evidence. There's no bet t er rule.” “ I have no m ore t o say,” said I , wit h a sigh, aft er st anding silent for a lit t le while. “ I have verified m y inform at ion, and t here's an end.” “ And Magwit ch—in New Sout h Wales—having at last disclosed him self,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ you will com prehend, Pip, how rigidly t hroughout m y com m unicat ion wit h you, I have always adhered t o t he st rict line of fact . There has never 470
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
been t he least depart ure from t he st rict line of fact . You are quit e aware of t hat ?” “ Quit e, sir.” “ I com m unicat ed t o Magwit ch—in New Sout h Wales—when he first wrot e t o m e—from New Sout h Wales—t he caut ion t hat he m ust not expect m e ever t o deviat e from t he st rict line of fact . I also com m unicat ed t o him anot her caut ion. He appeared t o m e t o have obscurely hint ed in his let t er at som e dist ant idea he had of seeing you in England here. I caut ioned him t hat I m ust hear no m ore of t hat ; t hat he was not at all likely t o obt ain a pardon; t hat he was expat riat ed for t he t erm of his nat ural life; and t hat his present ing him self in t his count ry would be an act of felony, rendering him liable t o t he ext rem e penalt y of t he law. I gave Magwit ch t hat caut ion,” said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at m e; “ I wrot e it t o New Sout h Wales. He guided him self by it , no doubt .” “ No doubt ,” said I . “ I have been inform ed by Wem m ick,” pursued Mr. Jaggers, st ill looking hard at m e, “ t hat he has received a let t er, under dat e Port sm out h, from a colonist of t he nam e of Purvis, or—” “ Or Provis,” I suggest ed. “ Or Provis—t hank you, Pip. Perhaps it is Provis? Perhaps you know it 's Provis?” “ Yes,” said I . “ You know it 's Provis. A let t er, under dat e Port sm out h, from a colonist of t he nam e of Provis, asking for t he part iculars of your address, on behalf of Magwit ch. Wem m ick sent him t he part iculars, I underst and, by ret urn of post . 471
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Probably it is t hrough Provis t hat you have received t he explanat ion of Magwit ch—in New Sout h Wales?” “ I t cam e t hrough Provis,” I replied. “ Good day, Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, offering his hand; “ glad t o have seen you. I n writ ing by post t o Magwit ch—in New Sout h Wales—or in com m unicat ing wit h him t hrough Provis, have t he goodness t o m ent ion t hat t he part iculars and vouchers of our long account shall be sent t o you, t oget her wit h t he balance; for t here is st ill a balance rem aining. Good day, Pip! ” We shook hands, and he looked hard at m e as long as he could see m e. I t urned at t he door, and he was st ill looking hard at m e, while t he t wo vile cast s on t he shelf seem ed t o be t rying t o get t heir eyelids open, and t o force out of t heir swollen t hroat s, “ O, what a m an he is! ” Wem m ick was out , and t hough he had been at his desk he could have done not hing for m e. I went st raight back t o t he Tem ple, where I found t he t errible Provis drinking rum - andwat er and sm oking negro- head, in safet y. Next day t he clot hes I had ordered, all cam e hom e, and he put t hem on. What ever he put on, becam e him less ( it dism ally seem ed t o m e) t han what he had worn before. To m y t hinking, t here was som et hing in him t hat m ade it hopeless t o at t em pt t o disguise him . The m ore I dressed him and t he bet t er I dressed him , t he m ore he looked like t he slouching fugit ive on t he m arshes. This effect on m y anxious fancy was part ly referable, no doubt , t o his old face and m anner growing m ore fam iliar t o m e; but I believe t oo t hat he dragged one of his legs as if t here were st ill a weight of 472
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
iron on it , and t hat from head t o foot t here was Convict in t he very grain of t he m an. The influences of his solit ary hut - life were upon him besides, and gave him a savage air t hat no dress could t am e; added t o t hese, were t he influences of his subsequent branded life am ong m en, and, crowning all, his consciousness t hat he was dodging and hiding now. I n all his ways of sit t ing and st anding, and eat ing and drinking—of brooding about , in a high- shouldered reluct ant st yle—of t aking out his great horn- handled j ack- knife and wiping it on his legs and cut t ing his food—of lift ing light glasses and cups t o his lips, as if t hey were clum sy pannikins—of chopping a wedge off his bread, and soaking up wit h it t he last fragm ent s of gravy round and round his plat e, as if t o m ake t he m ost of an allowance, and t hen drying his finger- ends on it , and t hen swallowing it —in t hese ways and a t housand ot her sm all nam eless inst ances arising every m inut e in t he day, t here was Prisoner, Felon, Bondsm an, plain as plain could be. I t had been his own idea t o wear t hat t ouch of powder, and I had conceded t he powder aft er overcom ing t he short s. But I can com pare t he effect of it , when on, t o not hing but t he probable effect of rouge upon t he dead; so awful was t he m anner in which everyt hing in him t hat it was m ost desirable t o repress, st art ed t hrough t hat t hin layer of pret ence, and seem ed t o com e blazing out at t he crown of his head. I t was abandoned as soon as t ried, and he wore his grizzled hair cut short . Words cannot t ell what a sense I had, at t he sam e t im e, of t he dreadful m yst ery t hat he was t o m e. When he fell asleep 473
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
of an evening, wit h his knot t ed hands clenching t he sides of t he easy- chair, and his bald head t at t ooed wit h deep wrinkles falling forward on his breast , I would sit and look at him , wondering what he had done, and loading him wit h all t he crim es in t he Calendar, unt il t he im pulse was powerful on m e t o st art up and fly from him . Every hour so increased m y abhorrence of him , t hat I even t hink I m ight have yielded t o t his im pulse in t he first agonies of being so haunt ed, not wit hst anding all he had done for m e, and t he risk he ran, but for t he knowledge t hat Herbert m ust soon com e back. Once, I act ually did st art out of bed in t he night , and begin t o dress m yself in m y worst clot hes, hurriedly int ending t o leave him t here wit h everyt hing else I possessed, and enlist for I ndia as a privat e soldier. I doubt if a ghost could have been m ore t errible t o m e, up in t hose lonely room s in t he long evenings and long night s, wit h t he wind and t he rain always rushing by. A ghost could not have been t aken and hanged on m y account , and t he considerat ion t hat he could be, and t he dread t hat he would be, were no sm all addit ion t o m y horrors. When he was not asleep, or playing a com plicat ed kind of pat ience wit h a ragged pack of cards of his own—a gam e t hat I never saw before or since, and in which he recorded his winnings by st icking his j ack- knife int o t he t able—when he was not engaged in eit her of t hese pursuit s, he would ask m e t o read t o him —" Foreign language, dear boy! ” While I com plied, he, not com prehending a single word, would st and before t he fire surveying m e wit h t he air of an Exhibit or, and I would see him , bet ween t he fingers of t he hand wit h which I shaded m y 474
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
face, appealing in dum b show t o t he furnit ure t o t ake not ice of m y proficiency. The im aginary st udent pursued by t he m isshapen creat ure he had im piously m ade, was not m ore wret ched t han I , pursued by t he creat ure who had m ade m e, and recoiling from him wit h a st ronger repulsion, t he m ore he adm ired m e and t he fonder he was of m e. This is writ t en of, I am sensible, as if it had last ed a year. I t last ed about five days. Expect ing Herbert all t he t im e, I dared not go out , except when I t ook Provis for an airing aft er dark. At lengt h, one evening when dinner was over and I had dropped int o a slum ber quit e worn out —for m y night s had been agit at ed and m y rest broken by fearful dream s—I was roused by t he welcom e foot st ep on t he st aircase. Provis, who had been asleep t oo, st aggered up at t he noise I m ade, and in an inst ant I saw his j ack- knife shining in his hand. “ Quiet ! I t 's Herbert ! ” I said; and Herbert cam e burst ing in, wit h t he airy freshness of six hundred m iles of France upon him . “ Handel, m y dear fellow, how are you, and again how are you, and again how are you? I seem t o have been gone a t welvem ont h! Why, so I m ust have been, for you have grown quit e t hin and pale! Handel, m y—Halloa! I beg your pardon.” He was st opped in his running on and in his shaking hands wit h m e, by seeing Provis. Provis, regarding him wit h a fixed at t ent ion, was slowly put t ing up his j ack- knife, and groping in anot her pocket for som et hing else. “ Herbert , m y dear friend,” said I , shut t ing t he double doors, while Herbert st ood st aring and wondering, “ som et hing very st range has happened. This is—a visit or of m ine.” 475
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I t 's all right , dear boy! ” said Provis com ing forward, wit h his lit t le clasped black book, and t hen addressing him self t o Herbert . “ Take it in your right hand. Lord st rike you dead on t he spot , if ever you split in any way sum ever! Kiss it ! ” “ Do so, as he wishes it ,” I said t o Herbert . So, Herbert , looking at m e wit h a friendly uneasiness and am azem ent , com plied, and Provis im m ediat ely shaking hands wit h him , said, “ Now you're on your oat h, you know. And never believe m e on m ine, if Pip shan't m ake a gent lem an on you! ”
476
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 41 I n vain should I at t em pt t o describe t he ast onishm ent and disquiet of Herbert , when he and I and Provis sat down before t he fire, and I recount ed t he whole of t he secret . Enough, t hat I saw m y own feelings reflect ed in Herbert 's face, and, not least am ong t hem , m y repugnance t owards t he m an who had done so m uch for m e. What would alone have set a division bet ween t hat m an and us, if t here had been no ot her dividing circum st ance, was his t rium ph in m y st ory. Saving his t roublesom e sense of having been “ low’ on one occasion since his ret urn—on which point he began t o hold fort h t o Herbert , t he m om ent m y revelat ion was finished—he had no percept ion of t he possibilit y of m y finding any fault wit h m y good fort une. His boast t hat he had m ade m e a gent lem an, and t hat he had com e t o see m e support t he charact er on his am ple resources, was m ade for m e quit e as m uch as for him self; and t hat it was a highly agreeable boast t o bot h of us, and t hat we m ust bot h be very proud of it , was a conclusion quit e est ablished in his own m ind. “ Though, look'ee here, Pip's com rade,” he said t o Herbert , aft er having discoursed for som e t im e, “ I know very well t hat once since I com e back—for half a m inut e—I 've been low. I said t o Pip, I knowed as I had been low. But don't you fret yourself on t hat score. I ain't m ade Pip a gent lem an, and Pip ain't a- going t o m ake you a gent lem an, not fur m e not t o know what 's due t o ye bot h. Dear boy, and Pip's com rade, 477
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
you t wo m ay count upon m e always having a gen- t eel m uzzle on. Muzzled I have been since t hat half a m inut e when I was bet rayed int o lowness, m uzzled I am at t he present t im e, m uzzled I ever will be.” Herbert said, “ Cert ainly,” but looked as if t here were no specific consolat ion in t his, and rem ained perplexed and dism ayed. We were anxious for t he t im e when he would go t o his lodging, and leave us t oget her, but he was evident ly j ealous of leaving us t oget her, and sat lat e. I t was m idnight before I t ook him round t o Essex- st reet , and saw him safely in at his own dark door. When it closed upon him , I experienced t he first m om ent of relief I had known since t he night of his arrival. Never quit e free from an uneasy rem em brance of t he m an on t he st airs, I had always looked about m e in t aking m y guest out aft er dark, and in bringing him back; and I looked about m e now. Difficult as it is in a large cit y t o avoid t he suspicion of being wat ched, when t he m ind is conscious of danger in t hat regard, I could not persuade m yself t hat any of t he people wit hin sight cared about m y m ovem ent s. The few who were passing, passed on t heir several ways, and t he st reet was em pt y when I t urned back int o t he Tem ple. Nobody had com e out at t he gat e wit h us, nobody went in at t he gat e wit h m e. As I crossed by t he fount ain, I saw his light ed back windows looking bright and quiet , and, when I st ood for a few m om ent s in t he doorway of t he building where I lived, before going up t he st airs, Garden- court was as st ill and lifeless as t he st aircase was when I ascended it . 478
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Herbert received m e wit h open arm s, and I had never felt before, so blessedly, what it is t o have a friend. When he had spoken som e sound words of sym pat hy and encouragem ent , we sat down t o consider t he quest ion, What was t o be done? The chair t hat Provis had occupied st ill rem aining where it had st ood—for he had a barrack way wit h him of hanging about one spot , in one unset t led m anner, and going t hrough one round of observances wit h his pipe and his negro- head and his j ack- knife and his pack of cards, and what not , as if it were all put down for him on a slat e—I say, his chair rem aining where it had st ood, Herbert unconsciously t ook it , but next m om ent st art ed out of it , pushed it away, and t ook anot her. He had no occasion t o say, aft er t hat , t hat he had conceived an aversion for m y pat ron, neit her had I occasion t o confess m y own. We int erchanged t hat confidence wit hout shaping a syllable. “ What ,” said I t o Herbert , when he was safe in anot her chair, “ what is t o be done?” “ My poor dear Handel,” he replied, holding his head, “ I am t oo st unned t o t hink.” “ So was I , Herbert , when t he blow first fell. St ill, som et hing m ust be done. He is int ent upon various new expenses—horses, and carriages, and lavish appearances of all kinds. He m ust be st opped som ehow.” “ You m ean t hat you can't accept —” “ How can I ?” I int erposed, as Herbert paused. “ Think of him ! Look at him ! ” An involunt ary shudder passed over bot h of us. 479
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yet I am afraid t he dreadful t rut h is, Herbert , t hat he is at t ached t o m e, st rongly at t ached t o m e. Was t here ever such a fat e! ” “ My poor dear Handel,” Herbert repeat ed. “ Then,” said I , “ aft er all, st opping short here, never t aking anot her penny from him , t hink what I owe him already! Then again: I am heavily in debt —very heavily for m e, who have now no expect at ions—and I have been bred t o no calling, and I am fit for not hing.” “ Well, well, well! ” Herbert rem onst rat ed. “ Don't say fit for not hing.” “ What am I fit for? I know only one t hing t hat I am fit for, and t hat is, t o go for a soldier. And I m ight have gone, m y dear Herbert , but for t he prospect of t aking counsel wit h your friendship and affect ion.” Of course I broke down t here: and of course Herbert , beyond seizing a warm grip of m y hand, pret ended not t o know it . “ Anyhow, m y dear Handel,” said he present ly, “ soldiering won't do. I f you were t o renounce t his pat ronage and t hese favours, I suppose you would do so wit h som e faint hope of one day repaying what you have already had. Not very st rong, t hat hope, if you went soldiering! Besides, it 's absurd. You would be infinit ely bet t er in Clarriker's house, sm all as it is. I am working up t owards a part nership, you know.” Poor fellow! He lit t le suspect ed wit h whose m oney. “ But t here is anot her quest ion,” said Herbert . “ This is an ignorant det erm ined m an, who has long had one fixed idea. 480
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
More t han t hat , he seem s t o m e ( I m ay m isj udge him ) t o be a m an of a desperat e and fierce charact er.” “ I know he is,” I ret urned. “ Let m e t ell you what evidence I have seen of it .” And I t old him what I had not m ent ioned in m y narrat ive; of t hat encount er wit h t he ot her convict . “ See, t hen,” said Herbert ; “ t hink of t his! He com es here at t he peril of his life, for t he realizat ion of his fixed idea. I n t he m om ent of realizat ion, aft er all his t oil and wait ing, you cut t he ground from under his feet , dest roy his idea, and m ake his gains wort hless t o him . Do you see not hing t hat he m ight do, under t he disappoint m ent ?” “ I have seen it , Herbert , and dream ed of it , ever since t he fat al night of his arrival. Not hing has been in m y t hought s so dist inct ly, as his put t ing him self in t he way of being t aken.” “ Then you m ay rely upon it ,” said Herbert , “ t hat t here would be great danger of his doing it . That is his power over you as long as he rem ains in England, and t hat would be his reckless course if you forsook him .” I was so st ruck by t he horror of t his idea, which had weighed upon m e from t he first , and t he working out of which would m ake m e regard m yself, in som e sort , as his m urderer, t hat I could not rest in m y chair but began pacing t o and fro. I said t o Herbert , m eanwhile, t hat even if Provis were recognized and t aken, in spit e of him self, I should be wret ched as t he cause, however innocent ly. Yes; even t hough I was so wret ched in having him at large and near m e, and even t hough I would far far rat her have worked at t he forge all t he days of m y life t han I would ever have com e t o t his! 481
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
But t here was no st aving off t he quest ion, What was t o be done? “ The first and t he m ain t hing t o be done,” said Herbert , “ is t o get him out of England. You will have t o go wit h him , and t hen he m ay be induced t o go.” “ But get him where I will, could I prevent his com ing back?” “ My good Handel, is it not obvious t hat wit h Newgat e in t he next st reet , t here m ust be far great er hazard in your breaking your m ind t o him and m aking him reckless, here, t han elsewhere. I f a pret ext t o get him away could be m ade out of t hat ot her convict , or out of anyt hing else in his life, now.” “ There, again! ” said I , st opping before Herbert , wit h m y open hands held out , as if t hey cont ained t he desperat ion of t he case. “ I know not hing of his life. I t has alm ost m ade m e m ad t o sit here of a night and see him before m e, so bound up wit h m y fort unes and m isfort unes, and yet so unknown t o m e, except as t he m iserable wret ch who t errified m e t wo days in m y childhood! ” Herbert got up, and linked his arm in m ine, and we slowly walked t o and fro t oget her, st udying t he carpet . “ Handel,” said Herbert , st opping, “ you feel convinced t hat you can t ake no furt her benefit s from him ; do you?” “ Fully. Surely you would, t oo, if you were in m y place?” “ And you feel convinced t hat you m ust break wit h him ?” “ Herbert , can you ask m e?” “ And you have, and are bound t o have, t hat t enderness for t he life he has risked on your account , t hat you m ust save 482
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him , if possible, from t hrowing it away. Then you m ust get him out of England before you st ir a finger t o ext ricat e yourself. That done, ext ricat e yourself, in Heaven's nam e, and we'll see it out t oget her, dear old boy.” I t was a com fort t o shake hands upon it , and walk up and down again, wit h only t hat done. “ Now, Herbert ,” said I , “ wit h reference t o gaining som e knowledge of his hist ory. There is but one way t hat I know of. I m ust ask him point - blank.” “ Yes. Ask him ,” said Herbert , “ when we sit at breakfast in t he m orning.” For, he had said, on t aking leave of Herbert , t hat he would com e t o breakfast wit h us. Wit h t his proj ect form ed, we went t o bed. I had t he wildest dream s concerning him , and woke unrefreshed; I woke, t oo, t o recover t he fear which I had lost in t he night , of his being found out as a ret urned t ransport . Waking, I never lost t hat fear. He cam e round at t he appoint ed t im e, t ook out his j ackknife, and sat down t o his m eal. He was full of plans “ for his gent lem an's com ing out st rong, and like a gent lem an,” and urged m e t o begin speedily upon t he pocket - book, which he had left in m y possession. He considered t he cham bers and his own lodging as t em porary residences, and advised m e t o look out at once for a “ fashionable crib’ near Hyde Park, in which he could have “ a shake- down'. When he had m ade an end of his breakfast , and was wiping his knife on his leg, I said t o him , wit hout a word of preface:
483
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Aft er you were gone last night , I t old m y friend of t he st ruggle t hat t he soldiers found you engaged in on t he m arshes, when we cam e up. You rem em ber?” “ Rem em ber! ” said he. “ I t hink so! ” “ We want t o know som et hing about t hat m an—and about you. I t is st range t o know no m ore about eit her, and part icularly you, t han I was able t o t ell last night . I s not t his as good a t im e as anot her for our knowing m ore?” “ Well! ” he said, aft er considerat ion. “ You're on your oat h, you know, Pip's com rade?” “ Assuredly,” replied Herbert . “ As t o anyt hing I say, you know,” he insist ed. “ The oat h applies t o all.” “ I underst and it t o do so.” “ And look'ee here! Wot ever I done, is worked out and paid for,” he insist ed again. “ So be it .” He t ook out his black pipe and was going t o fill it wit h negrohead, when, looking at t he t angle of t obacco in his hand, he seem ed t o t hink it m ight perplex t he t hread of his narrat ive. He put it back again, st uck his pipe in a but t on- hole of his coat , spread a hand on each knee, and, aft er t urning an angry eye on t he fire for a few silent m om ent s, looked round at us and said what follows.
484
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 42 “ Dear boy and Pip's com rade. I am not a- going fur t o t ell you m y life, like a song or a st ory- book. But t o give it you short and handy, I 'll put it at once int o a m out hful of English. I n j ail and out of j ail, in j ail and out of j ail, in j ail and out of j ail. There, you got it . That 's m y life pret t y m uch, down t o such t im es as I got shipped off, art er Pip st ood m y friend. “ I 've been done everyt hing t o, pret t y well—except hanged. I 've been locked up, as m uch as a silver t ea- ket t le. I 've been cart ed here and cart ed t here, and put out of t his t own and put out of t hat t own, and st uck in t he st ocks, and whipped and worried and drove. I 've no m ore not ion where I was born, t han you have—if so m uch. I first becom e aware of m yself, down in Essex, a t hieving t urnips for m y living. Sum m un had run away from m e—a m an—a t inker—and he'd t ook t he fire wit h him , and left m e wery cold. “ I know'd m y nam e t o be Magwit ch, chrisen'd Abel. How did I know it ? Much as I know'd t he birds’ nam es in t he hedges t o be chaffinch, sparrer, t hrush. I m ight have t hought it was all lies t oget her, only as t he birds’ nam es com e out t rue, I supposed m ine did. “ So fur as I could find, t here warn't a soul t hat see young Abel Magwit ch, wit h us lit t le on him as in him , but wot caught fright at him , and eit her drove him off, or t ook him up. I was t ook up, t ook up, t ook up, t o t hat ext ent t hat I reg'larly grow'd up t ook up. 485
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ This is t he way it was, t hat when I was a ragged lit t le creet ur as m uch t o be pit ied as ever I see ( not t hat I looked in t he glass, for t here warn't m any insides of furnished houses known t o m e) , I got t he nam e of being hardened. “ This is a t errible hardened one,” t hey says t o prison wisit ors, picking out m e. “ May be said t o live in j ails, t his boy. “ Then t hey looked at m e, and I looked at t hem , and t hey m easured m y head, som e on ‘em —t hey had bet t er a- m easured m y st om ach—and ot hers on ‘em giv m e t ract s what I couldn't read, and m ade m e speeches what I couldn't underst and. They always went on agen m e about t he Devil. But what t he Devil was I t o do? I m ust put som et hing int o m y st om ach, m ust n't I ?—Howsom ever, I 'm a get t ing low, and I know what 's due. Dear boy and Pip's com rade, don't you be afeerd of m e being low. “ Tram ping, begging, t hieving, working som et im es when I could—t hough t hat warn't as oft en as you m ay t hink, t ill you put t he quest ion whet her you would ha’ been over- ready t o give m e work yourselves—a bit of a poacher, a bit of a labourer, a bit of a waggoner, a bit of a haym aker, a bit of a hawker, a bit of m ost t hings t hat don't pay and lead t o t rouble, I got t o be a m an. A desert ing soldier in a Traveller's Rest , what lay hid up t o t he chin under a lot of t at urs, learnt m e t o read; and a t ravelling Giant what signed his nam e at a penny a t im e learnt m e t o writ e. I warn't locked up as oft en now as form erly, but I wore out m y good share of keym et al st ill. “ At Epsom races, a m at t er of over t went y years ago, I got acquaint ed wi’ a m an whose skull I 'd crack wi’ t his poker, like 486
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he claw of a lobst er, if I 'd got it on t his hob. His right nam e was Com peyson; and t hat 's t he m an, dear boy, what you see m e a- pounding in t he dit ch, according t o what you t ruly t old your com rade art er I was gone last night . “ He set up fur a gent lem an, t his Com peyson, and he'd been t o a public boarding- school and had learning. He was a sm oot h one t o t alk, and was a dab at t he ways of gent lefolks. He was good- looking t oo. I t was t he night afore t he great race, when I found him on t he heat h, in a boot h t hat I know'd on. Him and som e m ore was a sit t ing am ong t he t ables when I went in, and t he landlord ( which had a knowledge of m e, and was a sport ing one) called him out , and said, ‘I t hink t his is a m an t hat m ight suit you'—m eaning I was. “ Com peyson, he looks at m e very not icing, and I look at him . He has a wat ch and a chain and a ring and a breast - pin and a handsom e suit of clot hes. “ ‘To j udge from appearances, you're out of luck,’ says Com peyson t o m e. “ ‘Yes, m ast er, and I 've never been in it m uch.’ ( I had com e out of Kingst on Jail last on a vagrancy com m it t al. Not but what it m ight have been for som et hing else; but it warn't .) “ ‘Luck changes,’ says Com peyson; ‘perhaps yours is going t o change.’ “ I says, ‘I hope it m ay be so. There's room .’ “ ‘What can you do?’ says Com peyson. “ ‘Eat and drink,’ I says; ‘if you'll find t he m at erials.’ “ Com peyson laughed, looked at m e again very not icing, giv m e five shillings, and appoint ed m e for next night . Sam e place. 487
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I went t o Com peyson next night , sam e place, and Com peyson t ook m e on t o be his m an and pardner. And what was Com peyson's business in which we was t o go pardners? Com peyson's business was t he swindling, handwrit ing forging, st olen bank- not e passing, and such- like. All sort s of t raps as Com peyson could set wit h his head, and keep his own legs out of and get t he profit s from and let anot her m an in for, was Com peyson's business. He'd no m ore heart t han a iron file, he was as cold as deat h, and he had t he head of t he Devil afore m ent ioned. “ There was anot her in wit h Com peyson, as was called Art hur—not as being so chrisen'd, but as a surnam e. He was in a Decline, and was a shadow t o look at . Him and Com peyson had been in a bad t hing wit h a rich lady som e years afore, and t hey'd m ade a pot of m oney by it ; but Com peyson bet t ed and gam ed, and he'd have run t hrough t he king's t axes. So, Art hur was a- dying, and a- dying poor and wit h t he horrors on him , and Com peyson's wife ( which Com peyson kicked m ost ly) was a- having pit y on him when she could, and Com peyson was a- having pit y on not hing and nobody. “ I m ight a- t ook warning by Art hur, but I didn't ; and I won't pret end I was part ick'ler—for where ‘ud be t he good on it , dear boy and com rade? So I begun wi’ Com peyson, and a poor t ool I was in his hands. Art hur lived at t he t op of Com peyson's house ( over nigh Brent ford it was) , and Com peyson kept a careful account agen him for board and lodging, in case he should ever get bet t er t o work it out . But Art hur soon set t led t he account . The second or t hird t im e as 488
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ever I see him , he com e a- t earing down int o Com peyson's parlour lat e at night , in only a flannel gown, wit h his hair all in a sweat , and he says t o Com peyson's wife, ‘Sally, she really is upst airs alonger m e, now, and I can't get rid of her. She's all in whit e,’ he says, ‘wi’ whit e flowers in her hair, and she's awful m ad, and she's got a shroud hanging over her arm , and she says she'll put it on m e at five in t he m orning.’ “ Says Com peyson: ‘Why, you fool, don't you know she's got a living body? And how should she be up t here, wit hout com ing t hrough t he door, or in at t he window, and up t he st airs?’ “ ‘I don't know how she's t here,’ says Art hur, shivering dreadful wit h t he horrors, ‘but she's st anding in t he corner at t he foot of t he bed, awful m ad. And over where her heart 's brook—you broke it ! —t here's drops of blood.’ “ Com peyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. ‘Go up alonger t his drivelling sick m an,’ he says t o his wife, ‘and Magwit ch, lend her a hand, will you?’ But he never com e nigh him self. “ Com peyson's wife and m e t ook him up t o bed agen, and he raved m ost dreadful. ‘Why look at her! ’ he cries out . ‘She's a- shaking t he shroud at m e! Don't you see her? Look at her eyes! Ain't it awful t o see her so m ad?’ Next , he cries, ‘She'll put it on m e, and t hen I 'm done for! Take it away from her, t ake it away! ’ And t hen he cat ched hold of us, and kep on at alking t o her, and answering of her, t ill I half believed I see her m yself. “ Com peyson's wife, being used t o him , giv him som e liquor t o get t he horrors off, and by- and- by he quiet ed. ‘Oh, she's 489
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
gone! Has her keeper been for her?’ he says. ‘Yes,’ says Com peyson's wife. ‘Did you t ell him t o lock her and bar her in?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And t o t ake t hat ugly t hing away from her?’ ‘Yes, yes, all right .’ ‘You're a good creet ur,’ he says, ‘don't leave m e, what ever you do, and t hank you! ’ “ He rest ed pret t y quiet t ill it m ight want a few m inut es of five, and t hen he st art s up wit h a scream , and scream s out , ‘Here she is! She's got t he shroud again. She's unfolding it . She's com ing out of t he corner. She's com ing t o t he bed. Hold m e, bot h on you—one of each side—don't let her t ouch m e wit h it . Hah! she m issed m e t hat t im e. Don't let her t hrow it over m y shoulders. Don't let her lift m e up t o get it round m e. She's lift ing m e up. Keep m e down! ’ Then he lift ed him self up hard, and was dead. “ Com peyson t ook it easy as a good riddance for bot h sides. Him and m e was soon busy, and first he swore m e ( being ever art ful) on m y own book—t his here lit t le black book, dear boy, what I swore your com rade on. “ Not t o go int o t he t hings t hat Com peyson planned, and I done—which ‘ud t ake a week—I 'll sim ply say t o you, dear boy, and Pip's com rade, t hat t hat m an got m e int o such net s as m ade m e his black slave. I was always in debt t o him , always under his t hum b, always a- working, always a- get t ing int o danger. He was younger t han m e, but he'd got craft , and he'd got learning, and he overm at ched m e five hundred t im es t old and no m ercy. My Missis as I had t he hard t im e wi'—St op t hough! I ain't brought her in—” He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place in t he book of his rem em brance; and he t urned his 490
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
face t o t he fire, and spread his hands broader on his knees, and lift ed t hem off and put t hem on again. “ There ain't no need t o go int o it ,” he said, looking round once m ore. “ The t im e wi’ Com peyson was a'm ost as hard a t im e as ever I had; t hat said, all's said. Did I t ell you as I was t ried, alone, for m isdem eanour, while wit h Com peyson?” I answered, No. “ Well! ” he said, “ I was, and got convict ed. As t o t ook up on suspicion, t hat was t wice or t hree t im es in t he four or five year t hat it last ed; but evidence was want ing. At last , m e and Com peyson was bot h com m it t ed for felony—on a charge of put t ing st olen not es in circulat ion—and t here was ot her charges behind. Com peyson says t o m e, ‘Separat e defences, no com m unicat ion,’ and t hat was all. And I was so m iserable poor, t hat I sold all t he clot hes I had, except what hung on m y back, afore I could get Jaggers. “ When we was put in t he dock, I not iced first of all what a gent lem an Com peyson looked, wi’ his curly hair and his black clot hes and his whit e pocket - handkercher, and what a com m on sort of a wret ch I looked. When t he prosecut ion opened and t he evidence was put short , aforehand, I not iced how heavy it all bore on m e, and how light on him . When t he evidence was giv in t he box, I not iced how it was always m e t hat had com e for'ard, and could be swore t o, how it was always m e t hat t he m oney had been paid t o, how it was always m e t hat had seem ed t o work t he t hing and get t he profit . But , when t he defence com e on, t hen I see t he plan plainer; for, says t he counsellor for Com peyson, ‘My lord and gent lem en, here you has afore you, side by side, t wo persons 491
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
as your eyes can separat e wide; one, t he younger, well brought up, who will be spoke t o as such; one, t he elder, ill brought up, who will be spoke t o as such; one, t he younger, seldom if ever seen in t hese here t ransact ions, and only suspect ed; t 'ot her, t he elder, always seen in ‘em and always wi'his guilt brought hom e. Can you doubt , if t here is but one in it , which is t he one, and, if t here is t wo in it , which is m uch t he worst one?’ And such- like. And when it com e t o charact er, warn't it Com peyson as had been t o t he school, and warn't it his schoolfellows as was in t his posit ion and in t hat , and warn't it him as had been know'd by wit nesses in such clubs and societ ies, and nowt t o his disadvant age? And warn't it m e as had been t ried afore, and as had been know'd up hill and down dale in Bridewells and Lock- Ups? And when it com e t o speech- m aking, warn't it Com peyson as could speak t o ‘em wi’ his face dropping every now and t hen int o his whit e pocket - handkercher—ah! and wi’ verses in his speech, t oo— and warn't it m e as could only say, ‘Gent lem en, t his m an at m y side is a m ost precious rascal'? And when t he verdict com e, warn't it Com peyson as was recom m ended t o m ercy on account of good charact er and bad com pany, and giving up all t he inform at ion he could agen m e, and warn't it m e as got never a word but Guilt y? And when I says t o Com peyson, ‘Once out of t his court , I 'll sm ash t hat face of yourn! ’ ain't it Com peyson as prays t he Judge t o be prot ect ed, and get s t wo t urnkeys st ood bet wixt us? And when we're sent enced, ain't it him as get s seven year, and m e fourt een, and ain't it him as t he Judge is sorry for, because he m ight a done so well, and 492
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ain't it m e as t he Judge perceives t o be a old offender of wiolent passion, likely t o com e t o worse?” He had worked him self int o a st at e of great excit em ent , but he checked it , t ook t wo or t hree short breat hs, swallowed as oft en, and st ret ching out his hand t owards m e said, in a reassuring m anner, “ I ain't a- going t o be low, dear boy! ” He had so heat ed him self t hat he t ook out his handkerchief and wiped his face and head and neck and hands, before he could go on. “ I had said t o Com peyson t hat I 'd sm ash t hat face of his, and I swore Lord sm ash m ine! t o do it . We was in t he sam e prison- ship, but I couldn't get at him for long, t hough I t ried. At last I com e behind him and hit him on t he cheek t o t urn him round and get a sm ashing one at him , when I was seen and seized. The black- hole of t hat ship warn't a st rong one, t o a j udge of black- holes t hat could swim and dive. I escaped t o t he shore, and I was a hiding am ong t he graves t here, envying t hem as was in ‘em and all over, when I first see m y boy! ” He regarded m e wit h a look of affect ion t hat m ade him alm ost abhorrent t o m e again, t hough I had felt great pit y for him . “ By m y boy, I was giv t o underst and as Com peyson was out on t hem m arshes t oo. Upon m y soul, I half believe he escaped in his t error, t o get quit of m e, not knowing it was m e as had got ashore. I hunt ed him down. I sm ashed his face. ‘And now,’ says I ‘as t he worst t hing I can do, caring not hing for m yself, I 'll drag you back.’ And I 'd have swum off, 493
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t owing him by t he hair, if it had com e t o t hat , and I 'd a got him aboard wit hout t he soldiers. “ Of course he'd m uch t he best of it t o t he last —his charact er was so good. He had escaped when he was m ade half- wild by m e and m y m urderous int ent ions; and his punishm ent was light . I was put in irons, brought t o t rial again, and sent for life. I didn't st op for life, dear boy and Pip's com rade, being here.” “ He wiped him self again, as he had done before, and t hen slowly t ook his t angle of t obacco from his pocket , and plucked his pipe from his but t on- hole, and slowly filled it , and began t o sm oke. “ I s he dead?” I asked, aft er a silence. “ I s who dead, dear boy?” “ Com peyson.” “ He hopes I am , if he's alive, you m ay be sure,” wit h a fierce look. “ I never heerd no m ore of him .” Herbert had been writ ing wit h his pencil in t he cover of a book. He soft ly pushed t he book over t o m e, as Provis st ood sm oking wit h his eyes on t he fire, and I read in it : “ Young Havisham 's nam e was Art hur. Com peyson is t he m an who professed t o be Miss Havisham 's lover.” I shut t he book and nodded slight ly t o Herbert , and put t he book by; but we neit her of us said anyt hing, and bot h looked at Provis as he st ood sm oking by t he fire.
494
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 43 Why should I pause t o ask how m uch of m y shrinking from Provis m ight be t raced t o Est ella? Why should I loit er on m y road, t o com pare t he st at e of m ind in which I had t ried t o rid m yself of t he st ain of t he prison before m eet ing her at t he coach- office, wit h t he st at e of m ind in which I now reflect ed on t he abyss bet ween Est ella in her pride and beaut y, and t he ret urned t ransport whom I harboured? The road would be none t he sm oot her for it , t he end would be none t he bet t er for it , he would not be helped, nor I ext enuat ed. A new fear had been engendered in m y m ind by his narrat ive; or rat her, his narrat ive had given form and purpose t o t he fear t hat was already t here. I f Com peyson were alive and should discover his ret urn, I could hardly doubt t he consequence. That , Com peyson st ood in m ort al fear of him , neit her of t he t wo could know m uch bet t er t han I ; and t hat , any such m an as t hat m an had been described t o be, would hesit at e t o release him self for good from a dreaded enem y by t he safe m eans of becom ing an inform er, was scarcely t o be im agined. Never had I breat hed, and never would I breat he—or so I resolved—a word of Est ella t o Provis. But , I said t o Herbert t hat before I could go abroad, I m ust see bot h Est ella and Miss Havisham . This was when we were left alone on t he night of t he day when Provis t old us his st ory. I resolved t o go out t o Richm ond next day, and I went . 495
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
On m y present ing m yself at Mrs. Brandley's, Est ella's m aid was called t o t ell t hat Est ella had gone int o t he count ry. Where? To Sat is House, as usual. Not as usual, I said, for she had never yet gone t here wit hout m e; when was she com ing back? There was an air of reservat ion in t he answer which increased m y perplexit y, and t he answer was, t hat her m aid believed she was only com ing back at all for a lit t le while. I could m ake not hing of t his, except t hat it was m eant t hat I should m ake not hing of it , and I went hom e again in com plet e discom fit ure. Anot her night - consult at ion wit h Herbert aft er Provis was gone hom e ( I always t ook him hom e, and always looked well about m e) , led us t o t he conclusion t hat not hing should be said about going abroad unt il I cam e back from Miss Havisham 's. I n t he m eant im e, Herbert and I were t o consider separat ely what it would be best t o say; whet her we should devise any pret ence of being afraid t hat he was under suspicious observat ion; or whet her I , who had never yet been abroad, should propose an expedit ion. We bot h knew t hat I had but t o propose anyt hing, and he would consent . We agreed t hat his rem aining m any days in his present hazard was not t o be t hought of. Next day, I had t he m eanness t o feign t hat I was under a binding prom ise t o go down t o Joe; but I was capable of alm ost any m eanness t owards Joe or his nam e. Provis was t o be st rict ly careful while I was gone, and Herbert was t o t ake t he charge of him t hat I had t aken. I was t o be absent only one night , and, on m y ret urn, t he grat ificat ion of his im pat ience for m y st art ing as a gent lem an on a great er scale, 496
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was t o be begun. I t occurred t o m e t hen, and as I aft erwards found t o Herbert also, t hat he m ight be best got away across t he wat er, on t hat pret ence—as, t o m ake purchases, or t he like. Having t hus cleared t he way for m y expedit ion t o Miss Havisham 's, I set off by t he early m orning coach before it was yet light , and was out on t he open count ry- road when t he day cam e creeping on, halt ing and whim pering and shivering, and wrapped in pat ches of cloud and rags of m ist , like a beggar. When we drove up t o t he Blue Boar aft er a drizzly ride, whom should I see com e out under t he gat eway, t oot hpick in hand, t o look at t he coach, but Bent ley Drum m le! As he pret ended not t o see m e, I pret ended not t o see him . I t was a very lam e pret ence on bot h sides; t he lam er, because we bot h went int o t he coffee- room , where he had j ust finished his breakfast , and where I ordered m ine. I t was poisonous t o m e t o see him in t he t own, for I very well knew why he had com e t here. Pret ending t o read a sm eary newspaper long out of dat e, which had not hing half so legible in it s local news, as t he foreign m at t er of coffee, pickles, fish- sauces, gravy, m elt ed but t er, and wine, wit h which it was sprinkled all over, as if it had t aken t he m easles in a highly irregular form , I sat at m y t able while he st ood before t he fire. By degrees it becam e an enorm ous inj ury t o m e t hat he st ood before t he fire, and I got up, det erm ined t o have m y share of it . I had t o put m y hand behind his legs for t he poker when I went up t o t he fire- place t o st ir t he fire, but st ill pret ended not t o know him . “ I s t his a cut ?” said Mr. Drum m le. 497
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Oh! ” said I , poker in hand; “ it 's you, is it ? How do you do? I was wondering who it was, who kept t he fire off.” Wit h t hat , I poked t rem endously, and having done so, plant ed m yself side by side wit h Mr. Drum m le, m y shoulders squared and m y back t o t he fire. “ You have j ust com e down?” said Mr. Drum m le, edging m e a lit t le away wit h his shoulder. “ Yes,” said I , edging him a lit t le away wit h m y shoulder. “ Beast ly place,” said Drum m le.—" Your part of t he count ry, I t hink?” “ Yes,” I assent ed. “ I am t old it 's very like your Shropshire.” “ Not in t he least like it ,” said Drum m le. Here Mr. Drum m le looked at his boot s, and I looked at m ine, and t hen Mr. Drum m le looked at m y boot s, and I looked at his. “ Have you been here long?” I asked, det erm ined not t o yield an inch of t he fire. “ Long enough t o be t ired of it ,” ret urned Drum m le, pret ending t o yawn, but equally det erm ined. “ Do you st ay here long?” “ Can't say,” answered Mr. Drum m le. “ Do you?” “ Can't say,” said I . I felt here, t hrough a t ingling in m y blood, t hat if Mr. Drum m le's shoulder had claim ed anot her hair's breadt h of room , I should have j erked him int o t he window; equally, t hat if m y own shoulder had urged a sim ilar claim , Mr. Drum m le would have j erked m e int o t he nearest box. He whist led a lit t le. So did I . 498
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Large t ract of m arshes about here, I believe?” said Drum m le. “ Yes. What of t hat ?” said I . Mr. Drum m le looked at m e, and t hen at m y boot s, and t hen said, “ Oh! ” and laughed. “ Are you am used, Mr. Drum m le?” “ No,” said he, “ not part icularly. I am going out for a ride in t he saddle. I m ean t o explore t hose m arshes for am usem ent . Out - of- t he- way villages t here, t hey t ell m e. Curious lit t le public- houses—and sm it hies—and t hat . Wait er! ” “ Yes, sir.” “ I s t hat horse of m ine ready?” “ Brought round t o t he door, sir.” “ I say. Look here, you sir. The lady won't ride t o- day; t he weat her won't do.” “ Very good, sir.” “ And I don't dine, because I 'm going t o dine at t he lady's.” “ Very good, sir.” Then, Drum m le glanced at m e, wit h an insolent t rium ph on his great - j owled face t hat cut m e t o t he heart , dull as he was, and so exasperat ed m e, t hat I felt inclined t o t ake him in m y arm s ( as t he robber in t he st ory- book is said t o have t aken t he old lady) , and seat him on t he fire. One t hing was m anifest t o bot h of us, and t hat was, t hat unt il relief cam e, neit her of us could relinquish t he fire. There we st ood, well squared up before it , shoulder t o shoulder and foot t o foot , wit h our hands behind us, not budging an inch. The horse was visible out side in t he drizzle at t he door, m y breakfast was put on t he t able, Drum m le's was cleared away, 499
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he wait er invit ed m e t o begin, I nodded, we bot h st ood our ground. “ Have you been t o t he Grove since?” said Drum m le. “ No,” said I , “ I had quit e enough of t he Finches t he last t im e I was t here.” “ Was t hat when we had a difference of opinion?” “ Yes,” I replied, very short ly. “ Com e, com e! They let you off easily enough,” sneered Drum m le. “ You shouldn't have lost your t em per.” “ Mr. Drum m le,” said I , “ you are not com pet ent t o give advice on t hat subj ect . When I lose m y t em per ( not t hat I adm it having done so on t hat occasion) , I don't t hrow glasses.” “ I do,” said Drum m le. Aft er glancing at him once or t wice, in an increased st at e of sm ouldering ferocit y, I said: “ Mr. Drum m le, I did not seek t his conversat ion, and I don't t hink it an agreeable one.” “ I am sure it 's not ,” said he, superciliously over his shoulder; “ I don't t hink anyt hing about it .” “ And t herefore,” I went on, “ wit h your leave, I will suggest t hat we hold no kind of com m unicat ion in fut ure.” “ Quit e m y opinion,” said Drum m le, “ and what I should have suggest ed m yself, or done—m ore likely—wit hout suggest ing. But don't lose your t em per. Haven't you lost enough wit hout t hat ?” “ What do you m ean, sir?” “ Wai- t er! ,” said Drum m le, by way of answering m e. The wait er reappeared. 500
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Look here, you sir. You quit e underst and t hat t he young lady don't ride t o- day, and t hat I dine at t he young lady's?” “ Quit e so, sir! ” When t he wait er had felt m y fast cooling t ea- pot wit h t he palm of his hand, and had looked im ploringly at m e, and had gone out , Drum m le, careful not t o m ove t he shoulder next m e, t ook a cigar from his pocket and bit t he end off, but showed no sign of st irring. Choking and boiling as I was, I felt t hat we could not go a word furt her, wit hout int roducing Est ella's nam e, which I could not endure t o hear him ut t er; and t herefore I looked st onily at t he opposit e wall, as if t here were no one present , and forced m yself t o silence. How long we m ight have rem ained in t his ridiculous posit ion it is im possible t o say, but for t he incursion of t hree t hriving farm ers—led on by t he wait er, I t hink—who cam e int o t he coffee- room unbut t oning t heir great - coat s and rubbing t heir hands, and before whom , as t hey charged at t he fire, we were obliged t o give way. I saw him t hrough t he window, seizing his horse's m ane, and m ount ing in his blundering brut al m anner, and sidling and backing away. I t hought he was gone, when he cam e back, calling for a light for t he cigar in his m out h, which he had forgot t en. A m an in a dust coloured dress appeared wit h what was want ed—I could not have said from where: whet her from t he inn yard, or t he st reet , or where not —and as Drum m le leaned down from t he saddle and light ed his cigar and laughed, wit h a j erk of his head t owards t he coffee- room windows, t he slouching shoulders and ragged hair of t his m an, whose back was t owards m e, rem inded m e of Orlick. 501
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Too heavily out of sort s t o care m uch at t he t im e whet her it were he or no, or aft er all t o t ouch t he breakfast , I washed t he weat her and t he j ourney from m y face and hands, and went out t o t he m em orable old house t hat it would have been so m uch t he bet t er for m e never t o have ent ered, never t o have seen.
502
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 44 I n t he room where t he dressing- t able st ood, and where t he wax candles burnt on t he wall, I found Miss Havisham and Est ella; Miss Havisham seat ed on a set t ee near t he fire, and Est ella on a cushion at her feet . Est ella was knit t ing, and Miss Havisham was looking on. They bot h raised t heir eyes as I went in, and bot h saw an alt erat ion in m e. I derived t hat , from t he look t hey int erchanged. “ And what wind,” said Miss Havisham , “ blows you here, Pip?” Though she looked st eadily at m e, I saw t hat she was rat her confused. Est ella, pausing a m om ent in her knit t ing wit h her eyes upon m e, and t hen going on, I fancied t hat I read in t he act ion of her fingers, as plainly as if she had t old m e in t he dum b alphabet , t hat she perceived I had discovered m y real benefact or. “ Miss Havisham ,” said I , “ I went t o Richm ond yest erday, t o speak t o Est ella; and finding t hat som e wind had blown her here, I followed.” Miss Havisham m ot ioning t o m e for t he t hird or fourt h t im e t o sit down, I t ook t he chair by t he dressing- t able, which I had oft en seen her occupy. Wit h all t hat ruin at m y feet and about m e, it seem ed a nat ural place for m e, t hat day. “ What I had t o say t o Est ella, Miss Havisham , I will say before you, present ly—in a few m om ent s. I t will not surprise you, it will not displease you. I am as unhappy as you can ever have m eant m e t o be.” 503
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Miss Havisham cont inued t o look st eadily at m e. I could see in t he act ion of Est ella's fingers as t hey worked, t hat she at t ended t o what I said: but she did not look up. “ I have found out who m y pat ron is. I t is not a fort unat e discovery, and is not likely ever t o enrich m e in reput at ion, st at ion, fort une, anyt hing. There are reasons why I m ust say no m ore of t hat . I t is not m y secret , but anot her's.” As I was silent for a while, looking at Est ella and considering how t o go on, Miss Havisham repeat ed, “ I t is not your secret , but anot her's. Well?” “ When you first caused m e t o be brought here, Miss Havisham ; when I belonged t o t he village over yonder, t hat I wish I had never left ; I suppose I did really com e here, as any ot her chance boy m ight have com e—as a kind of servant , t o grat ify a want or a whim , and t o be paid for it ?” “ Ay, Pip,” replied Miss Havisham , st eadily nodding her head; “ you did.” “ And t hat Mr. Jaggers—” “ Mr. Jaggers,” said Miss Havisham , t aking m e up in a firm t one, “ had not hing t o do wit h it , and knew not hing of it . His being m y lawyer, and his being t he lawyer of your pat ron, is a coincidence. He holds t he sam e relat ion t owards num bers of people, and it m ight easily arise. Be t hat as it m ay, it did arise, and was not brought about by any one.” Any one m ight have seen in her haggard face t hat t here was no suppression or evasion so far. “ But when I fell int o t he m ist ake I have so long rem ained in, at least you led m e on?” said I . 504
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yes,” she ret urned, again nodding, st eadily, “ I let you go on.” “ Was t hat kind?” “ Who am I ,” cried Miss Havisham , st riking her st ick upon t he floor and flashing int o wrat h so suddenly t hat Est ella glanced up at her in surprise, “ who am I , for God's sake, t hat I should be kind?” I t was a weak com plaint t o have m ade, and I had not m eant t o m ake it . I t old her so, as she sat brooding aft er t his out burst . “ Well, well, well! ” she said. “ What else?” “ I was liberally paid for m y old at t endance here,” I said, t o soot he her, “ in being apprent iced, and I have asked t hese quest ions only for m y own inform at ion. What follows has anot her ( and I hope m ore disint erest ed) purpose. I n hum ouring m y m ist ake, Miss Havisham , you punished— pract ised on—perhaps you will supply what ever t erm expresses your int ent ion, wit hout offence—your self- seeking relat ions?” “ I did. Why, t hey would have it so! So would you. What has been m y hist ory, t hat I should be at t he pains of ent reat ing eit her t hem , or you, not t o have it so! You m ade your own snares. I never m ade t hem .” Wait ing unt il she was quiet again—for t his, t oo, flashed out of her in a wild and sudden way—I went on. “ I have been t hrown am ong one fam ily of your relat ions, Miss Havisham , and have been const ant ly am ong t hem since I went t o London. I know t hem t o have been as honest ly under m y delusion as I m yself. And I should be false and base 505
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
if I did not t ell you, whet her it is accept able t o you or no, and whet her you are inclined t o give credence t o it or no, t hat you deeply wrong bot h Mr. Mat t hew Pocket and his son Herbert , if you suppose t hem t o be ot herwise t han generous, upright , open, and incapable of anyt hing designing or m ean.” “ They are your friends,” said Miss Havisham . “ They m ade t hem selves m y friends,” said I , “ when t hey supposed m e t o have superseded t hem ; and when Sarah Pocket , Miss Georgiana, and Mist ress Cam illa, were not m y friends, I t hink.” This cont rast ing of t hem wit h t he rest seem ed, I was glad t o see, t o do t hem good wit h her. She looked at m e keenly for a lit t le while, and t hen said quiet ly: “ What do you want for t hem ?” “ Only,” said I , “ t hat you would not confound t hem wit h t he ot hers. They m ay be of t he sam e blood, but , believe m e, t hey are not of t he sam e nat ure.” St ill looking at m e keenly, Miss Havisham repeat ed: “ What do you want for t hem ?” “ I am not so cunning, you see,” I said, in answer, conscious t hat I reddened a lit t le, “ as t hat I could hide from you, even if I desired, t hat I do want som et hing. Miss Havisham , if you would spare t he m oney t o do m y friend Herbert a last ing service in life, but which from t he nat ure of t he case m ust be done wit hout his knowledge, I could show you how.” “ Why m ust it be done wit hout his knowledge?” she asked, set t ling her hands upon her st ick, t hat she m ight regard m e t he m ore at t ent ively. 506
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Because,” said I , “ I began t he service m yself, m ore t han t wo years ago, wit hout his knowledge, and I don't want t o be bet rayed. Why I fail in m y abilit y t o finish it , I cannot explain. I t is a part of t he secret which is anot her person's and not m ine.” She gradually wit hdrew her eyes from m e, and t urned t hem on t he fire. Aft er wat ching it for what appeared in t he silence and by t he light of t he slowly wast ing candles t o be a long t im e, she was roused by t he collapse of som e of t he red coals, and looked t owards m e again—at first , vacant ly—t hen, wit h a gradually concent rat ing at t ent ion. All t his t im e, Est ella knit t ed on. When Miss Havisham had fixed her at t ent ion on m e, she said, speaking as if t here had been no lapse in our dialogue: “ What else?” “ Est ella,” said I , t urning t o her now, and t rying t o com m and m y t rem bling voice, “ you know I love you. You know t hat I have loved you long and dearly.” She raised her eyes t o m y face, on being t hus addressed, and her fingers plied t heir work, and she looked at m e wit h an unm oved count enance. I saw t hat Miss Havisham glanced from m e t o her, and from her t o m e. “ I should have said t his sooner, but for m y long m ist ake. I t induced m e t o hope t hat Miss Havisham m eant us for one anot her. While I t hought you could not help yourself, as it were, I refrained from saying it . But I m ust say it now.” Preserving her unm oved count enance, and wit h her fingers st ill going, Est ella shook her head. 507
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I know,” said I , in answer t o t hat act ion; “ I know. I have no hope t hat I shall ever call you m ine, Est ella. I am ignorant what m ay becom e of m e very soon, how poor I m ay be, or where I m ay go. St ill, I love you. I have loved you ever since I first saw you in t his house.” Looking at m e perfect ly unm oved and wit h her fingers busy, she shook her head again. “ I t would have been cruel in Miss Havisham , horribly cruel, t o pract ise on t he suscept ibilit y of a poor boy, and t o t ort ure m e t hrough all t hese years wit h a vain hope and an idle pursuit , if she had reflect ed on t he gravit y of what she did. But I t hink she did not . I t hink t hat in t he endurance of her own t rial, she forgot m ine, Est ella.” I saw Miss Havisham put her hand t o her heart and hold it t here, as she sat looking by t urns at Est ella and at m e. “ I t seem s,” said Est ella, very calm ly, “ t hat t here are sent im ent s, fancies—I don't know how t o call t hem —which I am not able t o com prehend. When you say you love m e, I know what you m ean, as a form of words; but not hing m ore. You address not hing in m y breast , you t ouch not hing t here. I don't care for what you say at all. I have t ried t o warn you of t his; now, have I not ?” I said in a m iserable m anner, “ Yes.” “ Yes. But you would not be warned, for you t hought I did not m ean it . Now, did you not t hink so?” “ I t hought and hoped you could not m ean it . You, so young, unt ried, and beaut iful, Est ella! Surely it is not in Nat ure.” 508
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I t is in m y nat ure,” she ret urned. And t hen she added, wit h a st ress upon t he words, “ I t is in t he nat ure form ed wit hin m e. I m ake a great difference bet ween you and all ot her people when I say so m uch. I can do no m ore.” “ I s it not t rue,” said I , “ t hat Bent ley Drum m le is in t own here, and pursuing you?” “ I t is quit e t rue,” she replied, referring t o him wit h t he indifference of ut t er cont em pt . “ That you encourage him , and ride out wit h him , and t hat he dines wit h you t his very day?” She seem ed a lit t le surprised t hat I should know it , but again replied, “ Quit e t rue.” “ You cannot love him , Est ella! ” Her fingers st opped for t he first t im e, as she ret ort ed rat her angrily, “ What have I t old you? Do you st ill t hink, in spit e of it , t hat I do not m ean what I say?” “ You would never m arry him , Est ella?” She looked t owards Miss Havisham , and considered for a m om ent wit h her work in her hands. Then she said, “ Why not t ell you t he t rut h? I am going t o be m arried t o him .” I dropped m y face int o m y hands, but was able t o cont rol m yself bet t er t han I could have expect ed, considering what agony it gave m e t o hear her say t hose words. When I raised m y face again, t here was such a ghast ly look upon Miss Havisham 's, t hat it im pressed m e, even in m y passionat e hurry and grief. “ Est ella, dearest dearest Est ella, do not let Miss Havisham lead you int o t his fat al st ep. Put m e aside for ever—you have done so, I well know—but best ow yourself on som e wort hier 509
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
person t han Drum m le. Miss Havisham gives you t o him , as t he great est slight and inj ury t hat could be done t o t he m any far bet t er m en who adm ire you, and t o t he few who t ruly love you. Am ong t hose few, t here m ay be one who loves you even as dearly, t hough he has not loved you as long, as I . Take him , and I can bear it bet t er, for your sake! ” My earnest ness awoke a wonder in her t hat seem ed as if it would have been t ouched wit h com passion, if she could have rendered m e at all int elligible t o her own m ind. “ I am going,” she said again, in a gent ler voice, “ t o be m arried t o him . The preparat ions for m y m arriage are m aking, and I shall be m arried soon. Why do you inj uriously int roduce t he nam e of m y m ot her by adopt ion? I t is m y own act .” “ Your own act , Est ella, t o fling yourself away upon a brut e?” “ On whom should I fling m yself away?” she ret ort ed, wit h a sm ile. “ Should I fling m yself away upon t he m an who would t he soonest feel ( if people do feel such t hings) t hat I t ook not hing t o him ? There! I t is done. I shall do well enough, and so will m y husband. As t o leading m e int o what you call t his fat al st ep, Miss Havisham would have had m e wait , and not m arry yet ; but I am t ired of t he life I have led, which has very few charm s for m e, and I am willing enough t o change it . Say no m ore. We shall never underst and each ot her.” “ Such a m ean brut e, such a st upid brut e! ” I urged in despair.
510
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Don't be afraid of m y being a blessing t o him ,” said Est ella; “ I shall not be t hat . Com e! Here is m y hand. Do we part on t his, you visionary boy—or m an?” “ O Est ella! ” I answered, as m y bit t er t ears fell fast on her hand, do what I would t o rest rain t hem ; “ even if I rem ained in England and could hold m y head up wit h t he rest , how could I see you Drum m le's wife?” “ Nonsense,” she ret urned, “ nonsense. This will pass in no t im e.” “ Never, Est ella! ” “ You will get m e out of your t hought s in a week.” “ Out of m y t hought s! You are part of m y exist ence, part of m yself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first cam e here, t he rough com m on boy whose poor heart you wounded even t hen. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since—on t he river, on t he sails of t he ships, on t he m arshes, in t he clouds, in t he light , in t he darkness, in t he wind, in t he woods, in t he sea, in t he st reet s. You have been t he em bodim ent of every graceful fancy t hat m y m ind has ever becom e acquaint ed wit h. The st ones of which t he st rongest London buildings are m ade, are not m ore real, or m ore im possible t o be displaced by your hands, t han your presence and influence have been t o m e, t here and everywhere, and will be. Est ella, t o t he last hour of m y life, you cannot choose but rem ain part of m y charact er, part of t he lit t le good in m e, part of t he evil. But , in t his separat ion I associat e you only wit h t he good, and I will fait hfully hold you t o t hat always, for you m ust have done m e far m ore good 511
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t han harm , let m e feel now what sharp dist ress I m ay. O God bless you, God forgive you! ” I n what ecst asy of unhappiness I got t hese broken words out of m yself, I don't know. The rhapsody welled up wit hin m e, like blood from an inward wound, and gushed out . I held her hand t o m y lips som e lingering m om ent s, and so I left her. But ever aft erwards, I rem em bered—and soon aft erwards wit h st ronger reason—t hat while Est ella looked at m e m erely wit h incredulous wonder, t he spect ral figure of Miss Havisham , her hand st ill covering her heart , seem ed all resolved int o a ghast ly st are of pit y and rem orse. All done, all gone! So m uch was done and gone, t hat when I went out at t he gat e, t he light of t he day seem ed of a darker colour t han when I went in. For a while, I hid m yself am ong som e lanes and by- pat hs, and t hen st ruck off t o walk all t he way t o London. For, I had by t hat t im e com e t o m yself so far, as t o consider t hat I could not go back t o t he inn and see Drum m le t here; t hat I could not bear t o sit upon t he coach and be spoken t o; t hat I could do not hing half so good for m yself as t ire m yself out . I t was past m idnight when I crossed London Bridge. Pursuing t he narrow int ricacies of t he st reet s which at t hat t im e t ended west ward near t he Middlesex shore of t he river, m y readiest access t o t he Tem ple was close by t he river- side, t hrough Whit efriars. I was not expect ed t ill t o- m orrow, but I had m y keys, and, if Herbert were gone t o bed, could get t o bed m yself wit hout dist urbing him . As it seldom happened t hat I cam e in at t hat Whit efriars gat e aft er t he Tem ple was closed, and as I was very m uddy 512
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and weary, I did not t ake it ill t hat t he night - port er exam ined m e wit h m uch at t ent ion as he held t he gat e a lit t le way open for m e t o pass in. To help his m em ory I m ent ioned m y nam e. “ I was not quit e sure, sir, but I t hought so. Here's a not e, sir. The m essenger t hat brought it , said would you be so good as read it by m y lant ern?” Much surprised by t he request , I t ook t he not e. I t was direct ed t o Philip Pip, Esquire, and on t he t op of t he superscript ion were t he words, “ PLEASE READ THI S, HERE.” I opened it , t he wat chm an holding up his light , and read inside, in Wem m ick's writ ing: “ DON'T GO HOME.”
513
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 45 Turning from t he Tem ple gat e as soon as I had read t he warning, I m ade t he best of m y way t o Fleet - st reet , and t here got a lat e hackney chariot and drove t o t he Hum m um s in Covent Garden. I n t hose t im es a bed was always t o be got t here at any hour of t he night , and t he cham berlain, let t ing m e in at his ready wicket , light ed t he candle next in order on his shelf, and showed m e st raight int o t he bedroom next in order on his list . I t was a sort of vault on t he ground floor at t he back, wit h a despot ic m onst er of a four- post bedst ead in it , st raddling over t he whole place, put t ing one of his arbit rary legs int o t he fire- place and anot her int o t he doorway, and squeezing t he wret ched lit t le washing- st and in quit e a Divinely Right eous m anner. As I had asked for a night - light , t he cham berlain had brought m e in, before he left m e, t he good old const it ut ional rush- light of t hose virt uous days—an obj ect like t he ghost of a walking- cane, which inst ant ly broke it s back if it were t ouched, which not hing could ever be light ed at , and which was placed in solit ary confinem ent at t he bot t om of a high t in t ower, perforat ed wit h round holes t hat m ade a st aringly wide- awake pat t ern on t he walls. When I had got int o bed, and lay t here foot sore, weary, and wret ched, I found t hat I could no m ore close m y own eyes t han I could close t he eyes of t his foolish Argus. And t hus, in t he gloom and deat h of t he night , we st ared at one anot her. 514
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
What a doleful night ! How anxious, how dism al, how long! There was an inhospit able sm ell in t he room , of cold soot and hot dust ; and, as I looked up int o t he corners of t he t est er over m y head, I t hought what a num ber of blue- bot t le flies from t he but chers', and earwigs from t he m arket , and grubs from t he count ry, m ust be holding on up t here, lying by for next sum m er. This led m e t o speculat e whet her any of t hem ever t um bled down, and t hen I fancied t hat I felt light falls on m y face—a disagreeable t urn of t hought , suggest ing ot her and m ore obj ect ionable approaches up m y back. When I had lain awake a lit t le while, t hose ext raordinary voices wit h which silence t eem s, began t o m ake t hem selves audible. The closet whispered, t he fireplace sighed, t he lit t le washingst and t icked, and one guit ar- st ring played occasionally in t he chest of drawers. At about t he sam e t im e, t he eyes on t he wall acquired a new expression, and in every one of t hose st aring rounds I saw writ t en, DON'T GO HOME. What ever night - fancies and night - noises crowded on m e, t hey never warded off t his DON'T GO HOME. I t plait ed it self int o what ever I t hought of, as a bodily pain would have done. Not long before, I had read in t he newspapers, how a gent lem an unknown had com e t o t he Hum m um s in t he night , and had gone t o bed, and had dest royed him self, and had been found in t he m orning welt ering in blood. I t cam e int o m y head t hat he m ust have occupied t his very vault of m ine, and I got out of bed t o assure m yself t hat t here were no red m arks about ; t hen opened t he door t o look out int o t he passages, and cheer m yself wit h t he com panionship of a dist ant light , near which I knew t he cham berlain t o be dozing. 515
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
But all t his t im e, why I was not t o go hom e, and what had happened at hom e, and when I should go hom e, and whet her Provis was safe at hom e, were quest ions occupying m y m ind so busily, t hat one m ight have supposed t here could be no m ore room in it for any ot her t hem e. Even when I t hought of Est ella, and how we had part ed t hat day for ever, and when I recalled all t he circum st ances of our part ing, and all her looks and t ones, and t he act ion of her fingers while she knit t ed— even t hen I was pursuing, here and t here and everywhere, t he caut ion Don't go hom e. When at last I dozed, in sheer exhaust ion of m ind and body, it becam e a vast shadowy verb which I had t o conj ugat e. I m perat ive m ood, present t ense: Do not t hou go hom e, let him not go hom e, let us not go hom e, do not ye or you go hom e, let not t hem go hom e. Then, pot ent ially: I m ay not and I cannot go hom e; and I m ight not , could not , would not , and should not go hom e; unt il I felt t hat I was going dist ract ed, and rolled over on t he pillow, and looked at t he st aring rounds upon t he wall again. I had left direct ions t hat I was t o be called at seven; for it was plain t hat I m ust see Wem m ick before seeing any one else, and equally plain t hat t his was a case in which his Walwort h sent im ent s, only, could be t aken. I t was a relief t o get out of t he room where t he night had been so m iserable, and I needed no second knocking at t he door t o st art le m e from m y uneasy bed. The Cast le bat t lem ent s arose upon m y view at eight o'clock. The lit t le servant happening t o be ent ering t he fort ress wit h t wo hot rolls, I passed t hrough t he post ern and crossed t he drawbridge, in her com pany, and so cam e 516
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit hout announcem ent int o t he presence of Wem m ick as he was m aking t ea for him self and t he Aged. An open door afforded a perspect ive view of t he Aged in bed. “ Halloa, Mr. Pip! ” said Wem m ick. “ You did com e hom e, t hen?” “ Yes,” I ret urned; “ but I didn't go hom e.” “ That 's all right ,” said he, rubbing his hands. “ I left a not e for you at each of t he Tem ple gat es, on t he chance. Which gat e did you com e t o?” I t old him . “ I 'll go round t o t he ot hers in t he course of t he day and dest roy t he not es,” said Wem m ick; “ it 's a good rule never t o leave docum ent ary evidence if you can help it , because you don't know when it m ay be put in. I 'm going t o t ake a libert y wit h you.—Would you m ind t oast ing t his sausage for t he Aged P.?” I said I should be delight ed t o do it . “ Then you can go about your work, Mary Anne,” said Wem m ick t o t he lit t le servant ; “ which leaves us t o ourselves, don't you see, Mr. Pip?” he added, winking, as she disappeared. I t hanked him for his friendship and caut ion, and our discourse proceeded in a low t one, while I t oast ed t he Aged's sausage and he but t ered t he crum b of t he Aged's roll. “ Now, Mr. Pip, you know,” said Wem m ick, “ you and I underst and one anot her. We are in our privat e and personal capacit ies, and we have been engaged in a confident ial t ransact ion before t oday. Official sent im ent s are one t hing. We are ext ra official.” 517
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I cordially assent ed. I was so very nervous, t hat I had already light ed t he Aged's sausage like a t orch, and been obliged t o blow it out . “ I accident ally heard, yest erday m orning,” said Wem m ick, “ being in a cert ain place where I once t ook you—even bet ween you and m e, it 's as well not t o m ent ion nam es when avoidable—” “ Much bet t er not ,” said I . “ I underst and you.” “ I heard t here by chance, yest erday m orning,” said Wem m ick, “ t hat a cert ain person not alt oget her of uncolonial pursuit s, and not unpossessed of port able propert y—I don't know who it m ay really be—we won't nam e t his person—” “ Not necessary,” said I . “ —had m ade som e lit t le st ir in a cert ain part of t he world where a good m any people go, not always in grat ificat ion of t heir own inclinat ions, and not quit e irrespect ive of t he governm ent expense—” I n wat ching his face, I m ade quit e a firework of t he Aged's sausage, and great ly discom posed bot h m y own at t ent ion and Wem m ick's; for which I apologized. “ —by disappearing from such place, and being no m ore heard of t hereabout s. From which,” said Wem m ick, “ conj ect ures had been raised and t heories form ed. I also heard t hat you at your cham bers in Garden Court , Tem ple, had been wat ched, and m ight be wat ched again.” “ By whom ?” said I . “ I wouldn't go int o t hat ,” said Wem m ick, evasively, “ it m ight clash wit h official responsibilit ies. I heard it , as I have 518
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in m y t im e heard ot her curious t hings in t he sam e place. I don't t ell it you on inform at ion received. I heard it .” He t ook t he t oast ing- fork and sausage from m e as he spoke, and set fort h t he Aged's breakfast neat ly on a lit t le t ray. Previous t o placing it before him , he went int o t he Aged's room wit h a clean whit e clot h, and t ied t he sam e under t he old gent lem an's chin, and propped him up, and put his night cap on one side, and gave him quit e a rakish air. Then, he placed his breakfast before him wit h great care, and said, “ All right , ain't you, Aged P.?” To which t he cheerful Aged replied, “ All right , John, m y boy, all right ! ” As t here seem ed t o be a t acit underst anding t hat t he Aged was not in a present able st at e, and was t herefore t o be considered invisible, I m ade a pret ence of being in com plet e ignorance of t hese proceedings. “ This wat ching of m e at m y cham bers ( which I have once had reason t o suspect ) ,” I said t o Wem m ick when he cam e back, “ is inseparable from t he person t o whom you have advert ed; is it ?” Wem m ick looked very serious. “ I couldn't undert ake t o say t hat , of m y own knowledge. I m ean, I couldn't undert ake t o say it was at first . But it eit her is, or it will be, or it 's in great danger of being.” As I saw t hat he was rest rained by fealt y t o Lit t le Brit ain from saying as m uch as he could, and as I knew wit h t hankfulness t o him how far out of his way he went t o say what he did, I could not press him . But I t old him , aft er a lit t le m edit at ion over t he fire, t hat I would like t o ask him a quest ion, subj ect t o his answering or not answering, as he 519
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
deem ed right , and sure t hat his course would be right . He paused in his breakfast , and crossing his arm s, and pinching his shirt - sleeves ( his not ion of indoor com fort was t o sit wit hout any coat ) , he nodded t o m e once, t o put m y quest ion. “ You have heard of a m an of bad charact er, whose t rue nam e is Com peyson?” He answered wit h one ot her nod. “ I s he living?” One ot her nod. “ I s he in London?” He gave m e one ot her nod, com pressed t he post - office exceedingly, gave m e one last nod, and went on wit h his breakfast . “ Now,” said Wem m ick, “ quest ioning being over; ” which he em phasized and repeat ed for m y guidance; “ I com e t o what I did, aft er hearing what I heard. I went t o Garden Court t o find you; not finding you, I went t o Clarriker's t o find Mr. Herbert .” “ And him you found?” said I , wit h great anxiet y. “ And him I found. Wit hout m ent ioning any nam es or going int o any det ails, I gave him t o underst and t hat if he was aware of anybody—Tom , Jack, or Richard—being about t he cham bers, or about t he im m ediat e neighbourhood, he had bet t er get Tom , Jack, or Richard, out of t he way while you were out of t he way.” “ He would be great ly puzzled what t o do?” “ He was puzzled what t o do; not t he less, because I gave him m y opinion t hat it was not safe t o t ry t o get Tom , Jack, or Richard, t oo far out of t he way at present . Mr. Pip, I 'll t ell 520
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
you som et hing. Under exist ing circum st ances t here is no place like a great cit y when you are once in it . Don't break cover t oo soon. Lie close. Wait t ill t hings slacken, before you t ry t he open, even for foreign air.” I t hanked him for his valuable advice, and asked him what Herbert had done? “ Mr. Herbert ,” said Wem m ick, “ aft er being all of a heap for half an hour, st ruck out a plan. He m ent ioned t o m e as a secret , t hat he is court ing a young lady who has, as no doubt you are aware, a bedridden Pa. Which Pa, having been in t he Purser line of life, lies a- bed in a bow- window where he can see t he ships sail up and down t he river. You are acquaint ed wit h t he young lady, m ost probably?” “ Not personally,” said I . The t rut h was, t hat she had obj ect ed t o m e as an expensive com panion who did Herbert no good, and t hat , when Herbert had first proposed t o present m e t o her, she had received t he proposal wit h such very m oderat e warm t h, t hat Herbert had felt him self obliged t o confide t he st at e of t he case t o m e, wit h a view t o t he lapse of a lit t le t im e before I m ade her acquaint ance. When I had begun t o advance Herbert 's prospect s by St ealt h, I had been able t o bear t his wit h cheerful philosophy; he and his affianced, for t heir part , had nat urally not been very anxious t o int roduce a t hird person int o t heir int erviews; and t hus, alt hough I was assured t hat I had risen in Clara's est eem , and alt hough t he young lady and I had long regularly int erchanged m essages and rem em brances by Herbert , I had never seen her. However, I did not t rouble Wem m ick wit h t hese part iculars. 521
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ The house wit h t he bow- window,” said Wem m ick, “ being by t he river- side, down t he Pool t here bet ween Lim ehouse and Greenwich, and being kept , it seem s, by a very respect able widow who has a furnished upper floor t o let , Mr. Herbert put it t o m e, what did I t hink of t hat as a t em porary t enem ent for Tom , Jack, or Richard? Now, I t hought very well of it , for t hree reasons I 'll give you. That is t o say. First ly. I t 's alt oget her out of all your beat s, and is well away from t he usual heap of st reet s great and sm all. Secondly. Wit hout going near it yourself, you could always hear of t he safet y of Tom , Jack, or Richard, t hrough Mr. Herbert . Thirdly. Aft er a while and when it m ight be prudent , if you should want t o slip Tom , Jack, or Richard, on board a foreign packet - boat , t here he is—ready.” Much com fort ed by t hese considerat ions, I t hanked Wem m ick again and again, and begged him t o proceed. “ Well, sir! Mr. Herbert t hrew him self int o t he business wit h a will, and by nine o'clock last night he housed Tom , Jack, or Richard—whichever it m ay be—you and I don't want t o know—quit e successfully. At t he old lodgings it was underst ood t hat he was sum m oned t o Dover, and in fact he was t aken down t he Dover road and cornered out of it . Now, anot her great advant age of all t his, is, t hat it was done wit hout you, and when, if any one was concerning him self about your m ovem ent s, you m ust be known t o be ever so m any m iles off and quit e ot herwise engaged. This divert s suspicion and confuses it ; and for t he sam e reason I recom m ended t hat even if you cam e back last night , you 522
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
should not go hom e. I t brings in m ore confusion, and you want confusion.” Wem m ick, having finished his breakfast , here looked at his wat ch, and began t o get his coat on. “ And now, Mr. Pip,” said he, wit h his hands st ill in t he sleeves, “ I have probably done t he m ost I can do; but if I can ever do m ore—from a Walwort h point of view, and in a st rict ly privat e and personal capacit y—I shall be glad t o do it . Here's t he address. There can be no harm in your going here t o- night and seeing for yourself t hat all is well wit h Tom , Jack, or Richard, before you go hom e—which is anot her reason for your not going hom e last night . But aft er you have gone hom e, don't go back here. You are very welcom e, I am sure, Mr. Pip; ” his hands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking t hem ; “ and let m e finally im press one im port ant point upon you.” He laid his hands upon m y shoulders, and added in a solem n whisper: “ Avail yourself of t his evening t o lay hold of his port able propert y. You don't know what m ay happen t o him . Don't let anyt hing happen t o t he port able propert y.” Quit e despairing of m aking m y m ind clear t o Wem m ick on t his point , I forbore t o t ry. “ Tim e's up,” said Wem m ick, “ and I m ust be off. I f you had not hing m ore pressing t o do t han t o keep here t ill dark, t hat 's what I should advise. You look very m uch worried, and it would do you good t o have a perfect ly quiet day wit h t he Aged—he'll be up present ly—and a lit t le bit of—you rem em ber t he pig?” “ Of course,” said I . 523
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Well; and a lit t le bit of him . That sausage you t oast ed was his, and he was in all respect s a first - rat er. Do t ry him , if it is only for old acquaint ance sake. Good- bye, Aged Parent ! ” in a cheery shout . “ All right , John; all right , m y boy! ” piped t he old m an from wit hin. I soon fell asleep before Wem m ick's fire, and t he Aged and I enj oyed one anot her's societ y by falling asleep before it m ore or less all day. We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown on t he est at e, and I nodded at t he Aged wit h a good int ent ion whenever I failed t o do it drowsily. When it was quit e dark, I left t he Aged preparing t he fire for t oast ; and I inferred from t he num ber of t eacups, as well as from his glances at t he t wo lit t le doors in t he wall, t hat Miss Skiffins was expect ed.
524
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 46 Eight o'clock had st ruck before I got int o t he air t hat was scent ed, not disagreeably, by t he chips and shavings of t he long- shore boat builders, and m ast oar and block m akers. All t hat wat er- side region of t he upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was unknown ground t o m e, and when I st ruck down by t he river, I found t hat t he spot I want ed was not where I had supposed it t o be, and was anyt hing but easy t o find. I t was called Mill Pond Bank, Chinks's Basin; and I had no ot her guide t o Chinks's Basin t han t he Old Green Copper RopeWalk. I t m at t ers not what st randed ships repairing in dry docks I lost m yself am ong, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked t o pieces, what ooze and slim e and ot her dregs of t ide, what yards of ship- builders and ship- breakers, what rust y anchors blindly bit ing int o t he ground t hough for years off dut y, what m ount ainous count ry of accum ulat ed casks and t im ber, how m any rope- walks t hat were not t he Old Green Copper. Aft er several t im es falling short of m y dest inat ion and as oft en over- shoot ing it , I cam e unexpect edly round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. I t was a fresh kind of place, all circum st ances considered, where t he wind from t he river had room t o t urn it self round; and t here were t wo or t hree t rees in it , and t here was t he st um p of a ruined windm ill, and t here was t he Old Green Copper Rope- Walk—whose long and narrow vist a I could t race in t he m oonlight , along a series of wooden fram es set in t he ground, t hat looked like 525
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
superannuat ed haym aking- rakes which had grown old and lost m ost of t heir t eet h. Select ing from t he few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank, a house wit h a wooden front and t hree st ories of bow- window ( not bay- window, which is anot her t hing) , I looked at t he plat e upon t he door, and read t here, Mrs. Whim ple. That being t he nam e I want ed, I knocked, and an elderly wom an of a pleasant and t hriving appearance responded. She was im m ediat ely deposed, however, by Herbert , who silent ly led m e int o t he parlour and shut t he door. I t was an odd sensat ion t o see his very fam iliar face est ablished quit e at hom e in t hat very unfam iliar room and region; and I found m yself looking at him , m uch as I looked at t he cornercupboard wit h t he glass and china, t he shells upon t he chim ney- piece, and t he coloured engravings on t he wall, represent ing t he deat h of Capt ain Cook, a ship- launch, and his Maj est y King George t he Third in a st at e- coachm an's wig, leat her- breeches, and t op- boot s, on t he t errace at Windsor. “ All is well, Handel,” said Herbert , “ and he is quit e sat isfied, t hough eager t o see you. My dear girl is wit h her fat her; and if you'll wait t ill she com es down, I 'll m ake you known t o her, and t hen we'll go up- st airs.—That 's her fat her.” I had becom e aware of an alarm ing growling overhead, and had probably expressed t he fact in m y count enance. “ I am afraid he is a sad old rascal,” said Herbert , sm iling, “ but I have never seen him . Don't you sm ell rum ? He is always at it .” “ At rum ?” said I . 526
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yes,” ret urned Herbert , “ and you m ay suppose how m ild it m akes his gout . He persist s, t oo, in keeping all t he provisions upst airs in his room , and serving t hem out . He keeps t hem on shelves over his head, and will weigh t hem all. His room m ust be like a chandler's shop.” While he t hus spoke, t he growling noise becam e a prolonged roar, and t hen died away. “ What else can be t he consequence,” said Herbert , in explanat ion, “ if he will cut t he cheese? A m an wit h t he gout in his right hand—and everywhere else—can't expect t o get t hrough a Double Gloucest er wit hout hurt ing him self.” He seem ed t o have hurt him self very m uch, for he gave anot her furious roar. “ To have Provis for an upper lodger is quit e a godsend t o Mrs. Whim ple,” said Herbert , “ for of course people in general won't st and t hat noise. A curious place, Handel; isn't it ?” I t was a curious place, indeed; but rem arkably well kept and clean. “ Mrs. Whim ple,” said Herbert , when I t old him so, “ is t he best of housewives, and I really do not know what m y Clara would do wit hout her m ot herly help. For, Clara has no m ot her of her own, Handel, and no relat ion in t he world but old Gruffandgrim .” “ Surely t hat 's not his nam e, Herbert ?” “ No, no,” said Herbert , “ t hat 's m y nam e for him . His nam e is Mr. Barley. But what a blessing it is for t he son of m y fat her and m ot her, t o love a girl who has no relat ions, and who can never bot her herself, or anybody else, about her fam ily! ” 527
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Herbert had t old m e on form er occasions, and now rem inded m e, t hat he first knew Miss Clara Barley when she was com plet ing her educat ion at an est ablishm ent at Ham m ersm it h, and t hat on her being recalled hom e t o nurse her fat her, he and she had confided t heir affect ion t o t he m ot herly Mrs. Whim ple, by whom it had been fost ered and regulat ed wit h equal kindness and discret ion, ever since. I t was underst ood t hat not hing of a t ender nat ure could possibly be confided t o old Barley, by reason of his being t ot ally unequal t o t he considerat ion of any subj ect m ore psychological t han Gout , Rum , and Purser's st ores. As we were t hus conversing in a low t one while Old Barley's sust ained growl vibrat ed in t he beam t hat crossed t he ceiling, t he room door opened, and a very pret t y slight dark- eyed girl of t went y or so, cam e in wit h a basket in her hand: whom Herbert t enderly relieved of t he basket , and present ed blushing, as “ Clara.” She really was a m ost charm ing girl, and m ight have passed for a capt ive fairy, whom t hat t ruculent Ogre, Old Barley, had pressed int o his service. “ Look here,” said Herbert , showing m e t he basket , wit h a com passionat e and t ender sm ile aft er we had t alked a lit t le; “ here's poor Clara's supper, served out every night . Here's her allowance of bread, and here's her slice of cheese, and here's her rum —which I drink. This is Mr. Barley's breakfast for t o- m orrow, served out t o be cooked. Two m ut t on chops, t hree pot at oes, som e split peas, a lit t le flour, t wo ounces of but t er, a pinch of salt , and all t his black pepper. I t 's st ewed 528
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
up t oget her, and t aken hot , and it 's a nice t hing for t he gout , I should t hink! ” There was som et hing so nat ural and winning in Clara's resigned way of looking at t hese st ores in det ail, as Herbert point ed t hem out ,—and som et hing so confiding, loving, and innocent , in her m odest m anner of yielding herself t o Herbert 's em bracing arm —and som et hing so gent le in her, so m uch needing prot ect ion on Mill Pond Bank, by Chinks's Basin, and t he Old Green Copper Rope- Walk, wit h Old Barley growling in t he beam —t hat I would not have undone t he engagem ent bet ween her and Herbert , for all t he m oney in t he pocket - book I had never opened. I was looking at her wit h pleasure and adm irat ion, when suddenly t he growl swelled int o a roar again, and a fright ful bum ping noise was heard above, as if a giant wit h a wooden leg were t rying t o bore it t hrough t he ceiling t o com e t o us. Upon t his Clara said t o Herbert , “ Papa want s m e, darling! ” and ran away. “ There is an unconscionable old shark for you! ” said Herbert . “ What do you suppose he want s now, Handel?” “ I don't know,” said I . “ Som et hing t o drink?” “ That 's it ! ” cried Herbert , as if I had m ade a guess of ext raordinary m erit . “ He keeps his grog ready- m ixed in a lit t le t ub on t he t able. Wait a m om ent , and you'll hear Clara lift him up t o t ake som e.—There he goes! ” Anot her roar, wit h a prolonged shake at t he end. “ Now,” said Herbert , as it was succeeded by silence, “ he's drinking. Now,” said Herbert , as t he growl resounded in t he beam once m ore, “ he's down again on his back! ” 529
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Clara ret urned soon aft erwards, and Herbert accom panied m e up- st airs t o see our charge. As we passed Mr. Barley's door, he was heard hoarsely m ut t ering wit hin, in a st rain t hat rose and fell like wind, t he following Refrain; in which I subst it ut e good wishes for som et hing quit e t he reverse. “ Ahoy! Bless your eyes, here's old Bill Barley. Here's old Bill Barley, bless your eyes. Here's old Bill Barley on t he flat of his back, by t he Lord. Lying on t he flat of his back, like a drift ing old dead flounder, here's your old Bill Barley, bless your eyes. Ahoy! Bless you.” I n t his st rain of consolat ion, Herbert inform ed m e t he invisible Barley would com m une wit h him self by t he day and night t oget her; oft en while it was light , having, at t he sam e t im e, one eye at a t elescope which was fit t ed on his bed for t he convenience of sweeping t he river. I n his t wo cabin room s at t he t op of t he house, which were fresh and airy, and in which Mr. Barley was less audible t han below, I found Provis com fort ably set t led. He expressed no alarm , and seem ed t o feel none t hat was wort h m ent ioning; but it st ruck m e t hat he was soft ened—indefinably, for I could not have said how, and could never aft erwards recall how when I t ried; but cert ainly. The opport unit y t hat t he day's rest had given m e for reflect ion, had result ed in m y fully det erm ining t o say not hing t o him respect ing Com peyson. For anyt hing I knew, his anim osit y t owards t he m an m ight ot herwise lead t o his seeking him out and rushing on his own dest ruct ion. Therefore, when Herbert and I sat down wit h him by his fire, I 530
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
asked him first of all whet her he relied on Wem m ick's j udgm ent and sources of inform at ion? “ Ay, ay, dear boy! ” he answered, wit h a grave nod, “ Jaggers knows.” “ Then, I have t alked wit h Wem m ick,” said I , “ and have com e t o t ell you what caut ion he gave m e and what advice.” This I did accurat ely, wit h t he reservat ion j ust m ent ioned; and I t old him how Wem m ick had heard, in Newgat e prison ( whet her from officers or prisoners I could not say) , t hat he was under som e suspicion, and t hat m y cham bers had been wat ched; how Wem m ick had recom m ended his keeping close for a t im e, and m y keeping away from him ; and what Wem m ick had said about get t ing him abroad. I added, t hat of course, when t he t im e cam e, I should go wit h him , or should follow close upon him , as m ight be safest in Wem m ick's j udgm ent . What was t o follow t hat , I did not t ouch upon; neit her indeed was I at all clear or com fort able about it in m y own m ind, now t hat I saw him in t hat soft er condit ion, and in declared peril for m y sake. As t o alt ering m y way of living, by enlarging m y expenses, I put it t o him whet her in our present unset t led and difficult circum st ances, it would not be sim ply ridiculous, if it were no worse? He could not deny t his, and indeed was very reasonable t hroughout . His com ing back was a vent ure, he said, and he had always known it t o be a vent ure. He would do not hing t o m ake it a desperat e vent ure, and he had very lit t le fear of his safet y wit h such good help. Herbert , who had been looking at t he fire and pondering, here said t hat som et hing had com e int o his t hought s arising 531
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
out of Wem m ick's suggest ion, which it m ight be wort h while t o pursue. “ We are bot h good wat erm en, Handel, and could t ake him down t he river ourselves when t he right t im e com es. No boat would t hen be hired for t he purpose, and no boat m en; t hat would save at least a chance of suspicion, and any chance is wort h saving. Never m ind t he season; don't you t hink it m ight be a good t hing if you began at once t o keep a boat at t he Tem ple st airs, and were in t he habit of rowing up and down t he river? You fall int o t hat habit , and t hen who not ices or m inds? Do it t went y or fift y t im es, and t here is not hing special in your doing it t he t went y- first or fift y- first .” I liked t his schem e, and Provis was quit e elat ed by it . We agreed t hat it should be carried int o execut ion, and t hat Provis should never recognize us if we cam e below Bridge and rowed past Mill Pond Bank. But , we furt her agreed t hat he should pull down t he blind in t hat part of his window which gave upon t he east , whenever he saw us and all was right . Our conference being now ended, and everyt hing arranged, I rose t o go; rem arking t o Herbert t hat he and I had bet t er not go hom e t oget her, and t hat I would t ake half an hour's st art of him . “ I don't like t o leave you here,” I said t o Provis, “ t hough I cannot doubt your being safer here t han near m e. Good- bye! ” “ Dear boy,” he answered, clasping m y hands, “ I don't know when we m ay m eet again, and I don't like Good- bye. Say Good Night ! ” “ Good night ! Herbert will go regularly bet ween us, and when t he t im e com es you m ay be cert ain I shall be ready. Good night , Good night ! ” 532
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
We t hought it best t hat he should st ay in his own room s, and we left him on t he landing out side his door, holding a light over t he st air- rail t o light us down st airs. Looking back at him , I t hought of t he first night of his ret urn when our posit ions were reversed, and when I lit t le supposed m y heart could ever be as heavy and anxious at part ing from him as it was now. Old Barley was growling and swearing when we repassed his door, wit h no appearance of having ceased or of m eaning t o cease. When we got t o t he foot of t he st airs, I asked Herbert whet her he had preserved t he nam e of Provis. He replied, cert ainly not , and t hat t he lodger was Mr. Cam pbell. He also explained t hat t he ut m ost known of Mr. Cam pbell t here, was, t hat he ( Herbert ) had Mr. Cam pbell consigned t o him , and felt a st rong personal int erest in his being well cared for, and living a secluded life. So, when we went int o t he parlour where Mrs. Whim ple and Clara were seat ed at work, I said not hing of m y own int erest in Mr. Cam pbell, but kept it t o m yself. When I had t aken leave of t he pret t y gent le dark- eyed girl, and of t he m ot herly wom an who had not out lived her honest sym pat hy wit h a lit t le affair of t rue love, I felt as if t he Old Green Copper Rope- Walk had grown quit e a different place. Old Barley m ight be as old as t he hills, and m ight swear like a whole field of t roopers, but t here were redeem ing yout h and t rust and hope enough in Chinks's Basin t o fill it t o overflowing. And t hen I t hought of Est ella, and of our part ing, and went hom e very sadly. 533
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
All t hings were as quiet in t he Tem ple as ever I had seen t hem . The windows of t he room s on t hat side, lat ely occupied by Provis, were dark and st ill, and t here was no lounger in Garden Court . I walked past t he fount ain t wice or t hrice before I descended t he st eps t hat were bet ween m e and m y room s, but I was quit e alone. Herbert com ing t o m y bedside when he cam e in—for I went st raight t o bed, dispirit ed and fat igued—m ade t he sam e report . Opening one of t he windows aft er t hat , he looked out int o t he m oonlight , and t old m e t hat t he pavem ent was a solem nly em pt y as t he pavem ent of any Cat hedral at t hat sam e hour. Next day, I set m yself t o get t he boat . I t was soon done, and t he boat was brought round t o t he Tem ple st airs, and lay where I could reach her wit hin a m inut e or t wo. Then, I began t o go out as for t raining and pract ice: som et im es alone, som et im es wit h Herbert . I was oft en out in cold, rain, and sleet , but nobody t ook m uch not e of m e aft er I had been out a few t im es. At first , I kept above Blackfriars Bridge; but as t he hours of t he t ide changed, I t ook t owards London Bridge. I t was Old London Bridge in t hose days, and at cert ain st at es of t he t ide t here was a race and fall of wat er t here which gave it a bad reput at ion. But I knew well enough how t o “ shoot ’ t he bridge aft er seeing it done, and so began t o row about am ong t he shipping in t he Pool, and down t o Erit h. The first t im e I passed Mill Pond Bank, Herbert and I were pulling a pair of oars; and, bot h in going and ret urning, we saw t he blind t owards t he east com e down. Herbert was rarely t here less frequent ly t han t hree t im es in a week, and he never brought m e a single word of int elligence t hat was at all 534
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
alarm ing. St ill, I knew t hat t here was cause for alarm , and I could not get rid of t he not ion of being wat ched. Once received, it is a haunt ing idea; how m any undesigning persons I suspect ed of wat ching m e, it would be hard t o calculat e. I n short , I was always full of fears for t he rash m an who was in hiding. Herbert had som et im es said t o m e t hat he found it pleasant t o st and at one of our windows aft er dark, when t he t ide was running down, and t o t hink t hat it was flowing, wit h everyt hing it bore, t owards Clara. But I t hought wit h dread t hat it was flowing t owards Magwit ch, and t hat any black m ark on it s surface m ight be his pursuers, going swift ly, silent ly, and surely, t o t ake him .
535
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 47 Som e weeks passed wit hout bringing any change. We wait ed for Wem m ick, and he m ade no sign. I f I had never known him out of Lit t le Brit ain, and had never enj oyed t he privilege of being on a fam iliar foot ing at t he Cast le, I m ight have doubt ed him ; not so for a m om ent , knowing him as I did. My worldly affairs began t o wear a gloom y appearance, and I was pressed for m oney by m ore t han one credit or. Even I m yself began t o know t he want of m oney ( I m ean of ready m oney in m y own pocket ) , and t o relieve it by convert ing som e easily spared art icles of j ewellery int o cash. But I had quit e det erm ined t hat it would be a heart less fraud t o t ake m ore m oney from m y pat ron in t he exist ing st at e of m y uncert ain t hought s and plans. Therefore, I had sent him t he unopened pocket - book by Herbert , t o hold in his own keeping, and I felt a kind of sat isfact ion—whet her it was a false kind or a t rue, I hardly know—in not having profit ed by his generosit y since his revelat ion of him self. As t he t im e wore on, an im pression set t led heavily upon m e t hat Est ella was m arried. Fearful of having it confirm ed, t hough it was all but a convict ion, I avoided t he newspapers, and begged Herbert ( t o whom I had confided t he circum st ances of our last int erview) never t o speak of her t o m e. Why I hoarded up t his last wret ched lit t le rag of t he robe of hope t hat was rent and given t o t he winds, how do I know! 536
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Why did you who read t his, com m it t hat not dissim ilar inconsist ency of your own, last year, last m ont h, last week? I t was an unhappy life t hat I lived, and it s one dom inant anxiet y, t owering over all it s ot her anxiet ies like a high m ount ain above a range of m ount ains, never disappeared from m y view. St ill, no new cause for fear arose. Let m e st art from m y bed as I would, wit h t he t error fresh upon m e t hat he was discovered; let m e sit list ening as I would, wit h dread, for Herbert 's ret urning st ep at night , lest it should be fleet er t han ordinary, and winged wit h evil news; for all t hat , and m uch m ore t o like purpose, t he round of t hings went on. Condem ned t o inact ion and a st at e of const ant rest lessness and suspense, I rowed about in m y boat , and wait ed, wait ed, wait ed, as I best could. There were st at es of t he t ide when, having been down t he river, I could not get back t hrough t he eddy- chafed arches and st arlings of old London Bridge; t hen, I left m y boat at a wharf near t he Cust om House, t o be brought up aft erwards t o t he Tem ple st airs. I was not averse t o doing t his, as it served t o m ake m e and m y boat a com m oner incident am ong t he wat er- side people t here. From t his slight occasion, sprang t wo m eet ings t hat I have now t o t ell of. One aft ernoon, lat e in t he m ont h of February, I cam e ashore at t he wharf at dusk. I had pulled down as far as Greenwich wit h t he ebb t ide, and had t urned wit h t he t ide. I t had been a fine bright day, but had becom e foggy as t he sun dropped, and I had had t o feel m y way back am ong t he shipping, pret t y carefully. Bot h in going and ret urning, I had seen t he signal in his window, All well. 537
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
As it was a raw evening and I was cold, I t hought I would com fort m yself wit h dinner at once; and as I had hours of dej ect ion and solit ude before m e if I went hom e t o t he Tem ple, I t hought I would aft erwards go t o t he play. The t heat re where Mr. Wopsle had achieved his quest ionable t rium ph, was in t hat wat erside neighbourhood ( it is nowhere now) , and t o t hat t heat re I resolved t o go. I was aware t hat Mr. Wopsle had not succeeded in reviving t he Dram a, but , on t he cont rary, had rat her part aken of it s decline. He had been om inously heard of, t hrough t he playbills, as a fait hful Black, in connexion wit h a lit t le girl of noble birt h, and a m onkey. And Herbert had seen him as a predat ory Tart ar of com ic propensit ies, wit h a face like a red brick, and an out rageous hat all over bells. I dined at what Herbert and I used t o call a Geographical chop- house—where t here were m aps of t he world in port erpot rim s on every half- yard of t he t able- clot hs, and chart s of gravy on every one of t he knives—t o t his day t here is scarcely a single chop- house wit hin t he Lord Mayor's dom inions which is not Geographical—and wore out t he t im e in dozing over crum bs, st aring at gas, and baking in a hot blast of dinners. By- and- by, I roused m yself and went t o t he play. There, I found a virt uous boat swain in his Maj est y's service—a m ost excellent m an, t hough I could have wished his t rousers not quit e so t ight in som e places and not quit e so loose in ot hers—who knocked all t he lit t le m en's hat s over t heir eyes, t hough he was very generous and brave, and who wouldn't hear of anybody's paying t axes, t hough he was very pat riot ic. He had a bag of m oney in his pocket , like a pudding 538
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in t he clot h, and on t hat propert y m arried a young person in bed- furnit ure, wit h great rej oicings; t he whole populat ion of Port sm out h ( nine in num ber at t he last Census) t urning out on t he beach, t o rub t heir own hands and shake everybody else's, and sing “ Fill, fill! ” A cert ain dark- com plexioned Swab, however, who wouldn't fill, or do anyt hing else t hat was proposed t o him , and whose heart was openly st at ed ( by t he boat swain) t o be as black as his figure- head, proposed t o t wo ot her Swabs t o get all m ankind int o difficult ies; which was so effect ually done ( t he Swab fam ily having considerable polit ical influence) t hat it t ook half t he evening t o set t hings right , and t hen it was only brought about t hrough an honest lit t le grocer wit h a whit e hat , black gait ers, and red nose, get t ing int o a clock, wit h a gridiron, and list ening, and com ing out , and knocking everybody down from behind wit h t he gridiron whom he couldn't confut e wit h what he had overheard. This led t o Mr. Wopsle's ( who had never been heard of before) com ing in wit h a st ar and gart er on, as a plenipot ent iary of great power direct from t he Adm iralt y, t o say t hat t he Swabs were all t o go t o prison on t he spot , and t hat he had brought t he boat swain down t he Union Jack, as a slight acknowledgm ent of his public services. The boat swain, unm anned for t he first t im e, respect fully dried his eyes on t he Jack, and t hen cheering up and addressing Mr. Wopsle as Your Honour, solicit ed perm ission t o t ake him by t he fin. Mr. Wopsle conceding his fin wit h a gracious dignit y, was im m ediat ely shoved int o a dust y corner while everybody danced a hornpipe; and from t hat corner, surveying t he public wit h a discont ent ed eye, becam e aware of m e. 539
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The second piece was t he last new grand com ic Christ m as pant om im e, in t he first scene of which, it pained m e t o suspect t hat I det ect ed Mr. Wopsle wit h red worst ed legs under a highly m agnified phosphoric count enance and a shock of red curt ain- fringe for his hair, engaged in t he m anufact ure of t hunderbolt s in a m ine, and displaying great cowardice when his gigant ic m ast er cam e hom e ( very hoarse) t o dinner. But he present ly present ed him self under wort hier circum st ances; for, t he Genius of Yout hful Love being in want of assist ance—on account of t he parent al brut alit y of an ignorant farm er who opposed t he choice of his daught er's heart , by purposely falling upon t he obj ect , in a flour sack, out of t he first floor window—sum m oned a sent ent ious Enchant er; and he, com ing up from t he ant ipodes rat her unst eadily, aft er an apparent ly violent j ourney, proved t o be Mr. Wopsle in a high- crowned hat , wit h a necrom ant ic work in one volum e under his arm . The business of t his enchant er on eart h, being principally t o be t alked at , sung at , but t ed at , danced at , and flashed at wit h fires of various colours, he had a good deal of t im e on his hands. And I observed wit h great surprise, t hat he devot ed it t o st aring in m y direct ion as if he were lost in am azem ent . There was som et hing so rem arkable in t he increasing glare of Mr. Wopsle's eye, and he seem ed t o be t urning so m any t hings over in his m ind and t o grow so confused, t hat I could not m ake it out . I sat t hinking of it , long aft er he had ascended t o t he clouds in a large wat ch- case, and st ill I could not m ake it out . I was st ill t hinking of it when I cam e out of 540
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t he t heat re an hour aft erwards, and found him wait ing for m e near t he door. “ How do you do?” said I , shaking hands wit h him as we t urned down t he st reet t oget her. “ I saw t hat you saw m e.” “ Saw you, Mr. Pip! ” he ret urned. “ Yes, of course I saw you. But who else was t here?” “ Who else?” “ I t is t he st rangest t hing,” said Mr. Wopsle, drift ing int o his lost look again; “ and yet I could swear t o him .” Becom ing alarm ed, I ent reat ed Mr. Wopsle t o explain his m eaning. “ Whet her I should have not iced him at first but for your being t here,” said Mr. Wopsle, going on in t he sam e lost way, “ I can't be posit ive; yet I t hink I should.” I nvolunt arily I looked round m e, as I was accust om ed t o look round m e when I went hom e; for, t hese m yst erious words gave m e a chill. “ Oh! He can't be in sight ,” said Mr. Wopsle. “ He went out , before I went off, I saw him go.” Having t he reason t hat I had, for being suspicious, I even suspect ed t his poor act or. I m ist rust ed a design t o ent rap m e int o som e adm ission. Therefore, I glanced at him as we walked on t oget her, but said not hing. “ I had a ridiculous fancy t hat he m ust be wit h you, Mr. Pip, t ill I saw t hat you were quit e unconscious of him , sit t ing behind you t here, like a ghost .” My form er chill crept over m e again, but I was resolved not t o speak yet , for it was quit e consist ent wit h his words t hat he m ight be set on t o induce m e t o connect t hese references 541
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit h Provis. Of course, I was perfect ly sure and safe t hat Provis had not been t here. “ I dare say you wonder at m e, Mr. Pip; indeed I see you do. But it is so very st range! You'll hardly believe what I am going t o t ell you. I could hardly believe it m yself, if you t old m e.” “ I ndeed?” said I . “ No, indeed. Mr. Pip, you rem em ber in old t im es a cert ain Christ m as Day, when you were quit e a child, and I dined at Gargery's, and som e soldiers cam e t o t he door t o get a pair of handcuffs m ended?” “ I rem em ber it very well.” “ And you rem em ber t hat t here was a chase aft er t wo convict s, and t hat we j oined in it , and t hat Gargery t ook you on his back, and t hat I t ook t he lead and you kept up wit h m e as well as you could?” “ I rem em ber it all very well.” Bet t er t han he t hought — except t he last clause. “ And you rem em ber t hat we cam e up wit h t he t wo in a dit ch, and t hat t here was a scuffle bet ween t hem , and t hat one of t hem had been severely handled and m uch m auled about t he face, by t he ot her?” “ I see it all before m e.” “ And t hat t he soldiers light ed t orches, and put t he t wo in t he cent re, and t hat we went on t o see t he last of t hem , over t he black m arshes, wit h t he t orchlight shining on t heir faces— I am part icular about t hat ; wit h t he t orchlight shining on t heir faces, when t here was an out er ring of dark night all about us?” 542
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Yes,” said I . “ I rem em ber all t hat .” “ Then, Mr. Pip, one of t hose t wo prisoners sat behind you t onight . I saw him over your shoulder.” “ St eady! ” I t hought . I asked him t hen, “ Which of t he t wo do you suppose you saw?” “ The one who had been m auled,” he answered readily, “ and I 'll swear I saw him ! The m ore I t hink of him , t he m ore cert ain I am of him .” “ This is very curious! ” said I , wit h t he best assum pt ion I could put on, of it s being not hing m ore t o m e. “ Very curious indeed! ” I cannot exaggerat e t he enhanced disquiet int o which t his conversat ion t hrew m e, or t he special and peculiar t error I felt at Com peyson's having been behind m e “ like a ghost .” For, if he had ever been out of m y t hought s for a few m om ent s t oget her since t he hiding had begun, it was in t hose very m om ent s when he was closest t o m e; and t o t hink t hat I should be so unconscious and off m y guard aft er all m y care, was as if I had shut an avenue of a hundred doors t o keep him out , and t hen had found him at m y elbow. I could not doubt eit her t hat he was t here, because I was t here, and t hat however slight an appearance of danger t here m ight be about us, danger was always near and act ive. I put such quest ions t o Mr. Wopsle as, When did t he m an com e in? He could not t ell m e t hat ; he saw m e, and over m y shoulder he saw t he m an. I t was not unt il he had seen him for som e t im e t hat he began t o ident ify him ; but he had from t he first vaguely associat ed him wit h m e, and known him as som ehow belonging t o m e in t he old village t im e. How was he 543
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
dressed? Prosperously, but not not iceably ot herwise; he t hought , in black. Was his face at all disfigured? No, he believed not . I believed not , t oo, for, alt hough in m y brooding st at e I had t aken no especial not ice of t he people behind m e, I t hought it likely t hat a face at all disfigured would have at t ract ed m y at t ent ion. When Mr. Wopsle had im part ed t o m e all t hat he could recall or I ext ract , and when I had t reat ed him t o a lit t le appropriat e refreshm ent aft er t he fat igues of t he evening, we part ed. I t was bet ween t welve and one o'clock when I reached t he Tem ple, and t he gat es were shut . No one was near m e when I went in and went hom e. Herbert had com e in, and we held a very serious council by t he fire. But t here was not hing t o be done, saving t o com m unicat e t o Wem m ick what I had t hat night found out , and t o rem ind him t hat we wait ed for his hint . As I t hought t hat I m ight com prom ise him if I went t oo oft en t o t he Cast le, I m ade t his com m unicat ion by let t er. I wrot e it before I went t o bed, and went out and post ed it ; and again no one was near m e. Herbert and I agreed t hat we could do not hing else but be very caut ious. And we were very caut ious indeed— m ore caut ious t han before, if t hat were possible—and I for m y part never went near Chinks's Basin, except when I rowed by, and t hen I only looked at Mill Pond Bank as I looked at anyt hing else.
544
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 48 The second of t he t wo m eet ings referred t o in t he last chapt er, occurred about a week aft er t he first . I had again left m y boat at t he wharf below Bridge; t he t im e was an hour earlier in t he aft ernoon; and, undecided where t o dine, I had st rolled up int o Cheapside, and was st rolling along it , surely t he m ost unset t led person in all t he busy concourse, when a large hand was laid upon m y shoulder, by som e one overt aking m e. I t was Mr. Jaggers's hand, and he passed it t hrough m y arm . “ As we are going in t he sam e direct ion, Pip, we m ay walk t oget her. Where are you bound for?” “ For t he Tem ple, I t hink,” said I . “ Don't you know?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Well,” I ret urned, glad for once t o get t he bet t er of him in cross- exam inat ion, “ I do not know, for I have not m ade up m y m ind.” “ You are going t o dine?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ You don't m ind adm it t ing t hat , I suppose?” “ No,” I ret urned, “ I don't m ind adm it t ing t hat .” “ And are not engaged?” “ I don't m ind adm it t ing also, t hat I am not engaged.” “ Then,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ com e and dine wit h m e.” I was going t o excuse m yself, when he added, “ Wem m ick's com ing.” So, I changed m y excuse int o an accept ance—t he few words I had ut t ered, serving for t he beginning of eit her— and we went along Cheapside and slant ed off t o Lit t le Brit ain, 545
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
while t he light s were springing up brilliant ly in t he shop windows, and t he st reet lam p- light ers, scarcely finding ground enough t o plant t heir ladders on in t he m idst of t he aft ernoon's bust le, were skipping up and down and running in and out , opening m ore red eyes in t he gat hering fog t han m y rushlight t ower at t he Hum m um s had opened whit e eyes in t he ghost ly wall. At t he office in Lit t le Brit ain t here was t he usual let t erwrit ing, hand- washing, candle- snuffing, and safe- locking, t hat closed t he business of t he day. As I st ood idle by Mr. Jaggers's fire, it s rising and falling flam e m ade t he t wo cast s on t he shelf look as if t hey were playing a diabolical gam e at bo- peep wit h m e; while t he pair of coarse fat office candles t hat dim ly light ed Mr. Jaggers as he wrot e in a corner, were decorat ed wit h dirt y winding- sheet s, as if in rem em brance of a host of hanged client s. We went t o Gerrard- st reet , all t hree t oget her, in a hackney coach: and as soon as we got t here, dinner was served. Alt hough I should not have t hought of m aking, in t hat place, t he m ost dist ant reference by so m uch as a look t o Wem m ick's Walwort h sent im ent s, yet I should have had no obj ect ion t o cat ching his eye now and t hen in a friendly way. But it was not t o be done. He t urned his eyes on Mr. Jaggers whenever he raised t hem from t he t able, and was as dry and dist ant t o m e as if t here were t win Wem m icks and t his was t he wrong one. “ Did you send t hat not e of Miss Havisham 's t o Mr. Pip, Wem m ick?” Mr. Jaggers asked, soon aft er we began dinner. 546
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No, sir,” ret urned Wem m ick; “ it was going by post , when you brought Mr. Pip int o t he office. Here it is.” He handed it t o his principal, inst ead of t o m e. “ I t 's a not e of t wo lines, Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, handing it on, “ sent up t o m e by Miss Havisham , on account of her not being sure of your address. She t ells m e t hat she want s t o see you on a lit t le m at t er of business you m ent ioned t o her. You'll go down?” “ Yes,” said I , cast ing m y eyes over t he not e, which was exact ly in t hose t erm s. “ When do you t hink of going down?” “ I have an im pending engagem ent ,” said I , glancing at Wem m ick, who was put t ing fish int o t he post - office, “ t hat renders m e rat her uncert ain of m y t im e. At once, I t hink.” “ I f Mr. Pip has t he int ent ion of going at once,” said Wem m ick t o Mr. Jaggers, “ he needn't writ e an answer, you know.” Receiving t his as an int im at ion t hat it was best not t o delay, I set t led t hat I would go t o- m orrow, and said so. Wem m ick drank a glass of wine and looked wit h a grim ly sat isfied air at Mr. Jaggers, but not at m e. “ So, Pip! Our friend t he Spider,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ has played his cards. He has won t he pool.” I t was as m uch as I could do t o assent . “ Hah! He is a prom ising fellow—in his way—but he m ay not have it all his own way. The st ronger will win in t he end, but t he st ronger has t o be found out first . I f he should t urn t o, and beat her—” 547
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Surely,” I int errupt ed, wit h a burning face and heart , “ you do not seriously t hink t hat he is scoundrel enough for t hat , Mr. Jaggers?” “ I didn't say so, Pip. I am put t ing a case. I f he should t urn t o and beat her, he m ay possibly get t he st rengt h on his side; if it should be a quest ion of int ellect , he cert ainly will not . I t would be chance work t o give an opinion how a fellow of t hat sort will t urn out in such circum st ances, because it 's a t oss- up bet ween t wo result s.” “ May I ask what t hey are?” “ A fellow like our friend t he Spider,” answered Mr. Jaggers, “ eit her beat s, or cringes. He m ay cringe and growl, or cringe and not growl; but he eit her beat s or cringes. Ask Wem m ick his opinion.” “ Eit her beat s or cringes,” said Wem m ick, not at all addressing him self t o m e. “ So, here's t o Mrs. Bent ley Drum m le,” said Mr. Jaggers, t aking a decant er of choicer wine from his dum b- wait er, and filling for each of us and for him self, “ and m ay t he quest ion of suprem acy be set t led t o t he lady's sat isfact ion! To t he sat isfact ion of t he lady and t he gent lem an, it never will be. Now, Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly, how slow you are t o- day! ” She was at his elbow when he addressed her, put t ing a dish upon t he t able. As she wit hdrew her hands from it , she fell back a st ep or t wo, nervously m ut t ering som e excuse. And a cert ain act ion of her fingers as she spoke arrest ed m y at t ent ion. “ What 's t he m at t er?” said Mr. Jaggers. 548
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Not hing. Only t he subj ect we were speaking of,” said I , “ was rat her painful t o m e.” The act ion of her fingers was like t he act ion of knit t ing. She st ood looking at her m ast er, not underst anding whet her she was free t o go, or whet her he had m ore t o say t o her and would call her back if she did go. Her look was very int ent . Surely, I had seen exact ly such eyes and such hands, on a m em orable occasion very lat ely! He dism issed her, and she glided out of t he room . But she rem ained before m e, as plainly as if she were st ill t here. I looked at t hose hands, I looked at t hose eyes, I looked at t hat flowing hair; and I com pared t hem wit h ot her hands, ot her eyes, ot her hair, t hat I knew of, and wit h what t hose m ight be aft er t went y years of a brut al husband and a st orm y life. I looked again at t hose hands and eyes of t he housekeeper, and t hought of t he inexplicable feeling t hat had com e over m e when I last walked—not alone—in t he ruined garden, and t hrough t he desert ed brewery. I t hought how t he sam e feeling had com e back when I saw a face looking at m e, and a hand waving t o m e, from a st age- coach window; and how it had com e back again and had flashed about m e like Light ning, when I had passed in a carriage—not alone— t hrough a sudden glare of light in a dark st reet . I t hought how one link of associat ion had helped t hat ident ificat ion in t he t heat re, and how such a link, want ing before, had been rivet ed for m e now, when I had passed by a chance swift from Est ella's nam e t o t he fingers wit h t heir knit t ing act ion, and t he at t ent ive eyes. And I felt absolut ely cert ain t hat t his wom an was Est ella's m ot her. 549
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Mr. Jaggers had seen m e wit h Est ella, and was not likely t o have m issed t he sent im ent s I had been at no pains t o conceal. He nodded when I said t he subj ect was painful t o m e, clapped m e on t he back, put round t he wine again, and went on wit h his dinner. Only t wice m ore, did t he housekeeper reappear, and t hen her st ay in t he room was very short , and Mr. Jaggers was sharp wit h her. But her hands were Est ella's hands, and her eyes were Est ella's eyes, and if she had reappeared a hundred t im es I could have been neit her m ore sure nor less sure t hat m y convict ion was t he t rut h. I t was a dull evening, for Wem m ick drew his wine when it cam e round, quit e as a m at t er of business—j ust as he m ight have drawn his salary when t hat cam e round—and wit h his eyes on his chief, sat in a st at e of perpet ual readiness for cross- exam inat ion. As t o t he quant it y of wine, his post - office was as indifferent and ready as any ot her post - office for it s quant it y of let t ers. From m y point of view, he was t he wrong t win all t he t im e, and only ext ernally like t he Wem m ick of Walwort h. We t ook our leave early, and left t oget her. Even when we were groping am ong Mr. Jaggers's st ock of boot s for our hat s, I felt t hat t he right t win was on his way back; and we had not gone half a dozen yards down Gerrard- st reet in t he Walwort h direct ion before I found t hat I was walking arm - in- arm wit h t he right t win, and t hat t he wrong t win had evaporat ed int o t he evening air. “ Well! ” said Wem m ick, “ t hat 's over! He's a wonderful m an, wit hout his living likeness; but I feel t hat I have t o screw 550
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m yself up when I dine wit h him —and I dine m ore com fort ably unscrewed.” I felt t hat t his was a good st at em ent of t he case, and t old him so. “ Wouldn't say it t o anybody but yourself,” he answered. “ I know t hat what is said bet ween you and m e, goes no furt her.” I asked him if he had ever seen Miss Havisham 's adopt ed daught er, Mrs. Bent ley Drum m le? He said no. To avoid being t oo abrupt , I t hen spoke of t he Aged, and of Miss Skiffins. He looked rat her sly when I m ent ioned Miss Skiffins, and st opped in t he st reet t o blow his nose, wit h a roll of t he head and a flourish not quit e free from lat ent boast fulness. “ Wem m ick,” said I , “ do you rem em ber t elling m e before I first went t o Mr. Jaggers's privat e house, t o not ice t hat housekeeper?” “ Did I ?” he replied. “ Ah, I dare say I did. Deuce t ake m e,” he added, suddenly, “ I know I did. I find I am not quit e unscrewed yet .” “ A wild beast t am ed, you called her.” “ And what do you call her?” “ The sam e. How did Mr. Jaggers t am e her, Wem m ick?” “ That 's his secret . She has been wit h him m any a long year.” “ I wish you would t ell m e her st ory. I feel a part icular int erest in being acquaint ed wit h it . You know t hat what is said bet ween you and m e goes no furt her.”
551
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Well! ” Wem m ick replied, “ I don't know her st ory—t hat is, I don't know all of it . But what I do know, I 'll t ell you. We are in our privat e and personal capacit ies, of course.” “ Of course.” “ A score or so of years ago, t hat wom an was t ried at t he Old Bailey for m urder, and was acquit t ed. She was a very handsom e young wom an, and I believe had som e gipsy blood in her. Anyhow, it was hot enough when it was up, as you m ay suppose.” “ But she was acquit t ed.” “ Mr. Jaggers was for her,” pursued Wem m ick, wit h a look full of m eaning, “ and worked t he case in a way quit e ast onishing. I t was a desperat e case, and it was com parat ively early days wit h him t hen, and he worked it t o general adm irat ion; in fact , it m ay alm ost be said t o have m ade him . He worked it him self at t he police- office, day aft er day for m any days, cont ending against even a com m it t al; and at t he t rial where he couldn't work it him self, sat under Counsel, and—every one knew—put in all t he salt and pepper. The m urdered person was a wom an; a wom an, a good t en years older, very m uch larger, and very m uch st ronger. I t was a case of j ealousy. They bot h led t ram ping lives, and t his wom an in Gerrard- st reet here had been m arried very young, over t he broom st ick ( as we say) , t o a t ram ping m an, and was a perfect fury in point of j ealousy. The m urdered wom an— m ore a m at ch for t he m an, cert ainly, in point of years—was found dead in a barn near Hounslow Heat h. There had been a violent st ruggle, perhaps a fight . She was bruised and scrat ched and t orn, and had been held by t he t hroat at last 552
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and choked. Now, t here was no reasonable evidence t o im plicat e any person but t his wom an, and, on t he im probabilit ies of her having been able t o do it , Mr. Jaggers principally rest ed his case. You m ay be sure,” said Wem m ick, t ouching m e on t he sleeve, “ t hat he never dwelt upon t he st rengt h of her hands t hen, t hough he som et im es does now.” I had t old Wem m ick of his showing us her wrist s, t hat day of t he dinner part y. “ Well, sir! ” Wem m ick went on; “ it happened—happened, don't you see?—t hat t his wom an was so very art fully dressed from t he t im e of her apprehension, t hat she looked m uch slight er t han she really was; in part icular, her sleeves are always rem em bered t o have been so skilfully cont rived t hat her arm s had quit e a delicat e look. She had only a bruise or t wo about her—not hing for a t ram p—but t he backs of her hands were lacerat ed, and t he quest ion was, was it wit h finger- nails? Now, Mr. Jaggers showed t hat she had st ruggled t hrough a great lot of bram bles which were not as high as her face; but which she could not have got t hrough and kept her hands out of; and bit s of t hose bram bles were act ually found in her skin and put in evidence, as well as t he fact t hat t he bram bles in quest ion were found on exam inat ion t o have been broken t hrough, and t o have lit t le shreds of her dress and lit t le spot s of blood upon t hem here and t here. But t he boldest point he m ade, was t his. I t was at t em pt ed t o be set up in proof of her j ealousy, t hat she was under st rong suspicion of having, at about t he t im e of t he m urder, frant ically dest royed her child by t his m an—som e t hree years old—t o revenge herself upon him . Mr. Jaggers worked t hat , in 553
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t his way. “ We say t hese are not m arks of finger- nails, but m arks of bram bles, and we show you t he bram bles. You say t hey are m arks of finger- nails, and you set up t he hypot hesis t hat she dest royed her child. You m ust accept all consequences of t hat hypot hesis. For anyt hing we know, she m ay have dest royed her child, and t he child in clinging t o her m ay have scrat ched her hands. What t hen? You are not t rying her for t he m urder of her child; why don't you? As t o t his case, if you will have scrat ches, we say t hat , for anyt hing we know, you m ay have account ed for t hem , assum ing for t he sake of argum ent t hat you have not invent ed t hem ! ” To sum up, sir,” said Wem m ick, “ Mr. Jaggers was alt oget her t oo m any for t he Jury, and t hey gave in.” “ Has she been in his service ever since?” “ Yes; but not only t hat ,” said Wem m ick. “ She went int o his service im m ediat ely aft er her acquit t al, t am ed as she is now. She has since been t aught one t hing and anot her in t he way of her dut ies, but she was t am ed from t he beginning.” “ Do you rem em ber t he sex of t he child?” “ Said t o have been a girl.” “ You have not hing m ore t o say t o m e t o- night ?” “ Not hing. I got your let t er and dest royed it . Not hing.” We exchanged a cordial Good Night , and I went hom e, wit h new m at t er for m y t hought s, t hough wit h no relief from t he old.
554
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 49 Put t ing Miss Havisham 's not e in m y pocket , t hat it m ight serve as m y credent ials for so soon reappearing at Sat is House, in case her waywardness should lead her t o express any surprise at seeing m e, I went down again by t he coach next day. But I alight ed at t he Halfway House, and breakfast ed t here, and walked t he rest of t he dist ance; for, I sought t o get int o t he t own quiet ly by t he unfrequent ed ways, and t o leave it in t he sam e m anner. The best light of t he day was gone when I passed along t he quiet echoing court s behind t he High- st reet . The nooks of ruin where t he old m onks had once had t heir refect ories and gardens, and where t he st rong walls were now pressed int o t he service of hum ble sheds and st ables, were alm ost as silent as t he old m onks in t heir graves. The cat hedral chim es had at once a sadder and a m ore rem ot e sound t o m e, as I hurried on avoiding observat ion, t han t hey had ever had before; so, t he swell of t he old organ was borne t o m y ears like funeral m usic; and t he rooks, as t hey hovered about t he grey t ower and swung in t he bare high t rees of t he priorygarden, seem ed t o call t o m e t hat t he place was changed, and t hat Est ella was gone out of it for ever. An elderly wom an whom I had seen before as one of t he servant s who lived in t he supplem ent ary house across t he back court - yard, opened t he gat e. The light ed candle st ood in t he dark passage wit hin, as of old, and I t ook it up and ascended t he st aircase alone. Miss Havisham was not in her 555
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
own room , but was in t he larger room across t he landing. Looking in at t he door, aft er knocking in vain, I saw her sit t ing on t he heart h in a ragged chair, close before, and lost in t he cont em plat ion of, t he ashy fire. Doing as I had oft en done, I went in, and st ood, t ouching t he old chim ney- piece, where she could see m e when she raised her eyes. There was an air or ut t er loneliness upon her, t hat would have m oved m e t o pit y t hough she had wilfully done m e a deeper inj ury t han I could charge her wit h. As I st ood com passionat ing her, and t hinking how in t he progress of t im e I t oo had com e t o be a part of t he wrecked fort unes of t hat house, her eyes rest ed on m e. She st ared, and said in a low voice, “ I s it real?” “ I t is I , Pip. Mr. Jaggers gave m e your not e yest erday, and I have lost no t im e.” “ Thank you. Thank you.” As I brought anot her of t he ragged chairs t o t he heart h and sat down, I rem arked a new expression on her face, as if she were afraid of m e. “ I want ,” she said, “ t o pursue t hat subj ect you m ent ioned t o m e when you were last here, and t o show you t hat I am not all st one. But perhaps you can never believe, now, t hat t here is anyt hing hum an in m y heart ?” When I said som e reassuring words, she st ret ched out her t rem ulous right hand, as t hough she was going t o t ouch m e; but she recalled it again before I underst ood t he act ion, or knew how t o receive it .
556
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You said, speaking for your friend, t hat you could t ell m e how t o do som et hing useful and good. Som et hing t hat you would like done, is it not ?” “ Som et hing t hat I would like done very m uch.” “ What is it ?” I began explaining t o her t hat secret hist ory of t he part nership. I had not got far int o it , when I j udged from her looks t hat she was t hinking in a discursive way of m e, rat her t han of what I said. I t seem ed t o be so, for, when I st opped speaking, m any m om ent s passed before she showed t hat she was conscious of t he fact . “ Do you break off,” she asked t hen, wit h her form er air of being afraid of m e, “ because you hat e m e t oo m uch t o bear t o speak t o m e?” “ No, no,” I answered, “ how can you t hink so, Miss Havisham ! I st opped because I t hought you were not following what I said.” “ Perhaps I was not ,” she answered, put t ing a hand t o her head. “ Begin again, and let m e look at som et hing else. St ay! Now t ell m e.” She set her hand upon her st ick, in t he resolut e way t hat som et im es was habit ual t o her, and looked at t he fire wit h a st rong expression of forcing herself t o at t end. I went on wit h m y explanat ion, and t old her how I had hoped t o com plet e t he t ransact ion out of m y m eans, but how in t his I was disappoint ed. That part of t he subj ect ( I rem inded her) involved m at t ers which could form no part of m y explanat ion, for t hey were t he weight y secret s of anot her. 557
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ So! ” said she, assent ing wit h her head, but not looking at m e. “ And how m uch m oney is want ing t o com plet e t he purchase?” I was rat her afraid of st at ing it , for it sounded a large sum . “ Nine hundred pounds.” “ I f I give you t he m oney for t his purpose, will you keep m y secret as you have kept your own?” “ Quit e as fait hfully.” “ And your m ind will be m ore at rest ?” “ Much m ore at rest .” “ Are you very unhappy now?” She asked t his quest ion, st ill wit hout looking at m e, but in an unwont ed t one of sym pat hy. I could not reply at t he m om ent , for m y voice failed m e. She put her left arm across t he head of her st ick, and soft ly laid her forehead on it . “ I am far from happy, Miss Havisham ; but I have ot her causes of disquiet t han any you know of. They are t he secret s I have m ent ioned.” Aft er a lit t le while, she raised her head and looked at t he fire again. “ I t is noble in you t o t ell m e t hat you have ot her causes of unhappiness, I s it t rue?” “ Too t rue.” “ Can I only serve you, Pip, by serving your friend? Regarding t hat as done, is t here not hing I can do for you yourself?” “ Not hing. I t hank you for t he quest ion. I t hank you even m ore for t he t one of t he quest ion. But , t here is not hing.” 558
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
She present ly rose from her seat , and looked about t he blight ed room for t he m eans of writ ing. There were non t here, and she t ook from her pocket a yellow set of ivory t ablet s, m ount ed in t arnished gold, and wrot e upon t hem wit h a pencil in a case of t arnished gold t hat hung from her neck. “ You are st ill on friendly t erm s wit h Mr. Jaggers?” “ Quit e. I dined wit h him yest erday.” “ This is an aut horit y t o him t o pay you t hat m oney, t o lay out at your irresponsible discret ion for your friend. I keep no m oney here; but if you would rat her Mr. Jaggers knew not hing of t he m at t er, I will send it t o you.” “ Thank you, Miss Havisham ; I have not t he least obj ect ion t o receiving it from him .” She read m e what she had writ t en, and it was direct and clear, and evident ly int ended t o absolve m e from any suspicion of profit ing by t he receipt of t he m oney. I t ook t he t ablet s from her hand, and it t rem bled again, and it t rem bled m ore as she t ook off t he chain t o which t he pencil was at t ached, and put it in m ine. All t his she did, wit hout looking at m e. “ My nam e is on t he first leaf. I f you can ever writ e under m y nam e, “ I forgive her,” t hough ever so long aft er m y broken heart is dust —pray do it ! ” “ O Miss Havisham ,” said I , “ I can do it now. There have been sore m ist akes; and m y life has been a blind and t hankless one; and I want forgiveness and direct ion far t oo m uch, t o be bit t er wit h you.” She t urned her face t o m e for t he first t im e since she had avert ed it , and, t o m y am azem ent , I m ay even add t o m y 559
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t error, dropped on her knees at m y feet ; wit h her folded hands raised t o m e in t he m anner in which, when her poor heart was young and fresh and whole, t hey m ust oft en have been raised t o heaven from her m ot her's side. To see her wit h her whit e hair and her worn face kneeling at m y feet , gave m e a shock t hrough all m y fram e. I ent reat ed her t o rise, and got m y arm s about her t o help her up; but she only pressed t hat hand of m ine which was nearest t o her grasp, and hung her head over it and wept . I had never seen her shed a t ear before, and, in t he hope t hat t he relief m ight do her good, I bent over her wit hout speaking. She was not kneeling now, but was down upon t he ground. “ O! ” she cried, despairingly. “ What have I done! What have I done! ” “ I f you m ean, Miss Havisham , what have you done t o inj ure m e, let m e answer. Very lit t le. I should have loved her under any circum st ances.—I s she m arried?” “ Yes.” I t was a needless quest ion, for a new desolat ion in t he desolat e house had t old m e so. “ What have I done! What have I done! ” She wrung her hands, and crushed her whit e hair, and ret urned t o t his cry over and over again. “ What have I done! ” I knew not how t o answer, or how t o com fort her. That she had done a grievous t hing in t aking an im pressionable child t o m ould int o t he form t hat her wild resent m ent , spurned affect ion, and wounded pride, found vengeance in, I knew full well. But t hat , in shut t ing out t he light of day, she had shut 560
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
out infinit ely m ore; t hat , in seclusion, she had secluded herself from a t housand nat ural and healing influences; t hat , her m ind, brooding solit ary, had grown diseased, as all m inds do and m ust and will t hat reverse t he appoint ed order of t heir Maker; I knew equally well. And could I look upon her wit hout com passion, seeing her punishm ent in t he ruin she was, in her profound unfit ness for t his eart h on which she was placed, in t he vanit y of sorrow which had becom e a m ast er m ania, like t he vanit y of penit ence, t he vanit y of rem orse, t he vanit y of unwort hiness, and ot her m onst rous vanit ies t hat have been curses in t his world? “ Unt il you spoke t o her t he ot her day, and unt il I saw in you a looking- glass t hat showed m e what I once felt m yself, I did not know what I had done. What have I done! What have I done! ” And so again, t went y, fift y t im es over, What had she done! “ Miss Havisham ,” I said, when her cry had died away, “ you m ay dism iss m e from your m ind and conscience. But Est ella is a different case, and if you can ever undo any scrap of what you have done am iss in keeping a part of her right nat ure away from her, it will be bet t er t o do t hat , t han t o bem oan t he past t hrough a hundred years.” “ Yes, yes, I know it . But , Pip—m y Dear! ” There was an earnest wom anly com passion for m e in her new affect ion. “ My Dear! Believe t his: when she first cam e t o m e, I m eant t o save her from m isery like m y own. At first I m eant no m ore.” “ Well, well! ” said I . “ I hope so.” “ But as she grew, and prom ised t o be very beaut iful, I gradually did worse, and wit h m y praises, and wit h m y 561
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
j ewels, and wit h m y t eachings, and wit h t his figure of m yself always before her a warning t o back and point m y lessons, I st ole her heart away and put ice in it s place.” “ Bet t er,” I could not help saying, “ t o have left her a nat ural heart , even t o be bruised or broken.” Wit h t hat , Miss Havisham looked dist ract edly at m e for a while, and t hen burst out again, What had she done! “ I f you knew all m y st ory,” she pleaded, “ you would have som e com passion for m e and a bet t er underst anding of m e.” “ Miss Havisham ,” I answered, as delicat ely as I could, “ I believe I m ay say t hat I do know your st ory, and have known it ever since I first left t his neighbourhood. I t has inspired m e wit h great com m iserat ion, and I hope I underst and it and it s influences. Does what has passed bet ween us give m e any excuse for asking you a quest ion relat ive t o Est ella? Not as she is, but as she was when she first cam e here?” She was seat ed on t he ground, wit h her arm s on t he ragged chair, and her head leaning on t hem . She looked full at m e when I said t his, and replied, “ Go on.” “ Whose child was Est ella?” She shook her head. “ You don't know?” She shook her head again. “ But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?” “ Brought her here.” “ Will you t ell m e how t hat cam e about ?” She answered in a low whisper and wit h caut ion: “ I had been shut up in t hese room s a long t im e ( I don't know how long; you know what t im e t he clocks keep here) , when I t old 562
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him t hat I want ed a lit t le girl t o rear and love, and save from m y fat e. I had first seen him when I sent for him t o lay t his place wast e for m e; having read of him in t he newspapers, before I and t he world part ed. He t old m e t hat he would look about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here asleep, and I called her Est ella.” “ Might I ask her age t hen?” “ Two or t hree. She herself knows not hing, but t hat she was left an orphan and I adopt ed her.” So convinced I was of t hat wom an's being her m ot her, t hat I want ed no evidence t o est ablish t he fact in m y own m ind. But , t o any m ind, I t hought , t he connect ion here was clear and st raight . What m ore could I hope t o do by prolonging t he int erview? I had succeeded on behalf of Herbert , Miss Havisham had t old m e all she knew of Est ella, I had said and done what I could t o ease her m ind. No m at t er wit h what ot her words we part ed; we part ed. Twilight was closing in when I went down st airs int o t he nat ural air. I called t o t he wom an who had opened t he gat e when I ent ered, t hat I would not t rouble her j ust yet , but would walk round t he place before leaving. For, I had a present im ent t hat I should never be t here again, and I felt t hat t he dying light was suit ed t o m y last view of it . By t he wilderness of casks t hat I had walked on long ago, and on which t he rain of years had fallen since, rot t ing t hem in m any places, and leaving m iniat ure swam ps and pools of wat er upon t hose t hat st ood on end, I m ade m y way t o t he ruined garden. I went all round it ; round by t he corner where 563
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Herbert and I had fought our bat t le; round by t he pat hs where Est ella and I had walked. So cold, so lonely, so dreary all! Taking t he brewery on m y way back, I raised t he rust y lat ch of a lit t le door at t he garden end of it , and walked t hrough. I was going out at t he opposit e door—not easy t o open now, for t he dam p wood had st art ed and swelled, and t he hinges were yielding, and t he t hreshold was encum bered wit h a growt h of fungus—when I t urned m y head t o look back. A childish associat ion revived wit h wonderful force in t he m om ent of t he slight act ion, and I fancied t hat I saw Miss Havisham hanging t o t he beam . So st rong was t he im pression, t hat I st ood under t he beam shuddering from head t o foot before I knew it was a fancy—t hough t o be sure I was t here in an inst ant . The m ournfulness of t he place and t im e, and t he great t error of t his illusion, t hough it was but m om ent ary, caused m e t o feel an indescribable awe as I cam e out bet ween t he open wooden gat es where I had once wrung m y hair aft er Est ella had wrung m y heart . Passing on int o t he front court yard, I hesit at ed whet her t o call t he wom an t o let m e out at t he locked gat e of which she had t he key, or first t o go upst airs and assure m yself t hat Miss Havisham was as safe and well as I had left her. I t ook t he lat t er course and went up. I looked int o t he room where I had left her, and I saw her seat ed in t he ragged chair upon t he heart h close t o t he fire, wit h her back t owards m e. I n t he m om ent when I was wit hdrawing m y head t o go quiet ly away, I saw a great flam ing light spring up. I n t he sam e m om ent , I saw her 564
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
running at m e, shrieking, wit h a whirl of fire blazing all about her, and soaring at least as m any feet above her head as she was high. I had a double- caped great - coat on, and over m y arm anot her t hick coat . That I got t hem off, closed wit h her, t hrew her down, and got t hem over her; t hat I dragged t he great clot h from t he t able for t he sam e purpose, and wit h it dragged down t he heap of rot t enness in t he m idst , and all t he ugly t hings t hat shelt ered t here; t hat we were on t he ground st ruggling like desperat e enem ies, and t hat t he closer I covered her, t he m ore wildly she shrieked and t ried t o free herself; t hat t his occurred I knew t hrough t he result , but not t hrough anyt hing I felt , or t hought , or knew I did. I knew not hing unt il I knew t hat we were on t he floor by t he great t able, and t hat pat ches of t inder yet alight were float ing in t he sm oky air, which, a m om ent ago, had been her faded bridal dress. Then, I looked round and saw t he dist urbed beet les and spiders running away over t he floor, and t he servant s com ing in wit h breat hless cries at t he door. I st ill held her forcibly down wit h all m y st rengt h, like a prisoner who m ight escape; and I doubt if I even knew who she was, or why we had st ruggled, or t hat she had been in flam es, or t hat t he flam es were out , unt il I saw t he pat ches of t inder t hat had been her garm ent s, no longer alight but falling in a black shower around us. She was insensible, and I was afraid t o have her m oved, or even t ouched. Assist ance was sent for and I held her unt il it cam e, as if I unreasonably fancied ( I t hink I did) t hat if I let 565
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
her go, t he fire would break out again and consum e her. When I got up, on t he surgeon's com ing t o her wit h ot her aid, I was ast onished t o see t hat bot h m y hands were burnt ; for, I had no knowledge of it t hrough t he sense of feeling. On exam inat ion it was pronounced t hat she had received serious hurt s, but t hat t hey of t hem selves were far from hopeless; t he danger lay m ainly in t he nervous shock. By t he surgeon's direct ions, her bed was carried int o t hat room and laid upon t he great t able: which happened t o be well suit ed t o t he dressing of her inj uries. When I saw her again, an hour aft erwards, she lay indeed where I had seen her st rike her st ick, and had heard her say t hat she would lie one day. Though every vest ige of her dress was burnt , as t hey t old m e, she st ill had som et hing of her old ghast ly bridal appearance; for, t hey had covered her t o t he t hroat wit h whit e cot t on- wool, and as she lay wit h a whit e sheet loosely overlying t hat , t he phant om air of som et hing t hat had been and was changed, was st ill upon her. I found, on quest ioning t he servant s, t hat Est ella was in Paris, and I got a prom ise from t he surgeon t hat he would writ e t o her by t he next post . Miss Havisham 's fam ily I t ook upon m yself; int ending t o com m unicat e wit h Mr. Mat t hew Pocket only, and leave him t o do as he liked about inform ing t he rest . This I did next day, t hrough Herbert , as soon as I ret urned t o t own. There was a st age, t hat evening, when she spoke collect edly of what had happened, t hough wit h a cert ain t errible vivacit y. Towards m idnight she began t o wander in her speech, and aft er t hat it gradually set in t hat she said 566
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
innum erable t im es in a low solem n voice, “ What have I done! ” And t hen, “ When she first cam e, I m eant t o save her from m isery like m ine.” And t hen, “ Take t he pencil and writ e under m y nam e, ‘I forgive her! '” She never changed t he order of t hese t hree sent ences, but she som et im es left out a word in one or ot her of t hem ; never put t ing in anot her word, but always leaving a blank and going on t o t he next word. As I could do no service t here, and as I had, nearer hom e, t hat pressing reason for anxiet y and fear which even her wanderings could not drive out of m y m ind, I decided in t he course of t he night t hat I would ret urn by t he early m orning coach: walking on a m ile or so, and being t aken up clear of t he t own. At about six o'clock of t he m orning, t herefore, I leaned over her and t ouched her lips wit h m ine, j ust as t hey said, not st opping for being t ouched, “ Take t he pencil and writ e under m y nam e, ‘I forgive her.'”
567
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 50 My hands had been dressed t wice or t hrice in t he night , and again in t he m orning. My left arm was a good deal burned t o t he elbow, and, less severely, as high as t he shoulder; it was very painful, but t he flam es had set in t hat direct ion, and I felt t hankful it was no worse. My right hand was not so badly burnt but t hat I could m ove t he fingers. I t was bandaged, of course, but m uch less inconvenient ly t han m y left hand and arm ; t hose I carried in a sling; and I could only wear m y coat like a cloak, loose over m y shoulders and fast ened at t he neck. My hair had been caught by t he fire, but not m y head or face. When Herbert had been down t o Ham m ersm it h and seen his fat her, he cam e back t o m e at our cham bers, and devot ed t he day t o at t ending on m e. He was t he kindest of nurses, and at st at ed t im es t ook off t he bandages, and st eeped t hem in t he cooling liquid t hat was kept ready, and put t hem on again, wit h a pat ient t enderness t hat I was deeply grat eful for. At first , as I lay quiet on t he sofa, I found it painfully difficult , I m ight say im possible, t o get rid of t he im pression of t he glare of t he flam es, t heir hurry and noise, and t he fierce burning sm ell. I f I dozed for a m inut e, I was awakened by Miss Havisham 's cries, and by her running at m e wit h all t hat height of fire above her head. This pain of t he m ind was m uch harder t o st rive against t han any bodily pain I suffered; 568
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and Herbert , seeing t hat , did his ut m ost t o hold m y at t ent ion engaged. Neit her of us spoke of t he boat , but we bot h t hought of it . That was m ade apparent by our avoidance of t he subj ect , and by our agreeing—wit hout agreem ent —t o m ake m y recovery of t he use of m y hands, a quest ion of so m any hours, not of so m any weeks. My first quest ion when I saw Herbert had been of course, whet her all was well down t he river? As he replied in t he affirm at ive, wit h perfect confidence and cheerfulness, we did not resum e t he subj ect unt il t he day was wearing away. But t hen, as Herbert changed t he bandages, m ore by t he light of t he fire t han by t he out er light , he went back t o it spont aneously. “ I sat wit h Provis last night , Handel, t wo good hours.” “ Where was Clara?” “ Dear lit t le t hing! ” said Herbert . “ She was up and down wit h Gruffandgrim all t he evening. He was perpet ually pegging at t he floor, t he m om ent she left his sight . I doubt if he can hold out long t hough. What wit h rum and pepper—and pepper and rum —I should t hink his pegging m ust be nearly over.” “ And t hen you will be m arried, Herbert ?” “ How can I t ake care of t he dear child ot herwise?—Lay your arm out upon t he back of t he sofa, m y dear boy, and I 'll sit down here, and get t he bandage off so gradually t hat you shall not know when it com es. I was speaking of Provis. Do you know, Handel, he im proves?” 569
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I said t o you I t hought he was soft ened when I last saw him .” “ So you did. And so he is. He was very com m unicat ive last night , and t old m e m ore of his life. You rem em ber his breaking off here about som e wom an t hat he had had great t rouble wit h.—Did I hurt you?” I had st art ed, but not under his t ouch. His words had given m e a st art . “ I had forgot t en t hat , Herbert , but I rem em ber it now you speak of it .” “ Well! He went int o t hat part of his life, and a dark wild part it is. Shall I t ell you? Or would it worry you j ust now?” “ Tell m e by all m eans. Every word.” Herbert bent forward t o look at m e m ore nearly, as if m y reply had been rat her m ore hurried or m ore eager t han he could quit e account for. “ Your head is cool?” he said, t ouching it . “ Quit e,” said I . “ Tell m e what Provis said, m y dear Herbert .” “ I t seem s,” said Herbert ," —t here's a bandage off m ost charm ingly, and now com es t he cool one—m akes you shrink at first , m y poor dear fellow, don't it ? but it will be com fort able present ly—it seem s t hat t he wom an was a young wom an, and a j ealous wom an, and a revengeful wom an; revengeful, Handel, t o t he last degree.” “ To what last degree?” “ Murder.—Does it st rike t oo cold on t hat sensit ive place?” “ I don't feel it . How did she m urder? Whom did she m urder?” “ Why, t he deed m ay not have m erit ed quit e so 570
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t errible a nam e,” said Herbert , “ but , she was t ried for it , and Mr. Jaggers defended her, and t he reput at ion of t hat defence first m ade his nam e known t o Provis. I t was anot her and a st ronger wom an who was t he vict im , and t here had been a st ruggle—in a barn. Who began it , or how fair it was, or how unfair, m ay be doubt ful; but how it ended, is cert ainly not doubt ful, for t he vict im was found t hrot t led.” “ Was t he wom an brought in guilt y?” “ No; she was acquit t ed.—My poor Handel, I hurt you! ” “ I t is im possible t o be gent ler, Herbert . Yes? What else?” “ This acquit t ed young wom an and Provis had a lit t le child: a lit t le child of whom Provis was exceedingly fond. On t he evening of t he very night when t he obj ect of her j ealousy was st rangled as I t ell you, t he young wom an present ed herself before Provis for one m om ent , and swore t hat she would dest roy t he child ( which was in her possession) , and he should never see it again; t hen, she vanished.—There's t he worst arm com fort ably in t he sling once m ore, and now t here rem ains but t he right hand, which is a far easier j ob. I can do it bet t er by t his light t han by a st ronger, for m y hand is st eadiest when I don't see t he poor blist ered pat ches t oo dist inct ly.—You don't t hink your breat hing is affect ed, m y dear boy? You seem t o breat he quickly.” “ Perhaps I do, Herbert . Did t he wom an keep her oat h?” “ There com es t he darkest part of Provis's life. She did.” “ That is, he says she did.” “ Why, of course, m y dear boy,” ret urned Herbert , in a t one of surprise, and again bending forward t o get a nearer look at m e. “ He says it all. I have no ot her inform at ion.” 571
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ No, t o be sure.” “ Now, whet her,” pursued Herbert , “ he had used t he child's m ot her ill, or whet her he had used t he child's m ot her well, Provis doesn't say; but , she had shared som e four or five years of t he wret ched life he described t o us at t his fireside, and he seem s t o have felt pit y for her, and forbearance t owards her. Therefore, fearing he should be called upon t o depose about t his dest royed child, and so be t he cause of her deat h, he hid him self ( m uch as he grieved for t he child) , kept him self dark, as he says, out of t he way and out of t he t rial, and was only vaguely t alked of as a cert ain m an called Abel, out of whom t he j ealousy arose. Aft er t he acquit t al she disappeared, and t hus he lost t he child and t he child's m ot her.” “ I want t o ask—” “ A m om ent , m y dear boy, and I have done. That evil genius, Com peyson, t he worst of scoundrels am ong m any scoundrels, knowing of his keeping out of t he way at t hat t im e, and of his reasons for doing so, of course aft erwards held t he knowledge over his head as a m eans of keeping him poorer, and working him harder. I t was clear last night t hat t his barbed t he point of Provis's anim osit y.” “ I want t o know,” said I , “ and part icularly, Herbert , whet her he t old you when t his happened?” “ Part icularly? Let m e rem em ber, t hen, what he said as t o t hat . His expression was, ‘a round score o’ year ago, and a'm ost direct ly aft er I t ook up wi’ Com peyson.’ How old were you when you cam e upon him in t he lit t le churchyard?” “ I t hink in m y sevent h year.” 572
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Ay. I t had happened som e t hree or four years t hen, he said, and you brought int o his m ind t he lit t le girl so t ragically lost , who would have been about your age.” “ Herbert ,” said I , aft er a short silence, in a hurried way, “ can you see m e best by t he light of t he window, or t he light of t he fire?” “ By t he firelight ,” answered Herbert , com ing close again. “ Look at m e.” “ I do look at you, m y dear boy.” “ Touch m e.” “ I do t ouch you, m y dear boy.” “ You are not afraid t hat I am in any fever, or t hat m y head is m uch disordered by t he accident of last night ?” “ N- no, m y dear boy,” said Herbert , aft er t aking t im e t o exam ine m e. “ You are rat her excit ed, but you are quit e yourself.” “ I know I am quit e m yself. And t he m an we have in hiding down t he river, is Est ella's Fat her.”
573
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 51 What purpose I had in view when I was hot on t racing out and proving Est ella's parent age, I cannot say. I t will present ly be seen t hat t he quest ion was not before m e in a dist inct shape, unt il it was put before m e by a wiser head t han m y own. But , when Herbert and I had held our m om ent ous conversat ion, I was seized wit h a feverish convict ion t hat I ought t o hunt t he m at t er down—t hat I ought not t o let it rest , but t hat I ought t o see Mr. Jaggers, and com e at t he bare t rut h. I really do not know whet her I felt t hat I did t his for Est ella's sake, or whet her I was glad t o t ransfer t o t he m an in whose preservat ion I was so m uch concerned, som e rays of t he rom ant ic int erest t hat had so long surrounded her. Perhaps t he lat t er possibilit y m ay be t he nearer t o t he t rut h. Any way, I could scarcely be wit hheld from going out t o Gerrard- st reet t hat night . Herbert 's represent at ions t hat if I did, I should probably be laid up and st ricken useless, when our fugit ive's safet y would depend upon m e, alone rest rained m y im pat ience. On t he underst anding, again and again reit erat ed, t hat com e what would, I was t o go t o Mr. Jaggers t o- m orrow, I at lengt h subm it t ed t o keep quiet , and t o have m y hurt s looked aft er, and t o st ay at hom e. Early next m orning we went out t oget her, and at t he corner of Gilt spurst reet by Sm it hfield, I left Herbert t o go his way int o t he Cit y, and t ook m y way t o Lit t le Brit ain. 574
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
There were periodical occasions when Mr. Jaggers and Wem m ick went over t he office account s, and checked off t he vouchers, and put all t hings st raight . On t hese occasions Wem m ick t ook his books and papers int o Mr. Jaggers's room , and one of t he up- st airs clerks cam e down int o t he out er office. Finding such clerk on Wem m ick's post t hat m orning, I knew what was going on; but , I was not sorry t o have Mr. Jaggers and Wem m ick t oget her, as Wem m ick would t hen hear for him self t hat I said not hing t o com prom ise him . My appearance wit h m y arm bandaged and m y coat loose over m y shoulders, favoured m y obj ect . Alt hough I had sent Mr. Jaggers a brief account of t he accident as soon as I had arrived in t own, yet I had t o give him all t he det ails now; and t he specialit y of t he occasion caused our t alk t o be less dry and hard, and less st rict ly regulat ed by t he rules of evidence, t han it had been before. While I described t he disast er, Mr. Jaggers st ood, according t o his wont , before t he fire. Wem m ick leaned back in his chair, st aring at m e, wit h his hands in t he pocket s of his t rousers, and his pen put horizont ally int o t he post . The t wo brut al cast s, always inseparable in m y m ind from t he official proceedings, seem ed t o be congest ively considering whet her t hey didn't sm ell fire at t he present m om ent . My narrat ive finished, and t heir quest ions exhaust ed, I t hen produced Miss Havisham 's aut horit y t o receive t he nine hundred pounds for Herbert . Mr. Jaggers's eyes ret ired a lit t le deeper int o his head when I handed him t he t ablet s, but he present ly handed t hem over t o Wem m ick, wit h inst ruct ions t o draw t he cheque for his signat ure. While t hat was in course of 575
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
being done, I looked on at Wem m ick as he wrot e, and Mr. Jaggers, poising and swaying him self on his well- polished boot s, looked on at m e. “ I am sorry, Pip,” said he, as I put t he cheque in m y pocket , when he had signed it , “ t hat we do not hing for you.” “ Miss Havisham was good enough t o ask m e,” I ret urned, “ whet her she could do not hing for m e, and I t old her No.” “ Everybody should know his own business,” said Mr. Jaggers. And I saw Wem m ick's lips form t he words “ port able propert y.” “ I should not have t old her No, if I had been you,” said Mr Jaggers; “ but every m an ought t o know his own business best .” “ Every m an's business,” said Wem m ick, rat her reproachfully t owards m e, “ is port able propert y.” As I t hought t he t im e was now com e for pursuing t he t hem e I had at heart , I said, t urning on Mr. Jaggers: “ I did ask som et hing of Miss Havisham , however, sir. I asked her t o give m e som e inform at ion relat ive t o her adopt ed daught er, and she gave m e all she possessed.” “ Did she?” said Mr. Jaggers, bending forward t o look at his boot s and t hen st raight ening him self. “ Hah! I don't t hink I should have done so, if I had been Miss Havisham . But she ought t o know her own business best .” “ I know m ore of t he hist ory of Miss Havisham 's adopt ed child, t han Miss Havisham herself does, sir. I know her m ot her.” Mr. Jaggers looked at m e inquiringly, and repeat ed “ Mot her?” 576
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I have seen her m ot her wit hin t hese t hree days.” “ Yes?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ And so have you, sir. And you have seen her st ill m ore recent ly.” “ Yes?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Perhaps I know m ore of Est ella's hist ory t han even you do,” said I . “ I know her fat her t oo.” A cert ain st op t hat Mr. Jaggers cam e t o in his m anner—he was t oo self- possessed t o change his m anner, but he could not help it s being brought t o an indefinably at t ent ive st op— assured m e t hat he did not know who her fat her was. This I had st rongly suspect ed from Provis's account ( as Herbert had repeat ed it ) of his having kept him self dark; which I pieced on t o t he fact t hat he him self was not Mr. Jaggers's client unt il som e four years lat er, and when he could have no reason for claim ing his ident it y. But , I could not be sure of t his unconsciousness on Mr. Jaggers's part before, t hough I was quit e sure of it now. “ So! You know t he young lady's fat her, Pip?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Yes,” I replied, “ and his nam e is Provis—from New Sout h Wales.” Even Mr. Jaggers st art ed when I said t hose words. I t was t he slight est st art t hat could escape a m an, t he m ost carefully repressed and t he soonest checked, but he did st art , t hough he m ade it a part of t he act ion of t aking out his pocket handkerchief. How Wem m ick received t he announcem ent I am unable t o say, for I was afraid t o look at him j ust t hen, 577
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
lest Mr. Jaggers's sharpness should det ect t hat t here had been som e com m unicat ion unknown t o him bet ween us. “ And on what evidence, Pip,” asked Mr. Jaggers, very coolly, as he paused wit h his handkerchief half way t o his nose, “ does Provis m ake t his claim ?” “ He does not m ake it ,” said I , “ and has never m ade it , and has no knowledge or belief t hat his daught er is in exist ence.” For once, t he powerful pocket - handkerchief failed. My reply was so unexpect ed t hat Mr. Jaggers put t he handkerchief back int o his pocket wit hout com plet ing t he usual perform ance, folded his arm s, and looked wit h st ern at t ent ion at m e, t hough wit h an im m ovable face. Then I t old him all I knew, and how I knew it ; wit h t he one reservat ion t hat I left him t o infer t hat I knew from Miss Havisham what I in fact knew from Wem m ick. I was very careful indeed as t o t hat . Nor, did I look t owards Wem m ick unt il I had finished all I had t o t ell, and had been for som e t im e silent ly m eet ing Mr. Jaggers's look. When I did at last t urn m y eyes in Wem m ick's direct ion, I found t hat he had unpost ed his pen, and was int ent upon t he t able before him . “ Hah! ” said Mr. Jaggers at last , as he m oved t owards t he papers on t he t able," —What it em was it you were at , Wem m ick, when Mr. Pip cam e in?” But I could not subm it t o be t hrown off in t hat way, and I m ade a passionat e, alm ost an indignant , appeal t o him t o be m ore frank and m anly wit h m e. I rem inded him of t he false hopes int o which I had lapsed, t he lengt h of t im e t hey had last ed, and t he discovery I had m ade: and I hint ed at t he danger t hat weighed upon m y spirit s. I represent ed m yself as 578
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
being surely wort hy of som e lit t le confidence from him , in ret urn for t he confidence I had j ust now im part ed. I said t hat I did not blam e him , or suspect him , or m ist rust him , but I want ed assurance of t he t rut h from him . And if he asked m e why I want ed it and why I t hought I had any right t o it , I would t ell him , lit t le as he cared for such poor dream s, t hat I had loved Est ella dearly and long, and t hat , alt hough I had lost her and m ust live a bereaved life, what ever concerned her was st ill nearer and dearer t o m e t han anyt hing else in t he world. And seeing t hat Mr. Jaggers st ood quit e st ill and silent , and apparent ly quit e obdurat e, under t his appeal, I t urned t o Wem m ick, and said, “ Wem m ick, I know you t o be a m an wit h a gent le heart . I have seen your pleasant hom e, and your old fat her, and all t he innocent cheerful playful ways wit h which you refresh your business life. And I ent reat you t o say a word for m e t o Mr. Jaggers, and t o represent t o him t hat , all circum st ances considered, he ought t o be m ore open wit h m e! ” I have never seen t wo m en look m ore oddly at one anot her t han Mr. Jaggers and Wem m ick did aft er t his apost rophe. At first , a m isgiving crossed m e t hat Wem m ick would be inst ant ly dism issed from his em ploym ent ; but , it m elt ed as I saw Mr. Jaggers relax int o som et hing like a sm ile, and Wem m ick becom e bolder. “ What 's all t his?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ You wit h an old fat her, and you wit h pleasant and playful ways?” “ Well! ” ret urned Wem m ick. “ I f I don't bring ‘em here, what does it m at t er?” 579
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, laying his hand upon m y arm , and sm iling openly, “ t his m an m ust be t he m ost cunning im post or in all London.” “ Not a bit of it ,” ret urned Wem m ick, growing bolder and bolder. “ I t hink you're anot her.” Again t hey exchanged t heir form er odd looks, each apparent ly st ill dist rust ful t hat t he ot her was t aking him in. “ You wit h a pleasant hom e?” said Mr. Jaggers. “ Since it don't int erfere wit h business,” ret urned Wem m ick, “ let it be so. Now, I look at you, sir, I shouldn't wonder if you m ight be planning and cont riving t o have a pleasant hom e of your own, one of t hese days, when you're t ired of all t his work.” Mr. Jaggers nodded his head ret rospect ively t wo or t hree t im es, and act ually drew a sigh. “ Pip,” said he, “ we won't t alk about ‘poor dream s; ’ you know m ore about such t hings t han I , having m uch fresher experience of t hat kind. But now, about t his ot her m at t er. I 'll put a case t o you. Mind! I adm it not hing.” He wait ed for m e t o declare t hat I quit e underst ood t hat he expressly said t hat he adm it t ed not hing. “ Now, Pip,” said Mr. Jaggers, “ put t his case. Put t he case t hat a wom an, under such circum st ances as you have m ent ioned, held her child concealed, and was obliged t o com m unicat e t he fact t o her legal adviser, on his represent ing t o her t hat he m ust know, wit h an eye t o t he lat it ude of his defence, how t he fact st ood about t hat child. Put t he case t hat at t he sam e t im e he held a t rust t o find a child for an eccent ric rich lady t o adopt and bring up.” 580
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I follow you, sir.” “ Put t he case t hat he lived in an at m osphere of evil, and t hat all he saw of children, was, t heir being generat ed in great num bers for cert ain dest ruct ion. Put t he case t hat he oft en saw children solem nly t ried at a crim inal bar, where t hey were held up t o be seen; put t he case t hat he habit ually knew of t heir being im prisoned, whipped, t ransport ed, neglect ed, cast out , qualified in all ways for t he hangm an, and growing up t o be hanged. Put t he case t hat pret t y nigh all t he children he saw in his daily business life, he had reason t o look upon as so m uch spawn, t o develop int o t he fish t hat were t o com e t o his net —t o be prosecut ed, defended, forsworn, m ade orphans, bedevilled som ehow.” “ I follow you, sir.” “ Put t he case, Pip, t hat here was one pret t y lit t le child out of t he heap, who could be saved; whom t he fat her believed dead, and dared m ake no st ir about ; as t o whom , over t he m ot her, t he legal adviser had t his power: “ I know what you did, and how you did it . You cam e so and so, t his was your m anner of at t ack and t his t he m anner of resist ance, you went so and so, you did such and such t hings t o divert suspicion. I have t racked you t hrough it all, and I t ell it you all. Part wit h t he child, unless it should be necessary t o produce it t o clear you, and t hen it shall be produced. Give t he child int o m y hands, and I will do m y best t o bring you off. I f you are saved, your child is saved t oo; if you are lost , your child is st ill saved.” Put t he case t hat t his was done, and t hat t he wom an was cleared.” “ I underst and you perfect ly.” 581
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ But t hat I m ake no adm issions?” “ That you m ake no adm issions.” And Wem m ick repeat ed, “ No adm issions.” “ Put t he case, Pip, t hat passion and t he t error of deat h had a lit t le shaken t he wom an's int ellect , and t hat when she was set at libert y, she was scared out of t he ways of t he world and went t o him t o be shelt ered. Put t he case t hat he t ook her in, and t hat he kept down t he old wild violent nat ure whenever he saw an inkling of it s breaking out , by assert ing his power over her in t he old way. Do you com prehend t he im aginary case?” “ Quit e.” “ Put t he case t hat t he child grew up, and was m arried for m oney. That t he m ot her was st ill living. That t he fat her was st ill living. That t he m ot her and fat her unknown t o one anot her, were dwelling wit hin so m any m iles, furlongs, yards if you like, of one anot her. That t he secret was st ill a secret , except t hat you had got wind of it . Put t hat last case t o yourself very carefully.” “ I do.” “ I ask Wem m ick t o put it t o him self very carefully.” And Wem m ick said, “ I do.” “ For whose sake would you reveal t he secret ? For t he fat her's? I t hink he would not be m uch t he bet t er for t he m ot her. For t he m ot her's? I t hink if she had done such a deed she would be safer where she was. For t he daught er's? I t hink it would hardly serve her, t o est ablish her parent age for t he inform at ion of her husband, and t o drag her back t o disgrace, aft er an escape of t went y years, pret t y secure t o last for life. 582
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
But , add t he case t hat you had loved her, Pip, and had m ade her t he subj ect of t hose ‘poor dream s’ which have, at one t im e or anot her, been in t he heads of m ore m en t han you t hink likely, t hen I t ell you t hat you had bet t er—and would m uch sooner when you had t hought well of it —chop off t hat bandaged left hand of yours wit h your bandaged right hand, and t hen pass t he chopper on t o Wem m ick t here, t o cut t hat off, t oo.” I looked at Wem m ick, whose face was very grave. He gravely t ouched his lips wit h his forefinger. I did t he sam e. Mr. Jaggers did t he sam e. “ Now, Wem m ick,” said t he lat t er t hen, resum ing his usual m anner, “ what it em was it you were at , when Mr. Pip cam e in?” St anding by for a lit t le, while t hey were at work, I observed t hat t he odd looks t hey had cast at one anot her were repeat ed several t im es: wit h t his difference now, t hat each of t hem seem ed suspicious, not t o say conscious, of having shown him self in a weak and unprofessional light t o t he ot her. For t his reason, I suppose, t hey were now inflexible wit h one anot her; Mr. Jaggers being highly dict at orial, and Wem m ick obst inat ely j ust ifying him self whenever t here was t he sm allest point in abeyance for a m om ent . I had never seen t hem on such ill t erm s; for generally t hey got on very well indeed t oget her. But , t hey were bot h happily relieved by t he opport une appearance of Mike, t he client wit h t he fur cap and t he habit of wiping his nose on his sleeve, whom I had seen on t he very first day of m y appearance wit hin t hose walls. This individual, who, eit her in his own person or in t hat of som e m em ber of 583
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
his fam ily, seem ed t o be always in t rouble ( which in t hat place m eant Newgat e) , called t o announce t hat his eldest daught er was t aken up on suspicion of shop- lift ing. As he im part ed t his m elancholy circum st ance t o Wem m ick, Mr. Jaggers st anding m agist erially before t he fire and t aking no share in t he proceedings, Mike's eye happened t o t winkle wit h a t ear. “ What are you about ?” dem anded Wem m ick, wit h t he ut m ost indignat ion. “ What do you com e snivelling here for?” “ I didn't go t o do it , Mr. Wem m ick.” “ You did,” said Wem m ick. “ How dare you? You're not in a fit st at e t o com e here, if you can't com e here wit hout splut t ering like a bad pen. What do you m ean by it ?” “ A m an can't help his feelings, Mr. Wem m ick,” pleaded Mike. “ His what ?” dem anded Wem m ick, quit e savagely. “ Say t hat again! ” “ Now, look here m y m an,” said Mr. Jaggers, advancing a st ep, and point ing t o t he door. “ Get out of t his office. I 'll have no feelings here. Get out .” “ I t serves you right ,” said Wem m ick, “ Get out .” So t he unfort unat e Mike very hum bly wit hdrew, and Mr. Jaggers and Wem m ick appeared t o have re- est ablished t heir good underst anding, and went t o work again wit h an air of refreshm ent upon t hem as if t hey had j ust had lunch.
584
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 52 From Lit t le Brit ain, I went , wit h m y cheque in m y pocket , t o Miss Skiffins's brot her, t he account ant ; and Miss Skiffins's brot her, t he account ant , going st raight t o Clarriker's and bringing Clarriker t o m e, I had t he great sat isfact ion of concluding t hat arrangem ent . I t was t he only good t hing I had done, and t he only com plet ed t hing I had done, since I was first apprised of m y great expect at ions. Clarriker inform ing m e on t hat occasion t hat t he affairs of t he House were st eadily progressing, t hat he would now be able t o est ablish a sm all branch- house in t he East which was m uch want ed for t he ext ension of t he business, and t hat Herbert in his new part nership capacit y would go out and t ake charge of it , I found t hat I m ust have prepared for a separat ion from m y friend, even t hough m y own affairs had been m ore set t led. And now indeed I felt as if m y last anchor were loosening it s hold, and I should soon be driving wit h t he winds and waves. But , t here was recom pense in t he j oy wit h which Herbert would com e hom e of a night and t ell m e of t hese changes, lit t le im agining t hat he t old m e no news, and would sket ch airy pict ures of him self conduct ing Clara Barley t o t he land of t he Arabian Night s, and of m e going out t o j oin t hem ( wit h a caravan of cam els, I believe) , and of our all going up t he Nile and seeing wonders. Wit hout being sanguine as t o m y own part in t hese bright plans, I felt t hat Herbert 's way was clearing fast , and t hat old Bill Barley had but t o st ick t o his 585
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
pepper and rum , and his daught er would soon be happily provided for. We had now got int o t he m ont h of March. My left arm , t hough it present ed no bad sym pt om s, t ook in t he nat ural course so long t o heal t hat I was st ill unable t o get a coat on. My right arm was t olerably rest ored; —disfigured, but fairly serviceable. On a Monday m orning, when Herbert and I were at breakfast , I received t he following let t er from Wem m ick by t he post . “ Walwort h. Burn t his as soon as read. Early in t he week, or say Wednesday, you m ight do what you know of, if you felt disposed t o t ry it . Now burn.” When I had shown t his t o Herbert and had put it in t he fire—but not before we had bot h got it by heart —we considered what t o do. For, of course m y being disabled could now be no longer kept out of view. “ I have t hought it over, again and again,” said Herbert , “ and I t hink I know a bet t er course t han t aking a Tham es wat erm an. Take St art op. A good fellow, a skilled hand, fond of us, and ent husiast ic and honourable.” I had t hought of him , m ore t han once. “ But how m uch would you t ell him , Herbert ?” “ I t is necessary t o t ell him very lit t le. Let him suppose it a m ere freak, but a secret one, unt il t he m orning com es: t hen let him know t hat t here is urgent reason for your get t ing Provis aboard and away. You go wit h him ?” “ No doubt .” “ Where?” 586
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I t had seem ed t o m e, in t he m any anxious considerat ions I had given t he point , alm ost indifferent what port we m ade for—Ham burg, Rot t erdam , Ant werp—t he place signified lit t le, so t hat he was got out of England. Any foreign st eam er t hat fell in our way and would t ake us up, would do. I had always proposed t o m yself t o get him well down t he river in t he boat ; cert ainly well beyond Gravesend, which was a crit ical place for search or inquiry if suspicion were afoot . As foreign st eam ers would leave London at about t he t im e of highwat er, our plan would be t o get down t he river by a previous ebb- t ide, and lie by in som e quiet spot unt il we could pull off t o one. The t im e when one would be due where we lay, wherever t hat m ight be, could be calculat ed pret t y nearly, if we m ade inquiries beforehand. Herbert assent ed t o all t his, and we went out im m ediat ely aft er breakfast t o pursue our invest igat ions. We found t hat a st eam er for Ham burg was likely t o suit our purpose best , and we direct ed our t hought s chiefly t o t hat vessel. But we not ed down what ot her foreign st eam ers would leave London wit h t he sam e t ide, and we sat isfied ourselves t hat we knew t he build and colour of each. We t hen separat ed for a few hours; I , t o get at once such passport s as were necessary; Herbert , t o see St art op at his lodgings. We bot h did what we had t o do wit hout any hindrance, and when we m et again at one o'clock report ed it done. I , for m y part , was prepared wit h passport s; Herbert had seen St art op, and he was m ore t han ready t o j oin. Those t wo should pull a pair of oars, we set t led, and I would st eer; our charge would be sit t er, and keep quiet ; as 587
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
speed was not our obj ect , we should m ake way enough. We arranged t hat Herbert should not com e hom e t o dinner before going t o Mill Pond Bank t hat evening; t hat he should not go t here at all, t o- m orrow evening, Tuesday; t hat he should prepare Provis t o com e down t o som e St airs hard by t he house, on Wednesday, when he saw us approach, and not sooner; t hat all t he arrangem ent s wit h him should be concluded t hat Monday night ; and t hat he should be com m unicat ed wit h no m ore in any way, unt il we t ook him on board. These precaut ions well underst ood by bot h of us, I went hom e. On opening t he out er door of our cham bers wit h m y key, I found a let t er in t he box, direct ed t o m e; a very dirt y let t er, t hough not ill- writ t en. I t had been delivered by hand ( of course since I left hom e) , and it s cont ent s were t hese: “ I f you are not afraid t o com e t o t he old m arshes t o- night or t om orrow night at Nine, and t o com e t o t he lit t le sluicehouse by t he lim ekiln, you had bet t er com e. I f you want inform at ion regarding your uncle Provis, you had m uch bet t er com e and t ell no one and lose no t im e. You m ust com e alone. Bring t his wit h you.” I had had load enough upon m y m ind before t he receipt of t his st range let t er. What t o do now, I could not t ell. And t he worst was, t hat I m ust decide quickly, or I should m iss t he aft ernoon coach, which would t ake m e down in t im e for t onight . To- m orrow night I could not t hink of going, for it would be t oo close upon t he t im e of t he flight . And again, for 588
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
anyt hing I knew, t he proffered inform at ion m ight have som e im port ant bearing on t he flight it self. I f I had had am ple t im e for considerat ion, I believe I should st ill have gone. Having hardly any t im e for considerat ion—m y wat ch showing m e t hat t he coach st art ed wit hin half an hour—I resolved t o go. I should cert ainly not have gone, but for t he reference t o m y Uncle Provis; t hat , com ing on Wem m ick's let t er and t he m orning's busy preparat ion, t urned t he scale. I t is so difficult t o becom e clearly possessed of t he cont ent s of alm ost any let t er, in a violent hurry, t hat I had t o read t his m yst erious epist le again, t wice, before it s inj unct ion t o m e t o be secret got m echanically int o m y m ind. Yielding t o it in t he sam e m echanical kind of way, I left a not e in pencil for Herbert , t elling him t hat as I should be so soon going away, I knew not for how long, I had decided t o hurry down and back, t o ascert ain for m yself how Miss Havisham was faring. I had t hen barely t im e t o get m y great - coat , lock up t he cham bers, and m ake for t he coach- office by t he short byways. I f I had t aken a hackney- chariot and gone by t he st reet s, I should have m issed m y aim ; going as I did, I caught t he coach j ust as it cam e out of t he yard. I was t he only inside passenger, j olt ing away knee- deep in st raw, when I cam e t o m yself. For, I really had not been m yself since t he receipt of t he let t er; it had so bewildered m e ensuing on t he hurry of t he m orning. The m orning hurry and flut t er had been great , for, long and anxiously as I had wait ed for Wem m ick, his hint had com e like a surprise at last . And now, I began t o wonder at 589
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
m yself for being in t he coach, and t o doubt whet her I had sufficient reason for being t here, and t o consider whet her I should get out present ly and go back, and t o argue against ever heeding an anonym ous com m unicat ion, and, in short , t o pass t hrough all t hose phases of cont radict ion and indecision t o which I suppose very few hurried people are st rangers. St ill, t he reference t o Provis by nam e, m ast ered everyt hing. I reasoned as I had reasoned already wit hout knowing it —if t hat be reasoning—in case any harm should befall him t hrough m y not going, how could I ever forgive m yself! I t was dark before we got down, and t he j ourney seem ed long and dreary t o m e who could see lit t le of it inside, and who could not go out side in m y disabled st at e. Avoiding t he Blue Boar, I put up at an inn of m inor reput at ion down t he t own, and ordered som e dinner. While it was preparing, I went t o Sat is House and inquired for Miss Havisham ; she was st ill very ill, t hough considered som et hing bet t er. My inn had once been a part of an ancient ecclesiast ical house, and I dined in a lit t le oct agonal com m on- room , like a font . As I was not able t o cut m y dinner, t he old landlord wit h a shining bald head did it for m e. This bringing us int o conversat ion, he was so good as t o ent ert ain m e wit h m y own st ory—of course wit h t he popular feat ure t hat Pum blechook was m y earliest benefact or and t he founder of m y fort unes. “ Do you know t he young m an?” said I . “ Know him ! ” repeat ed t he landlord. “ Ever since he was—no height at all.” “ Does he ever com e back t o t his neighbourhood?” 590
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Ay, he com es back,” said t he landlord, “ t o his great friends, now and again, and gives t he cold shoulder t o t he m an t hat m ade him .” “ What m an is t hat ?” “ Him t hat I speak of,” said t he landlord. “ Mr. Pum blechook.” “ I s he ungrat eful t o no one else?” “ No doubt he would be, if he could,” ret urned t he landlord, “ but he can't . And why? Because Pum blechook done everyt hing for him .” “ Does Pum blechook say so?” “ Say so! ” replied t he landlord. “ He han't no call t o say so.” “ But does he say so?” “ I t would t urn a m an's blood t o whit e wine winegar t o hear him t ell of it , sir,” said t he landlord. I t hought , “ Yet Joe, dear Joe, you never t ell of it . Longsuffering and loving Joe, you never com plain. Nor you, sweet t em pered Biddy! ” “ Your appet it e's been t ouched like, by your accident ,” said t he landlord, glancing at t he bandaged arm under m y coat . “ Try a t enderer bit .” “ No t hank you,” I replied, t urning from t he t able t o brood over t he fire. “ I can eat no m ore. Please t ake it away.” I had never been st ruck at so keenly, for m y t hanklessness t o Joe, as t hrough t he brazen im post or Pum blechook. The falser he, t he t ruer Joe; t he m eaner he, t he nobler Joe. My heart was deeply and m ost deservedly hum bled as I m used over t he fire for an hour or m ore. The st riking of t he clock aroused m e, but not from m y dej ect ion or rem orse, and 591
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
I got up and had m y coat fast ened round m y neck, and went out . I had previously sought in m y pocket s for t he let t er, t hat I m ight refer t o it again, but I could not find it , and was uneasy t o t hink t hat it m ust have been dropped in t he st raw of t he coach. I knew very well, however, t hat t he appoint ed place was t he lit t le sluice- house by t he lim ekiln on t he m arshes, and t he hour nine. Towards t he m arshes I now went st raight , having no t im e t o spare.
592
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 53 I t was a dark night , t hough t he full m oon rose as I left t he enclosed lands, and passed out upon t he m arshes. Beyond t heir dark line t here was a ribbon of clear sky, hardly broad enough t o hold t he red large m oon. I n a few m inut es she had ascended out of t hat clear field, in am ong t he piled m ount ains of cloud. There was a m elancholy wind, and t he m arshes were very dism al. A st ranger would have found t hem insupport able, and even t o m e t hey were so oppressive t hat I hesit at ed, half inclined t o go back. But , I knew t hem well, and could have found m y way on a far darker night , and had no excuse for ret urning, being t here. So, having com e t here against m y inclinat ion, I went on against it . The direct ion t hat I t ook, was not t hat in which m y old hom e lay, nor t hat in which we had pursued t he convict s. My back was t urned t owards t he dist ant Hulks as I walked on, and, t hough I could see t he old light s away on t he spit s of sand, I saw t hem over m y shoulder. I knew t he lim ekiln as well as I knew t he old Bat t ery, but t hey were m iles apart ; so t hat if a light had been burning at each point t hat night , t here would have been a long st rip of t he blank horizon bet ween t he t wo bright specks. At first , I had t o shut som e gat es aft er m e, and now and t hen t o st and st ill while t he cat t le t hat were lying in t he banked- up pat hway, arose and blundered down am ong t he 593
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
grass and reeds. But aft er a lit t le while, I seem ed t o have t he whole flat s t o m yself. I t was anot her half- hour before I drew near t o t he kiln. The lim e was burning wit h a sluggish st ifling sm ell, but t he fires were m ade up and left , and no workm en were visible. Hard by, was a sm all st one- quarry. I t lay direct ly in m y way, and had been worked t hat day, as I saw by t he t ools and barrows t hat were lying about . Com ing up again t o t he m arsh level out of t his excavat ion—for t he rude pat h lay t hrough it —I saw a light in t he old sluice- house. I quickened m y pace, and knocked at t he door wit h m y hand. Wait ing for som e reply, I looked about m e, not icing how t he sluice was abandoned and broken, and how t he house—of wood wit h a t iled roof—would not be proof against t he weat her m uch longer, if it were so even now, and how t he m ud and ooze were coat ed wit h lim e, and how t he choking vapour of t he kiln crept in a ghost ly way t owards m e. St ill t here was no answer, and I knocked again. No answer st ill, and I t ried t he lat ch. I t rose under m y hand, and t he door yielded. Looking in, I saw a light ed candle on a t able, a bench, and a m at t ress on a t ruckle bedst ead. As t here was a loft above, I called, “ I s t here any one here?” but no voice answered. Then, I looked at m y wat ch, and, finding t hat it was past nine, called again, “ I s t here any one here?” There being st ill no answer, I went out at t he door, irresolut e what t o do. I t was beginning t o rain fast . Seeing not hing save what I had seen already, I t urned back int o t he house, and st ood j ust wit hin t he shelt er of t he doorway, looking out int o t he 594
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
night . While I was considering t hat som e one m ust have been t here lat ely and m ust soon be com ing back, or t he candle would not be burning, it cam e int o m y head t o look if t he wick were long. I t urned round t o do so, and had t aken up t he candle in m y hand, when it was ext inguished by som e violent shock, and t he next t hing I com prehended, was, t hat I had been caught in a st rong running noose, t hrown over m y head from behind. “ Now,” said a suppressed voice wit h an oat h, “ I 've got you! ” “ What is t his?” I cried, st ruggling. “ Who is it ? Help, help, help! ” Not only were m y arm s pulled close t o m y sides, but t he pressure on m y bad arm caused m e exquisit e pain. Som et im es, a st rong m an's hand, som et im es a st rong m an's breast , was set against m y m out h t o deaden m y cries, and wit h a hot breat h always close t o m e, I st ruggled ineffect ually in t he dark, while I was fast ened t ight t o t he wall. “ And now,” said t he suppressed voice wit h anot her oat h, “ call out again, and I 'll m ake short work of you! ” Faint and sick wit h t he pain of m y inj ured arm , bewildered by t he surprise, and yet conscious how easily t his t hreat could be put in execut ion, I desist ed, and t ried t o ease m y arm were it ever so lit t le. But , it was bound t oo t ight for t hat . I felt as if, having been burnt before, it were now being boiled. The sudden exclusion of t he night and t he subst it ut ion of black darkness in it s place, warned m e t hat t he m an had closed a shut t er. Aft er groping about for a lit t le, he found t he flint and st eel he want ed, and began t o st rike a light . I 595
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
st rained m y sight upon t he sparks t hat fell am ong t he t inder, and upon which he breat hed and breat hed, m at ch in hand, but I could only see his lips, and t he blue point of t he m at ch; even t hose, but fit fully. The t inder was dam p—no wonder t here—and one aft er anot her t he sparks died out . The m an was in no hurry, and st ruck again wit h t he flint and st eel. As t he sparks fell t hick and bright about him , I could see his hands, and t ouches of his face, and could m ake out t hat he was seat ed and bending over t he t able; but not hing m ore. Present ly I saw his blue lips again, breat hing on t he t inder, and t hen a flare of light flashed up, and showed m e Orlick. Whom I had looked for, I don't know. I had not looked for him . Seeing him , I felt t hat I was in a dangerous st rait indeed, and I kept m y eyes upon him . He light ed t he candle from t he flaring m at ch wit h great deliberat ion, and dropped t he m at ch, and t rod it out . Then, he put t he candle away from him on t he t able, so t hat he could see m e, and sat wit h his arm s folded on t he t able and looked at m e. I m ade out t hat I was fast ened t o a st out perpendicular ladder a few inches from t he wall—a fixt ure t here—t he m eans of ascent t o t he loft above. “ Now,” said he, when we had surveyed one anot her for som e t im e, “ I 've got you.” “ Unbind m e. Let m e go! ” “ Ah! ” he ret urned, “ I 'll let you go. I 'll let you go t o t he m oon, I 'll let you go t o t he st ars. All in good t im e.” “ Why have you lured m e here?” “ Don't you know?” said he, wit h a deadly look 596
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Why have you set upon m e in t he dark?” “ Because I m ean t o do it all m yself. One keeps a secret bet t er t han t wo. Oh you enem y, you enem y! ” His enj oym ent of t he spect acle I furnished, as he sat wit h his arm s folded on t he t able, shaking his head at m e and hugging him self, had a m alignit y in it t hat m ade m e t rem ble. As I wat ched him in silence, he put his hand int o t he corner at his side, and t ook up a gun wit h a brass- bound st ock. “ Do you know t his?” said he, m aking as if he would t ake aim at m e. “ Do you know where you saw it afore? Speak, wolf! ” “ Yes,” I answered. “ You cost m e t hat place. You did. Speak! ” “ What else could I do?” “ You did t hat , and t hat would be enough, wit hout m ore. How dared you t o com e bet wixt m e and a young wom an I liked?” “ When did I ?” “ When didn't you? I t was you as always give Old Orlick a bad nam e t o her.” “ You gave it t o yourself; you gained it for yourself. I could have done you no harm , if you had done yourself none.” “ You're a liar. And you'll t ake any pains, and spend any m oney, t o drive m e out of t his count ry, will you?” said he, repeat ing m y words t o Biddy in t he last int erview I had wit h her. “ Now, I 'll t ell you a piece of inform at ion. I t was never so well wort h your while t o get m e out of t his count ry as it is t onight . Ah! I f it was all your m oney t went y t im es t old, t o t he 597
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
last brass farden! ” As he shook his heavy hand at m e, wit h his m out h snarling like a t iger's, I felt t hat it was t rue. “ What are you going t o do t o m e?” “ I 'm a- going,” said he, bringing his fist down upon t he t able wit h a heavy blow, and rising as t he blow fell, t o give it great er force, “ I 'm a- going t o have your life! ” He leaned forward st aring at m e, slowly unclenched his hand and drew it across his m out h as if his m out h wat ered for m e, and sat down again. “ You was always in Old Orlick's way since ever you was a child. You goes out of his way, t his present night . He'll have no m ore on you. You're dead.” I felt t hat I had com e t o t he brink of m y grave. For a m om ent I looked wildly round m y t rap for any chance of escape; but t here was none. “ More t han t hat ,” said he, folding his arm s on t he t able again, “ I won't have a rag of you, I won't have a bone of you, left on eart h. I 'll put your body in t he kiln—I 'd carry t wo such t o it , on m y shoulders—and, let people suppose what t hey m ay of you, t hey shall never know not hing.” My m ind, wit h inconceivable rapidit y, followed out all t he consequences of such a deat h. Est ella's fat her would believe I had desert ed him , would be t aken, would die accusing m e; even Herbert would doubt m e, when he com pared t he let t er I had left for him , wit h t he fact t hat I had called at Miss Havisham 's gat e for only a m om ent ; Joe and Biddy would never know how sorry I had been t hat night ; none would ever know what I had suffered, how t rue I had m eant t o be, what an agony I had passed t hrough. The deat h close before m e 598
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was t errible, but far m ore t errible t han deat h was t he dread of being m isrem em bered aft er deat h. And so quick were m y t hought s, t hat I saw m yself despised by unborn generat ions— Est ella's children, and t heir children—while t he wret ch's words were yet on his lips. “ Now, wolf,” said he, “ afore I kill you like any ot her beast —which is wot I m ean t o do and wot I have t ied you up for—I 'll have a good look at you and a good goad at you. Oh, you enem y! ” I t had passed t hrough m y t hought s t o cry out for help again; t hough few could know bet t er t han I , t he solit ary nat ure of t he spot , and t he hopelessness of aid. But as he sat gloat ing over m e, I was support ed by a scornful det est at ion of him t hat sealed m y lips. Above all t hings, I resolved t hat I would not ent reat him , and t hat I would die m aking som e last poor resist ance t o him . Soft ened as m y t hought s of all t he rest of m en were in t hat dire ext rem it y; hum bly beseeching pardon, as I did, of Heaven; m elt ed at heart , as I was, by t he t hought t hat I had t aken no farewell, and never never now could t ake farewell, of t hose who were dear t o m e, or could explain m yself t o t hem , or ask for t heir com passion on m y m iserable errors; st ill, if I could have killed him , even in dying, I would have done it . He had been drinking, and his eyes were red and bloodshot . Around his neck was slung a t in bot t le, as I had oft en seen his m eat and drink slung about him in ot her days. He brought t he bot t le t o his lips, and t ook a fiery drink from it ; and I sm elt t he st rong spirit s t hat I saw flash int o his face. 599
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Wolf! ” said he, folding his arm s again, “ Old Orlick's agoing t o t ell you som et hink. I t was you as did for your shrew sist er.” Again m y m ind, wit h it s form er inconceivable rapidit y, had exhaust ed t he whole subj ect of t he at t ack upon m y sist er, her illness, and her deat h, before his slow and hesit at ing speech had form ed t hese words. “ I t was you, villain,” said I . “ I t ell you it was your doing—I t ell you it was done t hrough you,” he ret ort ed, cat ching up t he gun, and m aking a blow wit h t he st ock at t he vacant air bet ween us. “ I com e upon her from behind, as I com e upon you t o- night . I giv’ it her! I left her for dead, and if t here had been a lim ekiln as nigh her as t here is now nigh you, she shouldn't have com e t o life again. But it warn't Old Orlick as did it ; it was you. You was favoured, and he was bullied and beat . Old Orlick bullied and beat , eh? Now you pays for it . You done it ; now you pays for it .” He drank again, and becam e m ore ferocious. I saw by his t ilt ing of t he bot t le t hat t here was no great quant it y left in it . I dist inct ly underst ood t hat he was working him self up wit h it s cont ent s, t o m ake an end of m e. I knew t hat every drop it held, was a drop of m y life. I knew t hat when I was changed int o a part of t he vapour t hat had crept t owards m e but a lit t le while before, like m y own warning ghost , he would do as he had done in m y sist er's case—m ake all hast e t o t he t own, and be seen slouching about t here, drinking at t he alehouses. My rapid m ind pursued him t o t he t own, m ade a pict ure of t he st reet wit h him in it , and cont rast ed it s light s 600
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and life wit h t he lonely m arsh and t he whit e vapour creeping over it , int o which I should have dissolved. I t was not only t hat I could have sum m ed up years and years and years while he said a dozen words, but t hat what he did say present ed pict ures t o m e, and not m ere words. I n t he excit ed and exalt ed st at e of m y brain, I could not t hink of a place wit hout seeing it , or of persons wit hout seeing t hem . I t is im possible t o over- st at e t he vividness of t hese im ages, and yet I was so int ent , all t he t im e, upon him him self—who would not be int ent on t he t iger crouching t o spring! —t hat I knew of t he slight est act ion of his fingers. When he had drunk t his second t im e, he rose from t he bench on which he sat , and pushed t he t able aside. Then, he t ook up t he candle, and shading it wit h his m urderous hand so as t o t hrow it s light on m e, st ood before m e, looking at m e and enj oying t he sight . “ Wolf, I 'll t ell you som et hing m ore. I t was Old Orlick as you t um bled over on your st airs t hat night .” I saw t he st aircase wit h it s ext inguished lam ps. I saw t he shadows of t he heavy st air- rails, t hrown by t he wat chm an's lant ern on t he wall. I saw t he room s t hat I was never t o see again; here, a door half open; t here, a door closed; all t he art icles of furnit ure around. “ And why was Old Orlick t here? I 'll t ell you som et hing m ore, wolf. You and her have pret t y well hunt ed m e out of t his count ry, so far as get t ing a easy living in it goes, and I 've t ook up wit h new com panions, and new m ast ers. Som e of ‘em writ es m y let t ers when I want s ‘em wrot e—do you m ind?— writ es m y let t ers, wolf! They writ es fift y hands; t hey're not 601
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
like sneaking you, as writ es but one. I 've had a firm m ind and a firm will t o have your life, since you was down here at your sist er's burying. I han't seen a way t o get you safe, and I 've looked art er you t o know your ins and out s. For, says Old Orlick t o him self, ‘Som ehow or anot her I 'll have him ! ’ What ! When I looks for you, I finds your uncle Provis, eh?” Mill Pond Bank, and Chinks's Basin, and t he Old Green Copper Rope- Walk, all so clear and plain! Provis in his room s, t he signal whose use was over, pret t y Clara, t he good m ot herly wom an, old Bill Barley on his back, all drift ing by, as on t he swift st ream of m y life fast running out t o sea! “ You wit h a uncle t oo! Why, I know'd you at Gargery's when you was so sm all a wolf t hat I could have t ook your weazen bet wixt t his finger and t hum b and chucked you away dead ( as I 'd t hought s o’ doing, odd t im es, when I see you loit ering am ongst t he pollards on a Sunday) , and you hadn't found no uncles t hen. No, not you! But when Old Orlick com e for t o hear t hat your uncle Provis had m ost like wore t he legiron wot Old Orlick had picked up, filed asunder, on t hese m eshes ever so m any year ago, and wot he kep by him t ill he dropped your sist er wit h it , like a bullock, as he m eans t o drop you—hey?—when he com e for t o hear t hat —hey?—” I n his savage t aunt ing, he flared t he candle so close at m e, t hat I t urned m y face aside, t o save it from t he flam e. “ Ah! ” he cried, laughing, aft er doing it again, “ t he burnt child dreads t he fire! Old Orlick knowed you was burnt , Old Orlick knowed you was sm uggling your uncle Provis away, Old Orlick's a m at ch for you and know'd you'd com e t o- night ! Now I 'll t ell you som et hing m ore, wolf, and t his ends it . 602
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
There's t hem t hat 's as good a m at ch for your uncle Provis as Old Orlick has been for you. Let him ‘ware t hem , when he's lost his nevvy! Let him ‘ware t hem , when no m an can't find a rag of his dear relat ion's clot hes, nor yet a bone of his body. There's t hem t hat can't and t hat won't have Magwit ch—yes, I know t he nam e! —alive in t he sam e land wit h t hem , and t hat 's had such sure inform at ion of him when he was alive in anot her land, as t hat he couldn't and shouldn't leave it unbeknown and put t hem in danger. P'raps it 's t hem t hat writ es fift y hands, and t hat 's not like sneaking you as writ es but one. ‘Ware Com peyson, Magwit ch, and t he gallows! ” He flared t he candle at m e again, sm oking m y face and hair, and for an inst ant blinding m e, and t urned his powerful back as he replaced t he light on t he t able. I had t hought a prayer, and had been wit h Joe and Biddy and Herbert , before he t urned t owards m e again. There was a clear space of a few feet bet ween t he t able and t he opposit e wall. Wit hin t his space, he now slouched backwards and forwards. His great st rengt h seem ed t o sit st ronger upon him t han ever before, as he did t his wit h his hands hanging loose and heavy at his sides, and wit h his eyes scowling at m e. I had no grain of hope left . Wild as m y inward hurry was, and wonderful t he force of t he pict ures t hat rushed by m e inst ead of t hought s, I could yet clearly underst and t hat unless he had resolved t hat I was wit hin a few m om ent s of surely perishing out of all hum an knowledge, he would never have t old m e what he had t old. Of a sudden, he st opped, t ook t he cork out of his bot t le, and t ossed it away. Light as it was, I heard it fall like a 603
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
plum m et . He swallowed slowly, t ilt ing up t he bot t le by lit t le and lit t le, and now he looked at m e no m ore. The last few drops of liquor he poured int o t he palm of his hand, and licked up. Then, wit h a sudden hurry of violence and swearing horribly, he t hrew t he bot t le from him , and st ooped; and I saw in his hand a st one- ham m er wit h a long heavy handle. The resolut ion I had m ade did not desert m e, for, wit hout ut t ering one vain word of appeal t o him , I shout ed out wit h all m y m ight , and st ruggled wit h all m y m ight . I t was only m y head and m y legs t hat I could m ove, but t o t hat ext ent I st ruggled wit h all t he force, unt il t hen unknown, t hat was wit hin m e. I n t he sam e inst ant I heard responsive shout s, saw figures and a gleam of light dash in at t he door, heard voices and t um ult , and saw Orlick em erge from a st ruggle of m en, as if it were t um bling wat er, clear t he t able at a leap, and fly out int o t he night . Aft er a blank, I found t hat I was lying unbound, on t he floor, in t he sam e place, wit h m y head on som e one's knee. My eyes were fixed on t he ladder against t he wall, when I cam e t o m yself—had opened on it before m y m ind saw it — and t hus as I recovered consciousness, I knew t hat I was in t he place where I had lost it . Too indifferent at first , even t o look round and ascert ain who support ed m e, I was lying looking at t he ladder, when t here cam e bet ween m e and it , a face. The face of Trabb's boy! “ I t hink he's all right ! ” said Trabb's boy, in a sober voice; “ but ain't he j ust pale t hough! ” 604
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
At t hese words, t he face of him who support ed m e looked over int o m ine, and I saw m y support er t o be— “ Herbert ! Great Heaven! ” “ Soft ly,” said Herbert . “ Gent ly, Handel. Don't be t oo eager.” “ And our old com rade, St art op! ” I cried, as he t oo bent over m e. “ Rem em ber what he is going t o assist us in,” said Herbert , “ and be calm .” The allusion m ade m e spring up; t hough I dropped again from t he pain in m y arm . “ The t im e has not gone by, Herbert , has it ? What night is t o- night ? How long have I been here?” For, I had a st range and st rong m isgiving t hat I had been lying t here a long t im e—a day and a night —t wo days and night s—m ore. “ The t im e has not gone by. I t is st ill Monday night .” “ Thank God! ” “ And you have all t o- m orrow, Tuesday, t o rest in,” said Herbert . “ But you can't help groaning, m y dear Handel. What hurt have you got ? Can you st and?” “ Yes, yes,” said I , “ I can walk. I have no hurt but in t his t hrobbing arm .” They laid it bare, and did what t hey could. I t was violent ly swollen and inflam ed, and I could scarcely endure t o have it t ouched. But , t hey t ore up t heir handkerchiefs t o m ake fresh bandages, and carefully replaced it in t he sling, unt il we could get t o t he t own and obt ain som e cooling lot ion t o put upon it . I n a lit t le while we had shut t he door of t he dark and em pt y sluice- house, and were passing t hrough t he quarry on our 605
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
way back. Trabb's boy—Trabb's overgrown young m an now— went before us wit h a lant ern, which was t he light I had seen com e in at t he door. But , t he m oon was a good t wo hours higher t han when I had last seen t he sky, and t he night t hough rainy was m uch light er. The whit e vapour of t he kiln was passing from us as we went by, and, as I had t hought a prayer before, I t hought a t hanksgiving now. Ent reat ing Herbert t o t ell m e how he had com e t o m y rescue—which at first he had flat ly refused t o do, but had insist ed on m y rem aining quiet —I learnt t hat I had in m y hurry dropped t he let t er, open, in our cham bers, where he, com ing hom e t o bring wit h him St art op whom he had m et in t he st reet on his way t o m e, found it , very soon aft er I was gone. I t s t one m ade him uneasy, and t he m ore so because of t he inconsist ency bet ween it and t he hast y let t er I had left for him . His uneasiness increasing inst ead of subsiding aft er a quart er of an hour's considerat ion, he set off for t he coachoffice, wit h St art op, who volunt eered his com pany, t o m ake inquiry when t he next coach went down. Finding t hat t he aft ernoon coach was gone, and finding t hat his uneasiness grew int o posit ive alarm , as obst acles cam e in his way, he resolved t o follow in a post - chaise. So, he and St art op arrived at t he Blue Boar, fully expect ing t here t o find m e, or t idings of m e; but , finding neit her, went on t o Miss Havisham 's, where t hey lost m e. Hereupon t hey went back t o t he hot el ( doubt less at about t he t im e when I was hearing t he popular local version of m y own st ory) , t o refresh t hem selves and t o get som e one t o guide t hem out upon t he m arshes. Am ong t he loungers under t he Boar's archway, happened t o be 606
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Trabb's boy—t rue t o his ancient habit of happening t o be everywhere where he had no business—and Trabb's boy had seen m e passing from Miss Havisham 's in t he direct ion of m y dining- place. Thus, Trabb's boy becam e t heir guide, and wit h him t hey went out t o t he sluice- house: t hough by t he t own way t o t he m arshes, which I had avoided. Now, as t hey went along, Herbert reflect ed, t hat I m ight , aft er all, have been brought t here on som e genuine and serviceable errand t ending t o Provis's safet y, and, bet hinking him self t hat in t hat case int errupt ion m ust be m ischievous, left his guide and St art op on t he edge of t he quarry, and went on by him self, and st ole round t he house t wo or t hree t im es, endeavouring t o ascert ain whet her all was right wit hin. As he could hear not hing but indist inct sounds of one deep rough voice ( t his was while m y m ind was so busy) , he even at last began t o doubt whet her I was t here, when suddenly I cried out loudly, and he answered t he cries, and rushed in, closely followed by t he ot her t wo. When I t old Herbert what had passed wit hin t he house, he was for our im m ediat ely going before a m agist rat e in t he t own, lat e at night as it was, and get t ing out a warrant . But , I had already considered t hat such a course, by det aining us t here, or binding us t o com e back, m ight be fat al t o Provis. There was no gainsaying t his difficult y, and we relinquished all t hought s of pursuing Orlick at t hat t im e. For t he present , under t he circum st ances, we deem ed it prudent t o m ake rat her light of t he m at t er t o Trabb's boy; who I am convinced would have been m uch affect ed by disappoint m ent , if he had known t hat his int ervent ion saved m e from t he lim ekiln. Not 607
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat Trabb's boy was of a m alignant nat ure, but t hat he had t oo m uch spare vivacit y, and t hat it was in his const it ut ion t o want variet y and excit em ent at anybody's expense. When we part ed, I present ed him wit h t wo guineas ( which seem ed t o m eet his views) , and t old him t hat I was sorry ever t o have had an ill opinion of him ( which m ade no im pression on him at all) . Wednesday being so close upon us, we det erm ined t o go back t o London t hat night , t hree in t he post - chaise; t he rat her, as we should t hen be clear away, before t he night 's advent ure began t o be t alked of. Herbert got a large bot t le of st uff for m y arm , and by dint of having t his st uff dropped over it all t he night t hrough, I was j ust able t o bear it s pain on t he j ourney. I t was daylight when we reached t he Tem ple, and I went at once t o bed, and lay in bed all day. My t error, as I lay t here, of falling ill and being unfit t ed for t om orrow, was so beset t ing, t hat I wonder it did not disable m e of it self. I t would have done so, pret t y surely, in conj unct ion wit h t he m ent al wear and t ear I had suffered, but for t he unnat ural st rain upon m e t hat t o- m orrow was. So anxiously looked forward t o, charged wit h such consequences, it s result s so im penet rably hidden t hough so near. No precaut ion could have been m ore obvious t han our refraining from com m unicat ion wit h him t hat day; yet t his again increased m y rest lessness. I st art ed at every foot st ep and every sound, believing t hat he was discovered and t aken, and t his was t he m essenger t o t ell m e so. I persuaded m yself t hat I knew he was t aken; t hat t here was som et hing m ore 608
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
upon m y m ind t han a fear or a present im ent ; t hat t he fact had occurred, and I had a m yst erious knowledge of it . As t he day wore on and no ill news cam e, as t he day closed in and darkness fell, m y overshadowing dread of being disabled by illness before t o- m orrow m orning, alt oget her m ast ered m e. My burning arm t hrobbed, and m y burning head t hrobbed, and I fancied I was beginning t o wander. I count ed up t o high num bers, t o m ake sure of m yself, and repeat ed passages t hat I knew in prose and verse. I t happened som et im es t hat in t he m ere escape of a fat igued m ind, I dozed for som e m om ent s or forgot ; t hen I would say t o m yself wit h a st art , “ Now it has com e, and I am t urning delirious! ” They kept m e very quiet all day, and kept m y arm const ant ly dressed, and gave m e cooling drinks. Whenever I fell asleep, I awoke wit h t he not ion I had had in t he sluicehouse, t hat a long t im e had elapsed and t he opport unit y t o save him was gone. About m idnight I got out of bed and went t o Herbert , wit h t he convict ion t hat I had been asleep for four- and- t went y hours, and t hat Wednesday was past . I t was t he last self- exhaust ing effort of m y fret fulness, for, aft er t hat , I slept soundly. Wednesday m orning was dawning when I looked out of window. The winking light s upon t he bridges were already pale, t he com ing sun was like a m arsh of fire on t he horizon. The river, st ill dark and m yst erious, was spanned by bridges t hat were t urning coldly grey, wit h here and t here at t op a warm t ouch from t he burning in t he sky. As I looked along t he clust ered roofs, wit h Church t owers and spires shoot ing int o t he unusually clear air, t he sun rose up, and a veil 609
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
seem ed t o be drawn from t he river, and m illions of sparkles burst out upon it s wat ers. From m e t oo, a veil seem ed t o be drawn, and I felt st rong and well. Herbert lay asleep in his bed, and our old fellow- st udent lay asleep on t he sofa. I could not dress m yself wit hout help, but I m ade up t he fire, which was st ill burning, and got som e coffee ready for t hem . I n good t im e t hey t oo st art ed up st rong and well, and we adm it t ed t he sharp m orning air at t he windows, and looked at t he t ide t hat was st ill flowing t owards us. “ When it t urns at nine o'clock,” said Herbert , cheerfully, “ look out for us, and st and ready, you over t here at Mill Pond Bank! ”
610
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 54 I t was one of t hose March days when t he sun shines hot and t he wind blows cold: when it is sum m er in t he light , and wint er in t he shade. We had out pea- coat s wit h us, and I t ook a bag. Of all m y worldly possessions I t ook no m ore t han t he few necessaries t hat filled t he bag. Where I m ight go, what I m ight do, or when I m ight ret urn, were quest ions ut t erly unknown t o m e; nor did I vex m y m ind wit h t hem , for it was wholly set on Provis's safet y. I only wondered for t he passing m om ent , as I st opped at t he door and looked back, under what alt ered circum st ances I should next see t hose room s, if ever. We loit ered down t o t he Tem ple st airs, and st ood loit ering t here, as if we were not quit e decided t o go upon t he wat er at all. Of course I had t aken care t hat t he boat should be ready and everyt hing in order. Aft er a lit t le show of indecision, which t here were none t o see but t he t wo or t hree am phibious creat ures belonging t o our Tem ple st airs, we went on board and cast off; Herbert in t he bow, I st eering. I t was t hen about high- wat er—half- past eight . Our plan was t his. The t ide, beginning t o run down at nine, and being wit h us unt il t hree, we int ended st ill t o creep on aft er it had t urned, and row against it unt il dark. We should t hen be well in t hose long reaches below Gravesend, bet ween Kent and Essex, where t he river is broad and solit ary, where t he wat erside inhabit ant s are very few, and where lone public- houses are scat t ered here and t here, of which we could 611
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
choose one for a rest ing- place. There, we m eant t o lie by, all night . The st eam er for Ham burg, and t he st eam er for Rot t erdam , would st art from London at about nine on Thursday m orning. We should know at what t im e t o expect t hem , according t o where we were, and would hail t he first ; so t hat if by any accident we were not t aken abroad, we should have anot her chance. We knew t he dist inguishing m arks of each vessel. The relief of being at last engaged in t he execut ion of t he purpose, was so great t o m e t hat I felt it difficult t o realize t he condit ion in which I had been a few hours before. The crisp air, t he sunlight , t he m ovem ent on t he river, and t he m oving river it self—t he road t hat ran wit h us, seem ing t o sym pat hize wit h us, anim at e us, and encourage us on— freshened m e wit h new hope. I felt m ort ified t o be of so lit t le use in t he boat ; but , t here were few bet t er oarsm en t han m y t wo friends, and t hey rowed wit h a st eady st roke t hat was t o last all day. At t hat t im e, t he st eam - t raffic on t he Tham es was far below it s present ext ent , and wat erm en's boat s were far m ore num erous. Of barges, sailing colliers, and coast ing t raders, t here were perhaps as m any as now; but , of st eam - ships, great and sm all, not a t it he or a t went iet h part so m any. Early as it was, t here were plent y of scullers going here and t here t hat m orning, and plent y of barges dropping down wit h t he t ide; t he navigat ion of t he river bet ween bridges, in an open boat , was a m uch easier and com m oner m at t er in t hose days t han it is in t hese; and we went ahead am ong m any skiffs and wherries, briskly. 612
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Old London Bridge was soon passed, and old Billingsgat e m arket wit h it s oyst er- boat s and Dut chm en, and t he Whit e Tower and Trait or's Gat e, and we were in am ong t he t iers of shipping. Here, were t he Leit h, Aberdeen, and Glasgow st eam ers, loading and unloading goods, and looking im m ensely high out of t he wat er as we passed alongside; here, were colliers by t he score and score, wit h t he coalwhippers plunging off st ages on deck, as count erweight s t o m easures of coal swinging up, which were t hen rat t led over t he side int o barges; here, at her m oorings was t o- m orrow's st eam er for Rot t erdam , of which we t ook good not ice; and here t o- m orrow's for Ham burg, under whose bowsprit we crossed. And now I , sit t ing in t he st ern, could see wit h a fast er beat ing heart , Mill Pond Bank and Mill Pond st airs. “ I s he t here?” said Herbert . “ Not yet .” “ Right ! He was not t o com e down t ill he saw us. Can you see his signal?” “ Not well from here; but I t hink I see it .—Now, I see him ! Pull bot h. Easy, Herbert . Oars! ” We t ouched t he st airs light ly for a single m om ent , and he was on board and we were off again. He had a boat - cloak wit h him , and a black canvas bag, and he looked as like a river- pilot as m y heart could have wished. “ Dear boy! ” he said, put t ing his arm on m y shoulder as he t ook his seat . “ Fait hful dear boy, well done. Thankye, t hankye! ” Again am ong t he t iers of shipping, in and out , avoiding rust y chain- cables frayed hem pen hawsers and bobbing buoys, sinking for t he m om ent float ing broken basket s, 613
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
scat t ering float ing chips of wood and shaving, cleaving float ing scum of coal, in and out , under t he figure- head of t he John of Sunderland m aking a speech t o t he winds ( as is done by m any Johns) , and t he Bet sy of Yarm out h wit h a firm form alit y of bosom and her nobby eyes st art ing t wo inches out of her head, in and out , ham m ers going in shipbuilders'yards, saws going at t im ber, clashing engines going at t hings unknown, pum ps going in leaky ships, capst ans going, ships going out t o sea, and unint elligible seacreat ures roaring curses over t he bulwarks at respondent light erm en, in and out —out at last upon t he clearer river, where t he ships’ boys m ight t ake t heir fenders in, no longer fishing in t roubled wat ers wit h t hem over t he side, and where t he fest ooned sails m ight fly out t o t he wind. At t he St airs where we had t aken him abroad, and ever since, I had looked warily for any t oken of our being suspect ed. I had seen none. We cert ainly had not been, and at t hat t im e as cert ainly we were not , eit her at t ended or followed by any boat . I f we had been wait ed on by any boat , I should have run in t o shore, and have obliged her t o go on, or t o m ake her purpose evident . But , we held our own, wit hout any appearance of m olest at ion. He had his boat - cloak on him , and looked, as I have said, a nat ural part of t he scene. I t was rem arkable ( but perhaps t he wret ched life he had led, account ed for it ) , t hat he was t he least anxious of any of us. He was not indifferent , for he t old m e t hat he hoped t o live t o see his gent lem an one of t he best of gent lem en in a foreign count ry; he was not disposed t o be passive or resigned, as I underst ood it ; but he had no 614
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
not ion of m eet ing danger half way. When it cam e upon him , he confront ed it , but it m ust com e before he t roubled him self. “ I f you knowed, dear boy,” he said t o m e, “ what it is t o sit here alonger m y dear boy and have m y sm oke, art er having been day by day bet wixt four walls, you'd envy m e. But you don't know what it is.” “ I t hink I know t he delight s of freedom ,” I answered. “ Ah,” said he, shaking his head gravely. “ But you don't know it equal t o m e. You m ust have been under lock and key, dear boy, t o know it equal t o m e—but I ain't a- going t o be low.” I t occurred t o m e as inconsist ent , t hat for any m ast ering idea, he should have endangered his freedom and even his life. But I reflect ed t hat perhaps freedom wit hout danger was t oo m uch apart from all t he habit of his exist ence t o be t o him what it would be t o anot her m an. I was not far out , since he said, aft er sm oking a lit t le: “ You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t 'ot her side t he world, I was always a- looking t o t his side; and it com e flat t o be t here, for all I was a- growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwit ch, and Magwit ch could com e, and Magwit ch could go, and nobody's head would be t roubled about him . They ain't so easy concerning m e here, dear boy—wouldn't be, least wise, if t hey knowed where I was.” “ I f all goes well,” said I , “ you will be perfect ly free and safe again, wit hin a few hours.” “ Well,” he ret urned, drawing a long breat h, “ I hope so.” “ And t hink so?” 615
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
He dipped his hand in t he wat er over t he boat 's gunwale, and said, sm iling wit h t hat soft ened air upon him which was not new t o m e: “ Ay, I s'pose I t hink so, dear boy. We'd be puzzled t o be m ore quiet and easy- going t han we are at present . But —it 's a- flowing so soft and pleasant t hrough t he wat er, p'raps, as m akes m e t hink it —I was a- t hinking t hrough m y sm oke j ust t hen, t hat we can no m ore see t o t he bot t om of t he next few hours, t han we can see t o t he bot t om of t his river what I cat ches hold of. Nor yet we can't no m ore hold t heir t ide t han I can hold t his. And it 's run t hrough m y fingers and gone, you see! ” holding up his dripping hand. “ But for your face, I should t hink you were a lit t le despondent ,” said I . “ Not a bit on it , dear boy! I t com es of flowing on so quiet , and of t hat t here rippling at t he boat 's head m aking a sort of a Sunday t une. Maybe I 'm a- growing a t rifle old besides.” He put his pipe back in his m out h wit h an undist urbed expression of face, and sat as com posed and cont ent ed as if we were already out of England. Yet he was as subm issive t o a word of advice as if he had been in const ant t error, for, when we ran ashore t o get som e bot t les of beer int o t he boat , and he was st epping out , I hint ed t hat I t hought he would be safest where he was, and he said. “ Do you, dear boy?” and quiet ly sat down again. The air felt cold upon t he river, but it was a bright day, and t he sunshine was very cheering. The t ide ran st rong, I t ook care t o lose none of it , and our st eady st roke carried us on t horoughly well. By im percept ible degrees, as t he t ide ran 616
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
out , we lost m ore and m ore of t he nearer woods and hills, and dropped lower and lower bet ween t he m uddy banks, but t he t ide was yet wit h us when we were off Gravesend. As our charge was wrapped in his cloak, I purposely passed wit hin a boat or t wo's lengt h of t he float ing Cust om House, and so out t o cat ch t he st ream , alongside of t wo em igrant ships, and under t he bows of a large t ransport wit h t roops on t he forecast le looking down at us. And soon t he t ide began t o slacken, and t he craft lying at anchor t o swing, and present ly t hey had all swung round, and t he ships t hat were t aking advant age of t he new t ide t o get up t o t he Pool, began t o crowd upon us in a fleet , and we kept under t he shore, as m uch out of t he st rengt h of t he t ide now as we could, st anding carefully off from low shallows and m udbanks. Our oarsm en were so fresh, by dint of having occasionally let her drive wit h t he t ide for a m inut e or t wo, t hat a quart er of an hour's rest proved full as m uch as t hey want ed. We got ashore am ong som e slippery st ones while we at e and drank what we had wit h us, and looked about . I t was like m y own m arsh count ry, flat and m onot onous, and wit h a dim horizon; while t he winding river t urned and t urned, and t he great float ing buoys upon it t urned and t urned, and everyt hing else seem ed st randed and st ill. For, now, t he last of t he fleet of ships was round t he last low point we had headed; and t he last green barge, st raw- laden, wit h a brown sail, had followed; and som e ballast - light ers, shaped like a child's first rude im it at ion of a boat , lay low in t he m ud; and a lit t le squat shoal- light house on open piles, st ood crippled in t he m ud on st ilt s and crut ches; and slim y st akes st uck out of t he m ud, 617
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and slim y st ones st uck out of t he m ud, and red landm arks and t idem arks st uck out of t he m ud, and an old landing- st age and an old roofless building slipped int o t he m ud, and all about us was st agnat ion and m ud. We pushed off again, and m ade what way we could. I t was m uch harder work now, but Herbert and St art op persevered, and rowed, and rowed, and rowed, unt il t he sun went down. By t hat t im e t he river had lift ed us a lit t le, so t hat we could see above t he bank. There was t he red sun, on t he low level of t he shore, in a purple haze, fast deepening int o black; and t here was t he solit ary flat m arsh; and far away t here were t he rising grounds, bet ween which and us t here seem ed t o be no life, save here and t here in t he foreground a m elancholy gull. As t he night was fast falling, and as t he m oon, being past t he full, would not rise early, we held a lit t le council: a short one, for clearly our course was t o lie by at t he first lonely t avern we could find. So, t hey plied t heir oars once m ore, and I looked out for anyt hing like a house. Thus we held on, speaking lit t le, for four or five dull m iles. I t was very cold, and, a collier com ing by us, wit h her galley- fire sm oking and flaring, looked like a com fort able hom e. The night was as dark by t his t im e as it would be unt il m orning; and what light we had, seem ed t o com e m ore from t he river t han t he sky, as t he oars in t heir dipping st ruck at a few reflect ed st ars. At t his dism al t im e we were evident ly all possessed by t he idea t hat we were followed. As t he t ide m ade, it flapped heavily at irregular int ervals against t he shore; and whenever such a sound cam e, one or ot her of us was sure t o st art and 618
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
look in t hat direct ion. Here and t here, t he set of t he current had worn down t he bank int o a lit t le creek, and we were all suspicious of such places, and eyed t hem nervously. Som et im es, “ What was t hat ripple?” one of us would say in a low voice. Or anot her, “ I s t hat a boat yonder?” And aft erwards, we would fall int o a dead silence, and I would sit im pat ient ly t hinking wit h what an unusual am ount of noise t he oars worked in t he t howels. At lengt h we descried a light and a roof, and present ly aft erwards ran alongside a lit t le causeway m ade of st ones t hat had been picked up hard by. Leaving t he rest in t he boat , I st epped ashore, and found t he light t o be in a window of a public- house. I t was a dirt y place enough, and I dare say not unknown t o sm uggling advent urers; but t here was a good fire in t he kit chen, and t here were eggs and bacon t o eat , and various liquors t o drink. Also, t here were t wo double- bedded room s—" such as t hey were,” t he landlord said. No ot her com pany was in t he house t han t he landlord, his wife, and a grizzled m ale creat ure, t he “ Jack” of t he lit t le causeway, who was as slim y and sm eary as if he had been low- wat er m ark t oo. Wit h t his assist ant , I went down t o t he boat again, and we all cam e ashore, and brought out t he oars, and rudder, and boat - hook, and all else, and hauled her up for t he night . We m ade a very good m eal by t he kit chen fire, and t hen apport ioned t he bedroom s: Herbert and St art op were t o occupy one; I and our charge t he ot her. We found t he air as carefully excluded from bot h, as if air were fat al t o life; and t here were m ore dirt y clot hes and bandboxes under t he beds 619
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t han I should have t hought t he fam ily possessed. But , we considered ourselves well off, not wit hst anding, for a m ore solit ary place we could not have found. While we were com fort ing ourselves by t he fire aft er our m eal, t he Jack—who was sit t ing in a corner, and who had a bloat ed pair of shoes on, which he had exhibit ed while we were eat ing our eggs and bacon, as int erest ing relics t hat he had t aken a few days ago from t he feet of a drowned seam an washed ashore—asked m e if we had seen a four- oared galley going up wit h t he t ide? When I t old him No, he said she m ust have gone down t hen, and yet she “ t ook up t oo,” when she left t here. “ They m ust ha’ t hought bet t er on't for som e reason or anot her,” said t he Jack, “ and gone down.” “ A four- oared galley, did you say?” said I . “ A four,” said t he Jack, “ and t wo sit t ers.” “ Did t hey com e ashore here?” “ They put in wit h a st one t wo- gallon j ar, for som e beer. I 'd ha'been glad t o pison t he beer m yself,” said t he Jack, “ or put som e rat t ling physic in it .” “ Why?” “ I know why,” said t he Jack. He spoke in a slushy voice, as if m uch m ud had washed int o his t hroat . “ He t hinks,” said t he landlord: a weakly m edit at ive m an wit h a pale eye, who seem ed t o rely great ly on his Jack: “ he t hinks t hey was, what t hey wasn't .” “ I knows what I t hinks,” observed t he Jack. “ You t hinks Cust um ‘Us, Jack?” said t he landlord. “ I do,” said t he Jack. 620
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Then you're wrong, Jack.” “ Am I ! ” I n t he infinit e m eaning of his reply and his boundless confidence in his views, t he Jack t ook one of his bloat ed shoes off, looked int o it , knocked a few st ones out of it on t he kit chen floor, and put it on again. He did t his wit h t he air of a Jack who was so right t hat he could afford t o do anyt hing. “ Why, what do you m ake out t hat t hey done wit h t heir but t ons t hen, Jack?” asked t he landlord, vacillat ing weakly. “ Done wit h t heir but t ons?” ret urned t he Jack. “ Chucked ‘em overboard. Swallered ‘em . Sowed ‘em , t o com e up sm all salad. Done wit h t heir but t ons! ” “ Don't be cheeky, Jack,” rem onst rat ed t he landlord, in a m elancholy and pat het ic way. “ A Cust um ‘Us officer knows what t o do wit h his But t ons,” said t he Jack, repeat ing t he obnoxious word wit h t he great est cont em pt , “ when t hey com es bet wixt him and his own light . A Four and t wo sit t ers don't go hanging and hovering, up wit h one t ide and down wit h anot her, and bot h wit h and against anot her, wit hout t here being Cust um ‘Us at t he bot t om of it .” Saying which he went out in disdain; and t he landlord, having no one t o reply upon, found it im pract icable t o pursue t he subj ect . This dialogue m ade us all uneasy, and m e very uneasy. The dism al wind was m ut t ering round t he house, t he t ide was flapping at t he shore, and I had a feeling t hat we were caged and t hreat ened. A four- oared galley hovering about in so unusual a way as t o at t ract t his not ice, was an ugly circum st ance t hat I could not get rid of. When I had induced 621
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Provis t o go up t o bed, I went out side wit h m y t wo com panions ( St art op by t his t im e knew t he st at e of t he case) , and held anot her council. Whet her we should rem ain at t he house unt il near t he st eam er's t im e, which would be about one in t he aft ernoon; or whet her we should put off early in t he m orning; was t he quest ion we discussed. On t he whole we deem ed it t he bet t er course t o lie where we were, unt il wit hin an hour or so of t he st eam er's t im e, and t hen t o get out in her t rack, and drift easily wit h t he t ide. Having set t led t o do t his, we ret urned int o t he house and went t o bed. I lay down wit h t he great er part of m y clot hes on, and slept well for a few hours. When I awoke, t he wind had risen, and t he sign of t he house ( t he Ship) was creaking and banging about , wit h noises t hat st art led m e. Rising soft ly, for m y charge lay fast asleep, I looked out of t he window. I t com m anded t he causeway where we had hauled up our boat , and, as m y eyes adapt ed t hem selves t o t he light of t he clouded m oon, I saw t wo m en looking int o her. They passed by under t he window, looking at not hing else, and t hey did not go down t o t he landing- place which I could discern t o be em pt y, but st ruck across t he m arsh in t he direct ion of t he Nore. My first im pulse was t o call up Herbert , and show him t he t wo m en going away. But , reflect ing before I got int o his room , which was at t he back of t he house and adj oined m ine, t hat he and St art op had had a harder day t han I , and were fat igued, I forbore. Going back t o m y window, I could see t he t wo m en m oving over t he m arsh. I n t hat light , however, I 622
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
soon lost t hem , and feeling very cold, lay down t o t hink of t he m at t er, and fell asleep again. We were up early. As we walked t o and fro, all four t oget her, before breakfast , I deem ed it right t o recount what I had seen. Again our charge was t he least anxious of t he part y. I t was very likely t hat t he m en belonged t o t he Cust om House, he said quiet ly, and t hat t hey had no t hought of us. I t ried t o persuade m yself t hat it was so—as, indeed, it m ight easily be. However, I proposed t hat he and I should walk away t oget her t o a dist ant point we could see, and t hat t he boat should t ake us aboard t here, or as near t here as m ight prove feasible, at about noon. This being considered a good precaut ion, soon aft er breakfast he and I set fort h, wit hout saying anyt hing at t he t avern. He sm oked his pipe as we went along, and som et im es st opped t o clap m e on t he shoulder. One would have supposed t hat it was I who was in danger, not he, and t hat he was reassuring m e. We spoke very lit t le. As we approached t he point , I begged him t o rem ain in a shelt ered place, while I went on t o reconnoit re; for, it was t owards it t hat t he m en had passed in t he night . He com plied, and I went on alone. There was no boat off t he point , nor any boat drawn up anywhere near it , nor were t here any signs of t he m en having em barked t here. But , t o be sure t he t ide was high, and t here m ight have been som e foot pint s under wat er. When he looked out from his shelt er in t he dist ance, and saw t hat I waved m y hat t o him t o com e up, he rej oined m e, and t here we wait ed; som et im es lying on t he bank wrapped in our coat s, and som et im es m oving about t o warm 623
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ourselves: unt il we saw our boat com ing round. We got aboard easily, and rowed out int o t he t rack of t he st eam er. By t hat t im e it want ed but t en m inut es of one o'clock, and we began t o look out for her sm oke. But , it was half- past one before we saw her sm oke, and soon aft erwards we saw behind it t he sm oke of anot her st eam er. As t hey were com ing on at full speed, we got t he t wo bags ready, and t ook t hat opport unit y of saying good- bye t o Herbert and St art op. We had all shaken hands cordially, and neit her Herbert 's eyes nor m ine were quit e dry, when I saw a four- oared galley shoot out from under t he bank but a lit t le way ahead of us, and row out int o t he sam e t rack. A st ret ch of shore had been as yet bet ween us and t he st eam er's sm oke, by reason of t he bend and wind of t he river; but now she was visible, com ing head on. I called t o Herbert and St art op t o keep before t he t ide, t hat she m ight see us lying by for her, and I adj ured Provis t o sit quit e st ill, wrapped in his cloak. He answered cheerily, “ Trust t o m e, dear boy,” and sat like a st at ue. Meant im e t he galley, which was very skilfully handled, had crossed us, let us com e up wit h her, and fallen alongside. Leaving j ust room enough for t he play of t he oars, she kept alongside, drift ing when we drift ed, and pulling a st roke or t wo when we pulled. Of t he t wo sit t ers one held t he rudder lines, and looked at us at t ent ively—as did all t he rowers; t he ot her sit t er was wrapped up, m uch as Provis was, and seem ed t o shrink, and whisper som e inst ruct ion t o t he st eerer as he looked at us. Not a word was spoken in eit her boat . 624
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
St art op could m ake out , aft er a few m inut es, which st eam er was first , and gave m e t he word “ Ham burg,” in a low voice as we sat face t o face. She was nearing us very fast , and t he beat ing of her peddles grew louder and louder. I felt as if her shadow were absolut ely upon us, when t he galley hailed us. I answered. “ You have a ret urned Transport t here,” said t he m an who held t he lines. “ That 's t he m an, wrapped in t he cloak. His nam e is Abel Magwit ch, ot herwise Provis. I apprehend t hat m an, and call upon him t o surrender, and you t o assist .” At t he sam e m om ent , wit hout giving any audible direct ion t o his crew, he ran t he galley abroad of us. They had pulled one sudden st roke ahead, had got t heir oars in, had run at hwart us, and were holding on t o our gunwale, before we knew what t hey were doing. This caused great confusion on board t he st eam er, and I heard t hem calling t o us, and heard t he order given t o st op t he paddles, and heard t hem st op, but felt her driving down upon us irresist ibly. I n t he sam e m om ent , I saw t he st eersm an of t he galley lay his hand on his prisoner's shoulder, and saw t hat bot h boat s were swinging round wit h t he force of t he t ide, and saw t hat all hands on board t he st eam er were running forward quit e frant ically. St ill in t he sam e m om ent , I saw t he prisoner st art up, lean across his capt or, and pull t he cloak from t he neck of t he shrinking sit t er in t he galley. St ill in t he sam e m om ent , I saw t hat t he face disclosed, was t he face of t he ot her convict of long ago. St ill in t he sam e m om ent , I saw t he face t ilt backward wit h a whit e t error on it t hat I shall never forget , 625
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and heard a great cry on board t he st eam er and a loud splash in t he wat er, and felt t he boat sink from under m e. I t was but for an inst ant t hat I seem ed t o st ruggle wit h a t housand m ill- weirs and a t housand flashes of light ; t hat inst ant past , I was t aken on board t he galley. Herbert was t here, and St art op was t here; but our boat was gone, and t he t wo convict s were gone. What wit h t he cries aboard t he st eam er, and t he furious blowing off of her st eam , and her driving on, and our driving on, I could not at first dist inguish sky from wat er or shore from shore; but , t he crew of t he galley right ed her wit h great speed, and, pulling cert ain swift st rong st rokes ahead, lay upon t heir oars, every m an looking silent ly and eagerly at t he wat er ast ern. Present ly a dark obj ect was seen in it , bearing t owards us on t he t ide. No m an spoke, but t he st eersm an held up his hand, and all soft ly backed wat er, and kept t he boat st raight and t rue before it . As it cam e nearer, I saw it t o be Magwit ch, swim m ing, but not swim m ing freely. He was t aken on board, and inst ant ly m anacled at t he wrist s and ankles. The galley was kept st eady, and t he silent eager look- out at t he wat er was resum ed. But , t he Rot t erdam st eam er now cam e up, and apparent ly not underst anding what had happened, cam e on at speed. By t he t im e she had been hailed and st opped, bot h st eam ers were drift ing away from us, and we were rising and falling in a t roubled wake of wat er. The look- out was kept , long aft er all was st ill again and t he t wo st eam ers were gone; but , everybody knew t hat it was hopeless now. 626
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
At lengt h we gave it up, and pulled under t he shore t owards t he t avern we had lat ely left , where we were received wit h no lit t le surprise. Here, I was able t o get som e com fort s for Magwit ch—Provis no longer—who had received som e very severe inj ury in t he chest and a deep cut in t he head. He t old m e t hat he believed him self t o have gone under t he keel of t he st eam er, and t o have been st ruck on t he head in rising. The inj ury t o his chest ( which rendered his breat hing ext rem ely painful) he t hought he had received against t he side of t he galley. He added t hat he did not pret end t o say what he m ight or m ight not have done t o Com peyson, but , t hat in t he m om ent of his laying his hand on his cloak t o ident ify him , t hat villain had st aggered up and st aggered back, and t hey had bot h gone overboard t oget her; when t he sudden wrenching of him ( Magwit ch) out of our boat , and t he endeavour of his capt or t o keep him in it , had capsized us. He t old m e in a whisper t hat t hey had gone down, fiercely locked in each ot her's arm s, and t hat t here had been a st ruggle under wat er, and t hat he had disengaged him self, st ruck out , and swum away. I never had any reason t o doubt t he exact t rut h of what he t hus t old m e. The officer who st eered t he galley gave t he sam e account of t heir going overboard. When I asked t his officer's perm ission t o change t he prisoner's wet clot hes by purchasing any spare garm ent s I could get at t he public- house, he gave it readily: m erely observing t hat he m ust t ake charge of everyt hing his prisoner had about him . So t he pocket book which had once been in m y hands, passed int o t he officer's. He furt her gave m e leave 627
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o accom pany t he prisoner t o London; but , declined t o accord t hat grace t o m y t wo friends. The Jack at t he Ship was inst ruct ed where t he drowned m an had gone down, and undert ook t o search for t he body in t he places where it was likeliest t o com e ashore. His int erest in it s recovery seem ed t o m e t o be m uch height ened when he heard t hat it had st ockings on. Probably, it t ook about a dozen drowned m en t o fit him out com plet ely; and t hat m ay have been t he reason why t he different art icles of his dress were in various st ages of decay. We rem ained at t he public- house unt il t he t ide t urned, and t hen Magwit ch was carried down t o t he galley and put on board. Herbert and St art op were t o get t o London by land, as soon as t hey could. We had a doleful part ing, and when I t ook m y place by Magwit ch's side, I felt t hat t hat was m y place hencefort h while he lived. For now, m y repugnance t o him had all m elt ed away, and in t he hunt ed wounded shackled creat ure who held m y hand in his, I only saw a m an who had m eant t o be m y benefact or, and who had felt affect ionat ely, grat efully, and generously, t owards m e wit h great const ancy t hrough a series of years. I only saw in him a m uch bet t er m an t han I had been t o Joe. His breat hing becam e m ore difficult and painful as t he night drew on, and oft en he could not repress a groan. I t ried t o rest him on t he arm I could use, in any easy posit ion; but , it was dreadful t o t hink t hat I could not be sorry at heart for his being badly hurt , since it was unquest ionably best t hat he should die. That t here were, st ill living, people enough who were able and willing t o ident ify him , I could not doubt . That 628
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
he would be lenient ly t reat ed, I could not hope. He who had been present ed in t he worst light at his t rial, who had since broken prison and had been t ried again, who had ret urned from t ransport at ion under a life sent ence, and who had occasioned t he deat h of t he m an who was t he cause of his arrest . As we ret urned t owards t he set t ing sun we had yest erday left behind us, and as t he st ream of our hopes seem ed all running back, I t old him how grieved I was t o t hink t hat he had com e hom e for m y sake. “ Dear boy,” he answered, “ I 'm quit e cont ent t o t ake m y chance. I 've seen m y boy, and he can be a gent lem an wit hout m e.” No. I had t hought about t hat , while we had been t here side by side. No. Apart from any inclinat ions of m y own, I underst ood Wem m ick's hint now. I foresaw t hat , being convict ed, his possessions would be forfeit ed t o t he Crown. “ Lookee here, dear boy,” said he “ I t 's best as a gent lem an should not be knowed t o belong t o m e now. Only com e t o see m e as if you com e by chance alonger Wem m ick. Sit where I can see you when I am swore t o, for t he last o’ m any t im es, and I don't ask no m ore.” “ I will never st ir from your side,” said I , “ when I am suffered t o be near you. Please God, I will be as t rue t o you, as you have been t o m e! ” I felt his hand t rem ble as it held m ine, and he t urned his face away as he lay in t he bot t om of t he boat , and I heard t hat old sound in his t hroat —soft ened now, like all t he rest of him . I t was a good t hing t hat he had t ouched t his point , for it 629
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
put int o m y m ind what I m ight not ot herwise have t hought of unt il t oo lat e: That he need never know how his hopes of enriching m e had perished.
630
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 55 He was t aken t o t he Police Court next day, and would have been im m ediat ely com m it t ed for t rial, but t hat it was necessary t o send down for an old officer of t he prison- ship from which he had once escaped, t o speak t o his ident it y. Nobody doubt ed it ; but , Com peyson, who had m eant t o depose t o it , was t um bling on t he t ides, dead, and it happened t hat t here was not at t hat t im e any prison officer in London who could give t he required evidence. I had gone direct t o Mr. Jaggers at his privat e house, on m y arrival over night , t o ret ain his assist ance, and Mr. Jaggers on t he prisoner's behalf would adm it not hing. I t was t he sole resource, for he t old m e t hat t he case m ust be over in five m inut es when t he wit ness was t here, and t hat no power on eart h could prevent it s going against us. I im part ed t o Mr. Jaggers m y design of keeping him in ignorance of t he fat e of his wealt h. Mr. Jaggers was querulous and angry wit h m e for having “ let it slip t hrough m y fingers,” and said we m ust m em orialize by- and- by, and t ry at all event s for som e of it . But , he did not conceal from m e t hat alt hough t here m ight be m any cases in which t he forfeit ure would not be exact ed, t here were no circum st ances in t his case t o m ake it one of t hem . I underst ood t hat , very well. I was not relat ed t o t he out law, or connect ed wit h him by any recognizable t ie; he had put his hand t o no writ ing or set t lem ent in m y favour before his apprehension, and t o do so now would be idle. I had no claim , and I finally resolved, 631
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and ever aft erwards abided by t he resolut ion, t hat m y heart should never be sickened wit h t he hopeless t ask of at t em pt ing t o est ablish one. There appeared t o be reason for supposing t hat t he drowned inform er had hoped for a reward out of t his forfeit ure, and had obt ained som e accurat e knowledge of Magwit ch's affairs. When his body was found, m any m iles from t he scene of his deat h, and so horribly disfigured t hat he was only recognizable by t he cont ent s of his pocket s, not es were st ill legible, folded in a case he carried. Am ong t hese, were t he nam e of a banking- house in New Sout h Wales where a sum of m oney was, and t he designat ion of cert ain lands of considerable value. Bot h t hese heads of inform at ion were in a list t hat Magwit ch, while in prison, gave t o Mr. Jaggers, of t he possessions he supposed I should inherit . His ignorance, poor fellow, at last served him ; he never m ist rust ed but t hat m y inherit ance was quit e safe, wit h Mr. Jaggers's aid. Aft er t hree days’ delay, during which t he crown prosecut ion st ood over for t he product ion of t he wit ness from t he prison- ship, t he wit ness cam e, and com plet ed t he easy case. He was com m it t ed t o t ake his t rial at t he next Sessions, which would com e on in a m ont h. I t was at t his dark t im e of m y life t hat Herbert ret urned hom e one evening, a good deal cast down, and said: “ My dear Handel, I fear I shall soon have t o leave you.” His part ner having prepared m e for t hat , I was less surprised t han he t hought .
632
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ We shall lose a fine opport unit y if I put off going t o Cairo, and I am very m uch afraid I m ust go, Handel, when you m ost need m e.” “ Herbert , I shall always need you, because I shall always love you; but m y need is no great er now, t han at anot her t im e.” “ You will be so lonely.” “ I have not leisure t o t hink of t hat ,” said I . “ You know t hat I am always wit h him t o t he full ext ent of t he t im e allowed, and t hat I should be wit h him all day long, if I could. And when I com e away from him , you know t hat m y t hought s are wit h him .” The dreadful condit ion t o which he was brought , was so appalling t o bot h of us, t hat we could not refer t o it in plainer words. “ My dear fellow,” said Herbert , “ let t he near prospect of our separat ion—for, it is very near—be m y j ust ificat ion for t roubling you about yourself. Have you t hought of your fut ure?” “ No, for I have been afraid t o t hink of any fut ure.” “ But yours cannot be dism issed; indeed, m y dear dear Handel, it m ust not be dism issed. I wish you would ent er on it now, as far as a few friendly words go, wit h m e.” “ I will,” said I . “ I n t his branch house of ours, Handel, we m ust have a—” I saw t hat his delicacy was avoiding t he right word, so I said, “ A clerk.” “ A clerk. And I hope it is not at all unlikely t hat he m ay expand ( as a clerk of your acquaint ance has expanded) int o a 633
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
part ner. Now, Handel—in short , m y dear boy, will you com e t o m e?” There was som et hing charm ingly cordial and engaging in t he m anner in which aft er saying “ Now, Handel,” as if it were t he grave beginning of a port ent ous business exordium , he had suddenly given up t hat t one, st ret ched out his honest hand, and spoken like a schoolboy. “ Clara and I have t alked about it again and again,” Herbert pursued, “ and t he dear lit t le t hing begged m e only t his evening, wit h t ears in her eyes, t o say t o you t hat if you will live wit h us when we com e t oget her, she will do her best t o m ake you happy, and t o convince her husband's friend t hat he is her friend t oo. We should get on so well, Handel! ” I t hanked her heart ily, and I t hanked him heart ily, but said I could not yet m ake sure of j oining him as he so kindly offered. First ly, m y m ind was t oo preoccupied t o be able t o t ake in t he subj ect clearly. Secondly—Yes! Secondly, t here was a vague som et hing lingering in m y t hought s t hat will com e out very near t he end of t his slight narrat ive. “ But if you t hought , Herbert , t hat you could, wit hout doing any inj ury t o your business, leave t he quest ion open for a lit t le while—” “ For any while,” cried Herbert . “ Six m ont hs, a year! ” “ Not so long as t hat ,” said I . “ Two or t hree m ont hs at m ost .” Herbert was highly delight ed when we shook hands on t his arrangem ent , and said he could now t ake courage t o t ell m e t hat he believed he m ust go away at t he end of t he week. “ And Clara?” said I . 634
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ The dear lit t le t hing,” ret urned Herbert , “ holds dut ifully t o her fat her as long as he last s; but he won't last long. Mrs. Whim ple confides t o m e t hat he is cert ainly going.” “ Not t o say an unfeeling t hing,” said I , “ he cannot do bet t er t han go.” “ I am afraid t hat m ust be adm it t ed,” said Herbert : “ and t hen I shall com e back for t he dear lit t le t hing, and t he dear lit t le t hing and I will walk quiet ly int o t he nearest church. Rem em ber! The blessed darling com es of no fam ily, m y dear Handel, and never looked int o t he red book, and hasn't a not ion about her grandpapa. What a fort une for t he son of m y m ot her! ” On t he Sat urday in t hat sam e week, I t ook m y leave of Herbert —full of bright hope, but sad and sorry t o leave m e— as he sat on one of t he seaport m ail coaches. I went int o a coffee- house t o writ e a lit t le not e t o Clara, t elling her he had gone off, sending his love t o her over and over again, and t hen went t o m y lonely hom e—if it deserved t he nam e, for it was now no hom e t o m e, and I had no hom e anywhere. On t he st airs I encount ered Wem m ick, who was com ing down, aft er an unsuccessful applicat ion of his knuckles t o m y door. I had not seen him alone, since t he disast rous issue of t he at t em pt ed flight ; and he had com e, in his privat e and personal capacit y, t o say a few words of explanat ion in reference t o t hat failure. “ The lat e Com peyson,” said Wem m ick, “ had by lit t le and lit t le got at t he bot t om of half of t he regular business now t ransact ed, and it was from t he t alk of som e of his people in t rouble ( som e of his people being always in t rouble) t hat I 635
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
heard what I did. I kept m y ears open, seem ing t o have t hem shut , unt il I heard t hat he was absent , and I t hought t hat would be t he best t im e for m aking t he at t em pt . I can only suppose now, t hat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever m an, habit ually t o deceive his own inst rum ent s. You don't blam e m e, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am sure I t ried t o serve you, wit h all m y heart .” “ I am as sure of t hat , Wem m ick, as you can be, and I t hank you m ost earnest ly for all your int erest and friendship.” “ Thank you, t hank you very m uch. I t 's a bad j ob,” said Wem m ick, scrat ching his head, “ and I assure you I haven't been so cut up for a long t im e. What I look at , is t he sacrifice of so m uch port able propert y. Dear m e! ” “ What I t hink of, Wem m ick, is t he poor owner of t he propert y.” “ Yes, t o be sure,” said Wem m ick. “ Of course t here can be no obj ect ion t o your being sorry for him , and I 'd put down a five- pound not e m yself t o get him out of it . But what I look at , is t his. The lat e Com peyson having been beforehand wit h him in int elligence of his ret urn, and being so det erm ined t o bring him t o book, I do not t hink he could have been saved. Whereas, t he port able propert y cert ainly could have been saved. That 's t he difference bet ween t he propert y and t he owner, don't you see?” I invit ed Wem m ick t o com e up- st airs, and refresh him self wit h a glass of grog before walking t o Walwort h. He accept ed t he invit at ion. While he was drinking his m oderat e allowance, he said, wit h not hing t o lead up t o it , and aft er having appeared rat her fidget y: 636
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ What do you t hink of m y m eaning t o t ake a holiday on Monday, Mr. Pip?” “ Why, I suppose you have not done such a t hing t hese t welve m ont hs.” “ These t welve years, m ore likely,” said Wem m ick. “ Yes. I 'm going t o t ake a holiday. More t han t hat ; I 'm going t o t ake a walk. More t han t hat ; I 'm going t o ask you t o t ake a walk wit h m e.” I was about t o excuse m yself, as being but a bad com panion j ust t hen, when Wem m ick ant icipat ed m e. “ I know your engagem ent s,” said he, “ and I know you are out of sort s, Mr. Pip. But if you could oblige m e, I should t ake it as a kindness. I t ain't a long walk, and it 's an early one. Say it m ight occupy you ( including breakfast on t he walk) from eight t o t welve. Couldn't you st ret ch a point and m anage it ?” He had done so m uch for m e at various t im es, t hat t his was very lit t le t o do for him . I said I could m anage it —would m anage it —and he was so very m uch pleased by m y acquiescence, t hat I was pleased t oo. At his part icular request , I appoint ed t o call for him at t he Cast le at half- past eight on Monday m orning, and so we part ed for t he t im e. Punct ual t o m y appoint m ent , I rang at t he Cast le gat e on t he Monday m orning, and was received by Wem m ick him self: who st ruck m e as looking t ight er t han usual, and having a sleeker hat on. Wit hin, t here were t wo glasses of rum - andm ilk prepared, and t wo biscuit s. The Aged m ust have been st irring wit h t he lark, for, glancing int o t he perspect ive of his bedroom , I observed t hat his bed was em pt y. 637
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
When we had fort ified ourselves wit h t he rum - and- m ilk and biscuit s, and were going out for t he walk wit h t hat t raining preparat ion on us, I was considerably surprised t o see Wem m ick t ake up a fishing- rod, and put it over his shoulder. “ Why, we are not going fishing! ” said I . “ No,” ret urned Wem m ick, “ but I like t o walk wit h one.” I t hought t his odd; however, I said not hing, and we set off. We went t owards Cam berwell Green, and when we were t hereabout s, Wem m ick said suddenly: “ Halloa! Here's a church! ” There was not hing very surprising in t hat ; but a gain, I was rat her surprised, when he said, as if he were anim at ed by a brilliant idea: “ Let 's go in! ” We went in, Wem m ick leaving his fishing- rod in t he porch, and looked all round. I n t he m ean t im e, Wem m ick was diving int o his coat - pocket s, and get t ing som et hing out of paper t here. “ Halloa! ” said he. “ Here's a couple of pair of gloves! Let 's put ‘em on! ” As t he gloves were whit e kid gloves, and as t he post - office was widened t o it s ut m ost ext ent , I now began t o have m y st rong suspicions. They were st rengt hened int o cert aint y when I beheld t he Aged ent er at a side door, escort ing a lady. “ Halloa! ” said Wem m ick. “ Here's Miss Skiffins! Let 's have a wedding.” That discreet dam sel was at t ired as usual, except t hat she was now engaged in subst it ut ing for her green kid gloves, a pair of whit e. The Aged was likewise occupied in preparing a 638
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
sim ilar sacrifice for t he alt ar of Hym en. The old gent lem an, however, experienced so m uch difficult y in get t ing his gloves on, t hat Wem m ick found it necessary t o put him wit h his back against a pillar, and t hen t o get behind t he pillar him self and pull away at t hem , while I for m y part held t he old gent lem an round t he waist , t hat he m ight present and equal and safe resist ance. By dint of t his ingenious Schem e, his gloves were got on t o perfect ion. The clerk and clergym an t hen appearing, we were ranged in order at t hose fat al rails. True t o his not ion of seem ing t o do it all wit hout preparat ion, I heard Wem m ick say t o him self as he t ook som et hing out of his waist coat - pocket before t he service began, “ Halloa! Here's a ring! ” I act ed in t he capacit y of backer, or best - m an, t o t he bridegroom ; while a lit t le lim p pew opener in a soft bonnet like a baby's, m ade a feint of being t he bosom friend of Miss Skiffins. The responsibilit y of giving t he lady away, devolved upon t he Aged, which led t o t he clergym an's being unint ent ionally scandalized, and it happened t hus. When he said, “ Who givet h t his wom an t o be m arried t o t his m an?” t he old gent lem en, not in t he least knowing what point of t he cerem ony we had arrived at , st ood m ost am iably beam ing at t he t en com m andm ent s. Upon which, t he clergym an said again, “ WHO givet h t his wom an t o be m arried t o t his m an?” The old gent lem an being st ill in a st at e of m ost est im able unconsciousness, t he bridegroom cried out in his accust om ed voice, “ Now Aged P. you know; who givet h?” To which t he Aged replied wit h great briskness, before saying t hat he gave, “ All right , John, all right , m y boy! ” And t he clergym an cam e 639
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t o so gloom y a pause upon it , t hat I had doubt s for t he m om ent whet her we should get com plet ely m arried t hat day. I t was com plet ely done, however, and when we were going out of church, Wem m ick t ook t he cover off t he font , and put his whit e gloves in it , and put t he cover on again. Mrs. Wem m ick, m ore heedful of t he fut ure, put her whit e gloves in her pocket and assum ed her green. “ Now, Mr. Pip,” said Wem m ick, t rium phant ly shouldering t he fishing- rod as we cam e out , “ let m e ask you whet her anybody would suppose t his t o be a wedding- part y! ” Breakfast had been ordered at a pleasant lit t le t avern, a m ile or so away upon t he rising ground beyond t he Green, and t here was a bagat elle board in t he room , in case we should desire t o unbend our m inds aft er t he solem nit y. I t was pleasant t o observe t hat Mrs. Wem m ick no longer unwound Wem m ick's arm when it adapt ed it self t o her figure, but sat in a high- backed chair against t he wall, like a violoncello in it s case, and subm it t ed t o be em braced as t hat m elodious inst rum ent m ight have done. We had an excellent breakfast , and when any one declined anyt hing on t able, Wem m ick said, “ Provided by cont ract , you know; don't be afraid of it ! ” I drank t o t he new couple, drank t o t he Aged, drank t o t he Cast le, salut ed t he bride at part ing, and m ade m yself as agreeable as I could. Wem m ick cam e down t o t he door wit h m e, and I again shook hands wit h him , and wished him j oy. “ Thankee! ” said Wem m ick, rubbing his hands. “ She's such a m anager of fowls, you have no idea. You shall have som e eggs, and j udge for yourself. I say, Mr. Pip! ” calling m e back, 640
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and speaking low. “ This is alt oget her a Walwort h sent im ent , please.” “ I underst and. Not t o be m ent ioned in Lit t le Brit ain,” said I. Wem m ick nodded. “ Aft er what you let out t he ot her day, Mr. Jaggers m ay as well not know of it . He m ight t hink m y brain was soft ening, or som et hing of t he kind.”
641
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 56 He lay in prison very ill, during t he whole int erval bet ween his com m it t al for t rial, and t he com ing round of t he Sessions. He had broken t wo ribs, t hey had wounded one of his lungs, and he breat hed wit h great pain and difficult y, which increased daily. I t was a consequence of his hurt , t hat he spoke so low as t o be scarcely audible; t herefore, he spoke very lit t le. But , he was ever ready t o list en t o m e, and it becam e t he first dut y of m y life t o say t o him , and read t o him , what I knew he ought t o hear. Being far t oo ill t o rem ain in t he com m on prison, he was rem oved, aft er t he first day or so, int o t he infirm ary. This gave m e opport unit ies of being wit h him t hat I could not ot herwise have had. And but for his illness he would have been put in irons, for he was regarded as a det erm ined prison- breaker, and I know not what else. Alt hough I saw him every day, it was for only a short t im e; hence, t he regularly recurring spaces of our separat ion were long enough t o record on his face any slight changes t hat occurred in his physical st at e. I do not recollect t hat I once saw any change in it for t he bet t er; he wast ed, and becam e slowly weaker and worse, day by day, from t he day when t he prison door closed upon him . The kind of subm ission or resignat ion t hat he showed, was t hat of a m an who was t ired out . I som et im es derived an im pression, from his m anner or from a whispered word or t wo which escaped him , t hat he pondered over t he quest ion 642
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
whet her he m ight have been a bet t er m an under bet t er circum st ances. But , he never j ust ified him self by a hint t ending t hat way, or t ried t o bend t he past out of it s et ernal shape. I t happened on t wo or t hree occasions in m y presence, t hat his desperat e reput at ion was alluded t o by one or ot her of t he people in at t endance on him . A sm ile crossed his face t hen, and he t urned his eyes on m e wit h a t rust ful look, as if he were confident t hat I had seen som e sm all redeem ing t ouch in him , even so long ago as when I was a lit t le child. As t o all t he rest , he was hum ble and cont rit e, and I never knew him com plain. When t he Sessions cam e round, Mr. Jaggers caused an applicat ion t o be m ade for t he post ponem ent of his t rial unt il t he following Sessions. I t was obviously m ade wit h t he assurance t hat he could not live so long, and was refused. The t rial cam e on at once, and, when he was put t o t he bar, he was seat ed in a chair. No obj ect ion was m ade t o m y get t ing close t o t he dock, on t he out side of it , and holding t he hand t hat he st ret ched fort h t o m e. The t rial was very short and very clear. Such t hings as could be said for him , were said—how he had t aken t o indust rious habit s, and had t hriven lawfully and reput ably. But , not hing could unsay t he fact t hat he had ret urned, and was t here in presence of t he Judge and Jury. I t was im possible t o t ry him for t hat , and do ot herwise t han find him guilt y. At t hat t im e, it was t he cust om ( as I learnt from m y t errible experience of t hat Sessions) t o devot e a concluding 643
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
day t o t he passing of Sent ences, and t o m ake a finishing effect wit h t he Sent ence of Deat h. But for t he indelible pict ure t hat m y rem em brance now holds before m e, I could scarcely believe, even as I writ e t hese words, t hat I saw t wo- andt hirt y m en and wom en put before t he Judge t o receive t hat sent ence t oget her. Forem ost am ong t he t wo- and- t hirt y, was he; seat ed, t hat he m ight get breat h enough t o keep life in him . The whole scene st art s out again in t he vivid colours of t he m om ent , down t o t he drops of April rain on t he windows of t he court , glit t ering in t he rays of April sun. Penned in t he dock, as I again st ood out side it at t he corner wit h his hand in m ine, were t he t wo- and- t hirt y m en and wom en; som e defiant , som e st ricken wit h t error, som e sobbing and weeping, som e covering t heir faces, som e st aring gloom ily about . There had been shrieks from am ong t he wom en convict s, but t hey had been st illed, a hush had succeeded. The sheriffs wit h t heir great chains and nosegays, ot her civic gewgaws and m onst ers, criers, ushers, a great gallery full of people—a large t heat rical audience—looked on, as t he t woand- t hirt y and t he Judge were solem nly confront ed. Then, t he Judge addressed t hem . Am ong t he wret ched creat ures before him whom he m ust single out for special address, was one who alm ost from his infancy had been an offender against t he laws; who, aft er repeat ed im prisonm ent s and punishm ent s, had been at lengt h sent enced t o exile for a t erm of years; and who, under circum st ances of great violence and daring had m ade his escape and been re- sent enced t o exile for life. That m iserable m an would seem for a t im e t o have becom e 644
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
convinced of his errors, when far rem oved from t he scenes of his old offences, and t o have lived a peaceable and honest life. But in a fat al m om ent , yielding t o t hose propensit ies and passions, t he indulgence of which had so long rendered him a scourge t o societ y, he had quit t ed his haven of rest and repent ance, and had com e back t o t he count ry where he was proscribed. Being here present ly denounced, he had for a t im e succeeded in evading t he officers of Just ice, but being at lengt h seized while in t he act of flight , he had resist ed t hem , and had—he best knew whet her by express design, or in t he blindness of his hardihood—caused t he deat h of his denouncer, t o whom his whole career was known. The appoint ed punishm ent for his ret urn t o t he land t hat had cast him out , being Deat h, and his case being t his aggravat ed case, he m ust prepare him self t o Die. The sun was st riking in at t he great windows of t he court , t hrough t he glit t ering drops of rain upon t he glass, and it m ade a broad shaft of light bet ween t he t wo- and- t hirt y and t he Judge, linking bot h t oget her, and perhaps rem inding som e am ong t he audience, how bot h were passing on, wit h absolut e equalit y, t o t he great er Judgm ent t hat knowet h all t hings and cannot err. Rising for a m om ent , a dist inct speck of face in t his way of light , t he prisoner said, “ My Lord, I have received m y sent ence of Deat h from t he Alm ight y, but I bow t o yours,” and sat down again. There was som e hushing, and t he Judge went on wit h what he had t o say t o t he rest . Then, t hey were all form ally doom ed, and som e of t hem were support ed out , and som e of t hem saunt ered out wit h a haggard look of bravery, and a few nodded t o t he gallery, and 645
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t wo or t hree shook hands, and ot hers went out chewing t he fragm ent s of herb t hey had t aken from t he sweet herbs lying about . He went last of all, because of having t o be helped from his chair and t o go very slowly; and he held m y hand while all t he ot hers were rem oved, and while t he audience got up ( put t ing t heir dresses right , as t hey m ight at church or elsewhere) and point ed down at t his crim inal or at t hat , and m ost of all at him and m e. I earnest ly hoped and prayed t hat he m ight die before t he Recorder's Report was m ade, but , in t he dread of his lingering on, I began t hat night t o writ e out a pet it ion t o t he Hom e Secret ary of St at e, set t ing fort h m y knowledge of him , and how it was t hat he had com e back for m y sake. I wrot e it as fervent ly and pat het ically as I could, and when I had finished it and sent it in, I wrot e out ot her pet it ions t o such m en in aut horit y as I hoped were t he m ost m erciful, and drew up one t o t he Crown it self. For several days and night s aft er he was sent enced I t ook no rest except when I fell asleep in m y chair, but was wholly absorbed in t hese appeals. And aft er I had sent t hem in, I could not keep away from t he places where t hey were, but felt as if t hey were m ore hopeful and less desperat e when I was near t hem . I n t his unreasonable rest lessness and pain of m ind, I would roam t he st reet s of an evening, wandering by t hose offices and houses where I had left t he pet it ions. To t he present hour, t he weary west ern st reet s of London on a cold dust y spring night , wit h t heir ranges of st ern shut - up m ansions and t heir long rows of lam ps, are m elancholy t o m e from t his associat ion. 646
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The daily visit s I could m ake him were short ened now, and he was m ore st rict ly kept . Seeing, or fancying, t hat I was suspect ed of an int ent ion of carrying poison t o him , I asked t o be searched before I sat down at his bedside, and t old t he officer who was always t here, t hat I was willing t o do anyt hing t hat would assure him of t he singleness of m y designs. Nobody was hard wit h him , or wit h m e. There was dut y t o be done, and it was done, but not harshly. The officer always gave m e t he assurance t hat he was worse, and som e ot her sick prisoners in t he room , and som e ot her prisoners who at t ended on t hem as sick nurses ( m alefact ors, but not incapable of kindness, God be t hanked! ) , always j oined in t he sam e report . As t he days went on, I not iced m ore and m ore t hat he would lie placidly looking at t he whit e ceiling, wit h an absence of light in his face, unt il som e word of m ine bright ened it for an inst ant , and t hen it would subside again. Som et im es he was alm ost , or quit e, unable t o speak; t hen, he would answer m e wit h slight pressures on m y hand, and I grew t o underst and his m eaning very well. The num ber of t he days had risen t o t en, when I saw a great er change in him t han I had seen yet . His eyes were t urned t owards t he door, and light ed up as I ent ered. “ Dear boy,” he said, as I sat down by his bed: “ I t hought you was lat e. But I knowed you couldn't be t hat .” “ I t is j ust t he t im e,” said I . “ I wait ed for it at t he gat e.” “ You always wait s at t he gat e; don't you, dear boy?” “ Yes. Not t o lose a m om ent of t he t im e.” 647
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Thank'ee dear boy, t hank'ee. God bless you! You've never desert ed m e, dear boy.” I pressed his hand in silence, for I could not forget t hat I had once m eant t o desert him . “ And what 's t he best of all,” he said, “ you've been m ore com fort able alonger m e, since I was under a dark cloud, t han when t he sun shone. That 's best of all.” He lay on his back, breat hing wit h great difficult y. Do what he would, and love m e t hough he did, t he light left his face ever and again, and a film cam e over t he placid look at t he whit e ceiling. “ Are you in m uch pain t o- day?” “ I don't com plain of none, dear boy.” “ You never do com plain.” He had spoken his last words. He sm iled, and I underst ood his t ouch t o m ean t hat he wished t o lift m y hand, and lay it on his breast . I laid it t here, and he sm iled again, and put bot h his hands upon it . The allot t ed t im e ran out , while we were t hus; but , looking round, I found t he governor of t he prison st anding near m e, and he whispered, “ You needn't go yet .” I t hanked him grat efully, and asked, “ Might I speak t o him , if he can hear m e?” The governor st epped aside, and beckoned t he officer away. The change, t hough it was m ade wit hout noise, drew back t he film from t he placid look at t he whit e ceiling, and he looked m ost affect ionat ely at m e. “ Dear Magwit ch, I m ust t ell you, now at last . You underst and what I say?” 648
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
A gent le pressure on m y hand. “ You had a child once, whom you loved and lost .” A st ronger pressure on m y hand. “ She lived and found powerful friends. She is living now. She is a lady and very beaut iful. And I love her! ” Wit h a last faint effort , which would have been powerless but for m y yielding t o it and assist ing it , he raised m y hand t o his lips. Then, he gent ly let it sink upon his breast again, wit h his own hands lying on it . The placid look at t he whit e ceiling cam e back, and passed away, and his head dropped quiet ly on his breast . Mindful, t hen, of what we had read t oget her, I t hought of t he t wo m en who went up int o t he Tem ple t o pray, and I knew t here were no bet t er words t hat I could say beside his bed, t han “ O Lord, be m erciful t o him , a sinner! ”
649
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 57 Now t hat I was left wholly t o m yself, I gave not ice of m y int ent ion t o quit t he cham bers in t he Tem ple as soon as m y t enancy could legally det erm ine, and in t he m eanwhile t o underlet t hem . At once I put bills up in t he windows; for, I was in debt , and had scarcely any m oney, and began t o be seriously alarm ed by t he st at e of m y affairs. I ought rat her t o writ e t hat I should have been alarm ed if I had had energy and concent rat ion enough t o help m e t o t he clear percept ion of any t rut h beyond t he fact t hat I was falling very ill. The lat e st ress upon m e had enabled m e t o put off illness, but not t o put it away; I knew t hat it was com ing on m e now, and I knew very lit t le else, and was even careless as t o t hat . For a day or t wo, I lay on t he sofa, or on t he floor— anywhere, according as I happened t o sink down—wit h a heavy head and aching lim bs, and no purpose, and no power. Then t here cam e one night which appeared of great durat ion, and which t eem ed wit h anxiet y and horror; and when in t he m orning I t ried t o sit up in m y bed and t hink of it , I found I could not do so. Whet her I really had been down in Garden Court in t he dead of t he night , groping about for t he boat t hat I supposed t o be t here; whet her I had t wo or t hree t im es com e t o m yself on t he st aircase wit h great t error, not knowing how I had got out of bed; whet her I had found m yself light ing t he lam p, possessed by t he idea t hat he was com ing up t he st airs, and t hat t he light s were blown out ; whet her I had been 650
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
inexpressibly harassed by t he dist ract ed t alking, laughing, and groaning, of som e one, and had half suspect ed t hose sounds t o be of m y own m aking; whet her t here had been a closed iron furnace in a dark corner of t he room , and a voice had called out over and over again t hat Miss Havisham was consum ing wit hin it ; t hese were t hings t hat I t ried t o set t le wit h m yself and get int o som e order, as I lay t hat m orning on m y bed. But , t he vapour of a lim ekiln would com e bet ween m e and t hem , disordering t hem all, and it was t hrough t he vapour at last t hat I saw t wo m en looking at m e. “ What do you want ?” I asked, st art ing; “ I don't know you.” “ Well, sir,” ret urned one of t hem , bending down and t ouching m e on t he shoulder, “ t his is a m at t er t hat you'll soon arrange, I dare say, but you're arrest ed.” “ What is t he debt ?” “ Hundred and t went y- t hree pound, fift een, six. Jeweller's account , I t hink.” “ What is t o be done?” “ You had bet t er com e t o m y house,” said t he m an. “ I keep a very nice house.” I m ade som e at t em pt t o get up and dress m yself. When I next at t ended t o t hem , t hey were st anding a lit t le off from t he bed, looking at m e. I st ill lay t here. “ You see m y st at e,” said I . “ I would com e wit h you if I could; but indeed I am quit e unable. I f you t ake m e from here, I t hink I shall die by t he way.” Perhaps t hey replied, or argued t he point , or t ried t o encourage m e t o believe t hat I was bet t er t han I t hought . Forasm uch as t hey hang in m y m em ory by only t his one 651
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
slender t hread, I don't know what t hey did, except t hat t hey forbore t o rem ove m e. That I had a fever and was avoided, t hat I suffered great ly, t hat I oft en lost m y reason, t hat t he t im e seem ed int erm inable, t hat I confounded im possible exist ences wit h m y own ident it y; t hat I was a brick in t he house wall, and yet ent reat ing t o be released from t he giddy place where t he builders had set m e; t hat I was a st eel beam of a vast engine, clashing and whirling over a gulf, and yet t hat I im plored in m y own person t o have t he engine st opped, and m y part in it ham m ered off; t hat I passed t hrough t hese phases of disease, I know of m y own rem em brance, and did in som e sort know at t he t im e. That I som et im es st ruggled wit h real people, in t he belief t hat t hey were m urderers, and t hat I would all at once com prehend t hat t hey m eant t o do m e good, and would t hen sink exhaust ed in t heir arm s, and suffer t hem t o lay m e down, I also knew at t he t im e. But , above all, I knew t hat t here was a const ant t endency in all t hese people—who, when I was very ill, would present all kinds of ext raordinary t ransform at ions of t he hum an face, and would be m uch dilat ed in size—above all, I say, I knew t hat t here was an ext raordinary t endency in all t hese people, sooner or lat er t o set t le down int o t he likeness of Joe. Aft er I had t urned t he worst point of m y illness, I began t o not ice t hat while all it s ot her feat ures changed, t his one consist ent feat ure did not change. Whoever cam e about m e, st ill set t led down int o Joe. I opened m y eyes in t he night , and I saw in t he great chair at t he bedside, Joe. I opened m y eyes in t he day, and, sit t ing on t he window- seat , sm oking his pipe 652
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in t he shaded open window, st ill I saw Joe. I asked for cooling drink, and t he dear hand t hat gave it m e was Joe's. I sank back on m y pillow aft er drinking, and t he face t hat looked so hopefully and t enderly upon m e was t he face of Joe. At last , one day, I t ook courage, and said, “ I s it Joe?” And t he dear old hom e- voice answered, “ Which it air, old chap.” “ O Joe, you break m y heart ! Look angry at m e, Joe. St rike m e, Joe. Tell m e of m y ingrat it ude. Don't be so good t o m e! ” For, Joe had act ually laid his head down on t he pillow at m y side and put his arm round m y neck, in his j oy t hat I knew him . “ Which dear old Pip, old chap,” said Joe, “ you and m e was ever friends. And when you're well enough t o go out for a ride—what larks! ” Aft er which, Joe wit hdrew t o t he window, and st ood wit h his back t owards m e, wiping his eyes. And as m y ext rem e weakness prevent ed m e from get t ing up and going t o him , I lay t here, penit ent ly whispering, “ O God bless him ! O God bless t his gent le Christ ian m an! ” Joe's eyes were red when I next found him beside m e; but , I was holding his hand, and we bot h felt happy. “ How long, dear Joe?” “ Which you m eant ersay, Pip, how long have your illness last ed, dear old chap?” “ Yes, Joe.” “ I t 's t he end of May, Pip. To- m orrow is t he first of June.” “ And have you been here all t hat t im e, dear Joe?” 653
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Pret t y nigh, old chap. For, as I says t o Biddy when t he news of your being ill were brought by let t er, which it were brought by t he post and being form erly single he is now m arried t hough underpaid for a deal of walking and shoeleat her, but wealt h were not a obj ect on his part , and m arriage were t he great wish of his hart —” “ I t is so delight ful t o hear you, Joe! But I int errupt you in what you said t o Biddy.” “ Which it were,” said Joe, “ t hat how you m ight be am ongst st rangers, and t hat how you and m e having been ever friends, a wisit at such a m om ent m ight not prove unaccept abobble. And Biddy, her word were, ‘Go t o him , wit hout loss of t im e.’ That ,” said Joe, sum m ing up wit h his j udicial air, “ were t he word of Biddy. ‘Go t o him ,’ Biddy say, ‘wit hout loss of t im e.’ I n short , I shouldn't great ly deceive you,” Joe added, aft er a lit t le grave reflect ion, “ if I represent ed t o you t hat t he word of t hat young wom an were, ‘wit hout a m inut e's loss of t im e.'” There Joe cut him self short , and inform ed m e t hat I was t o be t alked t o in great m oderat ion, and t hat I was t o t ake a lit t le nourishm ent at st at ed frequent t im es, whet her I felt inclined for it or not , and t hat I was t o subm it m yself t o all his orders. So, I kissed his hand, and lay quiet , while he proceeded t o indit e a not e t o Biddy, wit h m y love in it . Evident ly, Biddy had t aught Joe t o writ e. As I lay in bed looking at him , it m ade m e, in m y weak st at e, cry again wit h pleasure t o see t he pride wit h which he set about his let t er. My bedst ead, divest ed of it s curt ains, had been rem oved, wit h m e upon it , int o t he sit t ingroom , as t he airiest and largest , 654
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
and t he carpet had been t aken away, and t he room kept always fresh and wholesom e night and day. At m y own writ ing- t able, pushed int o a corner and cum bered wit h lit t le bot t les, Joe now sat down t o his great work, first choosing a pen from t he pen- t ray as if it were a chest of large t ools, and t ucking up his sleeves as if he were going t o wield a crowbar or sledgeham m er. I t was necessary for Joe t o hold on heavily t o t he t able wit h his left elbow, and t o get his right leg well out behind him , before he could begin, and when he did begin, he m ade every down- st roke so slowly t hat it m ight have been six feet long, while at every up- st roke I could hear his pen splut t ering ext ensively. He had a curious idea t hat t he inkst and was on t he side of him where it was not , and const ant ly dipped his pen int o space, and seem ed quit e sat isfied wit h t he result . Occasionally, he was t ripped up by som e ort hographical st um bling- block, but on t he whole he got on very well indeed, and when he had signed his nam e, and had rem oved a finishing blot from t he paper t o t he crown of his head wit h his t wo forefingers, he got up and hovered about t he t able, t rying t he effect of his perform ance from various point s of view as it lay t here, wit h unbounded sat isfact ion. Not t o m ake Joe uneasy by t alking t oo m uch, even if I had been able t o t alk m uch, I deferred asking him about Miss Havisham unt il next day. He shook his head when I t hen asked him if she had recovered. “ I s she dead, Joe?” “ Why you see, old chap,” said Joe, in a t one of rem onst rance, and by way of get t ing at it by degrees, “ I 655
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wouldn't go so far as t o say t hat , for t hat 's a deal t o say; but she ain't —” “ Living, Joe?” “ That 's nigher where it is,” said Joe; “ she ain't living.” “ Did she linger long, Joe?” “ Art er you was t ook ill, pret t y m uch about what you m ight call ( if you was put t o it ) a week,” said Joe; st ill det erm ined, on m y account , t o com e at everyt hing by degrees. “ Dear Joe, have you heard what becom es of her propert y?” “ Well, old chap,” said Joe, “ it do appear t hat she had set t led t he m ost of it , which I m eant ersay t ied it up, on Miss Est ella. But she had wrot e out a lit t le coddleshell in her own hand a day or t wo afore t he accident , leaving a cool four t housand t o Mr. Mat t hew Pocket . And why, do you suppose, above all t hings, Pip, she left t hat cool four t housand unt o him ? ‘Because of Pip's account of him t he said Mat t hew.’ I am t old by Biddy, t hat air t he writ ing,” said Joe, repeat ing t he legal t urn as if it did him infinit e good, ‘account of him t he said Mat t hew.’ And a cool four t housand, Pip! ” I never discovered from whom Joe derived t he convent ional t em perat ure of t he four t housand pounds, but it appeared t o m ake t he sum of m oney m ore t o him , and he had a m anifest relish in insist ing on it s being cool. This account gave m e great j oy, as it perfect ed t he only good t hing I had done. I asked Joe whet her he had heard if any of t he ot her relat ions had any legacies? “ Miss Sarah,” said Joe, “ she have t went y- five pound perannium fur t o buy pills, on account of being bilious. Miss 656
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Georgiana, she have t went y pound down. Mrs.—what 's t he nam e of t hem wild beast s wit h hum ps, old chap?” “ Cam els?” said I , wondering why he could possibly want t o know. Joe nodded. “ Mrs. Cam els,” by which I present ly underst ood he m eant Cam illa, “ she have five pound fur t o buy rushlight s t o put her in spirit s when she wake up in t he night .” The accuracy of t hese recit als was sufficient ly obvious t o m e, t o give m e great confidence in Joe's inform at ion. “ And now,” said Joe, “ you ain't t hat st rong yet , old chap, t hat you can t ake in m ore nor one addit ional shovel- full t o- day. Old Orlick he's been a bust in'open a dwelling- ouse.” “ Whose?” said I . “ Not , I grant , you, but what his m anners is given t o blust erous,” said Joe, apologet ically; “ st ill, a Englishm an's ouse is his Cast le, and cast les m ust not be bust ed ‘cept when done in war t im e. And wot sum e'er t he failings on his part , he were a corn and seedsm an in his hart .” “ I s it Pum blechook's house t hat has been broken int o, t hen?” “ That 's it , Pip,” said Joe; “ and t hey t ook his t ill, and t hey t ook his cash- box, and t hey drinked his wine, and t hey part ook of his wit t les, and t hey slapped his face, and t hey pulled his nose, and t hey t ied him up t o his bedpust , and t hey giv’ him a dozen, and t hey st uffed his m out h full of flowering annuals t o prewent his crying out . But he knowed Orlick, and Orlick's in t he count y j ail.” 657
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
By t hese approaches we arrived at unrest rict ed conversat ion. I was slow t o gain st rengt h, but I did slowly and surely becom e less weak, and Joe st ayed wit h m e, and I fancied I was lit t le Pip again. For, t he t enderness of Joe was so beaut ifully proport ioned t o m y need, t hat I was like a child in his hands. He would sit and t alk t o m e in t he old confidence, and wit h t he old sim plicit y, and in t he old unassert ive prot ect ing way, so t hat I would half believe t hat all m y life since t he days of t he old kit chen was one of t he m ent al t roubles of t he fever t hat was gone. He did everyt hing for m e except t he household work, for which he had engaged a very decent wom an, aft er paying off t he laundress on his first arrival. “ Which I do assure you, Pip,” he would oft en say, in explanat ion of t hat libert y; “ I found her a t apping t he spare bed, like a cask of beer, and drawing off t he feat hers in a bucket , for sale. Which she would have t apped yourn next , and draw'd it off wit h you a laying on it , and was t hen a carrying away t he coals gradiwally in t he soupt ureen and weget able- dishes, and t he wine and spirit s in your Wellingt on boot s.” We looked forward t o t he day when I should go out for a ride, as we had once looked forward t o t he day of m y apprent iceship. And when t he day cam e, and an open carriage was got int o t he Lane, Joe wrapped m e up, t ook m e in his arm s, carried m e down t o it , and put m e in, as if I were st ill t he sm all helpless creat ure t o whom he had so abundant ly given of t he wealt h of his great nat ure. And Joe got in beside m e, and we drove away t oget her int o t he count ry, where t he rich sum m er growt h was already 658
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
on t he t rees and on t he grass, and sweet sum m er scent s filled all t he air. The day happened t o be Sunday, and when I looked on t he loveliness around m e, and t hought how it had grown and changed, and how t he lit t le wild flowers had been form ing, and t he voices of t he birds had been st rengt hening, by day and by night , under t he sun and under t he st ars, while poor I lay burning and t ossing on m y bed, t he m ere rem em brance of having burned and t ossed t here, cam e like a check upon m y peace. But , when I heard t he Sunday bells, and looked around a lit t le m ore upon t he out spread beaut y, I felt t hat I was not nearly t hankful enough—t hat I was t oo weak yet , t o be even t hat —and I laid m y head on Joe's shoulder, as I had laid it long ago when he had t aken m e t o t he Fair or where not , and it was t oo m uch for m y young senses. More com posure cam e t o m e aft er a while, and we t alked as we used t o t alk, lying on t he grass at t he old Bat t ery. There was no change what ever in Joe. Exact ly what he had been in m y eyes t hen, he was in m y eyes st ill; j ust as sim ply fait hful, and as sim ply right . When we got back again and he lift ed m e out , and carried m e—so easily—across t he court and up t he st airs, I t hought of t hat event ful Christ m as Day when he had carried m e over t he m arshes. We had not yet m ade any allusion t o m y change of fort une, nor did I know how m uch of m y lat e hist ory he was acquaint ed wit h. I was so doubt ful of m yself now, and put so m uch t rust in him , t hat I could not sat isfy m yself whet her I ought t o refer t o it when he did not . 659
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ Have you heard, Joe,” I asked him t hat evening, upon furt her considerat ion, as he sm oked his pipe at t he window, “ who m y pat ron was?” “ I heerd,” ret urned Joe, “ as it were not Miss Havisham , old chap.” “ Did you hear who it was, Joe?” “ Well! I heerd as it were a person what sent t he person what giv'you t he bank- not es at t he Jolly Bargem en, Pip.” “ So it was.” “ Ast onishing! ” said Joe, in t he placidest way. “ Did you hear t hat he was dead, Joe?” I present ly asked, wit h increasing diffidence. “ Which? Him as sent t he bank- not es, Pip?” “ Yes.” “ I t hink,” said Joe, aft er m edit at ing a long t im e, and looking rat her evasively at t he window- seat , “ as I did hear t ell t hat how he were som et hing or anot her in a general way in t hat direct ion.” “ Did you hear anyt hing of his circum st ances, Joe?” “ Not part ickler, Pip.” “ I f you would like t o hear, Joe—” I was beginning, when Joe got up and cam e t o m y sofa. “ Lookee here, old chap,” said Joe, bending over m e. “ Ever t he best of friends; ain't us, Pip?” I was asham ed t o answer him . “ Wery good, t hen,” said Joe, as if I had answered; “ t hat 's all right , t hat 's agreed upon. Then why go int o subj ect s, old chap, which as bet wixt t wo sech m ust be for ever onnecessary? There's subj ect s enough as bet wixt t wo sech, 660
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
wit hout onnecessary ones. Lord! To t hink of your poor sist er and her Ram pages! And don't you rem em ber Tickler?” “ I do indeed, Joe.” “ Lookee here, old chap,” said Joe. “ I done what I could t o keep you and Tickler in sunders, but m y power were not always fully equal t o m y inclinat ions. For when your poor sist er had a m ind t o drop int o you, it were not so m uch,” said Joe, in his favourit e argum ent at ive way, “ t hat she dropped int o m e t oo, if I put m yself in opposit ion t o her but t hat she dropped int o you always heavier for it . I not iced t hat . I t ain't a grab at a m an's whisker, not yet a shake or t wo of a m an ( t o which your sist er was quit e welcom e) , t hat ‘ud put a m an off from get t ing a lit t le child out of punishm ent . But when t hat lit t le child is dropped int o, heavier, for t hat grab of whisker or shaking, t hen t hat m an nat erally up and says t o him self, ‘Where is t he good as you are a- doing? I grant you I see t he ‘arm ,’ says t he m an, ‘but I don't see t he good. I call upon you, sir, t herefore, t o pint out t he good.'” “ The m an says?” I observed, as Joe wait ed for m e t o speak. “ The m an says,” Joe assent ed. “ I s he right , t hat m an?” “ Dear Joe, he is always right .” “ Well, old chap,” said Joe, “ t hen abide by your words. I f he's always right ( which in general he's m ore likely wrong) , he's right when he says t his: —Supposing ever you kep any lit t le m at t er t o yourself, when you was a lit t le child, you kep it m ost ly because you know'd as J. Gargery's power t o part you and Tickler in sunders, were not fully equal t o his inclinat ions. Therefore, t hink no m ore of it as bet wixt t wo sech, and do not 661
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
let us pass rem arks upon onnecessary subj ect s. Biddy giv’ herself a deal o’ t rouble wit h m e afore I left ( for I am alm ost awful dull) , as I should view it in t his light , and, viewing it in t his light , as I should so put it . Bot h of which,” said Joe, quit e charm ed wit h his logical arrangem ent , “ being done, now t his t o you a t rue friend, say. Nam ely. You m ust n't go a- overdoing on it , but you m ust have your supper and your wineand- wat er, and you m ust be put bet wixt t he sheet s.” The delicacy wit h which Joe dism issed t his t hem e, and t he sweet t act and kindness wit h which Biddy—who wit h her wom an's wit had found m e out so soon—had prepared him for it , m ade a deep im pression on m y m ind. But whet her Joe knew how poor I was, and how m y great expect at ions had all dissolved, like our own m arsh m ist s before t he sun, I could not underst and. Anot her t hing in Joe t hat I could not underst and when it first began t o develop it self, but which I soon arrived at a sorrowful com prehension of, was t his: As I becam e st ronger and bet t er, Joe becam e a lit t le less easy wit h m e. I n m y weakness and ent ire dependence on him , t he dear fellow had fallen int o t he old t one, and called m e by t he old nam es, t he dear “ old Pip, old chap,” t hat now were m usic in m y ears. I t oo had fallen int o t he old ways, only happy and t hankful t hat he let m e. But , im percept ibly, t hough I held by t hem fast , Joe's hold upon t hem began t o slacken; and whereas I wondered at t his, at first , I soon began t o underst and t hat t he cause of it was in m e, and t hat t he fault of it was all m ine. Ah! Had I given Joe no reason t o doubt m y const ancy, and t o t hink t hat in prosperit y I should grow cold t o him and cast 662
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
him off? Had I given Joe's innocent heart no cause t o feel inst inct ively t hat as I got st ronger, his hold upon m e would be weaker, and t hat he had bet t er loosen it in t im e and let m e go, before I plucked m yself away? I t was on t he t hird or fourt h occasion of m y going out walking in t he Tem ple Gardens leaning on Joe's arm , t hat I saw t his change in him very plainly. We had been sit t ing in t he bright warm sunlight , looking at t he river, and I chanced t o say as we got up: “ See, Joe! I can walk quit e st rongly. Now, you shall see m e walk back by m yself.” “ Which do not over- do it , Pip,” said Joe; “ but I shall be happy fur t o see you able, sir.” The last word grat ed on m e; but how could I rem onst rat e! I walked no furt her t han t he gat e of t he gardens, and t hen pret ended t o be weaker t han I was, and asked Joe for his arm . Joe gave it m e, but was t hought ful. I , for m y part , was t hought ful t oo; for, how best t o check t his growing change in Joe, was a great perplexit y t o m y rem orseful t hought s. That I was asham ed t o t ell him exact ly how I was placed, and what I had com e down t o, I do not seek t o conceal; but , I hope m y reluct ance was not quit e an unwort hy one. He would want t o help m e out of his lit t le savings, I knew, and I knew t hat he ought not t o help m e, and t hat I m ust not suffer him t o do it . I t was a t hought ful evening wit h bot h of us. But , before we went t o bed, I had resolved t hat I would wait over t o- m orrow, t o- m orrow being Sunday, and would begin m y new course wit h t he new week. On Monday m orning I would speak t o Joe 663
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
about t his change, I would lay aside t his last vest ige of reserve, I would t ell him what I had in m y t hought s ( t hat Secondly, not yet arrived at ) , and why I had not decided t o go out t o Herbert , and t hen t he change would be conquered for ever. As I cleared, Joe cleared, and it seem ed as t hough he had sym pat het ically arrived at a resolut ion t oo. We had a quiet day on t he Sunday, and we rode out int o t he count ry, and t hen walked in t he fields. “ I feel t hankful t hat I have been ill, Joe,” I said. “ Dear old Pip, old chap, you're a'm ost com e round, sir.” “ I t has been a m em orable t im e for m e, Joe.” “ Likeways for m yself, sir,” Joe ret urned. “ We have had a t im e t oget her, Joe, t hat I can never forget . There were days once, I know, t hat I did for a while forget ; but I never shall forget t hese.” “ Pip,” said Joe, appearing a lit t le hurried and t roubled, “ t here has been larks, And, dear sir, what have been bet wixt us—have been.” At night , when I had gone t o bed, Joe cam e int o m y room , as he had done all t hrough m y recovery. He asked m e if I felt sure t hat I was as well as in t he m orning? “ Yes, dear Joe, quit e.” “ And are always a- get t ing st ronger, old chap?” “ Yes, dear Joe, st eadily.” Joe pat t ed t he coverlet on m y shoulder wit h his great good hand, and said, in what I t hought a husky voice, “ Good night ! ” When I got up in t he m orning, refreshed and st ronger yet , I was full of m y resolut ion t o t ell Joe all, wit hout delay. I 664
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
would t ell him before breakfast . I would dress at once and go t o his room and surprise him ; for, it was t he first day I had been up early. I went t o his room , and he was not t here. Not only was he not t here, but his box was gone. I hurried t hen t o t he breakfast - t able, and on it found a let t er. These were it s brief cont ent s. “ Not wishful t o int rude I have depart ured fur you are well again dear Pip and will do bet t er wit hout JO. “ P.S. Ever t he best of friends.” Enclosed in t he let t er, was a receipt for t he debt and cost s on which I had been arrest ed. Down t o t hat m om ent I had vainly supposed t hat m y credit or had wit hdrawn or suspended proceedings unt il I should be quit e recovered. I had never dream ed of Joe's having paid t he m oney; but , Joe had paid it , and t he receipt was in his nam e. What rem ained for m e now, but t o follow him t o t he dear old forge, and t here t o have out m y disclosure t o him , and m y penit ent rem onst rance wit h him , and t here t o relieve m y m ind and heart of t hat reserved Secondly, which had begun as a vague som et hing lingering in m y t hought s, and had form ed int o a set t led purpose? The purpose was, t hat I would go t o Biddy, t hat I would show her how hum bled and repent ant I cam e back, t hat I would t ell her how I had lost all I once hoped for, t hat I would rem ind her of our old confidences in m y first unhappy t im e. Then, I would say t o her, “ Biddy, I t hink you once liked m e very well, when m y errant heart , even while it st rayed away from you, was quiet er and bet t er wit h you t han it ever has been since. I f you can like m e only half as well once m ore, if 665
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
you can t ake m e wit h all m y fault s and disappoint m ent s on m y head, if you can receive m e like a forgiven child ( and indeed I am as sorry, Biddy, and have as m uch need of a hushing voice and a soot hing hand) , I hope I am a lit t le wort hier of you t hat I was—not m uch, but a lit t le. And, Biddy, it shall rest wit h you t o say whet her I shall work at t he forge wit h Joe, or whet her I shall t ry for any different occupat ion down in t his count ry, or whet her we shall go away t o a dist ant place where an opport unit y await s m e, which I set aside when it was offered, unt il I knew your answer. And now, dear Biddy, if you can t ell m e t hat you will go t hrough t he world wit h m e, you will surely m ake it a bet t er world for m e, and m e a bet t er m an for it , and I will t ry hard t o m ake it a bet t er world for you.” Such was m y purpose. Aft er t hree days m ore of recovery, I went down t o t he old place, t o put it in execut ion; and how I sped in it , is all I have left t o t ell.
666
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 58 The t idings of m y high fort unes having had a heavy fall, had got down t o m y nat ive place and it s neighbourhood, before I got t here. I found t he Blue Boar in possession of t he int elligence, and I found t hat it m ade a great change in t he Boar's dem eanour. Whereas t he Boar had cult ivat ed m y good opinion wit h warm assiduit y when I was com ing int o propert y, t he Boar was exceedingly cool on t he subj ect now t hat I was going out of propert y. I t was evening when I arrived, m uch fat igued by t he j ourney I had so oft en m ade so easily. The Boar could not put m e int o m y usual bedroom , which was engaged ( probably by som e one who had expect at ions) , and could only assign m e a very indifferent cham ber am ong t he pigeons and post - chaises up t he yard. But , I had as sound a sleep in t hat lodging as in t he m ost superior accom m odat ion t he Boar could have given m e, and t he qualit y of m y dream s was about t he sam e as in t he best bedroom . Early in t he m orning while m y breakfast was get t ing ready, I st rolled round by Sat is House. There were print ed bills on t he gat e, and on bit s of carpet hanging out of t he windows, announcing a sale by auct ion of t he Household Furnit ure and Effect s, next week. The House it self was t o be sold as old building m at erials and pulled down. LOT 1 was m arked in whit ewashed knock- knee let t ers on t he brew house; LOT 2 on t hat part of t he m ain building which had been so long shut up. Ot her lot s were m arked off on ot her part s of t he 667
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
st ruct ure, and t he ivy had been t orn down t o m ake room for t he inscript ions, and m uch of it t railed low in t he dust and was wit hered already. St epping in for a m om ent at t he open gat e and looking around m e wit h t he uncom fort able air of a st ranger who had no business t here, I saw t he auct ioneer's clerk walking on t he casks and t elling t hem off for t he inform at ion of a cat alogue com piler, pen in hand, who m ade a t em porary desk of t he wheeled chair I had so oft en pushed along t o t he t une of Old Clem . When I got back t o m y breakfast in t he Boar's coffeeroom , I found Mr. Pum blechook conversing wit h t he landlord. Mr. Pum blechook ( not im proved in appearance by his lat e noct urnal advent ure) was wait ing for m e, and addressed m e in t he following t erm s. “ Young m an, I am sorry t o see you brought low. But what else could be expect ed! What else could be expect ed! ” As he ext ended his hand wit h a m agnificent ly forgiving air, and as I was broken by illness and unfit t o quarrel, I t ook it . “ William ,” said Mr. Pum blechook t o t he wait er, “ put a m uffin on t able. And has it com e t o t his! Has it com e t o t his! ” I frowningly sat down t o m y breakfast . Mr. Pum blechook st ood over m e and poured out m y t ea—before I could t ouch t he t eapot —wit h t he air of a benefact or who was resolved t o be t rue t o t he last . “ William ,” said Mr. Pum blechook, m ournfully, “ put t he salt on. I n happier t im es,” addressing m e, “ I t hink you t ook sugar. And did you t ake m ilk? You did. Sugar and m ilk. William , bring a wat ercress.” “ Thank you,” said I , short ly, “ but I don't eat wat ercresses.” 668
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ You don't eat ‘em ,” ret urned Mr. Pum blechook, sighing and nodding his head several t im es, as if he m ight have expect ed t hat , and as if abst inence from wat ercresses were consist ent wit h m y downfall. “ True. The sim ple fruit s of t he eart h. No. You needn't bring any, William .” I went on wit h m y breakfast , and Mr. Pum blechook cont inued t o st and over m e, st aring fishily and breat hing noisily, as he always did. “ Lit t le m ore t han skin and bone! ” m used Mr. Pum blechook, aloud. “ And yet when he went from here ( I m ay say wit h m y blessing) , and I spread afore him m y hum ble st ore, like t he Bee, he was as plum p as a Peach! ” This rem inded m e of t he wonderful difference bet ween t he servile m anner in which he had offered his hand in m y new prosperit y, saying, “ May I ?” and t he ost ent at ious clem ency wit h which he had j ust now exhibit ed t he sam e fat five fingers. “ Hah! ” he went on, handing m e t he bread- and- but t er. “ And air you a- going t o Joseph?” “ I n heaven's nam e,” said I , firing in spit e of m yself, “ what does it m at t er t o you where I am going? Leave t hat t eapot alone.” I t was t he worst course I could have t aken, because it gave Pum blechook t he opport unit y he want ed. “ Yes, young m an,” said he, releasing t he handle of t he art icle in quest ion, ret iring a st ep or t wo from m y t able, and speaking for t he behoof of t he landlord and wait er at t he door, “ I will leave t hat t eapot alone. You are right , young m an. For once, you are right . I forgit m yself when I t ake such 669
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
an int erest in your breakfast , as t o wish your fram e, exhaust ed by t he debilit at ing effect s of prodigygalit y, t o be st im ilat ed by t he ‘olesom e nourishm ent of your forefat hers. And yet ,” said Pum blechook, t urning t o t he landlord and wait er, and point ing m e out at arm 's lengt h, “ t his is him as I ever sport ed wit h in his days of happy infancy! Tell m e not it cannot be; I t ell you t his is him ! ” A low m urm ur from t he t wo replied. The wait er appeared t o be part icularly affect ed. “ This is him ,” said Pum blechook, “ as I have rode in m y shaycart . This is him as I have seen brought up by hand. This is him unt oe t he sist er of which I was uncle by m arriage, as her nam e was Georgiana M'ria from her own m ot her, let him deny it if he can! ” The wait er seem ed convinced t hat I could not deny it , and t hat it gave t he case a black look. “ Young m an,” said Pum blechook, screwing his head at m e in t he old fashion, “ you air a- going t o Joseph. What does it m at t er t o m e, you ask m e, where you air a- going? I say t o you, Sir, you air a- going t o Joseph.” The wait er coughed, as if he m odest ly invit ed m e t o get over t hat . “ Now,” said Pum blechook, and all t his wit h a m ost exasperat ing air of saying in t he cause of virt ue what was perfect ly convincing and conclusive, “ I will t ell you what t o say t o Joseph. Here is Squires of t he Boar present , known and respect ed in t his t own, and here is William , which his fat her's nam e was Pot kins if I do not deceive m yself.” “ You do not , sir,” said William . 670
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ I n t heir presence,” pursued Pum blechook, “ I will t ell you, young m an, what t o say t o Joseph. Says you, “ Joseph, I have t his day seen m y earliest benefact or and t he founder of m y fort un's. I will nam e no nam es, Joseph, but so t hey are pleased t o call him up- t own, and I have seen t hat m an.” “ I swear I don't see him here,” said I . “ Say t hat likewise,” ret ort ed Pum blechook. “ Say you said t hat , and even Joseph will probably bet ray surprise.” “ There you quit e m ist ake him ,” said I . “ I know bet t er.” “ Says you,” Pum blechook went on, “ ‘Joseph, I have seen t hat m an, and t hat m an bears you no m alice and bears m e no m alice. He knows your charact er, Joseph, and is well acquaint ed wit h your pig- headedness and ignorance; and he knows m y charact er, Joseph, and he knows m y want of grat it oode. Yes, Joseph,’ says you,” here Pum blechook shook his head and hand at m e, “ ‘he knows m y t ot al deficiency of com m on hum an grat it oode. He knows it , Joseph, as none can. You do not know it , Joseph, having no call t o know it , but t hat m an do.'” Windy donkey as he was, it really am azed m e t hat he could have t he face t o t alk t hus t o m ine. “ Says you, ‘Joseph, he gave m e a lit t le m essage, which I will now repeat . I t was, t hat in m y being brought low, he saw t he finger of Providence. He knowed t hat finger when he saw it , Joseph, and he saw it plain. I t pint ed out t his writ ing, Joseph. Reward of ingrat it oode t o his earliest benefact or, and founder of fort un's. But t hat m an said he did not repent of what he had done, Joseph. Not at all. I t was right t o do it , it 671
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
was kind t o do it , it was benevolent t o do it , and he would do it again.'” “ I t 's pit y,” said I , scornfully, as I finished m y int errupt ed breakfast , “ t hat t he m an did not say what he had done and would do again.” “ Squires of t he Boar! ” Pum blechook was now addressing t he landlord, “ and William ! I have no obj ect ions t o your m ent ioning, eit her up- t own or down- t own, if such should be your wishes, t hat it was right t o do it , kind t o do it , benevolent t o do it , and t hat I would do it again.” Wit h t hose words t he I m post or shook t hem bot h by t he hand, wit h an air, and left t he house; leaving m e m uch m ore ast onished t han delight ed by t he virt ues of t hat sam e indefinit e “ it .” “ I was not long aft er him in leaving t he house t oo, and when I went down t he High- st reet I saw him holding fort h ( no doubt t o t he sam e effect ) at his shop door t o a select group, who honoured m e wit h very unfavourable glances as I passed on t he opposit e side of t he way. But , it was only t he pleasant er t o t urn t o Biddy and t o Joe, whose great forbearance shone m ore bright ly t han before, if t hat could be, cont rast ed wit h t his brazen pret ender. I went t owards t hem slowly, for m y lim bs were weak, but wit h a sense of increasing relief as I drew nearer t o t hem , and a sense of leaving arrogance and unt rut hfulness furt her and furt her behind. The June weat her was delicious. The sky was blue, t he larks were soaring high over t he green corn, I t hought all t hat count ry- side m ore beaut iful and peaceful by far t han I had ever known it t o be yet . Many pleasant pict ures of t he life 672
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
t hat I would lead t here, and of t he change for t he bet t er t hat would com e over m y charact er when I had a guiding spirit at m y side whose sim ple fait h and clear hom e- wisdom I had proved, beguiled m y way. They awakened a t ender em ot ion in m e; for, m y heart was soft ened by m y ret urn, and such a change had com e t o pass, t hat I felt like one who was t oiling hom e barefoot from dist ant t ravel, and whose wanderings had last ed m any years. The schoolhouse where Biddy was m ist ress, I had never seen; but , t he lit t le roundabout lane by which I ent ered t he village for quiet ness’ sake, t ook m e past it . I was disappoint ed t o find t hat t he day was a holiday; no children were t here, and Biddy's house was closed. Som e hopeful not ion of seeing her busily engaged in her daily dut ies, before she saw m e, had been in m y m ind and was defeat ed. But , t he forge was a very short dist ance off, and I went t owards it under t he sweet green lim es, list ening for t he clink of Joe's ham m er. Long aft er I ought t o have heard it , and long aft er I had fancied I heard it and found it but a fancy, all was st ill. The lim es were t here, and t he whit e t horns were t here, and t he chest nut - t rees were t here, and t heir leaves rust led harm oniously when I st opped t o list en; but , t he clink of Joe's ham m er was not in t he m idsum m er wind. Alm ost fearing, wit hout knowing why, t o com e in view of t he forge, I saw it at last , and saw t hat it was closed. No gleam of fire, no glit t ering shower of sparks, no roar of bellows; all shut up, and st ill. But , t he house was not desert ed, and t he best parlour seem ed t o be in use, for t here were whit e curt ains flut t ering 673
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
in it s window, and t he window was open and gay wit h flowers. I went soft ly t owards it , m eaning t o peep over t he flowers, when Joe and Biddy st ood before m e, arm in arm . At first Biddy gave a cry, as if she t hought it was m y apparit ion, but in anot her m om ent she was in m y em brace. I wept t o see her, and she wept t o see m e; I , because she looked so fresh and pleasant ; she, because I looked so worn and whit e. “ But dear Biddy, how sm art you are! ” “ Yes, dear Pip.” “ And Joe, how sm art you are! ” “ Yes, dear old Pip, old chap.” I looked at bot h of t hem , from one t o t he ot her, and t hen— “ I t 's m y wedding- day,” cried Biddy, in a burst of happiness, “ and I am m arried t o Joe! ” They had t aken m e int o t he kit chen, and I had laid m y head down on t he old deal t able. Biddy held one of m y hands t o her lips, and Joe's rest oring t ouch was on m y shoulder. “ Which he warn't st rong enough, m y dear, fur t o be surprised,” said Joe. And Biddy said, “ I ought t o have t hought of it , dear Joe, but I was t oo happy.” They were bot h so overj oyed t o see m e, so proud t o see m e, so t ouched by m y com ing t o t hem , so delight ed t hat I should have com e by accident t o m ake t heir day com plet e! My first t hought was one of great t hankfulness t hat I had never breat hed t his last baffled hope t o Joe. How oft en, while he was wit h m e in m y illness, had it risen t o m y lips. How 674
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
irrevocable would have been his knowledge of it , if he had rem ained wit h m e but anot her hour! “ Dear Biddy,” said I , “ you have t he best husband in t he whole world, and if you could have seen him by m y bed you would have—But no, you couldn't love him bet t er t han you do.” “ No, I couldn't indeed,” said Biddy. “ And, dear Joe, you have t he best wife in t he whole world, and she will m ake you as happy as even you deserve t o be, you dear, good, noble Joe! ” Joe looked at m e wit h a quivering lip, and fairly put his sleeve before his eyes. “ And Joe and Biddy bot h, as you have been t o church t oday, and are in charit y and love wit h all m ankind, receive m y hum ble t hanks for all you have done for m e and all I have so ill repaid! And when I say t hat I am going away wit hin t he hour, for I am soon going abroad, and t hat I shall never rest unt il I have worked for t he m oney wit h which you have kept m e out of prison, and have sent it t o you, don't t hink, dear Joe and Biddy, t hat if I could repay it a t housand t im es over, I suppose I could cancel a fart hing of t he debt I owe you, or t hat I would do so if I could! ” They were bot h m elt ed by t hese words, and bot h ent reat ed m e t o say no m ore. “ But I m ust say m ore. Dear Joe, I hope you will have children t o love, and t hat som e lit t le fellow will sit in t his chim ney corner of a wint er night , who m ay rem ind you of anot her lit t le fellow gone out of it for ever. Don't t ell him , Joe, t hat I was t hankless; don't t ell him , Biddy, t hat I was 675
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
ungenerous and unj ust ; only t ell him t hat I honoured you bot h, because you were bot h so good and t rue, and t hat , as your child, I said it would be nat ural t o him t o grow up a m uch bet t er m an t han I did.” “ I ain't a- going,” said Joe, from behind his sleeve, “ t o t ell him not hink o’ t hat nat ur, Pip. Nor Biddy ain't . Nor yet no one ain't .” “ And now, t hough I know you have already done it in your own kind heart s, pray t ell m e, bot h, t hat you forgive m e! Pray let m e hear you say t he words, t hat I m ay carry t he sound of t hem away wit h m e, and t hen I shall be able t o believe t hat you can t rust m e, and t hink bet t er of m e, in t he t im e t o com e! ” “ O dear old Pip, old chap,” said Joe. “ God knows as I forgive you, if I have anyt hink t o forgive! ” “ Am en! And God knows I do! ” echoed Biddy. Now let m e go up and look at m y old lit t le room , and rest t here a few m inut es by m yself, and t hen when I have eat en and drunk wit h you, go wit h m e as far as t he finger- post , dear Joe and Biddy, before we say good- bye! ” I sold all I had, and put aside as m uch as I could, for a com posit ion wit h m y credit ors—who gave m e am ple t im e t o pay t hem in full—and I went out and j oined Herbert . Wit hin a m ont h, I had quit t ed England, and wit hin t wo m ont hs I was clerk t o Clarriker and Co., and wit hin four m ont hs I assum ed m y first undivided responsibilit y. For, t he beam across t he parlour ceiling at Mill Pond Bank, had t hen ceased t o t rem ble under old Bill Barley's growls and was at peace, and Herbert 676
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
had gone away t o m arry Clara, and I was left in sole charge of t he East ern Branch unt il he brought her back. Many a year went round, before I was a part ner in t he House; but , I lived happily wit h Herbert and his wife, and lived frugally, and paid m y debt s, and m aint ained a const ant correspondence wit h Biddy and Joe. I t was not unt il I becam e t hird in t he Firm , t hat Clarriker bet rayed m e t o Herbert ; but , he t hen declared t hat t he secret of Herbert 's part nership had been long enough upon his conscience, and he m ust t ell it . So, he t old it , and Herbert was as m uch m oved as am azed, and t he dear fellow and I were not t he worse friends for t he long concealm ent . I m ust not leave it t o be supposed t hat we were ever a great house, or t hat we m ade m int s of m oney. We were not in a grand way of business, but we had a good nam e, and worked for our profit s, and did very well. We owed so m uch t o Herbert 's ever cheerful indust ry and readiness, t hat I oft en wondered how I had conceived t hat old idea of his inapt it ude, unt il I was one day enlight ened by t he reflect ion, t hat perhaps t he inapt it ude had never been in him at all, but had been in m e.
677
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Chapt er 59 For eleven years, I had not seen Joe nor Biddy wit h m y bodily eyes- t hough t hey had bot h been oft en before m y fancy in t he East - when, upon an evening in Decem ber, an hour or t wo aft er dark, I laid m y hand soft ly on t he lat ch of t he old kit chen door. I t ouched it so soft ly t hat I was not heard, and looked in unseen. There, sm oking his pipe in t he old place by t he kit chen firelight , as hale and as st rong as ever t hough a lit t le grey, sat Joe; and t here, fenced int o t he corner wit h Joe's leg, and sit t ing on m y own lit t le st ool looking at t he fire, was—I again! “ We giv’ him t he nam e of Pip for your sake, dear old chap,” said Joe, delight ed when I t ook anot her st ool by t he child's side ( but I did not rum ple his hair) , “ and we hoped he m ight grow a lit t le bit like you, and we t hink he do.” I t hought so t oo, and I t ook him out for a walk next m orning, and we t alked im m ensely, underst anding one anot her t o perfect ion. And I t ook him down t o t he churchyard, and set him on a cert ain t om bst one t here, and he showed m e from t hat elevat ion which st one was sacred t o t he m em ory of Philip Pirrip, lat e of t his Parish, and Also Georgiana, Wife of t he Above. “ Biddy,” said I , when I t alked wit h her aft er dinner, as her lit t le girl lay sleeping in her lap, “ you m ust give Pip t o m e, one of t hese days; or lend him , at all event s.” “ No, no,” said Biddy, gent ly. “ You m ust m arry.” 678
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
“ So Herbert and Clara say, but I don't t hink I shall, Biddy. I have so set t led down in t heir hom e, t hat it 's not at all likely. I am already quit e an old bachelor.” Biddy looked down at her child, and put it s lit t le hand t o her lips, and t hen put t he good m at ronly hand wit h which she had t ouched it , int o m ine. There was som et hing in t he act ion and in t he light pressure of Biddy's wedding- ring, t hat had a very pret t y eloquence in it . “ Dear Pip,” said Biddy, “ you are sure you don't fret for her?” “ O no—I t hink not , Biddy.” “ Tell m e as an old, old friend. Have you quit e forgot t en her? “ My dear Biddy, I have forgot t en not hing in m y life t hat ever had a forem ost place t here, and lit t le t hat ever had any place t here. But t hat poor dream , as I once used t o call it , has all gone by, Biddy, all gone by! ” Nevert heless, I knew while I said t hose words, t hat I secret ly int ended t o revisit t he sit e of t he old house t hat evening, alone, for her sake. Yes even so. For Est ella's sake. I had heard of her as leading a m ost unhappy life, and as being separat ed from her husband, who had used her wit h great cruelt y, and who had becom e quit e renowned as a com pound of pride, avarice, brut alit y, and m eanness. And I had heard of t he deat h of her husband, from an accident consequent on his ill- t reat m ent of a horse. This release had befallen her som e t wo years before; for anyt hing I knew, she was m arried again. 679
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
The early dinner- hour at Joe's, left m e abundance of t im e, wit hout hurrying m y t alk wit h Biddy, t o walk over t o t he old spot before dark. But , what wit h loit ering on t he way, t o look at old obj ect s and t o t hink of old t im es, t he day had quit e declined when I cam e t o t he place. There was no house now, no brewery, no building what ever left , but t he wall of t he old garden. The cleared space had been enclosed wit h a rough fence, and, looking over it , I saw t hat som e of t he old ivy had st ruck root anew, and was growing green on low quiet m ounds of ruin. A gat e in t he fence st anding aj ar, I pushed it open, and went in. A cold silvery m ist had veiled t he aft ernoon, and t he m oon was not yet up t o scat t er it . But , t he st ars were shining beyond t he m ist , and t he m oon was com ing, and t he evening was not dark. I could t race out where every part of t he old house had been, and where t he brewery had been, and where t he gat e, and where t he casks. I had done so, and was looking along t he desolat e gardenwalk, when I beheld a solit ary figure in it . The figure showed it self aware of m e, as I advanced. I t had been m oving t owards m e, but it st ood st ill. As I drew nearer, I saw it t o be t he figure of a wom an. As I drew nearer yet , it was about t o t urn away, when it st opped, and let m e com e up wit h it . Then, it falt ered as if m uch surprised, and ut t ered m y nam e, and I cried out : “ Est ella! ” “ I am great ly changed. I wonder you know m e.” The freshness of her beaut y was indeed gone, but it s indescribable m aj est y and it s indescribable charm rem ained. 680
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
Those at t ract ions in it , I had seen before; what I had never seen before, was t he saddened soft ened light of t he once proud eyes; what I had never felt before, was t he friendly t ouch of t he once insensible hand. We sat down on a bench t hat was near, and I said, “ Aft er so m any years, it is st range t hat we should t hus m eet again, Est ella, here where our first m eet ing was! Do you oft en com e back?” “ I have never been here since.” “ Nor I .” The m oon began t o rise, and I t hought of t he placid look at t he whit e ceiling, which had passed away. The m oon began t o rise, and I t hought of t he pressure on m y hand when I had spoken t he last words he had heard on eart h. Est ella was t he next t o break t he silence t hat ensued bet ween us. “ I have very oft en hoped and int ended t o com e back, but have been prevent ed by m any circum st ances. Poor, poor old place! ” The silvery m ist was t ouched wit h t he first rays of t he m oonlight , and t he sam e rays t ouched t he t ears t hat dropped from her eyes. Not knowing t hat I saw t hem , and set t ing herself t o get t he bet t er of t hem , she said quiet ly: “ Were you wondering, as you walked along, how it cam e t o be left in t his condit ion?” “ Yes, Est ella.” “ The ground belongs t o m e. I t is t he only possession I have not relinquished. Everyt hing else has gone from m e, 681
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
lit t le by lit t le, but I have kept t his. I t was t he subj ect of t he only det erm ined resist ance I m ade in all t he wret ched years.” “ I s it t o be built on?” “ At last it is. I cam e here t o t ake leave of it before it s change. And you,” she said, in a voice of t ouching int erest t o a wanderer, “ you live abroad st ill?” “ St ill.” “ And do well, I am sure?” “ I work pret t y hard for a sufficient living, and t herefore— Yes, I do well.” “ I have oft en t hought of you,” said Est ella. “ Have you?” “ Of lat e, very oft en. There was a long hard t im e when I kept far from m e, t he rem em brance, of what I had t hrown away when I was quit e ignorant of it s wort h. But , since m y dut y has not been incom pat ible wit h t he adm ission of t hat rem em brance, I have given it a place in m y heart .” “ You have always held your place in m y heart ,” I answered. And we were silent again, unt il she spoke. “ I lit t le t hought ,” said Est ella, “ t hat I should t ake leave of you in t aking leave of t his spot . I am very glad t o do so.” “ Glad t o part again, Est ella? To m e, part ing is a painful t hing. To m e, t he rem em brance of our last part ing has been ever m ournful and painful.” “ But you said t o m e,” ret urned Est ella, very earnest ly, ‘God bless you, God forgive you! ’ And if you could say t hat t o m e t hen, you will not hesit at e t o say t hat t o m e now—now, when suffering has been st ronger t han all ot her t eaching, and 682
Great Expect at ions by Charl es Dickens
has t aught m e t o underst and what your heart used t o be. I have been bent and broken, but —I hope—int o a bet t er shape. Be as considerat e and good t o m e as you were, and t ell m e we are friends.” “ We are friends,” said I , rising and bending over her, as she rose from t he bench. “ And will cont inue friends apart ,” said Est ella. I t ook her hand in m ine, and we went out of t he ruined place; and, as t he m orning m ist s had risen long ago when I first left t he forge, so, t he evening m ist s were rising now, and in all t he broad expanse of t ranquil light t hey showed t o m e, I saw no shadow of anot her part ing from her.
I f you are connect ed t o t he I nt ernet , t ake a m om ent t o rat e t his ebook by going back t o your bookshelf: Click Here
683